tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61953032024-02-08T17:24:27.508+11:00then swing your window openinfrequent musings from maine king tut's weasel. eroicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02948285582158355117noreply@blogger.comBlogger504125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6195303.post-80064912239039091452014-06-24T21:22:00.000+10:002014-06-24T21:22:03.627+10:00<br />
<br />
dear blog<br />
<br />
i'm sorry i've neglected you.<br />
still think about you ofen, and sometimes i even visit.<br />
<br />
i'll attempt to tell you why i stopped writing.<br />
it felt too personal. like a diary. i'm not sure i want my blog to be a diary.<br />
when every entry became a love note or a note about whichever love i was falling into, the blog started to feel decidedly teenaged. cringe factor of ten.<br />
<br />
also, it's findable. there have been a couple of people who have looked it up and read it and taken offense at what i've written here. what do i do about that?<br />
the options - write impersonal content only, or stop caring who reads it.<br />
chances are neither of those two previous offense-takers even remember the address, but the lack of anonymity does concern me a little. and i know that i can't write impersonal, i don't have it in me at this point!<br />
<br />
also, these days everyone is a blogger. (why should that stop me?) <br />
blogs now seem to 'need' a theme... raw food, my 50 best fitness tips, stuff i saw on etsy and recreated. what happened to good old fashioned "the shit that is on my mind" blogging? does anyone except amanda palmer do that any more?<br />
<br />
i don't know what i want this blog to be, for now i want it to be used and updated and that is about all. so, the intention is laid out before you...<br />
<br />
i want to be a blogger again.<br />
<br />
xo <br />
<br />
<br />eroicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05489295096336063886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6195303.post-67251962219273632972013-06-19T08:16:00.005+10:002013-06-19T08:16:59.970+10:00<br />
dear Heart,<br />
I know you're there.<br />
now, please stop<br />
racing.<br />
<br />
x<br />
<br />
(too much coffee? surely not)eroicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05489295096336063886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6195303.post-36215876334039207792013-05-15T19:40:00.000+10:002013-05-15T19:40:50.874+10:00<a href="http://www.asofterworld.com/index.php?id=946">http://www.asofterworld.com/index.php?id=946</a>eroicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05489295096336063886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6195303.post-20971579317898056972013-05-13T19:20:00.003+10:002013-05-13T19:20:31.253+10:00<a href="http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.co.nz/2013/05/depression-part-two.html" target="_blank">Hello Hyperbole</a><br />
She's back.<br />
xeroicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05489295096336063886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6195303.post-83667489844305080652013-05-13T14:43:00.001+10:002013-05-13T14:45:30.636+10:00Space Oddity<a href="http://youtu.be/KaOC9danxNo" target="_blank"><br /></a>
<a href="http://youtu.be/KaOC9danxNo" target="_blank">Chris Hadfield does something beautiful</a><br />
<br />
<br />
unexpectedly moving.<br />
wow. just wow.eroicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05489295096336063886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6195303.post-57331778078366262013-02-24T07:46:00.004+11:002013-02-24T07:46:55.974+11:00Looking on the bright side<br />
Single on Sunday means<br />
<br />
Sitting at my sunny kitchen table<br />
Verve Remixed (yay for Grooveshark)<br />
Coffee in a beautiful cup<br />
Toast with tomato (grown by me and Diana)<br />
No plans at all. <br />
x<br />
<br />eroicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05489295096336063886noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6195303.post-31669609636402601182013-02-22T12:32:00.001+11:002013-02-22T12:32:06.665+11:00Hello heartbreak<div>
Two years since the big fucking earthquake that changed everything.</div>
<div>
I'm so sad today. It's been a massive couple of years, so much upheaval (literally) and pain and fear and then all the good stuff too. It was just after the earthquake that I got together with the sweetest man in the world. This week I left him.</div>
<div>
My heart is really fucking sore for so many reasons today.</div>
eroicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05489295096336063886noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6195303.post-62114550071795919132013-02-17T15:25:00.004+11:002013-02-17T15:25:50.206+11:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHMwOu8P1iE_ElbgfQobOZgaKLN00fjWgyLHdJydPNkmNFbdCPgrKSnhFjnPPS2SD4QKP971wgQyAZO_YaLLmJVt1NDc4hOYvFAwOodyYREEEPZJ45fIJa2mnraI4MALLkjNZT/s1600/IMG_6793.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHMwOu8P1iE_ElbgfQobOZgaKLN00fjWgyLHdJydPNkmNFbdCPgrKSnhFjnPPS2SD4QKP971wgQyAZO_YaLLmJVt1NDc4hOYvFAwOodyYREEEPZJ45fIJa2mnraI4MALLkjNZT/s320/IMG_6793.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>Happy fuckin' birthday, Jeffy.</b></span></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Love yer guts.</span></span></b></div>
eroicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05489295096336063886noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6195303.post-53039867995957345612013-02-08T20:45:00.001+11:002013-02-08T20:48:39.919+11:00perspective<div style="font-size: 0.8em; line-height: 1.6em; margin: 0 0 10px 0; padding: 0;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/frogstarstrikesagain/4286909417/" title="IMG_3400"><img alt="IMG_3400 by eroica.lurks" src="http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4027/4286909417_7d4d31cc2e.jpg" /></a><br />
<span style="margin: 0;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/frogstarstrikesagain/4286909417/">IMG_3400</a>, a photo by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/frogstarstrikesagain/">eroica.lurks</a> on Flickr.</span></div>
funny to think that i took this photo 3 and a bit years ago because a vacant lot in the city was such an unusual sight...<br />
<br />
and now my city looks like this (and still much of this to come down).<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPNuzmaC2IsxWFde07NjDMqC2V-WWImG80Zr29cMImApXhDqnhNuiUG2UlHOisIoBDv_4trJkpSxcSYSWTJFb2QVHHJGlar2dObFyI5HZucHfZSdDb2GSmhwoqLuhhdyDr1YGo/s1600/IMG_6891.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPNuzmaC2IsxWFde07NjDMqC2V-WWImG80Zr29cMImApXhDqnhNuiUG2UlHOisIoBDv_4trJkpSxcSYSWTJFb2QVHHJGlar2dObFyI5HZucHfZSdDb2GSmhwoqLuhhdyDr1YGo/s400/IMG_6891.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From the rooftop of C1, Dec 2012.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
eroicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02948285582158355117noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6195303.post-22841161627428557202013-01-13T10:00:00.002+11:002013-01-13T10:00:59.094+11:00I'm pining for Australia.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR5erZav6WuUsTMo1Kp0yZ8zqvrG-dbe3Vzm5IYLcHTIjm86oIpR6MvIvB0miMaLN0uR7L4LMwg6BQvrFEjKmpx2jvlsKlQXp755cV61m6YrIb3nqnJu7MQsdL1YXjNqBEg93_/s1600/P1110654.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR5erZav6WuUsTMo1Kp0yZ8zqvrG-dbe3Vzm5IYLcHTIjm86oIpR6MvIvB0miMaLN0uR7L4LMwg6BQvrFEjKmpx2jvlsKlQXp755cV61m6YrIb3nqnJu7MQsdL1YXjNqBEg93_/s320/P1110654.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
It's an almost physical feeling, this lack, this need. Not city Australia, I want rural. I want to be surrounded by rustling gumleaves and hot dry air and frightening bugs and brown slow moving water and Australians. I want to be barely moving, slowing down to that Australian summer pace of life, sitting on a veranda in the shade drinking something cool and talking shit with whoever happens to be there. I like that about my Australian life... the talking to anyone and everyone. Kiwis are more reserved I think. Friendly, but only when dragged out of our shells... Australia drags me out of my shell.<br />
x<br />
<br />eroicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05489295096336063886noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6195303.post-48393161656949991082012-12-10T18:35:00.003+11:002012-12-10T18:35:59.180+11:00noticed: the low clouds are moving faster than the high clouds. it looks snowy out there (it's not, its summer… for what that is worth here in christchurch. change is the only certainty… and all that).<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aVNj9Pl-i7I" target="_blank">i am reminded of a sweet song about a bird in the snow</a><br />
<br />i am on the search for the prefect pen. i have found one suitably named Ero. i want it. i want to write postcards with real ink and use real stamps and send them to real people. this typing just isn't the same, it doesn't fill me with quiet satisfaction the way a good pen does. so, i shall make it so. i have the power to change my small world for the better. <br />:-D<br /><br />xeeroicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05489295096336063886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6195303.post-80770883303852015892012-12-09T18:18:00.003+11:002012-12-09T18:18:44.623+11:00swan plant flowers. for greg.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj26icSlNVMXmZiQayttPJXfZd5GlfhrUj1JjLicBZbRkPvEJH61hTT3OAmD0uBZrWLjIfRMnu3lRV9QNao1CsuDr7L2V30aKyQ-l6M6RtQtj6P0xt0zumovBWf5BNHV4dh5oOc/s1600/IMG_3652.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj26icSlNVMXmZiQayttPJXfZd5GlfhrUj1JjLicBZbRkPvEJH61hTT3OAmD0uBZrWLjIfRMnu3lRV9QNao1CsuDr7L2V30aKyQ-l6M6RtQtj6P0xt0zumovBWf5BNHV4dh5oOc/s640/IMG_3652.jpg" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAsHFGHwwLbxnj4PEVzyxnasUM0M5wO7lS1GdWFS5qH-IILBmxBY1H4aq07EubZ00Zd_mFMfDN2DwbnyqKnZzCiN_IGzZPPM8G5RdD4XH6OMvb90nYcbOSKKxmFk41XRXgQ6EJ/s1600/IMG_3648.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAsHFGHwwLbxnj4PEVzyxnasUM0M5wO7lS1GdWFS5qH-IILBmxBY1H4aq07EubZ00Zd_mFMfDN2DwbnyqKnZzCiN_IGzZPPM8G5RdD4XH6OMvb90nYcbOSKKxmFk41XRXgQ6EJ/s640/IMG_3648.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />eroicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05489295096336063886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6195303.post-9771891139305386972012-12-09T10:08:00.002+11:002012-12-09T10:08:23.117+11:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO2hI4MyLUbRaFQRlAmHD7DNeyyg5b4Gyj3RZJiW9cK7xjlbH6Hi7ngWvRvFa9sEHyoQoB18g0dOUXFHixBQ83rt4WkbyVxEvExr3moWid2J8ZITJ37vD2q4_4DbVr07hzaNxa/s1600/IMG_3585.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO2hI4MyLUbRaFQRlAmHD7DNeyyg5b4Gyj3RZJiW9cK7xjlbH6Hi7ngWvRvFa9sEHyoQoB18g0dOUXFHixBQ83rt4WkbyVxEvExr3moWid2J8ZITJ37vD2q4_4DbVr07hzaNxa/s320/IMG_3585.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
it's all in a day's work. well, a work christmas party that is. thanks to gapfiller for the dance-o-mat experience, it was the perfect interlude between dinner and our shindig. eroicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05489295096336063886noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6195303.post-38684324583921763932012-12-07T21:13:00.001+11:002012-12-07T21:13:12.947+11:00here, tonight.<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=lsHjYIWRRtI" target="_blank">fire on high street </a><br />
<br />
soul destroying to see more of my beautiful city disappear. as if earthquakes weren't enough.<br />
this block of high street was home to many of my regular haunts pre-quake. makes me cry.<br />
<br />
goodnight christchurch<br />
<br />
xeeroicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05489295096336063886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6195303.post-29800321495951601972012-12-04T19:23:00.002+11:002012-12-04T19:23:37.233+11:00a little story to warm the cockles of your heart. picture this:<br />i'm driving home, window down, blasting a bit of country (of course). i'm in a left turning lane, when beside me pulls up a station wagon filled with hi-viz wearing dullards. i glanced across and sneered slightly before turning my attention back to my tune. <br />after a moment i became aware that they were yelling something at me. to be exact: "do you need a bit of cock in yer mouth?!"<br />..to which i replied at full volume, " i heard you didn't have one!"<br />so childish... so satisfying, and i laughed all the way down barbadoes st.eroicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05489295096336063886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6195303.post-21904545197870470902012-12-03T19:59:00.002+11:002012-12-03T19:59:28.944+11:00i'm going to go to bed so that i can wake up and drink coffee<br />
and then i'm going to go to work early and drink coffeeeroicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05489295096336063886noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6195303.post-75170147070993903332012-12-02T20:02:00.001+11:002012-12-02T20:02:20.220+11:00<br />
<table cellspacing="0" class="sbox1" style="width: 160px;"><tbody>
<tr><th nowrap="nowrap"><br /></th></tr>
<tr><td><i><br /></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<i><span class="hw">pour one's heart out to <span class="idir">someone</span></span>, and pour one's heart out</i><br />
<br />
<div class="ds-single">
<i>Fig.</i> to tell one's personal feelings to someone else. <span class="illustration">I didn't mean to pour my heart out to you, but I guess I just had to talk to someone.</span> <span class="illustration">She poured out her heart to her friend.</span></div>
<div class="ds-single">
<span class="illustration"> </span></div>
<div class="ds-single">
<span class="illustration"> </span></div>
eroicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05489295096336063886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6195303.post-19426405702081474542012-11-26T16:56:00.005+11:002012-12-02T20:02:39.460+11:00as an aside, when i look at <a href="http://www.cracked.com/article_19155_the-14-most-unintentionally-terrifying-statues-in-world.html" target="_blank">these pictures</a> i laugh so hard that i dribble. no joke.eroicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05489295096336063886noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6195303.post-35084198939119290862012-11-26T15:28:00.000+11:002012-11-26T15:28:03.480+11:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL22EVSE-Eib6JQBTIIto_BteuoXGgw1KWhZl0OBxOUl0pUl3NkHL3whSeUcIUsotqjlctPYkZJnJFdlzbYtxXeg6DRwHe41LX872JbSLq-ESrwF8FBFOsLmOQYwt7zY3N2GVv/s1600/poplar+lane.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL22EVSE-Eib6JQBTIIto_BteuoXGgw1KWhZl0OBxOUl0pUl3NkHL3whSeUcIUsotqjlctPYkZJnJFdlzbYtxXeg6DRwHe41LX872JbSLq-ESrwF8FBFOsLmOQYwt7zY3N2GVv/s320/poplar+lane.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
feeling a little nostalgic for past lives and other versions. how things were and how things might have been if different choices were made.<br />
not to say that i'm unhappy now, in fact i am feeling very blessed to have this version of my life. but it's such a human thing, isn't it, to wonder. or maybe it's a me thing. maybe not everyone does this!<br />
<br />
with love<br />
e<br />
eroicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05489295096336063886noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6195303.post-80869165245574751872012-11-24T20:05:00.004+11:002012-11-24T20:05:57.763+11:00today:<br /><br /><br />
<br />
<br />
quiet start, with coffee<br />
the smell of pavlova baking<br />
planning my day<br />
<br />
<br />ethiopian lunch<br />a young woman singing jazz like a pro<br />and i'm missing Ants<br /><br />making the most of a warm afternoon <br />planting tomatoes<br />documenting this broken town<br /><br />coffee with greg<br />love the new C1 <br />and the company.<br /><br />reading back through the archives<br />laughing at myself<br />a little in awe of the old (young) me<br /><br />my bed is calling<br />i'll perhaps watch a dvd,<br />it's an Antsless luxury<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />xeroicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05489295096336063886noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6195303.post-45778363286930088932012-11-17T09:23:00.000+11:002012-11-17T09:23:03.016+11:00WHEEL!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQiLMV31FEDNVs_RZErD_RPHb4K3xG5ZBPK0fq1v44S793i1ZiZPEpxxB7AKVWam51eMXIfA4ZuXvW-qD69D82wfBgFsPBuBzUqGotJdygG-h_9oaxJxm8lZaT4AtGKtjlZZNq/s1600/IMG_3126.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQiLMV31FEDNVs_RZErD_RPHb4K3xG5ZBPK0fq1v44S793i1ZiZPEpxxB7AKVWam51eMXIfA4ZuXvW-qD69D82wfBgFsPBuBzUqGotJdygG-h_9oaxJxm8lZaT4AtGKtjlZZNq/s320/IMG_3126.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
i bought myself a pottery wheel. it's a doer-upper, at this point it works but not very well. i haven't tried making anything on it yet! i'm excited at the thought of being able to lose myself for hours in the garage with the whirring of the wheel for company, churning out mountains of bowls! that's what i want to make, functional bowls and cups and more bowls and maybe a plate or two, but mostly bowls. i wish i knew where i had safely stashed my oxide pencil! (the one i used on the monkey bowls, if you remember those)<br />
what sort of bowls shall i make? i had this idea that i would give away pottery gifts for christmas, but i think that may be pushing it.. only 5 weeks away, and i haven't even got it ready to start! i joined a pottery club which is in a rural area about a half hour from home, they meet on mondays and i could possibly make it there for a couple of hours after work. there are 9 kilns out there!! electric, gas, woodfired, salt, raku, anagama... so much for me to learn if i choose to! i love the idea of eventually giving up my monday at work and making it my pottery day. i'm feeling creative again!<br />
<br />
<br />
eroicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05489295096336063886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6195303.post-35120240916837489192012-11-14T20:57:00.001+11:002012-11-14T20:57:17.399+11:00my amanda palmer adoration is re-ignited. fuck yeah.<br />
<br />
<br />eroicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05489295096336063886noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6195303.post-82885017814396574372012-08-27T15:01:00.001+10:002012-11-14T20:57:32.790+11:00I thought once that I'd be a writer.<br />
But instead I'm a reader.eroicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05489295096336063886noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6195303.post-59375388259401999342011-09-20T20:11:00.000+10:002011-09-20T20:11:38.110+10:00JEN, this is for you.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi59slH4VXH8mo3_YPykOvAZHCvuvdBUJx53gGfjgUB81ONT9rV8NHkSJr_rdlAYG9tpCF2awiOMnY2545Pg-tydS8ThPpOkrx_A0_L7jcZmS5aFaUZepDGeAw_CZSQw0DEDzsx/s1600/IMG_7789.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi59slH4VXH8mo3_YPykOvAZHCvuvdBUJx53gGfjgUB81ONT9rV8NHkSJr_rdlAYG9tpCF2awiOMnY2545Pg-tydS8ThPpOkrx_A0_L7jcZmS5aFaUZepDGeAw_CZSQw0DEDzsx/s320/IMG_7789.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Do you know about freecycle? <br />
If not, I suggest you check it out. Basically, it's a worldwide network which people use to get rid of stuff which would otherwise be sent to landfill. They offer it up on the local site, and someone else (eg. Me) emails a request to them.<br />
<br />
Anyways.<br />
So I was off to pick up some glass bottles from a freecycle guy this evening. He'd told me to come between 6 and 8pm, number 33 C** Road, the one with no letterbox and a bus stop outside.<br />
No problem. I got there, it was a bit hard to find, seeing as C** Road turns into B** Road (these are not actual road names, people, I'm attempting to preserve the identity of some weirdos. You'll soon see why I say that.) and the numbering of both is a little messed up due to a river crossing or two.<br />
I digress. Yes, so I finally found 33 C** Road. Sure enough, no letterbox, bus stop out the front, and the door to the house was open, all as he'd explained. I went up, was invited in, and the first thing he says is "I was expecting a guy actually!". Nothing too strange about that, my name isn't exactly a common one. <br />
He directed me to follow him through to the kitchen, where he opened up a bar fridge and asked me which I was after... pointing out an array of small bottles with rather suspicious looking labels. Think cheap garish party pill type stuff.<br />
At that point I wondered briefly whether he'd dialed an escort... the "I was expecting a guy" comment did match the copious amounts of gay porn on the walls of his house. Thinking rather swiftly, I came to the conclusion that I may in fact be at the wrong address. But here he was, expecting a guy called Stuart to turn up for the bottles, and I came to the door asking for the bottles... no wonder there was confusion. And the letterbox thing. And the bus stop thing. And the open front door! Very very weird coincidence.<br />
I beat a hasty retreat, turned my car around and went and found the right street.<br />
(I won't even tell you about how the guy at the RIGHT house actually knew about the goings on at the other house. It's just too fuckin' weird)<br />
<br />
<br />
xe<br />
<br />eroicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05489295096336063886noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6195303.post-73016696516473179852011-08-28T19:56:00.001+10:002011-08-28T19:56:43.017+10:00Doll Chiaroscuro.<div style="margin: 0 0 10px 0; padding: 0; font-size: 0.8em; line-height: 1.6em;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/frogstarstrikesagain/6088523084/" title="Doll Chiaroscuro."><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6196/6088523084_8017637947.jpg" alt="Doll Chiaroscuro. by eroica.lurks" /></a><br/><span style="margin: 0;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/frogstarstrikesagain/6088523084/">Doll Chiaroscuro.</a>, a photo by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/frogstarstrikesagain/">eroica.lurks</a> on Flickr.</span></div><p></p>eroicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02948285582158355117noreply@blogger.com4