Things have been pretty busy the last few days but I've now got an hour or so to myself on this sunny Sunday morning. Mum and my aunt have just been to the Catholic church opposite my flat. They said there was a large (in more ways than one) Tongan presence in the congregation of 400. The Pacific Island community does add a lot of vibrance to the southern part of Wellington. Mum and her big sister have now gone to Te Papa to see an exhibition of wedding dresses on loan from the Victoria & Albert Museum in London. If instead it was an exhibition of beer bottle tops I might have been more interested in going. A four-day domestic cricket match has started at the Basin; the crowd is very sparse. I can't see much of the ground from here but the scoreboard man regularly pokes his head through a hole in the board to change it.
I wasn't in the best of mental states when Mum arrived on Wednesday. When I got home from work I rang Vodafone to get my phone and internet sorted for my new place. All the options were expensive; I said I would think about it. At 7:30 I met Danielle at the tramping club. Hordes of people unexpectedly filed in to see a presentation. Danielle, who didn't stay for the talk, said she'd never seen so many people there - I half-jokingly said that someone had probably been to the Himalayas. Which they had. A woman of about Mum's age - and without a full set of fingers - proceeded to give a talk about her intrepid Himalayan adventures in the seventies and eighties. She lost her boyfriend on one trek in the mid-eighties and she was badly frostbitten. Later she married a like-minded chap and they started up a school in Kangchenjunga region of Nepal (which includes the world's third-highest peak), bringing education, medicine and contraception to the area. Unfortunately they now face the task of rebuilding the school after a major earthquake last September.
Late on Wednesday evening I rang Vodafone again. I spoke to somebody (probably based in India) who was very knowledgeable about the phone network but who talked too quickly and didn't speak up. He was just doing his job, but he bombarded me with seemingly dozens of options that would all set me back hundreds. "Slow down a bit man, you're giving me too many options." The big mistake I made was phoning at almost 11pm; I was too tired (and depressed) to take anything in. Eventually I lost the plot and threw the cordless phone across the room. I felt terrible that I completely lost it like that in front of Mum. The front of the handset had come off but I snapped it back into place. He was still on the end of the phone! "Sorry but I'll have to ring off." The next two days I visited a Vodafone store in town. Those shops aren't much use because they really just want to sell you stuff. The one on Lambton Quay has a bank of five funky-looking world clocks which work but are surely just for show - the hour and minute hands are identical. I couldn't tell whether it was supposed to be 3:25 or 5:15 in London although I knew that in reality it was neither. I don't know when I'll get my phone connected.
Talking of phones, yesterday Mum's mobile rang while we were in the flat but she couldn't find it. I then rang her phone to locate it, but as I moved around the flat the ring never really got any louder. We did find her phone in the end. It was in the fridge.
The wedding. The main event. I didn't go to the wedding, just to the reception, but that was more than enough for me. The food was good and while the speeches dragged they did have a couple of moments of real poignancy. I ate too much and drank more than I normally do (which still wasn't that much). The tables weren't numbered but were given "meaningful" names - ours was called Castle Island after the town in Ireland from where Mum's great-grandfather emigrated in the 1870s (our family visited the town when I was ten). Despite Mum's efforts she couldn't persuade me to dance. It was good for the family to get together, even though the whole idea of travelling hundreds of miles and taking time off work to attend a wedding of someone who you share a few strands of DNA with but hardly know seems a bit ridiculous to me. I saw my aunt and uncle from Auckland for the first time in years (I worked in the same company as him from 2004 to '06). At around half-nine all that hip-hop crap started blaring out and I wished I could have changed the station.
Yesterday lunchtime they put on another wedding party at some friend's million-dollar-plus waterfront bach (bach!) but Mum and I didn't go. We were able to use all the packing (for my move) as an excuse. The two things I wanted to avoid, above all, were drinking and talking. Last night though we did have a much smaller non-wedding-related dinner at my cousin's place.
Tonight will be the last time I sleep in this flat. The block looks a bit grotty from the outside but I get a lot of sun here. The extra vitamin D has given me a boost I'm sure. The next place won't quite have that. Tomorrow at 9:30am, three men are coming to shift my big items the quarter-mile or so into the new flat. Mum has been very helpful with a mixture of organising all my bits and pieces and motivating me to organise myself. This weekend only three people have used the word "exciting" to describe my move. Mum flies back tomorrow afternoon.
Yesterday morning I found the time to play three games of Countdown when Mum was here, winning two of them. I won the first game - at the time I didn't seem to play very well but looking back I did better than I thought with some tricky selections of letters. In the second I finished strongly but was still fortunate to win. With four rounds to play I was 14 points down but I found SAINTLY to halve the arrears. We both then got ATTEMPTS for eight and a difficult numbers game ensued. I got three away and expected to be beaten but my opponent blanked so we were tied going into the conundrum. PRROTESTS seemed to leave us both stumped but only having two vowels and knowing that conundrums are never plurals ending in S, at least I had something to go on. I saw SPORT and then buzzed in with SPORTSTER (which I wasn't sure was even a word) with under three seconds to go. Apparently it is a word, so I won the game and avoided a tie-breaker. In the third game I faced a better player; my first-ever nine-letter word (SHARPENED) gave me 18 points and a slightly flattering (for me) 11-point loss.
Showing posts with label wedding. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wedding. Show all posts
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Feeling flat
I'm now officially the owner of my... what do you actually call it? It's not a house, I know that much. One word I see far too much of is unit, which sounds so cold, industrial, lifeless, certainly not somewhere I'd want to live. Everything these days seems to be called a unit, as if people are too lazy to think of the proper word. Apartment might be the proper term for what I've bought, but even that sounds a bit American - why use one syllable when three will do? - so from now on I'll stick to flat.
If I had a dollar for every time someone used the word "exciting" to describe the purchase of my flat, I could buy... a damn good bottle of wine. I stopped getting excited some time in 2008 I think. I mentioned this to my dad over Christmas; he said "you're not an old man you know." I know, and my inability to get excited any more is a problem. Not only that, but there never seems to be anything on the horizon to look forward to, even when there logically should be. The only thing I really enjoy these days is food. My medication needs to be seriously looked at.
Mum is coming to visit tomorrow. She'll be helping with my moving and packing (and getting my A into G, instead of E flat or wherever it's been of late) although that wasn't why she came up. My cousin is getting married on Friday; Mum and Dad were invited but of course Dad is still in the UK. This isn't my female cousin who lives in Wadestown (she's been married since 1998 I think) but a male cousin who lives in Hataitai. He and I have a lot in common. For a start, two of his grandparents were exactly the same people as two of mine. We also both have a chubby face. And we were born less than a month apart - I was born on 20th April '80, which is an interesting birthday because 20 × 4 = 80; his birthday is 16th May '80 (16 × 5 = 80).
My cousin and I are quite different. He exudes confidence and enthusiasm; I don't exude much at all. Because my dad couldn't make it I got a last-minute invite. I'd have been more than happy to miss it. I said as much to Mum. "But there will lots of family there and everyone will be dancing..." Exactly. "And the food..." Well there is that I suppose. I won't be going to the wedding itself, just the reception.
The autism group, which took quite a long break while a new facilitator was recruited - went well last night. We've got a new host - she's from Holland but (unsurprisingly) speaks very good English.
I had a few more games of Countdown over the long weekend. I've now had ten wins and eight losses, avoiding the walking dictionaries and calculators who have appeared on TV (you can tell who they are) but all bar one of my opponents seemed decent enough. In one game I was pretty happy to find ADROIT for six but I my opponent found ROOIKAT (huh?) for seven. Funnily enough I didn't win that game.
If I had a dollar for every time someone used the word "exciting" to describe the purchase of my flat, I could buy... a damn good bottle of wine. I stopped getting excited some time in 2008 I think. I mentioned this to my dad over Christmas; he said "you're not an old man you know." I know, and my inability to get excited any more is a problem. Not only that, but there never seems to be anything on the horizon to look forward to, even when there logically should be. The only thing I really enjoy these days is food. My medication needs to be seriously looked at.
Mum is coming to visit tomorrow. She'll be helping with my moving and packing (and getting my A into G, instead of E flat or wherever it's been of late) although that wasn't why she came up. My cousin is getting married on Friday; Mum and Dad were invited but of course Dad is still in the UK. This isn't my female cousin who lives in Wadestown (she's been married since 1998 I think) but a male cousin who lives in Hataitai. He and I have a lot in common. For a start, two of his grandparents were exactly the same people as two of mine. We also both have a chubby face. And we were born less than a month apart - I was born on 20th April '80, which is an interesting birthday because 20 × 4 = 80; his birthday is 16th May '80 (16 × 5 = 80).
My cousin and I are quite different. He exudes confidence and enthusiasm; I don't exude much at all. Because my dad couldn't make it I got a last-minute invite. I'd have been more than happy to miss it. I said as much to Mum. "But there will lots of family there and everyone will be dancing..." Exactly. "And the food..." Well there is that I suppose. I won't be going to the wedding itself, just the reception.
The autism group, which took quite a long break while a new facilitator was recruited - went well last night. We've got a new host - she's from Holland but (unsurprisingly) speaks very good English.
I had a few more games of Countdown over the long weekend. I've now had ten wins and eight losses, avoiding the walking dictionaries and calculators who have appeared on TV (you can tell who they are) but all bar one of my opponents seemed decent enough. In one game I was pretty happy to find ADROIT for six but I my opponent found ROOIKAT (huh?) for seven. Funnily enough I didn't win that game.
Monday, October 10, 2011
I don't get it
I've never been diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome and I don't plan on getting a diagnosis, but lately I've been pondering a few of the things so-called "normal" people do that I find quite baffling:
1. Dancing.
I can't remember when I last danced. It was definitely in 19-something. Unlike some of the other items on my list, I really wish I did get dancing because some people really seem to enjoy it. In a way I do get it - music is extremely evocative; hear a song on the radio and I'll be transported back to where I first heard it, possibly ten or twenty years ago. Sometimes I'll involuntarily tap my foot to music I like, and dancing is just an extension of foot-tapping. But the bit I really don't understand is when everyone decides to dance in a big group at a nightclub or somewhere similar. Why there, why not at Pak 'n' Save or any of the other places you hear music? Someone once tried to explain it to me along the lines of "Pak 'n Save is shopping, nightclubs are social" but that didn't cut any ice with me.
2. Buying clothes.
This could be a man thing as much as an Aspie thing, but why do people keep buying new clothes to replace their perfectly good "old" (but really still quite new) ones? I understand that clothes serve various purposes - to keep you warm and to express oneself being two obvious ones - but buying the latest style achieves very little by way of self-expression. Plus getting rid of perfectly good clothes is very wasteful. I do buy clothes from time to time, mostly from second-hand shops or on TradeMe. On the odd occasion I buy something from a standard clothes shop, it's usually for work purposes.
3. Leaving someone's house.
When I was growing up, I could never understand why someone would say "right, I'd better be off now" at 8:30 and still bloody well be there at five to nine. It still confuses me now. What is it, some kind of game? If so, how come nobody explained the rules to me.
4. Watching sport on TV.
I watch less sport than I used to, but the rugby World Cup has made me think of this. I've never seen the attraction of watching sport on TV in a large group, such as in a pub, when I can do so from the comfort of my home where I can see the screen and hear the commentary but can't smell other people's bodies.
5. Weddings.
Do I really have to elaborate? One of the (male!) presenters on breakfast TV recently said "weddings, they're just so much fun" and I had to switch over. However, if a really close friend of mine were ever to get married, I'd be so happy for that person that I'm sure I'd find the occasion a very joyous one.
1. Dancing.
I can't remember when I last danced. It was definitely in 19-something. Unlike some of the other items on my list, I really wish I did get dancing because some people really seem to enjoy it. In a way I do get it - music is extremely evocative; hear a song on the radio and I'll be transported back to where I first heard it, possibly ten or twenty years ago. Sometimes I'll involuntarily tap my foot to music I like, and dancing is just an extension of foot-tapping. But the bit I really don't understand is when everyone decides to dance in a big group at a nightclub or somewhere similar. Why there, why not at Pak 'n' Save or any of the other places you hear music? Someone once tried to explain it to me along the lines of "Pak 'n Save is shopping, nightclubs are social" but that didn't cut any ice with me.
2. Buying clothes.
This could be a man thing as much as an Aspie thing, but why do people keep buying new clothes to replace their perfectly good "old" (but really still quite new) ones? I understand that clothes serve various purposes - to keep you warm and to express oneself being two obvious ones - but buying the latest style achieves very little by way of self-expression. Plus getting rid of perfectly good clothes is very wasteful. I do buy clothes from time to time, mostly from second-hand shops or on TradeMe. On the odd occasion I buy something from a standard clothes shop, it's usually for work purposes.
3. Leaving someone's house.
When I was growing up, I could never understand why someone would say "right, I'd better be off now" at 8:30 and still bloody well be there at five to nine. It still confuses me now. What is it, some kind of game? If so, how come nobody explained the rules to me.
4. Watching sport on TV.
I watch less sport than I used to, but the rugby World Cup has made me think of this. I've never seen the attraction of watching sport on TV in a large group, such as in a pub, when I can do so from the comfort of my home where I can see the screen and hear the commentary but can't smell other people's bodies.
5. Weddings.
Do I really have to elaborate? One of the (male!) presenters on breakfast TV recently said "weddings, they're just so much fun" and I had to switch over. However, if a really close friend of mine were ever to get married, I'd be so happy for that person that I'm sure I'd find the occasion a very joyous one.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Headache
I went downhill almost immediately after submitting my previous post, to a point I haven't reached in months. I think my feelings as a result of the wedding, basically that everyone else's lives were sorted out while mine was in an impossible mess, had come to a head. Just before I left my parents' house yesterday I banged my head on the edge of the living-room door, rather like I used to do with the tennis racket. Andy (the guru I see once a week) suggested I stop playing tennis; avoiding doors isn't quite so easy. I definitely think I could benefit from avoiding weddings however. When I finally got home last night (I had to wait nearly an hour for the ferry), I was depressed, exhausted and totally lacking in energy. I also had a sore head.
I played two poker tournaments today; I didn't feel good for much else. My progress in this morning's single draw had the makings of a big finish, but the turning point came when I ended up folding a pat smooth nine. I never recovered and I was extremely lucky to sneak into the 21st and last payout place. I made a strong start to the badugi but quickly found myself languishing at half the average stack. Then, in the space of ten hands, I was twice dealt pat 10-9s. Each time I had no choice but to put my tournament life on the line as a 62% favourite, but both times they held up for me, and suddenly I had a healthy pile of chips. At the final table I drew two in the big blind, made a monster, and eliminated two players in one hand. I went card dead after that and when we got down to three I was the short stack. I outlasted my nearest competitor but was massively outgunned when we got heads up. Though I could make no inroads into my opponent's huge stack, I was more than happy to take second place out of 97 players for a profit of just over US$30.
I got a surprise phone call from Bazza today. I hadn't spoken to him since Christmas - he moved to Papakura in December and I didn't have his number.
Tomorrow I hope to see some recruitment agencies in person rather than on the phone where they're more likely to fob me off. This was something I'd planned for today but I wouldn't exactly have showed myself in my best light. I hope to see Andy in the afternoon.
I played two poker tournaments today; I didn't feel good for much else. My progress in this morning's single draw had the makings of a big finish, but the turning point came when I ended up folding a pat smooth nine. I never recovered and I was extremely lucky to sneak into the 21st and last payout place. I made a strong start to the badugi but quickly found myself languishing at half the average stack. Then, in the space of ten hands, I was twice dealt pat 10-9s. Each time I had no choice but to put my tournament life on the line as a 62% favourite, but both times they held up for me, and suddenly I had a healthy pile of chips. At the final table I drew two in the big blind, made a monster, and eliminated two players in one hand. I went card dead after that and when we got down to three I was the short stack. I outlasted my nearest competitor but was massively outgunned when we got heads up. Though I could make no inroads into my opponent's huge stack, I was more than happy to take second place out of 97 players for a profit of just over US$30.
I got a surprise phone call from Bazza today. I hadn't spoken to him since Christmas - he moved to Papakura in December and I didn't have his number.
Tomorrow I hope to see some recruitment agencies in person rather than on the phone where they're more likely to fob me off. This was something I'd planned for today but I wouldn't exactly have showed myself in my best light. I hope to see Andy in the afternoon.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Once in a no moon
The lunar cycle takes approximately 29½ days; the average month is slightly longer so you occasionally get two full moons in the same month. The second of these is known as a blue moon, and occurs every second or third year, hence the phrase "once in a blue moon". A far more unusual event is happening this month, on this side of the planet at least, for February won't have a full moon at all. I don't know what the technical term for this is, but I'd tend to call it a "no moon".
Moon or no moon, February is now upon us, so I've now officially been boring people rigid with my inane ramblings for a whole year. I like to think I've made some steps in the right direction in that time, but the last couple of days clearly show that I've got a considerable way to go.
All that wedding stuff is finally over and I'll be heading back to Auckland later today. I'm glad about that. About 85 people attended the wedding; it turns out I was invited after all. The church bit was fine, but predictably I found the reception an ordeal. Worst of all were the speeches. Everybody spoke at length and with a remarkable level of confidence. Where do they get it from I wonder? Of course there were endless jokes, or rather anecdotes, the sort of jokes that Kiwis love and I struggle with. It's not that I don't get them, just that I personally don't find them funny. My cousin and her husband are successful people. They've been living in London for the last two years, making a lot of moolah and travelling extensively throughout Europe and beyond. They've been everywhere. Partout. Dappertutto. As I listened to tales of what they got up to on their ski trips or at the running of the bulls in Pamplona or the Palio in Siena, I really just wanted to crawl into a hole. After the dinner and speeches there was dancing of course, but I successfully escaped that. We were home around 11:30 in time to see the end of the men's Australian Open final. What a finish it was. I felt a bit sorry for Murray - he was unlucky not to at least win a set, and it was obvious after the match how much it meant to him.
The next day we had what they call the after-match function. I ate and drank almost non-stop, not because I needed (or even wanted) any of it but because it gave me something to do. I've now learnt to stick to beer rather than wine at these sorts of events, because you can drink much more of it without having to pay for it later. I did also make some conversation - my extended family are good people on the whole, and there are one or two I'm able to talk to reasonably easily. Somebody, who obviously doesn't know me that well, was desperately trying to convince me to go on an Outward Bound course.
There are no more family weddings on the horizon (though someone from the tennis club is tying the knot the weekend after next, and I'll be going to the reception). Last weekend Mum said to me, "wouldn't it be nice to go to your wedding one day?" I imagine that day will be some time after the next no moon.
Moon or no moon, February is now upon us, so I've now officially been boring people rigid with my inane ramblings for a whole year. I like to think I've made some steps in the right direction in that time, but the last couple of days clearly show that I've got a considerable way to go.
All that wedding stuff is finally over and I'll be heading back to Auckland later today. I'm glad about that. About 85 people attended the wedding; it turns out I was invited after all. The church bit was fine, but predictably I found the reception an ordeal. Worst of all were the speeches. Everybody spoke at length and with a remarkable level of confidence. Where do they get it from I wonder? Of course there were endless jokes, or rather anecdotes, the sort of jokes that Kiwis love and I struggle with. It's not that I don't get them, just that I personally don't find them funny. My cousin and her husband are successful people. They've been living in London for the last two years, making a lot of moolah and travelling extensively throughout Europe and beyond. They've been everywhere. Partout. Dappertutto. As I listened to tales of what they got up to on their ski trips or at the running of the bulls in Pamplona or the Palio in Siena, I really just wanted to crawl into a hole. After the dinner and speeches there was dancing of course, but I successfully escaped that. We were home around 11:30 in time to see the end of the men's Australian Open final. What a finish it was. I felt a bit sorry for Murray - he was unlucky not to at least win a set, and it was obvious after the match how much it meant to him.
The next day we had what they call the after-match function. I ate and drank almost non-stop, not because I needed (or even wanted) any of it but because it gave me something to do. I've now learnt to stick to beer rather than wine at these sorts of events, because you can drink much more of it without having to pay for it later. I did also make some conversation - my extended family are good people on the whole, and there are one or two I'm able to talk to reasonably easily. Somebody, who obviously doesn't know me that well, was desperately trying to convince me to go on an Outward Bound course.
There are no more family weddings on the horizon (though someone from the tennis club is tying the knot the weekend after next, and I'll be going to the reception). Last weekend Mum said to me, "wouldn't it be nice to go to your wedding one day?" I imagine that day will be some time after the next no moon.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Wedding crasher
I'm writing this from the other end of the country; I'm down here for my cousin's wedding which, unusually, is on a Sunday. I can't say I'm overly excited about it. Big social occasions are tricky for me at the best of times, but I find weddings especially hard to relate to; getting married is something other people do.
I've just seen my aunt and uncle; I get on well with them. I thought they'd be going to the wedding tomorrow, but due to some family politics I don't understand, they weren't invited. Come to think of it I don't remember getting an invite either. Perhaps my name was tacked on the end of my parents' invitation, or else I've come all this way to gatecrash a wedding I don't particularly want to go to. I guess I'll find out.
I thoroughly enjoyed last week's Italian course. I was surprised by the sheer number of people on it; there must have been forty, the vast majority of them women. It was interesting hearing people's reasons for learning the language. A lot of people had trips planned, some had an Italian speaker in the family or were even married to one, while a few were doing it for the sheer hell of it. Most interesting were a vulcanologist who is about to spend three years on the foothills of Etna, and another woman of about my age who owns a house over there (that got me thinking). On the last day we had to make up a short sketch in groups of about six and perform it in front of the class. I was an Aussie bloke buying lingerie from a boutique in Rome. This was good for me because it took me out of my comfort zone. My knowledge of Italian improved considerably over the five days, though confidence is always an issue for me, and I have an unfortunate knack of forgetting languages as fast as I learn them.
On Wednesday night I played pétanque with Phil; he wondered what I was still doing in Auckland now that I'm not working. The simple answer is that I don't want to have to start from scratch again. Not yet anyway. As flimsy as my social network is, it's a lot better than nothing. I did win the pétanque, not that it mattered, but one of our games ended in the most dramatic of fashions. With the scores locked at 12-all I was sitting pretty, just inches from the jack, when Phil supplanted my boule with his last throw. Then, with my final attempt, I did the same to him. If they ever make a Hollywood movie based on pétanque, they won't be able to top that. Boules Up. I can see it now.
I've just seen my aunt and uncle; I get on well with them. I thought they'd be going to the wedding tomorrow, but due to some family politics I don't understand, they weren't invited. Come to think of it I don't remember getting an invite either. Perhaps my name was tacked on the end of my parents' invitation, or else I've come all this way to gatecrash a wedding I don't particularly want to go to. I guess I'll find out.
I thoroughly enjoyed last week's Italian course. I was surprised by the sheer number of people on it; there must have been forty, the vast majority of them women. It was interesting hearing people's reasons for learning the language. A lot of people had trips planned, some had an Italian speaker in the family or were even married to one, while a few were doing it for the sheer hell of it. Most interesting were a vulcanologist who is about to spend three years on the foothills of Etna, and another woman of about my age who owns a house over there (that got me thinking). On the last day we had to make up a short sketch in groups of about six and perform it in front of the class. I was an Aussie bloke buying lingerie from a boutique in Rome. This was good for me because it took me out of my comfort zone. My knowledge of Italian improved considerably over the five days, though confidence is always an issue for me, and I have an unfortunate knack of forgetting languages as fast as I learn them.
On Wednesday night I played pétanque with Phil; he wondered what I was still doing in Auckland now that I'm not working. The simple answer is that I don't want to have to start from scratch again. Not yet anyway. As flimsy as my social network is, it's a lot better than nothing. I did win the pétanque, not that it mattered, but one of our games ended in the most dramatic of fashions. With the scores locked at 12-all I was sitting pretty, just inches from the jack, when Phil supplanted my boule with his last throw. Then, with my final attempt, I did the same to him. If they ever make a Hollywood movie based on pétanque, they won't be able to top that. Boules Up. I can see it now.
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