home alone

The Boy is entering his 3rd day of being home alone, since he’s lucky enough to have leave this week while I have to work.

So far, as you’d expect, his days have been filled with computer games, net surfing and updating his website. He says he misses me, and that being home without me isn’t the same. However, I don’t think he’s actually missing my company, as such – I think he probably just misses having coffee and food provided for him, and being generally looked after.

101 posts & still standing

Yup, that’s right – this is my 101st blog posting. Not bad going for someone who only started blogging to shut her partner up. I bet he never thought I’d make it this far (see Boy – proved you wrong!).

I think I can officially say I’m no longer “the virgin blogger” – just plain pj in the city.

i might be winning…

I hate to tempt fate by saying so, but I think I might be starting to win the ‘battle of the ants’.

I made bacon for breakfast on Christmas Day, since it’s The Boy’s favourite. The greasy paper towels I’d put the cooked bacon on, and the empty bacon packet, were in the kitchen rubbish bin. I’d intended to change the bag before we left the house to spend the rest of xmas day and night at mum & dad’s, but stupidly forgot. When we got back home, more than 24 hours later, there wasn’t a single ant anywhere near the bin.

I also discovered this morning that The Boy had left an open container of brownies in the lounge when he came to bed last night. Again, not one single ant.

Considering that when we moved in doing something dumb like either of the above would have meant we had an ant swarm within half an hour, this is serious progress.

So there you go. The Boy can mock my attempts at ant-genocide (as he likes to call it) as much as he likes – at least it seems to be working. Touch wood.

go santa!

I have to say Santa was very good to me this year – all his ‘helpers’ delivered great gifts that I’ll get a lot of use and enjoyment out of.

I was particularly impressed by The Boy’s delivery. As any regular reader of the blog (if there are any!) would know, The Boy hates shopping with a passion. I’m sure he’d rather spend 8 hours at the dentist than one hour shopping. In fact, I think the only thing he hates more than shopping is salsa dancing.

But, despite this loathing, he did venture out and found me a gorgeous Christmas present (which I absolutely love). And knowing the time and research he put into it makes it an even more impressive gift.

Thank you bebezinho – you did an amazing job.

Some people are never satisfied, are they?

Last year, our first xmas living together, The Boy was less than impressed by the little star I had on top of the xmas tree. Admittedly, it wasn’t the most salubrious decoration, but I didn’t think it was that bad.

Anyway, I’d had in mind that maybe I’d be good and get something a little nicer this year. So when I was at a sale at the Christmas Heirloom Company’s factory shop a few weeks ago, I had a look at a few options.

Not being religious, I’ve never had an angel on my tree, so I was looking at stars. Then I started thinking that since The Boy is catholic, I should really ask his preference. I sent him pixts of the angel and the star they had and told him the choice between the two was 100% his, or if he didn’t like either then I could look somewhere else. He chose the angel.

So, that was fine – I brought the angel home, and he was happy. For all of 2 minutes.

Since then, he has been bad-mouthing the poor angel to everyone who comes round, saying it’s the gayest angel he has ever seen, and how bad it looks on the tree. Despite the fact that he chose it.

So there you go – next time I won’t give a toss about which he would prefer. If he’s going to whinge about it anyway, I may as well just get the one I like, right?

4 more sleeps…

I do envy people in jobs that let them slack off a bit in the week before Christmas, so they can start getting into the holiday spirit (or even take that time off). Unfortunately for me, my work is always absolutely frantically busy in the lead up to the festive season.

Still, it could be worse – I could be a courier driver. Not only are they flat out at this time of year, but they have to brave the madness on the roads. Mind you – considering they’re big contributors to that madness, maybe its just karma.

my new crusade…

I’ve been on a bit of a mission since we moved, and that mission is to eliminate all ants setting foot on our place. It’s a bit of a losing battle, considering the whole area is rife with them (with a thin layer of soil over volcanic rock, the conditions are ant-heaven). Still, I’m out there daily, refilling the ant-bait stations and fly-spraying anything that moves.

The latest discovery was a load of ants actually in my car. I must have used a good half can of fly-spray on them – we’re now in danger of suffocating on fumes if we drive with the windows closed, but at least there aren’t any crawly things in my poor wee car.

The Boy thinks its hilarious watching me race around with the ant bait and fly spray in my vendetta against all creepy-crawlies, but so long as I can at least keep them out of our house (and my car!) then I’ll be happy.

showing some christmas love

Partners of friends can be difficult to buy for, don’t you think? They’re often not people you have all that much contact with, even when the relationship is long term. Besides, when you’re on a bit of a budget, you don’t necessarily want to have to spend a lot of money on “partner presents”.

My solution to that for the last several years has been home baking. I make chocolate brownies and/or biscuits and buy some nice plates to put them on. Wrapped up in cellophane and tied with curling ribbon, it looks good and doesn’t cost the earth, but is still something that shows a bit of effort.

Since we had a Christmas gathering on Sunday, I spent a good part of Saturday evening and Sunday morning doing the baking (see how exciting my life is in the suburbs?!). This year it was a couple of batches of brownies and loads of cranberry & white choc chip butter cookies.

It occurred to The Boy & I that, since we had all this Christmas baking, it would be nice to do the neighbourly thing and give some to the people on either side of us. We still aren’t really used to this whole “chat to the neighbours” thing, but we’ve been trying to improve. Anyway, they seemed to appreciate it, so I guess we’re learning.

Actually, I suppose neighbours and friends’ partners are similar in a way. In both cases, you don’t necessarily have a lot in common with them or see them very often, and sometimes you don’t even like them that much, but it’s wise to maintain civil relations with them.

how do they do it?

Children really are amazing creatures. How can beings so small and so cute be capable of creating such bedlam, such ear-splitting noises and leaving such a trail of destruction?

I had the annual Xmas get-together with a few old school friends yesterday, which it was my turn to host. The party included 4 young whipper-snappers ranging from 1 to 6 years old. Two of them had just come from a birthday party, so they were already sugar-shocked before they even arrived.

Don’t get me wrong – I love the kids and always enjoy seeing them, but they could definitely teach Genghis Khan and his ravaging hordes a lesson or two. My utmost respect, and somewhat bewildered admiration, has to go to all the parents out there who deal with these little critters 24/7. I’m always completely exhausted after a few hours!

a cure, but only temporary

We discovered one cure for computeritis/internetitis last week – just blow up the power converter. Unfortunately it was only a temporary cure, because The Boy got a new one on Wednesday. Oh well – at least I got a few days with him off the computer and spending more time with me, even if he did spend most of that time whinging about not having his computer…

how many more sleeps?!

How the hell did it get to be only 11 more sleeps until Christmas??? Am I the only person in the world who hasn’t got the xmas spirit yet? Or, more to the point, the only person in the world who hasn’t made even a small dent in their xmas shopping?

Best I get my butt in gear on that, I suppose. Avoiding the malls whenever humanly possible, though – I like to think I’m a reasonably easy-going person, but the crowds in malls at this time of year do bring out the worst in me. Mind you, I never give anyone a discreet elbow-jab or heel-spike unless they really, really deserve it… honest…

movember

Well, “Movember” is drawing to a close. I don’t think anyone is NZ can possibly be unaware of what Movember is by now, but if so then check out http://www.movember.com/nz. It’s great to see prostate cancer getting a higher profile. After all, breast cancer and skin cancer both get a ton of press time, but an awful lot of people aren’t even aware of what prostate cancer is.

All the worthiness aside, though, one thing this past month has proved is that the mighty mo really isn’t a look for everyone. Honestly, have you ever seen such a sad lot of wanna-be-Magnum-PI’s?? The thing that has amazed me most is the number of guys who, after a month of trying, still only have the smallest wee bum-fluff mo.

One colleague of The Boy’s (who shall remain nameless) came to work one day with a mo that looked suspiciously darker and fuller than it had the day before. On closer inspection, they discovered that he had tired of being teased about only having weeny peach fuzz, and had used mascara to beef it up a bit…

Anyway – well done to all the guys who participated. Quite aside from raising money and awareness, you’ve also provided no small amount of amusement to the rest of us!

neighbours

Neighbours are funny things, aren’t they? I’m not really used to having neighbours that you do more than nod hello to as you pass on the street – I haven’t really been “buddies” with neighbours since I was a child. In fact, the last neighbours I had were an old pair of alcoholics, who must have single-handedly kept the local liquor store in business. They liked to have nasty arguments at the top of their lungs, smoked like chimneys (which doesn’t seem to have weakened their lungs any, given the volumes they could achieve) and regularly set off the smoke alarms with their cooking.

So you can see how I’d find it a little odd getting used to neighbours who not only seem quite normal, but who are actually friendly. To give you an idea, they brought us a cake when we moved in. Seriously! A very yummy strawberry cheesecake, in fact. And knocked on the door last night to invite us over for a quiet beer.

They seem like a lovely couple, though – about our age with a young baby. And, funnily enough, it turns out we know some of the same people – never mind 6 degrees of separation, New Zealand is more like two or three.

So there you go – a new experience for pj-now-in-the-suburbs: friendly neighbours.

relapse

The Boy has had a bit of a computeritis and internetitis relapse in the last few weeks. Just when he’d been getting a little better, too.

It started when we were out appliance shopping, of all things. The store we were in had a massive game section, which I didn’t realise. I foolishly suggested he occupy himself with something else while I looked at washers and dryers, since he has the attention span of a two year old about such things. Anyway, he found the game section…

After I’d sorted the appliances and organised delivery, it was time to leave. He wanted to buy a computer game first. These things aren’t cheap, and we’d just spent a fortune on whiteware, so I wasn’t really keen for him to do that. The resemblance to a two year old reared it’s head again and, one big tantrum later, we left the store with Civilisation IV (kind of an ironic choice, considering the behaviour).

He was just starting to surface from spending 95% of his at-home-and-awake time playing that (the other 5% being spent eating) when his new broadband connection finally came through. Yup, he’s been almost impossible to drag away from the internet ever since.

I know that it’ll taper off eventually (until the next big thing comes along, anyway), and I know I should be happy that he is happy, but I’m afraid I really just find it annoying.

Has a cure for computeritis or internetitis been discovered since I last asked? If so, please let me know!

invasion…

Not to sound like a girly wuss or anything, but one thing I am finding hard to adjust to again is insects.

We had a bit of an ant invasion over the weekend – the local ant colony apparently decided it didn’t like the stormy weather outside and decided to come on in. Fortunately they didn’t find the pantry (touch wood), but they did find the rubbish bin and spread themselves far and wide through the kitchen and dining areas, with a few hardy front-runners making a foray into the living room.

A can of Raid and a quick trip to buy ant bait later, we seem to have it pretty much under control. It’s just another one of the “features” (as opposed to the benefits…) of living in a villa, I guess, but I’ve always been a bit of a girl when it comes to creepy-crawlies.


ps – happy birthday dad!

suburbia…

Yes, we’re well and truly moved – PJ is now officially a suburbanite. I do still get my daily dose of the city at work, though, so I haven’t gone entirely over to the dark side.

We’ve been there 3 weeks tomorrow. It seems both longer and shorter than that, which I know doesn’t really make sense. Still, I never claimed to make sense.

In the three weeks, we’ve had multiple barbeques, unpacked the majority of the boxes, bought a few sets of drawers and abandoned the idea of taking the bus to work. We’ve also bought a washing machine & dryer, which seems like a very grown-up thing to do (my mum was a bit horrified when I said that – I think she thinks that someone my age shouldn’t find appliance ownership scary).

One thing I’ve realised is that I’ve been well and truly spoiled over the last few years by the excellent insulation that modern apartments have – I’d forgotten how cold villas can be. We’re definitely going to have to invest in an amazing heater (or three) before winter.

apartment or tardis??

We’re well into the packing now, and the place is looking absolutely horrendous. We have boxes everywhere, rubbish everywhere and very little room to move. It isn’t exactly the most pleasant environment right now.

I have to say, though, I’m astounded at how much stuff we have. I knew things were jammed pretty tight into that little shoebox-sized apartment, but it just keeps on coming. We have boxes stacked to the ceiling along the wall, and we’re not even done yet! I’m starting to suspect our apartment is actually a tardis…

too sexy?

I don’t know if I’d go quite so far as to agree with the whole men are from mars, women are from venus thing, but there is no denying we have our differences. And one of the big ones is self-image.

Its something everybody knows, but it really struck me this morning that the average male self-image and the average female self-image are absolutely miles apart. What brought it to mind this morning in particular? Watching The Boy, fresh out of bed, unshaven and wild-haired, singing I’m Too Sexy into the bathroom mirror… Ok, it was a little tongue in cheek, but how many women do you know who would do that, especially when they’d just got out of bed??

rent to own, my butt…

One thing we’re going to have to do with this new place is buy whiteware, which I’ve never needed before. Everywhere else I’ve lived has already had all the whiteware – either belonging to an existing flattie or as part of the package. The new place has a stove and dishwasher, but no fridge, washing machine or dryer. So we can cook but not store fresh food and we can wash our dishes but not our clothes… not exactly ideal!

So, we’re going to have to sally forth and learn about the wonderful world of home appliances. One thing we’ve learned already, through the wonders of the internet, is that DTR is a rip-off. Rent to own, my butt. When you multiply their “low weekly payments” by the number of weeks you have to pay, it works out at least double what you’d pay if you just bought the things from a normal appliance shop. You see “2 years interest free” specials all the time, so it isn’t like you have to have all the cash up front, so why on earth would you do DTR??

A trap for young players, that’s all it is.

pj in the suburbs?

Yes, its true – we’re moving to the suburbs… The big move is happening over Labour Weekend.

We’ve finally had enough of living in a city apartment the size of a shoebox, and are ready for a bit of greenery and a real kitchen. Maybe once we have a kitchen bigger than a ship’s galley, it’ll be easier to get The Boy to cook a bit more often. We’ll definitely be having a few bbq’s in the summer, which should keep my Brazilian Gaucho happy.

So, now we have the super-fun task of packing and planning what needs to come out of storage. Plus what needs to go into storage and what just needs to get chucked. I really hate packing and moving. You’d think it wouldn’t be so hard, considering the size of our current place, but its amazing how much crap we have jammed in there. The Boy is a bit of a hoarder…

I’m not entirely sure how I’m going to go with the whole taking the bus to work thing. That will definitely be a shock to the system. I’ll give it a go, anyway, and see what happens.