Thank you for the music

Hello,

Whilst I am bored absolutely mindless as my ill computer downloads flash player so that I can watch Home and Away, I am writing this on Notepad as its too ill to have figured out how to download Office just yet.  I am hopefull that it will be sorted soon.  Technology has not been good to me this week after my computer contracted the Trojan virus after I was stalking Noel Feilding, one of my favourite past times.  I was killing time before Bon Jovi on Saturday.

Anyhoo, this week has been extremely exciting for me - I have seen three concerts in 5 days, 4 concerts in 5 if you count the live music down at the pub.  This might sound all a bit lame, but here is the thing, I love live music.  I am obssessed by it and by those who are lucky enough to be able to make it. A friend once said that he thought that out of all the people he knew that I had attended the most concerts.  I was excited by that.

Since I was a wee lass I have loved music.  My parents will happily tell stories about how I used to walk around the house singing Otherwise Fine - apparently the only words I knew of Outlook for Thursday by Dave Dobbyn.

When I was about 17 I went to my first big concert - I don't really count New Kids on the Block when I was about 12 or 13....  At 17 I saw the Cranberries and cued for hours to get in and be near the front of the poor section.  Since this time a fair chunk of my spare cash has gone on feeding my addiction.
And just like any addiction there are rituals that go with it.  And I feel some of them go back to some primal instincts, bear with me, we will get there....

The rituals are exciting, finding out when tickets go on sale, in the early days queing for them - not anymore, its all done over the internet.  I believe that at one point I may have even called Ticketek for them at home.  But before that point, you would find out who wanted to come and sort out all the arrangements.

And then there is the waiting and the excitement once you have the tickets.  The day dawns for the concert and you decide what to wear.  For an ill fated Christina Aguleira concert my sis was contemplating assless chaps, I don't have the figure to pull them off and sadly she was ill with morning sickness so refused to play.

On the day you que some more and make friends with the people around you.  And here is when the primal bit comes in and where I begin to feel like I belong.  When you are in a crowd of 65,000 people and you are all anticipating the same thing, the air crackles.  And when the act walks on the stage, the place erupts.  And then the energy goes nuts. Imagine if you will 65,000 people moving and singing in unison.  Its pretty amazing. I find it exhilarating and arousing and like any addict search for that feeling again and again.

Over the years I have grown addicted to this feeling of belonging, of excitement and of the thrill of singing my heart out to some pretty varied bands.

Various people have been there with me.  I stood in the pissing rain at Bruce Springsteen with my parents.  It cleared when he came on and a soggy crowd boogied to Born to Run.
I have been sunburned at The Big Day out - for about 5 years in a row with my sis.  We have sweated it out in the boiler room to Dizzy Rascal, gone nuts to Rage Against the Machine, asked What the Time is with Shihad and danced our butts off to the Violet Femmes.
Her and I stayed out late for Guns and Roses cause Axl Rose is an insomniac.  We went on different nights to see Justin Timberlake and it was discussed so much that her infant son when asked where his Aunty Nicca was said that she had gone to Justin's house, cause I had said that I was going to see Justin that night.

Recently, I have been out with my London peeps.  K and I have seen a fair few together and will be seeing Roxette in November, having seen the Bare Naked Ladies last night. This weekend we are taking a trek to Milton Keynes to see the Foo Fighters and then next week we are seeing Weezer.

At home I have a tradition that just about every year for the last 10 years I have seen the Feelers play.  It started one Wednesday night when as an 18 year old I saw them open for Matchbox 20, and since then I have seen them at a variety of venues, the most common being Mangawhai Tavern, where I spend my holidays.

I guess it comes down to this.  I love music and my soul responds to it.  Music brings me to tears, it puts a smile on my face, it will take me right back to a moment and it will make new moments for me.  I tend to fancy a man on stage.  I wish that I could make it, but instead I have talent for remembering every word and and being able to sing it back.  I can dance reasonably acceptably as well so love feeling music move me.  So this month is pretty exciting for me and I just wanted to share that...

Spoiler Alert - Last Night

Please stop reading this if you are interested in seeing the movie Last Night with Sam Worthington, Kiera Knightly and Eva Mendes.  I will ruin it for you.  But I need to get this off my chest.

Right if you are still with me, here we go.

The movie is about a husband and wife and about how men and woman cheat.  Having been cheated upon and also ashamedly cheated, neither situation I ever want to be in again - but hey we all have misspent youth - I found this movie deeply intriguing and infuriating at the same time.

The movie starts with wife Kiera and husband Sam going to a work party where Kiera picks up on the fact that Sam’s co-worker Eva is interested in him.  They have a massive fight that night, manage to make up just in time for Sam to head off on an important work trip with Eva and one other.  Kiera puts a note in the suit jacket that Sam is taking away that says that she is sorry that she over reacted and that she trusts him completely….

Cue the next day when Kiera is at home happily working on her novel, and needs a coffee, so heads down to the local coffee shop.  There she is met by a man from her past, one that during a brief break Kiera and Sam had before they got married, that she had been sleeping with.  Sam has no idea that this man exists.  He is in town for one night only and wants to take her out for dinner.  He is well aware of her marital status.

Meanwhile, Sam is fending off Eva quite gallantly.  Until they go for a swim in the hotel pool and Eva confides about the time her dead partner cheated on her and how it would not matter to her if she was married she would still pursue Sam.  Ok, now here is where the problems begin for me.  Firstly, how little respect does this chick have for his marriage?  She might have had an open relationship but he doesn’t.  She shamelessly pursues him and flaunts her body for him to see.  He holds out well until they go to her hotel room for one last drink and then it’s all on.  He shags her senseless.  I was very disappointed at the point.  He was doing so well and clearly loves his wife.  And how cliché.  The next morning Sam finds the note and feels bad.  He skips the rest of the business trip to head home to Kiera.  Eva is upset and feels dirty.  But what did she really expect him to do?

Back to Kiera.  She is fending of her amore quite well.  They discuss how it was over between them very quickly due to circumstance and she laments that she never got a chance to get tired of him, but that the relationship probably would have petered out eventually.  She gets locked out of her apartment and it’s too late at night to buzz the neighbours.  So she goes back to his hotel room.  He starts to make the moves and they kiss.  But she stops it and says that she can go no further and look her husband in the eye.

Kiera is at home and crying when Sam walks in.  He asks what she has been up to and she says a quiet night at home.  But he sees the high heels that she has been wearing…

So what is worse in your opinion?  Kiera is in love with both her husband and her ex-boyfriend.  She is emotionally attached.  Sam was not emotionally attached and it was purely physical.  Kiera did say that when she can’t sleep that she thinks of the ex-boyfriend.  Sam resisted for a long time.  Kiera gave in pretty much straight away.  To me this movie, whilst being realistic, was very cliché.  And it has sparked a few long conversations with my friend M who I saw it with.  She feels that at least a shag is over and done with but that the feelings of love that Kiera has will continue.  That being in love and cheating is worse.  M heard me sigh when Sam and Eva got it on.  I was disappointed.  Maybe just for once I wanted the man to stay strong and to love his wife that little bit more.

 

I had read an interview with Eva before I saw the movie and she said that she would not recommend seeing the movie if you were in a couple.  And I would agree.  The movie was uncomfortably real.  But brilliantly acted and I guess that if it’s got me debating it and blogging about it then it’s worth it.  So give me your thoughts…

Affpuddle Fun times part 2

Sorry that it’s been a week between posts – but life has gotten pretty crazy.  Right now I have a cake in the oven and I have *mumble mumble* skipped the gym cause I worked late tonight…

Durdle Door

Anyhoo, Saturday morning it dawned bright and sunny.  I know, crazy huh, I could not believe it either.  So after a delicious breakfast of bacon and eggs, and coco pops, we jumped in the car and headed off to Lulworth Cove.  The drive was beautiful.  We arrived at Lulworth Cove and began the hike up to Durdle Door. 

 

The hike took maybe a half hour and it was pretty much straight up.  But the scenery was breathtaking.  And the sun was so nice to feel on my back.  Durdle Door was amazing and the water looked lovely.  The beach still makes me laugh here, its more the seaside as there is no sand, its pebbles.  It was in these pebbles that I started to look for fossils, and I found one!  It was a fossil of a shell so that was not hugely exciting but it was still fun.  P went for a swim, which was just pure madness, he was not in for long, mainly because it was freezing cold.  Us sane people sat on the beach and had a great catch up.

Seriously how did a wheelchair handle this?

There is one hugely inappropriate thing that made me giggle.  The whole way up to the track it was full of stairs and slopes.  On both the way up and the way down.  So how on earth did the guy in the wheelchair who was there on his own get there?  Seriously, it would have been impossible to get himself up there, and then if his friends did get him there, did they just leave him?  Very bizzare.

We then headed up to Corfe.  Corfe took my breath away.  There was an amazing ruin of a castle there and they were very idyllic.  There was a medieval fair going on and there were loads of gorgeous little tents with preserves and sweets.  It was just so quaint.  The whole town seemed to be stone and short.  The doorways were so small, even I had to stoop just a tad to get through them.

 

After some photo taking, it was off to Worth Matravers to the Square and Compass, which is a specialist cider pub.  P was very enthusiastic about this as he has been there before and loved the choice of ciders there.  It was gorgeous.  The sun was high in the sky, and the garden was strewn with stone benches.  There was a tent with a DJ who was playing a mix of chillout classics and some traditional songs.  The cider was amazing.  Our favourite was called Glastonbury.  The place was full of farmers and their wives and children.  We spent the afternoon in the sun and chilled out.  What a pleasure it was. 

After that the relaxation continued.  We headed back to our gorgeous wee thatched cottage and prepared dinner.  After I had a wee sleep we had a BBQ.  We sat out in our wee garden and had a bottle of wine whilst we waited for the BBQ to heat up.  The thing about BBQ’s over here is that they are not gas, you have to wait for the coals to heat and ash down….

Whilst this was on the boys headed to the churchyard and took photos.  They were ages so H and I cooked the dinner.  It was so nice to chat with H and properly catch up.  We have been making a habit of catching up over cocktails every few weeks for the last year or so.  It was nice to be able to have a few drinks without having to worry about catching the tube.  

We had a lovely dinner and then trooped inside when it got dark to watch some of the Inbetweeners.  Sadly we were tuckered out from the fresh air and did not make it to midnight.  Sadly I was feeling very wheezy and did not sleep very well, so the next morning I was not looking nor feeling my best.  Neither was J.  And it was pelting down.  So we all got in the car, headed back to the pub where we had left the camera, and were then on our way.  We stopped off in a small town called Worthminster, where there was a county fair going on, with Morris dancers, even in the rain, and there were loads of old ladies in rain bonnets.

So there you have it, it was an amazing weekend.  We relaxed, reconnected and laughed a lot.  Life is pretty good after a walk by the sea and some sunshine.  Let that be the lesson….

Affpuddle Excitement, Part 1

The cute church in Affpuddle

This weekend was a surprise weekend.  My friend H has turned 31 and was coping as best she could. (I have come to realise that 31 is so much worse than 30 – you are in your 30’s then!)  So her boyf P decided to give her a weekend away, with some of her friends, but she was none the wiser.  She was packed onto a train and given some instructions, whilst the rest of us scrambled to get to Affpuddle before she did.

As I went to leave work, the heavens opened, I literally thundered and lightninged.  In between these cracks of thunder, the DoE was having his 90^th Birthday, so there were the sounds of the 62 gun salute.  Does this seem like a strange number to anyone else?  By the time I got to Hammersmith, I was soaked to the bone.  Then Marks and Spencers ripped me of £12 for an umbrella – was it going to dry my hair as well?

On the way down, we found out that poor H was stuck in Eastleigh due to a poor person who had died under a train.  She was going to be severely delayed.  We headed to the cottage, after deciding that it would ruin the surprise that there were other people coming, so we would let her figure out how to get to her destination on her own.  A bit mean huh.

Affpuddle is a small place, a village of less than 100 people.  P had rented a grade two listed cottage with a thatched roof.  It was well cute with small doorways and creaky floorboards.  The cottage was likely, older than my country.  Oh and a horrid well out the front – which reminded me of the Ring and creeped me out all weekend.

We arrived at said cottage and discovered that they had not left us tp.  So we headed out in search of a shop.  We figured that Briantspuddle was a bit bigger so might have a corner shop or something.  We saw these two women parked up having a chat so decided to ask them for directions.  I was elected to go chat as with my accent it would sound plausible that I was lost.  So I got out of the car and asked ‘Excuse me please could you tell me where there is a shop?’  The woman looked at me like I had three heads –‘Shop?!  You want a shop? This is the country there are no shops!’ (she may as well have asked if I was local at all)  ‘But I only want a small shop, we are renting a cottage and there is no toilet paper’, ‘There are no shops in the country’.  Right.  So then the other woman in the other car pipes up, I turn to find her holding out a roll of toilet paper.  She says apologetically, ‘this has been rolling around in the back of my car, but should get you through till you find a shop.’  Ok.  Thanks.

Shop, you want a shop!  Became our catch phrase for the weekend. 

 

So we decided to time how long the drive to the station from the cottage would be.  As we approached the station only about five minutes away, we found a shop.  Seems that the woman may have been a bit crazy.  We stocked up on the bits and pieces that had been forgotten and headed back to the cottage. 

P went to get H, which J and I strew rose petals from the door to the bedroom, and poured some prosecco, as we thought that it would be hilarious to hide up there.  We watched from my bedroom window for the car, but got too excited and decided to take up our stations early.  About two seconds after we were settled they walked in.  H was very surprised and excited that we were all here and we proceeded to drink a lot of wine.  J and I cooked a yummy dinner of Fajitas – both crispy chicken and plain chicken.  Oh lala.

We took a wee walk around Affpuddle.  The church yard was beautiful.  The graves were very old. The light at sunset was beautiful and we got some beautiful photos.  And then took a walk down the main road, where we saw loads of other thatched cottages.  It is a very stunning and cute village.  If you could even call it a village.
  

That night we were knackered, it seems that country air is truly tiring and we were all in bed by 11pm, which was good cause the next day we were off to the Jurassic coast in search of dinosaurs!!!!

To baby or not to baby

Over the past few weeks I have been presented with a few different view-points about babies and families.  I have a craving for a solid family.  I miss being with my family a fair amount at the moment, I miss the crazy times when all of us get together and the fun feeling of being part of something pretty special.  I do get this with my London family, which is forever expanding and changing, but there is something pretty cool about people who have known you since you were born.

A few weeks ago, my London family were together on a rainy bank holiday.  I love days like that when you are inside and having a great time with a cider or two and the rain is coming down.  The music was great, the company was fun and life was pretty cool at that moment.  This time there were babies everywhere.  Babies and pregnant woman in every corner.  Normally I would be in there for cuddles and that baby smell.  But that day it was a bit much.  So I hung out with the adults and away from the kids.  And I felt just a tad sad about that.  When I was trying to describe how I was feeling to a friend, she said, that she didn’t really understand cause she has never felt the pull to have children.  But imagine standing in a room where everyone, absolutely everyone, has something that you are craving.  And you don’t have.  Be it chocolate, be it a partner, be it a baby, be it a fab figure or anything else.  And that is kinda how I felt.

This weekend I went away with some friends that I have not seen for ages.  We rented a cute grade two listed cottage in Affpuddle – there will be another blog on this soon…  But they had a very different perspective on babies.  They were not all that interested.  And it was a bit of a wake up call.  Granted that they had each other, and that was enough for them at this moment.  It was nice to see.

You see, when I saw my life, I saw it like this – me with someone wonderful, we had a house full of kids – ones that belonged to us, their friends, a house full of friends and family.  This was how I grew up, on a Sunday after church, we would head to my grandparents and spend the day with our cousins, aunts and uncles.  The adults would sit and chat and us kids would play upstairs.  I remember these times as being so much fun, even if I am still traumatised by being shut in the attic by my cousin.  I know that I am seeing these days through a child’s eyes, so it might not have been quite so rose tinted as I remember, but it did allow me to form some strong bonds with my cousins, that are still there now despite my being across the world.  (Unless you are the cousin who locked me in the attic – seriously if you come to London spend one hour with me!)  My parents are heading in this direction.  Their door is always open to family and friends.  With my sister and her family living next door, it’s a happening place.  Some of my fav times there, have been around Christmas when my Mum will be cooking up a storm and I put some music on and we will dance and sing as we work.  Various family members coming and going and joining us.

We never know what is around the corner, I could meet someone amazing tomorrow and this dream could begin.  I know that life never quite takes you where you expect, and maybe I will have to do this in unconventional ways.  Maybe it’s not meant to be, but God I hope that it is.

So here I am after an amazing weekend, sitting up in bed, listening to the rain and snuggled up in bed.  On this weekend I had one of my fav moments, it was a glorious day on Saturday, the sun shone all day and the sky was a gorgeous blue.  As twilight drew near, I felt the heat of the burn on my skin and it was nice.  Reminded me of being at home, when the air cools just lightly and the heat of the day is just there.  Reminded me of summer nights spent camping and it made me smile.  So whilst I don’t have the life that I imagined, I have a pretty cool life and maybe that just has to be enough for now.

He gets the best of my love...

As I sit on my couch, trying to get comfy with this wretched bad back, about to eat a white bread Dorito sammie, my thoughts inadvertently turn to the other Sammy.  Those who know me best know all about him.

My nephew.  This is why my thoughts turned there.  I have always loved inappropriate snacks on white bread.  Rashuns, burger rings, twisties, you name it, carbs on carbs is a decadent treat as far as I am concerned.  On one occasion, Sam and I were sitting down for lunch with my Mum.  Sam has always been fascinated with whatever I am eating.  I fondly remember him devouring my take away dinner from my fav Turkish place.  I barely got a forkful of my kebab on rice.  He had just had his own dinner and his parents found it hilarious that he ate all of mine.   

Anyhoo, on this particular day I believe that my Mum was watching in horror as I put together a rashun sammie on some of the freshest white bread and was about to bite into it, when a small voice said – Nicca, why are you having chips on bread?  Because its yummy, I replied.  And that was the end of the conversation.  Now I love my nephew, in fact I adore him.  He has been spoilt by me since he took his first breath.  But this is how I can tell that he gets the best of my love.  I had one bite of this sandwich left, and bear in mind that I tend to leave the best till last, and this small voice says, Nicca, can I have that bit?  I look up and my Mum is in stiches, cause she knows my food habits, down to the fact that I often smile at food before it goes into my mouth.  Part disarming the food – don’t worry this won't hurt a bit, and part smiling cause I know how good its going to taste.  I hesitate for a second, and then willingly hand over the best bit of this lovingly prepared sammie to my Sammy.

In fact over the years I have given up much for Sam.  Many nights have I babysat him.  One of my fondest memories was a night when I was living with my best friends, after leaving an unhappy home.  We had dinner with his Mum and had a spa afterwards.  Then his Mum and Dad had gone out.  We sat on the couch with a roaring fire, a pack of Tim Tams between us, and Night at the Museum on the tele.  Except Sam said it Mus-e-asum.  We had a blanket over us and he was fascinated with the fire but knew that he was not allowed to go near it.   A few weeks earlier I had taken Sam to the Auckland Museum and we had seen an elephant called Raja and he had the living daylights scared out of him in the earthquake simulator.  He loved that movie.  He kept pointing and telling me to look when there was something amazing happening.  At first he kept looking at me when he took a biscuit, but after a while he helped himself.  He got that DVD for his next birthday and played it constantly for a while.

That night we had to share a bed.  He looked at my luxurious huge pillows and his small one and demanded the bigger ones.  He accepted my explanation that my head was bigger and we settled down into bed.  He was out like a light and the next morning I had to wake him when I went to work.  When I was getting ready I put him in front of Monsters Inc and he was rapt.

Man, I miss that little guy.  He is the one who named me Nicca, and it kinda stuck.  He could not say Nicola.  In fact when he did it nearly broke my heart.  I will always be his Nicca.  He kinda remembers when I lived at home.  Kinda.  He remembers that Nicca liked to take me to the zoo.  He has the seen the photo of me and him under that iron elephant a million times.  He remembers the walks that we used to take.  I hope that he remembers me playing soccer with him nearly two years ago.  I hope that he remembers the endless cuddles.  Like the book that my Mum got him about Aunty Elsie who smothered her nephew with love and kisses. 

I laugh when I remember the day that I gave him a Maisy mouse desert plate.  He was so excited that he was jumping up and down.  My brother was a bit perplexed by the whole exchange.  We ate icecream from it pretty much straight away.  Him on my knee, we would have a large bowl of icecream, with sauce and sprinkles.  One for me, one for him.

Re-reading this now I almost feel that I should apologise to my sister – if your child has some strange/unhealthy food habits, I feel that they might be my fault.

Man, I miss that child.

Move over May!

The brilliant thing about May is that in the UK it starts and finishes with a bank holiday!  Yay!  Anytime away from work is good time right?  Well, I worked most of them so that puts paid to that.  It was three years since I left home!  That produced a whole raft of emotions, as did the end of the month when I spent the weekend with a group of loved up mummies…. Anyway this month started with my London besties birthday. 

 

So we partied for C’s birthday and had a few (and then a few more) drinks and a bit of a boogie.  Then a week later, there was another friend’s birthday – this C’s birthday took me on a wee trip out of London – it was great, we had BBQ in the rain and caught up on lost time. 

 

There were the games of touch that we have mostly lost.  We managed to win one and I caught the ball about 3 times!  I was beyond excited.  I might have done a wee dance on the field.

A lot of baking got done.  There were the test batches of biscuits for what I like to call festival of biscuits.  We have discovered that biscuits cooked and frozen turn out better than dough frozen then cooked.  Something to do with the butter I reckon.  I have made 5 batches in the last few days, actually I have made 7 but we ate two at the pub.  Yummm!  I am still laughing that one of my friends who works there, was asked by a random punter, where is the lady with the biscuits?  Which makes me wonder, if, you can never trust a skinny cook, will I be able to get down to my sisters wedding weight.

Book club came and went – the first one ever without a book being chosen.  We are now reading a Jack Whyte book which is actually ok.  A friend who was having trouble with his flatmate joined us and was a little surprised at what book club entails – not a lot of chat about the book, but a lot of wine.  He came over for dinner a few nights later and we ate a weeks worth of veges in a yummy stirfry.

I took a trip to Margate for work.  It was beautiful.  I loved the trip down, I slept most of the way there and back.  I even enjoyed the work conference, I found it interesting and was amazed to think that when I landed in London, three years ago, that I didn’t have a clue what match funding or defrayment were and now I understand every word.  After the conference , I sat in the sun and looked at actual sand.  If you have ever been to the UK you will understand how rare that is.

A friend came to stay and it was like a big sleep over.  In the time that she was here we had a house full of friends over for dinner most nights and a great time.  I love hosting people in my home, I love cooking and baking and having a few drinks and not having to leave the house.

I worked 15 days straight.  That was insane.  Once I finished on that fateful Saturday, I headed home and downed a few ciders in the garden with my flatties.  Then I put on a nice dress, straightened my hair and headed out to my friends leaving do.  It was great fun and we all got a little messy.  I danced the 15 days away and laughed my wee head off.  I fully stand by the fact that it was a shot of Jager that finished me off, but it probably had a lot to do with the vodka that was downed before that.  It was so very sad to say goodbye the L, she has been a large part of my London experience, in fact a lot of people’s London experiences.  To see her put on a nice dress and straighten her hair and party hearty was just wonderful.  London will miss you Hun!

The next day was the London Sevens.  The day dawned a bit dreary – so we all dressed up warm and were then rewarded with a beautiful sunny day.  Cider was downed as the Kiwis lost to Fiji.  After that there was just more work.  Late nights and more touch.

The last week of the month was very emotional.  It always is when I have had a heavy night drinking.  And you know what?  My London family stepped up.  When a visiting relative could not spare me an hour, my London family was outraged on my behalf.  When I was sad at not having someone in my life, they danced with me.  When I was sad about not being a Mum, a shot of Jager was put in my hand and I was reminded that I could not do that if I had to get up in the morning to kids.  In short/long they reminded me that they think I am pretty cool and that I needed to shake off the sadness. 

 

Which I started to do today.  I woke up with a smile and headed to work.  Went for a run and then walked an extra two tube stops.  It helped that I got in first and pinched and punched my Dad virtually – yep we are kids, but he loves it when I drunkenly text him that I am singing Pink Floyd, Wish you were here.  He doesn’t need to know that its followed by me going mental to Katie Perry, Firework.  Here’s to June – a months of concerts, races and trips away.  Bring it on June.