And I'm blonde again

Thanks to the mighty power of Bran and his scissors and bottles of magic stuff I am now blonde-ish again. And Bran has kindly pointed out that I have clean hair now. I hate Bran. It might be clean but it is also incredibly fluffy and I think I look sort of like a sheep.



Saw the rest of the Auckland gang - there were some drinks, some food, a dubious video of that Canadian who eats dental floss and then does the 'body floss' which made me retch and quite a bit of filth talk - mostly initiated by Demelza. Poor Mark came to visit and was subjected to all this.

Saw Ruthie and her new chum from Ireland. He passed my very poor interrogation and then later I realised that I had forgotten to ask him the most important question of all - how does he feel about canned pineapple?

Having been let down by Auckland's weather, I hired a car and drove to Rotorua to see Angela and Hayden. This was all good, and then it was suggested that we go out to meet Hayden's new lady. Having never been out in Rotorua, I was keen. Angela declined, suggesting, quite sensibly that having been at home sick, if she went out, the rules firmly state that she would have to bump into a workmate. So Hayden and I made sure we were not wearing steel caps and ventured out. And by golly, the effort was worth it. Never before have I seen a man dressed in leather, with a half face moko dance with sequined pom poms. And he wanted to be our friend! It was so my lucky night. However, as midnight approached, and all the university students rampaged in their togas, I decided that perhaps I ought to call it a night. And then, just as I was leaving the bar I saw that they were having a sausage sizzle. Yes! Could my night get any better? I think not. I had two and felt rather satisfied with their white-bready, oniony, tomato-saucy, nasty sausage goodness.

And then I drove to Wellington because that's where the hire car lives. On the way to Wellington I stopped in at the bank in PN so to pick up my shiny new credit card so I could pay for things. Alas, it was not to be. Apparently it had never turned up. So they ordered me another one. To be picked up in Christchurch. That's three credit cards in two weeks. A personal record.

Having thoroughly enjoyed my drive down the island, although I probably scared several people with my driving, I caught a train with Gen back up to PN, to be all family like for the weekend.

Because Gen and I were both home for the weekend and some birthdays have been and gone, we all went out for dinner in our gladrags. Sadly, the meal was not up to standard and dad told the waitress that whoever cooked his potatoes should be shot and could she please at least throw the offending veges at the chef. Shooting people seems a popular choice with the older generation as today my rather charming dentist told me that if waited another four years before I came to see him again, he'd shoot me. My tartar build up had horrified him.