Friday, July 01, 2005
Helen Clark really is quite a fine-looking woman. I approve.^^
She's been a damn good Prime Minister, representing New Zealand internationally with dignity and skill. Labour have passed through some brave legislation- which has already helped to change societal attitudes, mine perhaps among them (on the prostitution issue, at least). Helen doesn't pander to good, honest white people in racist, homophobic diatribes aim at securing the vote of "mainstream New Zealanders."
I've not been the greatest fan of everything this Government has done- the cost of living has risen so high, unchecked, that people at the bottom have edged even further over the poverty line- but damn me if I'm not going to vote Labour after all, and not merely as a last resort measure. I wantto. Admittedly, I didn't know how deeply until Brash, the disgusting little Nazi, began to climb in the polls over the last fortnight.
Um. I should stop reading the news (I've been at it for two hours, dammit!) and go through the rest of my family law notes.
Karman has 3 little pigs
She's been a damn good Prime Minister, representing New Zealand internationally with dignity and skill. Labour have passed through some brave legislation- which has already helped to change societal attitudes, mine perhaps among them (on the prostitution issue, at least). Helen doesn't pander to good, honest white people in racist, homophobic diatribes aim at securing the vote of "mainstream New Zealanders."
I've not been the greatest fan of everything this Government has done- the cost of living has risen so high, unchecked, that people at the bottom have edged even further over the poverty line- but damn me if I'm not going to vote Labour after all, and not merely as a last resort measure. I wantto. Admittedly, I didn't know how deeply until Brash, the disgusting little Nazi, began to climb in the polls over the last fortnight.
Um. I should stop reading the news (I've been at it for two hours, dammit!) and go through the rest of my family law notes.
Karman has 3 little pigs
The Care of Children Act 2004 (NZ) came into force about an hour and forty minutes ago. Go the paramountcy of the child's best interests principle as exemplified by s4. It's a good, good thing. Hee hee, hoo hoo, ha ha.
OK, bedtime. I'll be so pissed off if these ghastly family law abuse cases infiltrate my nightmares tonight.
Karman has 0 little pigs
OK, bedtime. I'll be so pissed off if these ghastly family law abuse cases infiltrate my nightmares tonight.
Karman has 0 little pigs
Thursday, June 30, 2005
My exam today went swimmingly- I can't remember the last time I finished a test with five minutes to spare, let alone over half an hour! If John Black is in a good mood, I should get a decent mark. Not worried, mate.
Talked to David for a bit on the phone; he says he has exciting news which he will share tomorrow. God. I just hope he's not pregnant.
I'm gazing very longingly at a Somerset Maugham novel, just begun, on my dressing table, BUT Family Law beckons. Sniffles. Talk soon.
In the meantime, here's something I'm contemplating.
Karman has 5 little pigs
Talked to David for a bit on the phone; he says he has exciting news which he will share tomorrow. God. I just hope he's not pregnant.
I'm gazing very longingly at a Somerset Maugham novel, just begun, on my dressing table, BUT Family Law beckons. Sniffles. Talk soon.
In the meantime, here's something I'm contemplating.
Karman has 5 little pigs
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Just spoke for 45 mins to David on the phone. It's going to be very hard leaving him for several months. A glimmer of joy, though: it sounds as though he will quite possibly be able to accompany me to Sydney, which would be my first stopover in a RTW trip in any event. That would be a marvellous start.
Despite my tiredness, current insolvency, impending exam and sore tummy, I persist in thinking that everything will be all right. Odd. Usually I see the can't see the doughnut for the hole.
[Edit: all right, in case you weren't familiar with the following rhyme, here ya:
'Twixt optimist and pessimist
The difference is droll
The optimist sees the doughnut
And the pessimist sees the hole.
I lvoe it.]
Karman has 0 little pigs
Despite my tiredness, current insolvency, impending exam and sore tummy, I persist in thinking that everything will be all right. Odd. Usually I see the can't see the doughnut for the hole.
[Edit: all right, in case you weren't familiar with the following rhyme, here ya:
'Twixt optimist and pessimist
The difference is droll
The optimist sees the doughnut
And the pessimist sees the hole.
I lvoe it.]
Karman has 0 little pigs
Kiwi Bic Runga released her début Drive in 1997, but I nonetheless feel awfully up-to-date when I listen to it. Everything else on my CD shelves is by Don McLean, Lenny C, John Lennon, Arlo Guthrie, Queen, The Beatles, Jim Croce, Roy Orbison, Charles Aznavour, Edith Piaf, Hank Williams, Neil Diamond and any number of other artists who peaked before I was even born in 1985. Well, not everything- there's some stuff by Celine Dion and Savage Garden that I got when I was 13 or so, but we don't talk about those albums.
Bic's adorable. The title song is just Bic (pronounced "Beck") and her guitar- it's really folky. Maybe the lyrics aren't poetry, but I love them:
Rain fall from concrete coloured sky
No boy, don't speak now you just
Drive, drive, drive
Take me through make me feel alive, alive
When I ride with you
Aww. I want to go riding around in the car with David now. Not that I'd ever tell him not to speak. If he ever fell silent for two minutes altogether, I'd call an ambulance in alarm. Seriously, the dude makes me seem quiet and retiring. Sigh. Yes, Bic, I believe in stupid things like love. (It must be love. He's not even quiet when he sleeps- and I never dreamed I'd tolerate snoring in a man. At least he stops if I nudge him.)
The evidence exam is tomorrow afternoon, and I am woefully underprepared again, and I don't even care. The material's bloody interesting, so hopefully I can bluff my way through it. You never know with John Black, though. He said earlier this year, "Prepare hard for your exams. There are no Einsteins in law, just swots. Work hard, and you'll do well." It's so true. When he said this, you could see all the we're-as-thick-as-two-short-planks-but-we-try-so-hard crowd perking up. It's so true, too. Some of the people in my Honours class last year were complete dumbasses who couldn't tell an adverb from an infinitive. (All right, you're not necessarily idiotic if you can't define those words, but the law is supposed to be about the manipulation of the English language. Familiarity with its most basic elements couldn't hurt, could it?) These beastly grinds can actually get better marks than bright people. It's shocking!
I suppose there's justice in the fact that marks reward hard work instead of those merely genetically blessed with a better-than-average brain, but, oh, I don't know. Genes gave me acne and myopia (grace à Papa) and an inability to sing (cheers, Mum), so it drives me nuts that the one good thing I did inherit- apart from my politics- doesn't give me very much of an advantage. Harrumph.
Mum is surprisingly supportive of my decision to take at least the first semester off uni next year and travel. I'm utterly amazed. Apparently my utter, uncharacteristic lack of interest in my academic performance has been patent for all to see for some time. I thought I'd been bluffing so well.
So, I'm pulling out of IP 2 and getting another job or two next week. It's really happening. I might come home in mid-July next year and finish my degrees in by mid-2007. Then go travelling again. Then come home in January 2008 and do a Masters and get my bar licence. Then eventually, very poor, and aged 24, but having spent a year cumulatively in travel, get a job.
Um. I wish David were a rich playboy and could accompany me. And I wish quarantine laws didn't apply to collies, so that Shania could come too. And I wish I didn't have this huge student loan to come back to at the end of it all.
OK, evidence.
Karman has 2 little pigs
Bic's adorable. The title song is just Bic (pronounced "Beck") and her guitar- it's really folky. Maybe the lyrics aren't poetry, but I love them:
Rain fall from concrete coloured sky
No boy, don't speak now you just
Drive, drive, drive
Take me through make me feel alive, alive
When I ride with you
Aww. I want to go riding around in the car with David now. Not that I'd ever tell him not to speak. If he ever fell silent for two minutes altogether, I'd call an ambulance in alarm. Seriously, the dude makes me seem quiet and retiring. Sigh. Yes, Bic, I believe in stupid things like love. (It must be love. He's not even quiet when he sleeps- and I never dreamed I'd tolerate snoring in a man. At least he stops if I nudge him.)
The evidence exam is tomorrow afternoon, and I am woefully underprepared again, and I don't even care. The material's bloody interesting, so hopefully I can bluff my way through it. You never know with John Black, though. He said earlier this year, "Prepare hard for your exams. There are no Einsteins in law, just swots. Work hard, and you'll do well." It's so true. When he said this, you could see all the we're-as-thick-as-two-short-planks-but-we-try-so-hard crowd perking up. It's so true, too. Some of the people in my Honours class last year were complete dumbasses who couldn't tell an adverb from an infinitive. (All right, you're not necessarily idiotic if you can't define those words, but the law is supposed to be about the manipulation of the English language. Familiarity with its most basic elements couldn't hurt, could it?) These beastly grinds can actually get better marks than bright people. It's shocking!
I suppose there's justice in the fact that marks reward hard work instead of those merely genetically blessed with a better-than-average brain, but, oh, I don't know. Genes gave me acne and myopia (grace à Papa) and an inability to sing (cheers, Mum), so it drives me nuts that the one good thing I did inherit- apart from my politics- doesn't give me very much of an advantage. Harrumph.
Mum is surprisingly supportive of my decision to take at least the first semester off uni next year and travel. I'm utterly amazed. Apparently my utter, uncharacteristic lack of interest in my academic performance has been patent for all to see for some time. I thought I'd been bluffing so well.
So, I'm pulling out of IP 2 and getting another job or two next week. It's really happening. I might come home in mid-July next year and finish my degrees in by mid-2007. Then go travelling again. Then come home in January 2008 and do a Masters and get my bar licence. Then eventually, very poor, and aged 24, but having spent a year cumulatively in travel, get a job.
Um. I wish David were a rich playboy and could accompany me. And I wish quarantine laws didn't apply to collies, so that Shania could come too. And I wish I didn't have this huge student loan to come back to at the end of it all.
OK, evidence.
Karman has 2 little pigs
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
New colour scheme, because even I am apparently capable of tiring of the colour orange. Wow. Good thing Mum didn't let me paint my bedroom bright orange when I wanted to a while back.
New title, because I'm addicted to the following Robert Frost poem at the moment.
Canis Major
The great Overdog,
That heavenly beast
With a star in one eye,
Gives a leap in the east.
He dances upright
All the way to the west
And never once drops
On his forefeet to rest.
I'm a poor underdog,
But tonight I will bark
With the great Overdog
That romps through the dark.
Karman has 10 little pigs
New title, because I'm addicted to the following Robert Frost poem at the moment.
Canis Major
The great Overdog,
That heavenly beast
With a star in one eye,
Gives a leap in the east.
He dances upright
All the way to the west
And never once drops
On his forefeet to rest.
I'm a poor underdog,
But tonight I will bark
With the great Overdog
That romps through the dark.
Karman has 10 little pigs
