May the fleas of a thousand camels...

I don't know who I have pissed off, but I seem to have been cursed with the fleas of a thousand camels. Both my cat and my house have been treated twice, but when I sat down on my couch today for my weekly dose of porn Spartacus, I looked down and my fluffy slippers were covered with them. And I had checked before I sat down! They're not normal fleas. They're ninja fleas.

Perhaps it's some kind of judgement for lounging around in my trackies and slippers at three in the afternoon.

My legs are covered with so many ninja-flea bites, I look like I have leprosy. It's quite a hot look for me. I wonder if I can find someone with a leprosy fetish. If there's one out there, they're probably on NZDating.

Speaking of which - it's been a while since I've posted any conversations! So, without further ado...

30 year old Male from Canterbury seeking Relationships

HIM: ur hot ild love to fuck u
HIM: hi hows ya night going
ME: ...You didn't read my profile at all, did you?
HIM: yeah i did and i like what ur into im like u i mean i have de same interests
ME: Are you doing that on purpose to be ironic?
HIM: i dont know what u mean I just would like to get to know u i think ur a cool chick
ME: Yeah, I can see you hate text language just as much as I do.

39 year old Male from Canterbury seeking Relationships

HIM: Would love to fucky sucky your wham bam hole you are hot,
ME: Ooh, the rhyme game, yay!
You'd be lucky ducky, so scram sam; you are not.
HIM: Dobnt care too drunky eunky but you sare hot weould still,three way you and licl the cum from you your just hot what ever you say and you know it
ME: You're doing it wrong.

26 year old Male from Canterbury seeking Friendships

HIM: Heya hun hows things with you
ME: Hi Babe! I can call you babe, right? After all, we're such old friends that such familiarity is only natural...
HIM: Haha for sure huni, you remember me after so long lol sorry.
**3 hours later**
HIM: Hello you
ME: Still trying?
HIM: Haha yea god loves a trier 

39 year old Male from Canterbury seeking Friendships

HIM: Hello anne,how are we today ?
ME: 'We' are royally good.
HIM: Well then thats all gd ah lol
ME: And if I'd said 'we' were royally terrible...?
HIM: Would have said oh FUCK
ME: Well that would have been odd. I'm very glad I said 'royally good' instead.
HIM: Yea so am i,so wot you been up to?
ME: Oh, you know, just playing with idiots.
HIM: I reckon there b a few ah,glad nt one of them ah luv
ME: Oh, I'm sure you are very glad.

Kidnapped!

So styley. Viva Madonna!

Yesterday I was kidnapped, and it was amazing.

It all started with a note left on my desk during the week. "Your fairy-godmothers," it read, "require you to be ready, looking pretty, this Saturday at 9.30am on your doorstep. Your chariot will be waiting. Let the kidnapping fun begin."

I know it's not usual for kidnappers to warn their victims in advance, but I was glad they did. For a kidnapping to be successful, one should be looking their best. No one will pay the ransom for a girl in a sloppy sleeping t-shirt and no pants whose hair looks like a mushroom top.

So at 9.30am on Saturday, I was indeed properly  prepared and well-coiffed, with clothes on, and not a hint of sleep-goobies in my eyes. The chariot (my friend Emma's giant car) was indeed waiting for me. Rather than throw me in the boot with a sack over my head, I was given a plastic jewelled crown to wear, and told I was a princess for the day.

She whisked me off to a place chosen by another fairy godmother, to see a third fairy godmother. The place was a beauty salon, and I was in for a treat.

What had been arranged for me was a full-body relaxation massage, head massage and foot soak. I climbed into the most giant fluffy white robe I had ever seen, plonked my feet into some milky water with stones in the bottom, and submitted to the head massage. Bliss! There's very little I love more than head massages and having my hair played with. I was feeling like a princess indeed.

Then I had the body massage. And oh, I tell you, it was a life-changing experience. Soft relaxation music played in the dim room, while expert hands made every inch of me relaxed and blissfully content. For the first time in weeks, my mind let go of all its angst and stress and just was.

(If you want your life changed, go and see Rosie at Allure Beauty on Riccarton Rd, opposite Westfield. She's a miracle.)

Suitably relaxed, I left with my fairy godmother again and she took me to Drexels for lunch. Their Eggs Benedict is one of my favourite things in all the world. These fairy godmothers know me too well!

After that, we moved on to Tower Junction to browse for some other favourite things - shoes and clothes. The shoe store shocked me, however - it seems someone is still tirelessly trying to bring back the 80's. I tried on a beautiful pair of neon orange heels. Unfortunately I don't think they'd go with my neon green lycra bike shorts, so I reluctantly left them there. Next time, perhaps. After I've purchased a neon pink baseball cap with a neck flap and some slouch socks.

All in all, I've decided being kidnapped is rather fun. I don't know what all those kids in Mexico are complaining about!

A Star by Any Other Name...

Forget people dying in floods, earthquakes, or giving up on the guys in the mine. The sizzling hot news of the moment is Ophiuchus.

Apparently, astrologers failed to take into account the wobbly tilt of the earth, the movement of the sun between constellations, and of course the fact that it's all a crock of sheissenhausen. None of this is too surprising. Putting on a boho skirt and running around barefoot has been scientifically proven to cause significantly reduced brain function. Or perhaps it's the other way round. Also, I made up the scientifically part.

Anyway, ostensibly because of all this, there's now a 13th sign of the Zodiac - Ophiuchus. The real reason is because of Virgo. After all, it's the 21st century, everyone's stopped listening to the Jonas Brothers, and virgins are so passé. So along comes Ophiuchus - the dude with the ugly name that sounds like someone's trying to swear and swallow raw oysters at the same time - and Ophiuchus, handily enough, is the serpent holder. He sidles up to her, and goes "Hey good lookin', I'm new here in the zodiac. Wanna hold my snake?"

Oh, Virgo. He won't call you in the morning.

Every guy is going to want to be this sign. Ophiuchus is bad-ass. 

But the astrologers aren't worried about Virgo, soon to be re-named Preggo. Their beef is that with 13 signs now, everything needed a re-jig. Once an Aquarius, I am now a Capricorn. The horror! No longer can I reject the Leos because my Aquarian aloofness would annoy their stereotypical pride. Actually, my whole personality is going to have to change. No more am I aloof and creative - now I'm just careful and a bit stuck-up. Ah, woe!

Because this has only just come out, the battered weekly magazines in the staffroom with the pictures of Charlize Theron in a low-cut top mysteriously cut out probably won't have your 'new' sign in them yet. As I know you're all keen to know about meeting strangers and planning trips and avoiding financial pitfalls, I have kindly put together your horoscope for Monday, the 17th of January. 

Capricorn Jan 20 - Feb 16
A handsome stranger will walk by without looking at you. You will get black stuff on your face when you're cleaning and your nose gets itchy.

Aquarius Feb 16 - Mar 11
You will run out of milk. Also, you will be annoyed by something you watch on TV. Don't kill the yappy dog two doors down - it's just crazy enough to come back as a zombie dog like the animals did in Pet Sematary.

Pisces Mar 11- Apr 18
You have spinach between your teeth.

Aries Apr 18- May 13
Today you will fall madly in love with the way your hair looks in the mirror. Unfortunately it's windy and your perfect hair day will end as soon as you step outside. 

Taurus May 13- Jun 21
You or someone you care about will get fired. You will hope it's someone you care about instead of you.

Gemini Jun 21- Jul 20
You're going to win lotto. For serious.

Cancer Jul 20- Aug 10
The doctor's going to give you some bad news. But at least you'll be able to laugh at the irony.

Leo Aug 10- Sep 16
Your cat will bring you a dead bird. You will tell him or her off but you will secretly be proud. If you really have to watch that porn, at least clear the browsing history. Your brother doesn't need to know you're into that.

Virgo Sep 16- Oct 30
The supermarket will sell out of your favourite brand of shampoo. You'll hit an old lady with your trolley and she's going to whack you with her walking stick. You probably deserve it. Also, you're pregnant.

Libra Oct 30- Nov 23
You'll  be visited by Aunt Flo later in the evening. Cancel your date.

Scorpio Nov 23- Nov 29
Tonight you will go out on the town and begin singing the 'Scorpio Girls' song to a girl in a bar because you still think, after all this time, that it's funny. You don't sound anything like Supergroove and she's going to go home with the bald guy instead. You'll get the lonely fat girl in the corner if you want, though.

Ophiuchus Nov 29- Dec 17
You only just found out you were this sign, and now you're about to find out you're adopted, too.

Sagittarius Dec 17- Jan 20
You're going to sneeze on your boss. One of those gross ones, with the big blob of green phlegm. Oh, and your significant other used the last of the toilet paper. Keep the yellow pages handy.

For auld lang syne, my friend

I think that I'm officially over new  years.

Logically, there should be nothing terribly special about the beginning of a new year. I'm fairly convinced that years actually only exist because somewhere, lost in the mists of history, stationery stores were struggling. Some enterprising young sales assistant was suddenly hit with an "Aha!" moment and dropped the pile of stone tablets inscribed with Dan Brown's latest flop he'd been dusting to run and tell his boss.

"Boss, boss!" he cried. "I've figured out a way to save us all! Why don't we cut up the time periods into these things called "years"? We could then break it down into "months" and then "days"."

The boss thought he was crazy, and prepared to feed him to a lion which happened to be browsing the computer consumbables aisle.

"But don't you see?" pleaded the salesman. "Everyone would have to buy this thing called a "calendar", every year, just to keep track of the days, months and years. We'll have gold for Africa!"

"What's Africa?" puzzled the boss, and fed the salesman to the lion anyway. But he did take the idea and run with it, and he did indeed make piles and piles of gold, which kept him in good spirits until his death five years later when a stack of stone calendars he'd forgotten to take down fell off his wall and crushed him like a bug.

Anyway.

Since the dawn of the current millenium, new years have without fail brought something bad. Perhaps I accidentally stepped on the wrong reincarnated-wizard-spider that year. Who knows? Either way, something has it in for me during the holiday season.

Last year, I was so sick I thought I was going to die. Missed all the barbeques and parties and everything. This year, I thought, I'll make up for it and party myself stupid. (It would perhaps have been helpful if someone had informed me I didn't need to party, the deed was already done). Instead I saw in 2011 watching episodes of M*A*S*H and drinking a glass of milk and tears. 

For those of you who haven't been following my whiny emo Facebook statuses lately, me and vampire boy are now quits. So instead of having fun in the sun with not a care in the world, I find myself unable to eat or sleep or keep mascara in place. Wah.

So, I have come up with a plan. There will be no 2012. This time twelve months hence, I will be dating my forms 3/13/2011. Twenty-four months from now, it'll be 3/25/2011. The plan is infallible.

Who's with me?