8 random things!

This is my first ever meme. It was Jen who took my meme virginity, and while I am not too sure of the protocol of the thing, I would like to thank her and hope she calls in the morning. So 8 random things about me…..here we go.

1.......I used to be a fully qualified beauty therapist, and worked as one for two years until RSI in my hands from too much massaging made me quit. Also the low low pay in NZ and Aus wasn’t great. But my god it’s a fun job…playing with potions and pretty things….always smelling nice…..making people feel good. The other great thing was the peace and serenity of the work place – lots of dim lighting and Enya music….although quite a difference out the back where we prepared everything and screamed at each other for not having cleaned the treatment room out or for running over time…oh the joy! If I was a squillionaire I would probably look at opening my own clinic, or beauty store…but I am not, so propellor head it is.

2.........I like hot ring cinnamon donuts with Wattie’s tomato sauce. I discovered this culinary gem purely by accident. Ordering fish and chips in the old days meant you got everything all in a square of newspaper (this is being slowly phased out in place of stupid cardboard boxes, sob sob) and so my usual order of a hotdog, donut and chips would be all squished in with my sister’s fish and Mum’s battered oysters. Once open, you’d spray tomato sauce like it was a fire hose and dive in. I must have squirted my donut by accident and, being the starving child I was, eaten it anyway. I tell you, it’s a really good combination. Try it!

3......My sister taught me to read before I started school….where on my first day apparently I was dragged out the door by my teacher, who to my eyes was approximately the size of a large whale, and presented to my waiting mother with the statement “she can READ!” I tell you there’s no genius in this – just a fact that as my sister was reading to Mum, no doubt I was hanging around trying to get the centre of attention back… and just learnt as she did. Much like Scout Finch learning to read over Atticus’s shoulder. It meant that for the first 2 years of school I was left to do my own thing (usually stapling my thumb or covering my entire arm in black paint – that was a memorable telling off from Miss McLaren) while the rest of the class caught up….and also meant that I was incurably lazy and detested authority for the rest of my schooling life.

4........I used to be utterly obsessed with Queen. Not Queen Liz, but the Freddie Mercury Queen. I was about 12, and had a crush on a poor boy at school who hadn’t hit puberty yet (I’d got that milestone over with at 10). Anyhoo the news was on and it showed Freddie’s funeral. I was all, hey! The drummer from Queen (Roger Taylor) looks like this boy! And so it began…. The collection of tapes, posters, joining of fan clubs, letters to the fan club, t-shirts. I even baked Roger Taylor a birthday cake and took it to school. I don’t do obsession by halves. Anyhoo I can now recite pretty much all Queen lyrics and know the entire history of the band. Test me if you like. It all came to a halt when I hit 15 and started going out with this guy who was like, totally into grunge, dude. Suddenly it was all about the Afghan Whigs (??!!!) and Pearl Jam. I’m a follower, not a leader. Although I am happy to say I introduced Oasis and the Reservoir Dogs soundtrack to my sixth form class.

5......I was told when I was about 11, that I would grow to be 5’8”. I am 5’1”. The urge to sue the doctor who told me this has never entirely gone away. In fact, when he told me this, I think I stopped growing. As previously mentioned, I developed early (it’s fun wearing a bra when you’re 10!) and was among the tallest in my class when I started high school….but then I stopped. And watched my skin and body go hey, since we’re no longer going upwards, we’ll go outwards! Seriously, if I grew 5 inches, I’d be slender. Don’t you love that word? Slender.

6.......I am lefthanded, and my handwriting is appalling. To quote Claree from Steel Mags, I have the handwriting of a serial killer. I thank god for the invention of the keyboard. I get really embarrassed writing notes in a meeting because it looks like a drunk child got hold of my pen. However, my lefthandedness has given me a killer backhand in tennis, and it made me the centre of attention in my Psychology labs at Uni when we were testing brain stuff. I disproved the theory however, that lefties look at things differently than righties. Or maybe I just wasn’t concentrating because this Psych Lab was cutting into my cigarettes/cups of tea/oprah-sallyjesseraphael-rickylake time.

7.......Today I am wearing a long sleeve white top, with a black shift dress over the top, and brown knee high boots. I think the boots will be retired soon as spring gets into gear and it’ll be all about the peep toe heels. I also dyed my hair last night, and am now sporting Garnier Nutrisse Tamarind. It was the first time I dyed my hair thinking, not only will this make my hair really shiny, but will cover those rogue greys. And this made me sad.

8.......This one time, I won a competition, the first (and last) I have ever won. What had happened was, Care Bears had just been re-released, so I bought 2 little ones and sent them to my childhood buddies. I went into the draw to win 7 full size ones. A few days later, the phone call confirms that I am now the proud owner of 7 Care Bears from Lambton Quay Toyworld, would I like to come and collect. So I did, and there’s nothing better to start a conversation than to walk along the main street in Wellington and get the bus home carrying 7 soft toys. The smiles you get! Anyhoo, what to do with them you say. At the time my Mother was volunteering as a Budget Advisor for some families in Napier whose priorities were a little up the whack, as in, hey, here’s my beneficiary payment for the month – alcohol and the horses, or furniture to sit on? She came home one day with a story about a wee boy who had been given a comic book and a marshmallow Santa for Christmas. This made me feel guilty at the amount of presents I had received as a child, and no doubt boasted about when I got back to school, thereby creating resentment from the children who did not have what I did. So when I had these Care Bears spare, instead of giving them to children that I knew and loved (my neice was only 2 at the time) I gave them to the Christmas Drive that the Budget Advisory service organised. The kids I knew would have got ninety presents that Christmas…but I hoped that one small kid got a brand new Care Bear along with his marshmallow Santa.

The End. I can rant can’t I?