Mentis Fugit

It was also back in February, but I've been going through a bout of ennui. One evening towards the end of summer, the inhabitants of Schloss Fugit were treated to the sight of someone piloting a hot air balloon to a landing on the lake edge behind the local public library. They looked like they knew what they were doing, but on the way over they dipped precariously close to the water, and there wasn't all that much room to touch down. Maiden flight? I wonder. Haven't seen the balloon since, but I Googled its number and got a few hits, including another person who got some shots of this same flight.

Die Kleine Tochter has had a good 2006. So has Der Alteste Sohn, but this is her story. Among other events, the school put together a band from interested Year 7 and Year 8 students (ages 11 to 13.) The teacher responsible was so happy with their progress that they entered the local intermediate schools' Battle of the Bands competition. One problem - no singers, so a call went out, volunteers applied, and rehearsals began. Many, many rehearsals.

Despite this being their first year in the competition, they finished third of the seventeen schools entered. Die Tochter sang on both songs in their set: Evermore's local hit "Running" as a duet with a boy, and The Motels' "Only The Lonely" with another girl. With the amount of preparation they put in, the band earned the result, and most of the musicians are Year 7 so will be around for the 2007 school year.

Moving on... On New Year's Eve, Die Tochter was killing time watching a live concert on TV - that is to say, a recording of a live concert - for the Prince's Trust. That's Prince as in "of Wales", not "Rogers Nelson", but that's neither here nor there: the point is she was treated to a cavalcade of has-beens, are-right-nows, and never-quite-will-bes, of which one is significant.

The next day was the now traditional family barbecue at my eldest sister's house. Never mind that this has been the worst December on record in Wellington, and the barbecue had to be set up in the garage out of the rain; a barbecue's a barbecue. For a large chunk of the proceedings, the cousins sequestered themselves out the back with Singstar Legends. Die Tochter may have done other songs, but she only mentioned one later. She said she picked it because she'd heard it on TV the day before so she knew how it went.

The performer: Ozzie Osborne. The song: Paranoid.

She's going to defy easy classification, this one.

A new liquor wholesaler, Duffy & Finn's, has opened locally recently.

( This is the sign on their checkout )

Pure Nerd 56 % Nerd, 39% Geek, 17% Dork

For The Record: A Nerd is someone who is passionate about learning/being smart/academia. A Geek is someone who is passionate about some particular area or subject, often an obscure or difficult one. A Dork is someone who has difficulty with common social expectations/interactions. You scored better than half in Nerd, earning you the title of: Pure Nerd. The times, they are a-changing. It used to be that being exceptionally smart led to being unpopular, which would ultimately lead to picking up all of the traits and tendences associated with the "dork." No-longer. Being smart isn't as socially crippling as it once was, and even more so as you get older: eventually being a Pure Nerd will likely be replaced with the following label: Purely Successful. Congratulations! Also, you might want to check out some of my other tests if you're interested in any of the following: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Professional Wrestling Love & Sexuality America/Politics Thanks Again! -- THE NERD? GEEK? OR DORK? TEST

My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 99% on nerdiness You scored higher than 99% on geekosity You scored higher than 99% on dork points

Link: The Nerd? Geek? or Dork? Test written by donathos on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

Walking through the pedestrian subway this morning on the way to start the new working week I passed a busker, a young woman sitting cross-legged against the wall, strumming away on an acoustic guitar and singing...

...the Dead Kennedys "Kill The Poor".

Just look at the filth advertisers are exposing them to!!!1!

A broadcast email went out today at work. Unfortunately, the author made one small spelling error.

From: *** Broadcast
Sent: Tuesday, 14 March 2006 10:40 a.m.
To: DL ******* Wellington; DL ******* Lower Hutt
Subject: Resent Race Relations Day Activities in Wellington

Oops.

Disclaimer the First: I only heard this tale some time - weeks? months? - after the events related, but I did hear it from one who was there.
Disclaimer the Second: I have watched 1 (one) episode of Friends from start to end in my entire life. It left an indelible blank on my memory.

Once upon a time, the IT division occupied a lower floor than we do now, and our view was more limited. On the west side, the Help Desk team looked out into the third floor windows of a neighbouring block of new apartments.

Since the Help Desk phones were to be answered from 7:30am onwards, the early shift would often see people in the flats across the way going through their morning routines.

One day, there he was. Ugly Naked Guy. Repeatedly.

But, boys and girls, this is not New York. Wellington is a small city. The Help Desk roster changed and the early starter recognized Ugly Naked Guy. Knew his name. Looked it up in the White Pages.

A small group gathered and a number was dialled. They watched him pick up his phone. A few words were exchanged.

No more Ugly Naked Guy.

Over summer Der Ältester Sohn has been playing cricket for his high school, the season running from the end of one school year into the beginning of the next. Games are 40 overs - that's a minimum of 240 balls bowled by each side - start at noon, and finish some time between 5:00pm and 6:00pm if both sides bat out their complete innings.

If.

( game report follows, you have been warned )

Other people have interesting and elaborate dreams which would make wonderful stories. Not me.

The last dream I have any recall of, I was trying to begin writing a children's story. The title of the book was My Dog's Nuts. I was struggling to decide if the title would refer to the dog's crazy antics, or whether the dog's name would be "Nuts". My second dilemma was whether to slip any references to a third interpretation of the title into the text to entertain adults reading to their little ones. It went nowhere from there.

Good grief - I get writer's block in my sleep.

So I'm On Call (sic caps) this week, which means I get to carry the Batphone. Everywhere. This is a pain since I don't want to lug two mobile phones about, so I leave my own phone behind and only check it occasionally.

There was a little painting left to do round by the laundry, so I donned me my overalls and got me out my paint tray and my roller and my brush, and set to work. Roll, roll, I went. And brush, brush. And wipe, wipe off the edge of the aluminium window frame from time to time, of course. I had a very useful little stool to stand on to reach the high bits, and I had the Batphone with me.

Step down off stool. Bend to dip brush. Hear plop. The phone has slipped out of the breast pocket of my painting overalls and dropped squarely into the paint tray.

( Language advisory moment occurs )

Not coming to an Extreme Olymiad near you, as only the British can do it, Wheelbarrow Freestyle!!!1!

Blame notgruntled

Die Gnädige Frau has been unduly stressed lo these last few weeks by the prospect of the subject she teaches undergoing moderation.

The process involved the submission of good, typical, and poor student responses with her assessments of same. It began with the apparent inability of her manager to understand that only one of the three or four papers she was responsible was in fact being moderated, and the pressure mounted from there.

It ended, today, with the nomination of her work for use as a model response.

I am so very, very happy.

Today, at work, I am wearing the suit my father-in-law brought with him when he emigrated here. Why? Well they don't fit him any more.

My trousers are older than I am.

Best. Shooting. Ever.

25 yard indoor smallbore is a peculiar discipline, not hugely popular round the world, and not represented at the Olympics, but it has one huge advantage. It's cheap - pace the cost of your own rifle. Mine was $1500 back at the beginning of the 1980s, but the barrel's good for quarter of a million rounds or thereabouts, and my ammunition comes in at about 10 cents a round. The really good stuff can be up to three times that, but...

199 out of a possible 200 last night. All because I've increased the foresight aperture by a fifth of a millimetre.

( Why pay $9.95? Lady Hamilton nude! )

Honest to God, I overheard this gem in a conversation between two middle-aged women on the train:

She had about six glasses. I said, "You know they've been tasted?" "Yeah?" "They spit it back into the glass." "Oh..."

You are a Social Liberal (68% permissive) and an... Economic Liberal (18% permissive) You are best described as a: Socialist You exhibit a very well-developed sense of Right and Wrong and believe in economic fairness. loc: (68, -119) modscore: (11, 41) raw: (1438) Link: The Politics Test on OkCupid Free Online Dating

Okay, if you took the test, what was the law you despotically imposed at the end.

I would dictate that all product placements in visual entertainment media be accompanied by the word "ADVERTISEMENT" across the bottom quarter of the screen.

I brought a plastic water bottle in to work because I was drinking five or six cups of coffee a day. I figured that was probably a little excessive, and if I had some water to hand at all times I'd be less likely to go top up my mug.

I'm still drinking five or six cups of coffee a day, but now it's accompanied by up to three litres of water.