You can't beat Wellington on a good day

It's true. You just can't. You can, however, have the best first view of Wellington (rounding that final corner on the motorway, coming into the harbour) utterly destroyed for you by a ranting bus driver intent on telling his victims/passengers exactly why the lights at Waikanae are to blame for the constant traffic jams on State Highway 1. If only Helen Clark would drive to Auckland - it'd get fixed quick smart, etc.

But I digress. I love Wellington. It is the most beautiful city in the world - it was only with a great deal of self control that I managed to not stroke the pavement/houses/sea/Fin clothing shop with a loving hand. Instead I lavished affection on the smaller sister and gave out hugs to people I know there. And there was much catching up and meeting of people's new special friends (I go away for six months and everyone gets lucky - was it me that prevented this from happening before - was I the blight?). Gen's flat had drinks so I whipped out the gin and made sausage rolls like some sort of adult and proceeded to talk nonsense until 4am with old chums and woke up at 9am to go shopping - with no hangover. Possibly I was still mildly intoxicated - but I prefer to think that I have managed to tame the booze.

And then there were new clothes and the elation that goes with that, which carried me all through waiting for the airbus and the plane to Christchurch and the baggage carousel and falling into Fi's arms, whereupon she said all the right things, such as 'I like your ring, and your shoes, and your jacket', proving once again that we are friends for all the right reasons.

So now Christchurch until Thursday. So far I've been sleeping a great deal, and have managed to seduce Fi's cat into sleeping on my bed, instead of hers - worst night's sleep ever. Cat needs a lot of affection and enjoys kneading one's body with her claws.

I finally got my new credit card and it looks hungry for action so I'd better buy a few more things - just to make sure it works as it should. And I got all my money (overdraft) back from the bank after the bad people stole it in Bulgaria so it's shaping up to be a top week.

On the looking for toilets when desperate front - Fi demonstrated that the law library is pretty good, as is George's mum's house - but only when you can get a park outside it, otherwise the service station round the corner is quite acceptable.

Only one sour note about Wellington - I seem to have fleas. I'm not criticising - just making a note. It could have been a really rampant mosquito, actually. Probably was. I'd prefer it to be that. Yes, that's what it was. Not fleas at all. Ignore that first bit.

Hypothetical question for the week - should one have to go to the baby shower of someone that one cannot stand but is sort of related to? And before my family starts wondering which family member is eating for two - this is not about me for once - just a situation that seems to have arisen for someone else. Should you have to go especially if the mum to be is going to be passively aggressive to one as well? Because you can't slap pregnant women. I was thinking, after watching Good Morning today, where they had a doctor demonstrating a very phallic aid for helping with pelvic muscles after having babies, that perhaps one of these would be a good gift. Given with a saccharine sweet smile and some sort of very pink card. Does this thought make me a bad person? The actual thought made me feel warm all over - but that's not really the point, I suppose.