L'Exil...est retourné!

Inshallah (god willing) we all have a suoerb Xmas! Egypt is rocking, lots of history, great food, felluccas, rubble, flies...off to see a super tacky sound and light show now...woo hoo! Damn it is so good to be on holiday!!!

What's this all about? In no way is that fair. What sort of twisted torture is this? Why would you do that to me? I couldn't make one of these to save my life. I guess all I can say is that at least it doesn't have kiwifruit on it...

Here is what is wrong and yet, oddly, what is so fascinating and enthralling about NZ cricket - "...with Parlane especially severe on the Otago attack. He smacked 13 four's in his 57 before Bradley Scott bowled him." What's that all about then? He made his 50 off 75 balls...He only ran the length of the pitch five times! But then he is a tubby old Parlane... I guess that's what you can love about cricket, even the fatties get a chance. Look at Inzamam ul Haq, Arjuna Ranatunga, WG Grace even...a game for all shapes and sizes - what about Bruce Reid?! Adam Gilchrist's ears. I still think if Macca set his mind to it, he could be NZ's most devastating wood chopper. He's got the technique already...

An excerpt from ‘The Princess Bride’: VIZZINI Now, a clever man would put the poison into his own goblet, because he would know that only a great fool would reach for what he was given. I'm not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But you must have known I was not a great fool; you would have counted on it, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me. MAN IN BLACK (And now there's a trace of nervousness beginning) You've made your decision then7 VIZZINI Not remotely. Because iocane comes from Australia, as everyone knows. And Australia is entirely peopled with criminals. And criminals are used to having people not trust them, as you are not trusted by me. So I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. MAN IN BLACK Truly, you have a dizzying intellect.

[Narrator] Twas a pretty standard night out in the Beverley town on Friday night. Young Tom put his glad rags on and hit the town with the Admin Support team from work.  Bev from Beverley (pretty dolly bird) was there leading the night, and looking exactly like young Tom expected her to look like – oddly inviting.   Young Tom realised that night how little he knew about her.  She’s one of those girls that likes to be ‘looked after.’  You know what I mean – both emotionally and financially high maintenance, but damn fine.  She’s a great girl, but Tom reconsiders his attraction and contemplates either changing tack or giving up the chase altogether. He’s not really sure she’s his type…so crashed and burned with her. And of course with the pretty one, there’s always the ‘Fat Controller’ as one of Tom’s old school friends so eloquently phrases it (I’m not sure if Thomas the Tank Engine is the right analogy, but never mind). The Fat Controlle...

Sez and Rach left yesterday to go back down to Seaford to stay with Granny Helme, so I’ve been at home by myself for over a day! No more meals cooked for me when I got home from work, no more entertaining arguments (unless you count those ones I have with myself), no more branding wars in the lounge.  The lounge got a good workout; I think they were scared to go outside because it has been so cold. But seriously, I think they are just ready to go home. We are all hanging out for Egypt, but they are hanging out for summer even more. So…four more nights to go ‘til we fly out to that big sandy beach. I’m looking forward to getting away now. I have basically just been going to meetings solidly for the last month I think, haven’t had time to do any work, write anything productive. Work now has the full compliment of staff (apart from my team, where we need two more sustainable development officers – not sure what they’re going to do because not even I know?!).  new manage...

I couldn't take them to Egypt wif me...Mmm...pineapple lumps, Mr W's sour worms, Pixie Caramel, Get more go a Moro! New poly propylene with thumb holes in the sleeves! New undies (and exactly the same as my holy pair)! And my calendar of the Mount to remind me what December is supposed to look like. Rock on! My whanau are awesome.

I have nothing to say about the NZ 'cricket' team. Except that I still believe Craig McMillan would make a better woodchopper than batsmen. At least when they wer in the beige, they loooked cool and THEN they got spanked. But then, England lost to the dirty, cheating Paki's.

I think its all about politics. If there's one thing i'm learning to do in this job, it's probably to speak up more when things are rubbish. And because i'm a foreigner I can get away with doing it in a less subtle manner. Plus I can be totally objective about it. Well almost anyway..."In NZ we go about this particular like this...". I now appreciate the Resource Management Act for its organisational qualities at least. The thing that sums England up is this: "Why don't we produce a plan for this really good idea?!" OK now we've got the plan, we seem to have run out of money to do anything with the plan. Oh well. Let's do another one. We've got no money? Shall we head down t'pub then? I can going to be a grey haired alcoholic by the time I leave here. Unless I go tomorrow...ahhh the freedom to be will o' the wisp. I was filling out some form the other day and it wanted to know what nationality I was - White English, White Euro...

Sez and Rach coming up to visit this weekend. Think I might buy their van if they are heading home in the New Year.

Murrayfield, field of Scotch dreams. Big cheers. All Black bumbling. And a heated pitch. Softies...and I thought they wore skirts in the sleet! My trip up to Scotland was a series of misadventures really. booked one too many trains because I had forgotten about the Franz Ferdinand at the Hull Ice Arena on Friday night. Not bad. Keep an eye out for the Editors, they were better than the Franz - although the encore was outstanding. Hit the town in Hull after. Scary. Encountered one of those situations where someone you really dont want to, comes up to you and starts playing with your hair. "Get away!". Anyone with curly hair will understand this occasional curse/blessing (very fickle). Got on the train after missing my bus from Beverley at some riduculous hour the next morning. Jacko came and picked me up. And he just happened to bring his cousin, a fella by the name of jonothan findon who also worked at EBOP - I remember seeing his leaving party invite and saying "Who...

Sometimes you just wonder where all those days go...my answer: meetings. I am a professional meeting goer at the moment, a connoisseur of pies, pastries, sandwiches, coffee (always rubbish), professional smooth talker - "yes, yes the Integrated Coastal Zone Management Plan is crap, but we are new and blah, blah....we have ideas!", expert passenger/driver etc...I think i just sit on my arse all day actually. But I get paid. Today's one was the Humber Estuary conference 2005 - apparently there are 22 acronyms beginning with 'H' to do with the Humber...ha! I knew it. My new boss started on Monday, and I met her today at this conference...brilliant.But I get paid. Well. Proper.