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Showing posts from July, 2006

A Peep at Cybering

Update: I've just realised that I put the wrong code into the Peeps link, both in the paragraph below AND in the sidebar, doh! No wonder it's come up saying I have no referrals pfft. Anyway, in the true blog whore fashion, I ask if you would be so kind as to click back on the link below again so we can try and keep me on the front page for at least 1 more day? lol I really gotta get my shit sorted on here *sigh* I've made the front page of 25Peeps.com today, and should anyone come here from that website, I've reposted this to give them something more interesting(?) to read lol. Click on the link to view some very intriguing photos on this site, some very creative ones and then others that are just plain crazy. I suspect my regular readers will know which photo is mine straight away, but if not, try and guess. Or better yet, add yourself to the Peeps gallery, it's REALLY simple! (otherwise I'd not bother having a go myself lol) Jenni's Guide to Great(?) Cy

Making Sacrifices

My apologies for not being around so much this week. I've been busy emptying cupboards and slowly getting some order back into my surroundings. For the most part I know what I'm up to and where I'm at...but my house is on the small side and has basically no storage area, so clutter gets in the way. Which frustrates me...thus, the control feels less than adequate in my mind. Some of you may have noticed via stat counters that I have been out and about, around the blog world, reading you, but not commenting so much at the moment. I'll try to recitify that this weekend as much as I can. In February last year I posted a short 'story' that I read in the book "Chicken Soup for the Soul". You may have seen it already (that series of books is very popular afterall), but this one tale in particular always helps to bring a little perspective back into my way of thinking. I choose to share it with you again today. I hope you enjoy it. *** "So you think

Trying to Control Myself

There are many things I've not asked in the past because I didn't want to hear the answers. I took it upon myself to assume I knew what the answer was going to be and never afforded the other person even the courtesy of a response. I was too scared to hear the answer. Because if what I had assumed was to be true, then things would change in a way I didn't want them to. If I had not been such a fraidy-cat of finding out the answers to those pressing questions, several things in my life would be different now. Do I regret that I never asked the questions that were bashing against the inside of my head? I can't. To regret them would mean I would not have had so many wonderful feelings and experiences come my way. Should I have asked those questions in the first place? Yes. To ask them would have cleared my head to make way for the next process. I would know for certain that it was either going to happen or it wasn't. If I loved someone and told them how I fel

In Sickness and Health...

I really must remember that when I write about a controversial or deep-seated subject that you are all going to make my brain work harder when faced with your comments the following day (due to the time zone, most of my commenting happens while I'm fast asleep at night lol). I always forget that. It's kinda like years ago before they came out with instant oven cleaners. You know, you would spray the oven with great enthusiasm at night - leave it to do it's magic...only to get up the next day and realise you had to tackle the tough stuff. This is otherwise known as 'following through'. And like you lot, an oven is not something you can put in the "Too Hard" basket lol. You've always been so terrific with your commenting and bringing up different angles to view many situations from. My previous post is no exception. I know there are married people out there that are actually aware their partners are having affairs. For whatever reasons of their own, t

To Have and To Hold...

Why is it when a man has an affair with a married woman (or several as the case can be), that he is not strung up verbally anywhere near as much as a woman doing the same thing? He can be seen as a virtual hero for some. Yet a woman will be branded a slut, skank or home-wrecker etc. It's one of those $64 million questions isn't it? Years ago, I had an affair with a married man. It didn't start out with that intention (does it ever?), and as far as the word 'affair' is concerned, it started out over the phone. Talking the talk kinda stuff, none of the skanking the skank stuff over the phone....but eventually after a few months, I went to bed with him. On two separate occasions. And despite it only being twice...it makes no difference does it? I still did it, it was still wrong. If I'd only done it once would it have been any better? Nope. I never EVER thought I would go down the road of sleeping with someone else's husband. I would never want someone to do t

Getting Involved

I have finally signed up for the "2996" project . I've been humming and haaahing about this since I saw it on Angie's site last month. Wondering if I should go ahead and join, or perhaps just hang around and look at what was happening. I'm afraid I've always been a procastinator extraordinare. Anyway, I did it. And as you can see on my sidebar at the right there, I have been given the name of the person I will be writing about and posting on here, on September 11 this year....the 5th anniversary of such a terrible and mind-numbing tragedy. I've been googling Michael (Mikey) Paul Ragusa....found quite a bit about him on the web. He was a firefighter with Engine 250 and 279. The more I read about him, the more I became nervous about the task I'd taken on. What if I don't do the memory of this brave young man justice? After thinking about that for a while, I realised it didn't matter how I felt about it in some respects, but more importan

May I Borrow Your Pen?

Due to a high risk of any new readers that might stumble across my page, thinking I'm a Bitchy Ho 100% of the time, I need to put up something now that will shove my previous post down a bit. No news on the car downstairs unfortunately. Besides the fact that they came onto my property and took something that didn't belong to them...the scarier part of this for me, is that they had possibly been watching the house for awhile. I could be wrong. But for them to steal his car between 3am and 5.30? They either followed him home that night, or had been watching my home and the routine of it's residents. Even scarier, but possibly with a different result...what IF Cameron was actually starting work at 5am that day? It's not unheard of. We would've been down in the garage by 4.30am that morning and may have interrupted them. Doesn't bear thinking about. Nuff of that...I don't have anything else to tell you...so I shall consult my latest oracle and post a question an

I'll Do It My Way

No period today...so yeah, I'm a bitch... who knew?? *cough* Anyway, as I was eating a handful of jellybeans (yay!) this afternoon, I was watching Dr Phil...(don't give me any shit about that, occasionally I catch a programme or two of his ok?)...and he was talking to some personal trainer come gym guru. This gym guru man said that you have to break a sweat to achieve any fat burning in your bod....he emphasised the "HAVE". For the past 10 days, besides two half-hearted attempts, I've done no exercise whatsoever. I've been unwell and that completely got me out of the habit of pushing my body. So I figured it was time I did something that broke a sweat again. The more I thought about it, the less I felt like getting on my airwalker or falling off the swiss ball. So I went and did the next best thing for my body. And trust me, I broke a sweat good and proper...score! The fat burning gremlins yelled "BE GONE!" 5 orgasms later, I stumbled back ou

Sweet Child of Mine

Tonight I have an unbelievable craving for something sweet. The more I've been thinking about it, the more I've pinned my sweet craving on jellybeans. I need jellybeans. My body is screaming out for Jellybeans. Of course, there are none in the house, and I'm already showered and wearing my PJs. It's cold and windy outside...so I have no intention whatsoever of going down to the shop to buy any. My teenagers seem hell bent on doing just about everything they can to deliberately irritate me. My oldest son in particular. So after asking several times for them to settle down and them ignoring me...I blew a gasket...almost to the point of stamping my feet. Then I felt like crying after yelling at them both. Please keep your fingers crossed that tomorrow I get my period. I don't know what I'll do if I have to come to the conclusion, that the actual reason I'm feeling like this is because I really am a bitch deep down inside. That would suck big time...especial

What a Gas....Not

Yesterday for the first time in what seemed like ages...the sun came out. This means...the rain stopped. The people of Wellington rejoiced!....HOORAH! During the past week with the rain and wind storms, my beloved Betty got blown over into the bushes...that's my 4 burner BBQ by the way...and thanks to my mate Fred, that's what we call her. Anyway, my male tenant downstairs very kindly put Betty back on her feet. It was a good day to give her a complete cleaning overhaul and carry her down to the garage for safekeeping over the winter. Now I say it's a garage...and in most respects it is one...yet it has no doors, so I guess it would be better called a carport. This 'carport' holds up the rest of my house and the flat below. Any carport I've ever seen has never looked sturdy enough to hold up two levels, so for all intensive purposes, it's a double garage...without doors. That afternoon I pulled Betty apart as much as I could and cleaned her down good and pro

Battle Scars

This past Saturday has been a poignant and enlightening one for me. 1st of July 2006 marked the 90th anniversary of the first day of the Battle of the Somme. Almost 20,000 soldiers lost their lives that day...many of them in the first four hours...and that's only the British. French, Canadians, Australians, South Africans, New Zealanders, Indians....over 600,000 casualties in that one battle alone. And that's not even counting the Germans...more hundreds of thousands of soldiers. Fathers, brothers, sons and uncles, each and every one of them. I watched some of the memorial service on Saturday evening (NZ time), and what struck me most, was seeing the few elderly surviving veterans that served their countries all those years ago in this brutal war. There were both British and German soldiers present...and with a healthy mutual respect they shook hands. It wasn't personal. Men were doing what they were ordered to do and they did it proudly for what they believed in and loved

A Mummy Moment

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Cameron attended his college Prom/Ball last Friday night. He had a fantastic time dancing and mingling with his peers. It was held at the Duxton Hotel in the centre of Wellington's CBD and his father and I did a tag team kinda thing as far as getting him to wherever he wanted/needed to be that night. He didn't want to attend the after-party which had been organised for a venue in town, he wanted to go to the one that was close to home. He said he would prefer not be in town on a Friday night if he was going to be drinking....he also said that 'just in case' he actually got drunk he wanted to come home to his own bed (as opposed to sleeping in his bed at Dad's house where he was staying that weekend). (and before you saying anything, yes I know Ryan needs a haircut, I'm working on it lol) We both readily understood and organised which one of us was going to be where and when. Dad took him into town around 8pm...and went back in at 12.15am to collect him, bringing

Dogs, Hair, Oysters, Munching, Sperm and Poo!

EDIT: My mate Freddy has a friend called Clair, who has a gorgeous dog named Hogan , who is involved in an online competition that needs votes to give him the edge over his competitors. I just voted myself and pushed him into first equal...how cool is that ? Please click HERE and vote for Hogan and help this wee doggie and his owner to win. The competition closes on the 4th of July and the winner is announced on the 5th. I have no idea what they win, but hell, all good stuff...one small leap for dogkind and all that. (Click on Freddy's name to see a photo of this lovely canine.) Thanks :D 1. What's up with the ear hair? [ Getting Older] You lose the hair where you want it, and gain it in all those other unsightly places. Bushy eyebrows, excessive nasal hair and hairy ears certainly don't make you anxious to get older do they? Sometimes the excessive growth of hair on the ears is genetic and is linked to the Y chromosome, the sex chromosome found only in males, which e