Quality Time

So I'm back home now, back on the island, back in my office swivel chair, back to reality. I've just returned from spending ten days in Auckland with the family. It had occured to me to write something while I was in New Zealand... but I thought to myself, I'm sitting here on the couch chowing down on Wendy's frozen yogurt and Maling's Takeaway chicken nibbles watching reruns of Oprah and The Bold and the Beautiful... why should I get off the couch? WHY? There's just no logic. And then in a flash that miniscule thought I had to blog got lost somewhere in Sammy's evil deception and Oprah's Jamie Foxx interview. However now that I am back at work, the importance of blogging in my life has miraculously been reinstated.

So thinking back to what I did in NZ. In short, I did an obscenely disgusting of amount eating, getting drunk, walching trash TV Soaps and eating. There was also some sprinklings of movies, family visiting and shopping in there as well. So much for quality time. What is quality time anyways? I'd rather watch TV. lol.

I have no idea why but TV makes me cry. This is embarrasing to admit but it makes me cry even more so than real life traumas. Especially that bloody Exteme Makeover Home Edition show. It has me balling every episode, without fail. Never mind that the show is really about advertising Sears and the companies that build the houses than it is about the families that get gifted new houses. And push aside the issue of how the previously homeless and jobless occupants of these homes will be able to maintain living in such luxury accomodation. The commercialism in more recent shows has become a bit too obvious with the stories not being as genuine and gut wrentching as they seemed in early episodes. Despite knowing all this, I'm just not ready to let go of the tissue box yet. I feel like such a sucker, but I don't care. Monday's at 7.30pm on 2, people! It wasn't all just trash TV though. I also managed to fit in some good TV with daily episodes of The Simpsons, Dr. Phil, Everybody loves Raymond, Oprah and Home and Away occupying my time. Not to forget getting the latest on Grey's Anatomy, Ghost Whisperer, House and Desperate Housewives. I was also abruptly reminded why I hate watching Nip/Tuck.

Living here in a house with virtually no food (or is it coz I'm never home?) I had forgotten what it was like to have food constantly dangled in my face, and to have pork chops and spaghetti bolognaise dance around and grab at me when I'm trying to watch Dr. Phil. I was abruptly reminded when I was there. A flood of pasta shells and taro floored me when I opened the door on arrival. I suppose, some deeper part of me had known that I was bound to reawaken sleeping food demons that had lain dormant for... the flight over. Never one to let good food go to waste, I took to the challenge with gusto. I overloaded my system with St. Pierre of Japan (who knew Shintoism had Saints?) Sushi and pork chops. I had pork chops and taro for breakfast on more than one occasion. I've always thanked my Dad for my healthy upbringing.

My excessive consumption of food was only matched my equally impressive alcohol consumption. It was hard not to get carried away with so much damn celebrating to be done. Good Friday, Easter Sunday, Easter Monday and lest we forget ANZAC day. Lest we forget! God Bless those war veteran people. Of course there was my brother's 18th birthday. He was knocking back the Woodstock like a pro. My sister and I were so proud. He still has a ways to go in the dancing stakes but hey, with sisters like he has, he's not to worry. Nights out involved copius amounts of Red bull and vodka and one particularly memorable incident where I wanted to slap a girl who was disillusioned into thinking she was on the stage version of the Nutcracker doing twirly ballet moves to Nelly's "Let me see ya Grillz" only to hit me square in the face with her untidy hair. She looked all of about twelve years old so I thought that someone had probably spiked her milk bottle or something. I decided to leave her to bask in her ugliness and wondered back to the bar for a comforting shot of Absynthe. So it was like that day after day and night after night. Getting excessively fed and getting horridly drunk. The only word I can think to descibe the ordeal was delicio-..disgusting. Utterly disgusting! As a direct result, I am the proud bearer of at least five new kilograms.

I'm not sure how I managed to fit this in amidst my eating rampage but I managed to spend long days checking out the shopping bargains. Emphasis on bargains. Dressmart robbed me, my brother and sister of all cash and coinage we took with us that day. I was disappointed that most of the stock was winter stock but who am I for the seasons to change right? Same story on Queen Street with the Winter stock and not the same story with the bargains. I don't anybody on Queen Street understands the concept of bargains. Only of fake sales (Was $250.00, now $245.99!) and overpriced crap. Needless to say, a lot of what I bought that day, I bought at my old friend St. Pierres. My only regret in the whole trip was not buying these glorious brown and gold open toe wedge heels. I had every intention of buy them and then decided I would look at Mi Piaci at Dressmart first and when I did I then decided to forgo the green round toe pumps at Mi Piaci for the wedge heels and then my sister bought Ugg boots and I splurged on clothes and (yes more) food and then we just never got round to it (ie. ran out of money). Oh well. Spilt milk. Don't cry for it. *Takes a shaky breath*

So as anyone who isn't blind can see, my time in Auckland was spent... rather satisfyingly. I don't recall whether it was when we were singing songs bothering the neighbours in alcohol induced "I'm Idol potential" moments. Or when it was when my sister and I started talking with Indian accents (which we now can't shake) about how "Dtotally hodt Ferdgie is". But somewhere in the midst of it all I decided that I knew what Quality Time was.


sita said…
Sounds like you was had a lot of the funs and foods aplenty. Fank it to your family. It was cood to have u back. I was feeling chealous for all that TV watching u was did, esp. for the Extreme HomeMaker over. I was dont care about why the fecking losers need houses - I was just like to see new houses. Full stop it!
fotu of samoa said…
lol. Not surprised that you was like the house! That be some FLASH new housing. I was always wonder how the hell the poor people are going to pay their huge power bills and keep their Olympic sized swimming pool clean. They was end up back on the streets after a year. Oh well, I was like you - chus chalous! haha.

I was luff it to be back (sort of)

Fank it to you for da comments!
t!@ said…
LOL@the indian accents...after hearing your immitation today at lunch i was gant helb ed but grag-ed ub at dat!har! It was sound loyke u was have hibs and hibs (not to mention someone was want to HOLD ur hibs!heh!) of fun! It was kood to haff u pag on dee oye-land eh pro...i was da chalous of all da St Pierre's sushi doe! I was drooling all ova...my place...and i fink i was need someone to gum and wipe me off!lol.
Shark Girl said…
Ewww Tia...you was stob being a baby and wipe your own drool. Lol.

Yeah I was akree wif the Sita Blunt. We was habby to have you pack safe and sound. Glad you had a good break. What's a holiday if you was got no food and TV and alcohol? Hehe.

Oi did Tia was tell you about her encounter wif the Meta? LOL.
fotu of samoa said…
LMAO! NO! Did it involve the words "Run for the hills my child?" LOL...

Share... NOW!
t!@ said…
LOL! No Fotu I was run before dose words were sboken...Nyds was just tell me HORROR story after HORROR story about the nite you was out wif dem!har! Oh my cushion! I was a SCARY!lol.

Netta said she was see him on tuesday wif cheeku...i was like...that's nice...AHHHHHHHHHHH!hehe.