Leaving to go to a wedding. I am Best Manning it. The speech thing? Proving harder than I expected.
I send you all of these e-cards. Thank you internets.
Now I depart. Onward – to Havelock North!
Got these, then got this.
6-8 weeks in a splint. Damn.
(Still a bunch of emails to catch up on. This all takes far too long. But anyway.)
New Years in Wellington is, by tradition, rubbish. The city always goes quiet over the new years period as all the young and party-hearty up sticks for other locales, such as the big dance parties across the channel in Nelson, or something up north.
This year, D3vo and I hatched a cunning plan to ditch dub-town for a place of our own. Through the kind generosity of Ruth (of Not Usually About Penguins), we secured a very nice holiday house on the Kapiti Coast. It’s a place that I’ve been visiting for over a decade, again thanks to Ruth’s (and Damon’s!) continuing generosity, and it’s become quite important to me. The chance to share it with a bunch of good friends was tremendously appealing.
So, in haphazard fashion we put the word out, deliberately not over-planning it in order to ensure good karmic resonance or something. All came together well. We had twenty or so people in the house and in tents, and the reverie was splendid. Fun with the neighbours, midnight fireworks, downhill dune racing and of course lots of dancing were the order of the night, before everyone crashed out on all available surfaces. It was great.
Hence this post – a good New Years deserves commemoration, because they can be hard to come by. It isn’t complicated – get some good mates together and commit to one spot, and let the party roll. And yet it’s so easy to get distracted or to try too hard to make too much of the night and end up dissatisfied. Hard for us to really know what we want.
New Years doesn’t mean anything by itself. It’s a good marker, a good reminder. As numbers tick over it reminds us of time passing, and of change. It is a ready-to-wear symbolic engine, and it can give us power if we choose. I have more to write on that. Short version is just two words, describing something else I did on Hokio Beach at this little New Years party: got engaged.
Other accounts of the fun, with photos, can be found in the writings of Hottieperm, Off-Black, HebeHobo and MalcsTravelogue.
There will not be regular bloggage for a while yet. Malc and I are hitting the road on Friday for a week, culminating in the excitement of NZ’s biggest music festival, the Big Day Out. I’m rather excited by this, because I haven’t been for years. In fact, the last time I was at the Big Day Out was so long ago, the headline act was Rage Against The Machine!
Oh, I see.
So there’s been a lot of news-spreading the past week. I’m not nearly caught up on messages about it. Still rather nice to think about. There will be some discussion of this in due course.
Also some reflections on 2007. It was an interesting year, that one. While 2008 promises to be interesting for an entirely different set of reasons – elections in the US and NZ, for a start.
But for now, let me just say: the film Sixteen Candles by John Hughes is way, way weirder than you remember it being. As previously discussed, the Breakfast Club is actually still very watchable, but 16Candles is incredibly bad in a very odd way.
The best example: the movie is about MollyRingwaldGirl, who turns 16 but no-one remembers! And she loves a boy who doesn’t notice her! Halfway through the movie, she steels her nerve and approaches the boy – but she wimps out and runs away without saying anything to him. Oh no! What will she do now? Here’s what she does: she goes home to bed and spends the rest of the movie asleep. Yes, seriously. Then she wakes up, goes to a wedding and the boy turns up inexplicably infatuated with her, roll credits!
Let’s do a second take on that: the main character is at home asleep for the second half of the film.
The reason people remember 16Candles fondly is because of the one scene where MollyRingwaldGirl and AnthonyMichaelHallGeek have a moment of genuine communication in the front seat of a car. And yeah, that’s a good scene. The renaissance in teen comedies in the late 90s owed a lot to that scene – e.g. American Pie (not the sequels). You can even, maybe, draw a line from that scene to the greatest teen comedy of the Zeds, Superbad. But it’s a tenuous line.
Anyway, I’m rambling, and I’m allowed because I’m engaged and going to the Big Day Out. Everybody explode!
So, Cal and I are engaged now.