I'll be back soon. I promise.

As you can probably tell, I've taken an unintentional break from the blog.

There's no particular reason for this other than that I haven't had the time and I haven't had the motivation to put the effort in. I haven't really pushed myself to do it because I want blogging to be something I do because I enjoy it and not because I feel like I have to do it.

Also I can't find my memory card reader, so I have no photos to illustrate my tales with.

Here a couple of things I want to say to you though:

1. I'm home!
2. Merry Christmas!
3. Happy New Year!
4. One week until I go back to New Zealand!

And here is a present for you:

See you soon.

Thank you Sarah.

Sarah is probably the only person in the world I speak to about my blog outside of the internet. And I do realise that it must be pretty boring, sozzard Sarah. I tell her about the jokes I've thought about writing and as I say, I think I'm hilarious. Other people beg to differ.

Anyway, Sarah obviously felt that my blog was so brilliant it needed more exposure and as she now works in Marketing, it's only natural she should appoint herself as my advertising campaign manager. 

This arrived in the post today. Pretty cool, ay?

Thank you for my present Sarah, I love it!!!

I got horrendously burnt on my face yesterday. My lips are so raw, it really hurts! (I know what you're thinking mother, but they are raw from the sunburn, not from kissing boys. Eww.) 

With my sunglasses tan line I resemble a raccoon. I'll tell you now it's not a good look. Oh and I leave New Zealand today. The burn better fade by Tuesday or all my ambitions of looking good when I arrive home and at the wedding are absolutely ruined.

I may be being a bit dramatic. I may not be. I'll let you be the judge of that. Presenting the sunburn, along with no make up and newly washed hair. Just look how white those arms are!

Today I'm grateful for music. And hair.

Happy Turkey day. Remember peoples, attitude of gratitude. 

I should probably rename my blog 'Things I've found on the internet today'. I'm sorry for this shift in blog subject matter but at the moment my life consists of myself and the internet.

There's plenty of other things I should probably be doing, like packing or reading or preparing my Relief Society lesson. Unfortunately the lure of novelty websites are too much to resist.

Today I'm sharing a website that accompanies me through my web surfing. 8tracks.com is basically the same as Pandora Radio, but works outside the US. I was pretty disappointed when I realised that Spotify didn't work over in this part of the world. But never fear, 8tracks has been providing me with multitudes mixes over the last couple of weeks. The mystery of what songs are on these mixes is all part of the fun of it.

This is the mix I've been listening to while writing this. Enjoy the jams while you skim read my blog post for any interesting details, of which there are none. You might want to stop reading now.

 

So you're probably wondering why, when I have less than two weeks left in NZ, am I spending so much time at home on the internet. The answer is simple. Procrastination and work. These last couple of weeks I feel like I've been working non-stop, it's been busy. But I enjoy my job and it doesn't really feel like work thankfully. When I get a decent chunk of time off I do manage to take myself away for some me time. 

For example, last Saturday between Phoebe's birthday party and babysitting duties I slinked off for a hair cut. Whenever I get a haircut, I usually leave the salon feeling like I've just paid a buttload of money for the hairdresser to go scissor happy on my hair creating a cut that I don't even like. 

"I don't know, it just feels a bit flat. It's too straight" is what I said when the hairdresser finished. She asked me if I wanted her to put a bit of movement in it. Yes I would like a bit of movement I answered and went back to my mag. When she finished I looked up and entered a state of shock. I looked like I'd been sat in rollers all day. My mother would have loved it. But it really wasn't me. It was probably me thirty years from now.

My answer this time was "I never like my hair when I get it cut." I then proceeded to dig myself a deep, deep grave trying to convince the hairdresser I wasn't being offensive. 

I'd planned on going to check out a festival going on at a local park after the hair cut. Instead I walked for 5 minutes, looking at my reflection in every shop window, before I decided my only real option with this hair was to head home and hideout for the rest of the day.

When I finally got round to washing it myself I realised what was wrong with the haircut. It's exactly the same as it was before I got it cut.

This time I'd paid a buttload of money for the hairdresser to waft a pair of scissors around my head and then style my hair in a style that  was last popular in the 70s.

So that's the story of how I got my hair cut without it actually looking like I got it cut. Oh well, at least I have hair. I am thankful for hair.

I think I'm the only person on this planet who could write 6 paragraphs about a haircut. And that's the short story. Why are you even still reading? I'm boring myself. Ciao.

Barbra Streisand.

You know what they say, small things amuse small minds. Well, I've just spending the last whoknowshowlong creating my own versions of Duck Sauce's Barbra Streisand.

Check out GoBarbra.com. You will not regret it.

Here's one I created earlier.

I think I find myself too funny sometimes.

This is a lesson in procrastination.

I'm beginning to stress a little bit about going home. 

And by stress I mean procrastinate. I seriously can not be bothered to pack. Too many decisions about what to take home, what to leave and what to throw out. It's like April all over again.

In my procrastinating state of mind, I somehow ended up playing with the premium features on Picnik. After several politically incorrect edits, I began playing with the facial hair tool.

Here's my tribute to Movember.

I hope you like it as much as I do. It may become a permanent feature.

These last couple of days have kinda been like this...

via

About Mraz.

If you'd asked me last week for my opinion on Jason Mraz, my answer would be pretty neutral. In fact I'd probably tell you that some of his lyrics are ridiculous and he's way too fond of the scat singing.

OK, so I can't think of any evidence to prove my point of the ridiculous lyrics. BUT at the end of one of my favourite songs of his, it ends with a voicemail recording that says "It's like you're an island of reality in an ocean of diarrhea."

Ahhh, yeah, you just spoilt that moment for me.

When Amanda asked me to go see Jason Mraz with her I was a tad hesitant but agreed. And well, I'm so happy I went.

Ask me now what I think of Mr Mraz? Definitely one of the best live performances I've ever experienced. The guy is talented, he's funny and he really engages with the audience. It didn't matter that I only knew 4 of the songs.

My favourite bit has to be when he had us whale singing. Me and Amanda were in tears of laughter by the end, much to the annoyance to the woman sitting next to me. She needed to get herself a sense of humour.

Here's a video from the concert. It's the part where Jason Mraz gets a fan to come and sing with him. I'll admit it, I was thinking it was going to be like when Beyonce let a fan sing along, I was kinda wrong.