A couple weeks ago a friend I went to uni with mentioned he and his wife were going to Europe for a couple weeks in August. A couple days later and the word was out, and it appeared that half my social circle would be, at some point, in Europe between June to October next year.

AND I WANT TO GO:

I want to float in a little boat around Venice. I want to stand under the Eiffel Tower. I want to rock out hard in London, and use the few swear words I know in Italian in Italy, and the same again in Spainish in Spain. I want to see all the things my old flatmate told me about in Prague, and I want to drink coffee in Amsterdam.

I want to see how people live in these other places we hear about ALL THE TIME. I want to see the people I know and love who have moved to these places. And I want to be part of their adventures.

I’m not exactly a rich person. I have a crippling student loan that I have been putting money diligently aside for. Money that would, just about, cover the costs of a Europe trip. I’m torn between being responsible, and putting that ridiculous amount of money towards my student loan. Or, I could go to Europe, and have all those exciting adventures before I’m too old and settled to have them.

I’m sure I’ll change my mind back and forth between being responsible with my debt, or about having one of those life mind opening look-at-this-be-different experiences.

We’ll see. I have a good few months to decide before I commit to anything. I’ll let you know how it goes.

But fingers crossed, next year sometime I’ll be in Europe!

Over the weekend The Square + the amazing Foo went rockclimbing in a big warehouse out in one of the suburbs. It was alright, I guess. I enjoyed the scrambling up a wall, I did. I watched The Fourth Quarter zip up walls like a spider, and listened to The Second Quarter talk about his knee, and the physics of such things. The Third Quarter + Foo did lots of cheering, and there was a good time had by all, I think.

Well, mostly good. I dislike falling. I dislike swift downward motions, and I dislike them with a passion. I do not mind heights, it’s the falling part I don’t like. So, I climbed down every wall I climbed up. The instructor showed Foo how to belay my odd request, and part of the agreement of my climbing down was that only Foo would belay me. She was amazing, and agreed.

I enjoyed the climbing up. Reaching for the next handhold and pushing myself up with my legs. Going up was no problem. The climbing down was harder, holding myself to the wall with my arms as I slowly lowered myself to the ground. I was careful, too. If going up I could see I would have difficulties climbing down I’d stop. And that was fine. I didn’t make it to the top of some of the climbs but I was happy with that.

After a few hours of climbing I think I got a bit over-confident. And I climbed up a wall that I couldn’t climb down. The hand holds were awkwardly placed, and they weren’t overly generous. My hand slipped from one, and I got a fright. I knew at that point I wanted to get down, but after a moment of scrabbling around it became very clear that there was no easy way down. I was stuck, and I couldn’t see how to get myself down.

I hate panic attacks. Your heart beats so fast and hard it feels like it could beat itself out of your chest. You can’t breath, you can’t think (everything is happening so fast), you tense your muscles and everything just condenses down to pure panic.

Not exactly what you want to experience as your clinging to a climbing wall several metres above the ground.

What yanked me out of it was that the instructor guy came over and told me not to hang on the drawers (caribeenas attached to the wall). He asked if I was okay and I let out a small ‘no’. I was pretty impressed with myself that what didn’t come out of my mouth instead was the quick continuous string of four letter words that was running through my head on repeat, and I think it was that more than anything the allowed me to find the next hand hold down. And then the next one. And then the next one. And the next one, till I was safe on the ground.

Getting to the ground was almost as bad. Once I was down I wanted out of the belay system immediately. I wanted to cry and I was still panicking a little. Instead I bit my tongue, held on tight to the front of my harness and walked away from the wall. This was obviously written all over my face because the instructor told me that I had good composure. I walked away after that. I watched the other quarters clamber up walls and held onto tight to my harness safe on the ground.

These panic attacks aren’t a rational thing. I know that I was safe, attached to the harness system with the amazing Foo on the other end. I know that even if I had fallen, I wasn’t in any danger, that everything would have been fine. And that’s cool, but that’s all post the falling part. I don’t know why I don’t like falling. I don’t know why I don’t like it. Other than I don’t, and when something happens, a panic attack is likely. It’s not a rational thing, and I was pretty annoyed at myself afterwards (also probably not a rational thing).

Still, it was awesome to hang out with The Square + Foo, and even the climbing was awesome. It was only really the last climb that I had any issues with. Today my muscles hurt, the muscles in my arms and legs and even some of the small muscles in my hands. I think I’d go again. It was pretty cool, though I’m pretty sure I’d avoid the harder climbs. Panic attacks? They are not awesome. Rock-climbing though? Totally is. :)

Disclaimer: I’m posting about sex. So if you work with me, are my mother, or are any one of my ex boyfriends you should just skip this post. Okay? Awesome. Cute fuzzy feel-good posts with pretty pictures are back on Wednesday. Come back then.

It about comfort, I think. And as he wakes me all I can think of is how his shoulders aren’t quite like The Boys. The way his muscles sit and the way he lies next to me aren’t quite right.

He’s nice, in his own way. Hot enough to get me going, an all round dream for a girl not me. But he doesn’t smell like The Boy, or taste like him. And the quiet laugh he makes as he moves his tongue along my shoulder is not one The Boy would make. The way he nips my earlobes with his teeth, sliding his arm around the small of my back, yanking me to him . . . that’s not how The Boy would do it.

I remind myself it’s comfort, the rough sex we have, the way he bites my neck and grabs my hips. Cold comfort.

I don’t say his name, because it’s not his name I’m thinking of. I close my eyes for a moment. I hold The Boys image in my head and in a weak moment I pretend. It doesn’t last long, he pulls me back to reality with the things he’s doing with his fingers, and my eyes open with gasp, and I get that tingle that makes me arch my back.

It’s a different tingle than I’d wanted. A physical something that doesn’t start from butterflies in my stomach. The butterflies don’t fly anymore.

Still, you take what you can get, and I’m jolted back to here and now. I grab him, claw my fingers into his shoulders and wish him to move faster, and harder, for things to be more brutal, and urgent and NOWgodamit.

I live in the moment, because now it’s all about feeling what you can, grabbing on to it and not letting go, because right this second you feel a fleeting something. An anything.

It’s not love. It’s not tender, or sweet.

It’s rough, and meaningless. It’s comfort, but its empty. Still, I hold onto it, because it’s better than feeling alone, feeling nothing. It’s better than feeling the overwhelming emotional wave that exists in every other moment. Because it’s something that makes sense. It’s something I understand. It’s physical, and meaningless.

We cuddle, after. And before I drift back off to sleep, I know that I at least am thinking of other people, of other places and other times. We find comfort in each other, I think. But it’s empty, and it’s not really what I want. In the dark I hope that the next day might be just a little bit better, a little bit easier to live through. That perhaps tomorrow I’ll find my feet, and find some way to move forward.

This is what happens when you crash at the Kenwyn Flat. This is what happens when you discover that you’ve somehow magically left a bottle of cheap champagne in someone else’s fridge, and you decide to drink it. All of it. And this is what happens when someone decides to take their Day 11 Movember Photo.

There was cam-whoring and robes and tweets. There was posing and examinations of noses and places where mo’s would be at a pixel level on a High Def 47″ tv hooked up to a laptop. There was giggles and mockage and was The Second Quarter ACTUALLY hanging out?

This is what happens when you need somewhere to go, when you don’t want to be by yourself and you can’t bear the thought of going back to place that holds memories of time when you were part of a two.

This is what happens when you need friends, when you need someone to care, and they do (even if it’s shown by an unnecessary interrogation of your eating habits). They drink with you and laugh with you, and help the time pass.

This is what happens now. This is how you spend your weeknights. This is now your life.

So, I posted last month about Octobers Challenge and I have to say I have so much <3 for Lucas right now for saving me from being the only one participating in this challenge last month!

And for serious, aren’t his photos awesome?

That’s Lucas being awesome, and rocking the challenges. He got up close and personal with something furry (SAVING that cute kitten (Baby Tuna) that was too weak to stand when he found it), being all educational and awesome (by signing the peace one day flag in Miri Malaysia! For serious, this is how he rolls), and the last being super helpful as an easel. An EASEL.

And right now Lucas is going ‘WTF, why I on Elly’s blog?!’ It’s because your awesome, Lucas. :P

And you make me kinda hopeful. Perhaps this month someone else will join us. Maybe there will be three or four of us. Are you keen to join?

The idea is simple. You have till the end of the month to upload three photos (just three) to the Steve’s Orienteering Challenge flickr group. That’s it. Easy, and a fun way to encourage people to get out and do something a bit random.

The Challenges this month:

1. Fake Facials
For those of you that don’t know, this month is Movember – the month where boys grow moustaches and the girls get pash rash for the sake of raising awareness and funds for Prostate Cancer.

So, take a photo of yourself with a fake mo! (This could be as simple as drawing a mo on your finger, or printing out a beard. Or you could go to the extreme and glue hair to your face. I’m just sayin’.)

2. Jump For Joy
Be airborne. Or rather, not on the ground, not on a chair, and not swinging from anything. Just jump for joy. In the air! :)

3. Feathered Flock
Find some feathered friends, and just go hang. You might want to bribe them with bread, but that’s totally up to you! Bonus points for the most birds in one photo!

Easy as, right? Everyone knows where to find ducks. Or chickens. Or other lovely feathered somethings :)

Anyway, that’s it for this month! Hope your November is wonderful, and that perhaps you’ll decide to join this month’s Orienteering Challenge! :)

Every person loves feeling like they are a little bit special. A little bit with the in-crowd, a little bit special. And as much as I say I go to these things because my best friend is in town and time with her is pretty rare (both true, so don’t discount it), we both know its a tiny bit because we like to squee that we met so and so, or whatever.

For the last four years, Liz has taken me to Armageddon. And every year, thanks to her connections with The Hub Productions we get in free, with fancy ‘Exhibitor’ badges. We usually attend the formal cocktail evening with the stars (something fans pay a ridiculous amount of money for), and sometimes we’ll have dinner with the stars + crew that The Hub bring to NZ.

(The line we didn’t wait in)

We’ll rock the expo, getting autographs and photos and whatever. We’ll visit talks, and check out stalls and hang out with The Hub’s whoever. Liz knows enough of the people who work the con to be down with the crew, and we’ll chat and hangout and generally have an awesome time.

Now, usually, I don’t know who the stars are. I might vaguely recognise them, but they aren’t usually from my shows. Or are people that I’d squee about meeting in advance. Not to say that I haven’t met some awesome people. I’ve met John Rhys-Davies (who wanted Liz and I to join a space-program thing to populate Mars). I met Tom Lenk (one of the nerds from Buffy) and Ernie Hudson (From Ghostbusters). I’ve met Kevin Weisman (aka Marshell from Alias) and Michael Winslow (who was the sound effect cop from Police Academy). All incredibly cool people, who have been so, so lovely. Tom Lenk was super into snowboarding, and Kevin Weisman introduced us to his baby daughter, and Michael Winslow took to saying my name in high pitched squeaky tone, and pretending it wasn’t him when I turned around. He was pretty awesome :)

Then there are some people I’ve met, and I actually don’t know who they are:

This is Bronson Pelletier, whose going to play a wolf in New Moon. And the other guy? I actually had to ask Liz for his name. He’s Jason Momoa. And I had to look up on imdb to find out he plays a human alien on Stargate Atlantis.

But this year? Oh, how excited I was this year. This year I met Seth Green.

SETH. GREEN.

If you don’t know who he is: educate yourself. Think Dr Evil’s son (Austin Powers) or voice of Chris on Family Guy. He was in the movie Without A Paddle (as the doctor guy who hooked up with the chick who did random things with her feet), and was Lyle in the Italian Job. And he’s the Creator of Robot Chicken! In short: all kinds of awesome is who he is. :P

I was beyond excited. I sat next to him at the cocktail party, and we chatted and oh! He’s so little and has stumpy little fingers, and smells soooo good. I was a total fan, excited to be in his presence, and that was enough for me.

For him, I get that he was turning it on for us. That for that night it was his job to meet us and make us feel all excited and whatever. That even though he was shattered (having had a conversation with his agent about all the promotional stuff he’d had to do earlier) he turned on his ‘fan’ face and made all of us fall in love with him.

Realising this (and seeing him turn himself on and off) only detracted slightly from the deal. Like I said, I’m a fan. And while usually I get to see the stars in a not-fan capacity, I couldn’t do it in this case. Because seriously? This was SETH GREEN.

How do you not love him?

Anyway, Armageddon this year was possibly the last year I’ll go. Liz is maybe bound for far away shores, and if that’s the case then it’ll be the last Armageddon she’ll do, and by proxy, me too. So we took in our last possible day at Armageddon in style.

We tried on hats, and watched talks, met people (like the Drake, the author of the comic Ninjet, check him out, for serious: ninjet.com. I thought he was pretty awesome) and wandered around the chaos that was Armageddon.

It was a good expo, this year. Yay, Geekdom! :)

I was going to post yesterday, but I didn’t. Things are still up and down with me, I’m not sure what I’m doing, or what I want and I’m pretty sure I should know these things. I’m struggling with the idea that it’s okay to not know what I’m doing, or what I want. And I’m still rocking the distractions like it’s no ones business.

Like, the 365 project I started last month. I made it all the way through October. It’s been pretty easy, but I was surprised at how some days I just could. not. be. fucked. I pushed through, and I’m still taking a daily photo, but I was surprised at how some days I was happy with a two second ‘just take the damn photo of something, ANYTHING’ shot, and other days I’d take 200 shots of my tongue, looking for the PERFECT photo to post. Yeah, things are bit odd for me right now.

Anyway, because I’m stoked I’ve got this far. This is my October:

October 6th to the 31st. 26 days down. 339 to go. :)

What seems ages ago now (though it wasn’t really) The Fourth Quarter and I took Quinn down to the waterfront and rode our bikes along the boardwalk.

We hooked up a basket to the front of one of the bikes for Quinn. There was MUCH too much foot traffic + cars around for him to run alongside free, and even more dangerous had we tried to put a leash on him. Quinn is a bit unpredictable at the best of times. He seemed to enjoy the novel view and , as long as he could see me, wasn’t too fussed.

Is it silly that I love that my dog is small enough to fit in a bike basket?

It was a pretty nice ride, too. We parked up at one end of Tamaki Drive, and rode till near the end of the flat and then back again.

The sky was blue, the wind calm. It was pretty gorgeous. I love that we have places like this in Auckland to do these kind of things :)

I don’t know what’s right and what’s real anymore
I don’t know how I’m meant to feel anymore
When do you think it will all become clear?
Cause I’m being taken over by The Fear
- Lily Allen, The Fear

There is something really amazing about the friends I have. I know, everyone says that really, but my friends? I have so much love for them, it’s ridiculous.

Last Thursday was one of those really misery inducing days where I couldn’t do anything right, and a nothing situation turned into a giant horrible THING. I felt like I’d taken a murky situation, taken a big stick and stirred it up BAD while I was trying to making it better. It was heartbreaking, really.

And so I did what I always do after these situations occur. I surround myself with people I know will bring a smile to my face, will pour me a glass of wine or two and distract me from the mess I’ve made for a couple of hours.

And honestly? My friends rose the occasion once again (there have been so many occasions, if I’m being honest).

There is something amazing about sitting in a cosy bar laughing with friends of friends, debating phones (the IPhone vs HTC’s G2 Magic), gaming consoles (the Xbox vs the PS3) and wines, dinner selections, ISP’s, holiday locations . . .

Feeling the warm cosy glow of the wine in my system, recognizing that as I walk up to the bar I was getting checked out. Can I buy you a drink? Can we make small talk, and oh look, you’re blushing.

It was brilliant to feel all warm and fuzzy, and then catch a friends eye as he played for the bar, grinning at me, knowing he was playing the song he was for me, so I could sing along.

It was awesome to receive txts about my well being, make sure you get home safe, chin up, chika. That people were reaching out to make sure that I was okay. To know that they cared. To know that it wouldn’t always be like this.

It was amazing to know that when I had to be somewhere else, and people were genuinely sad to see me go. Amazing to have my friend, mid song, mouth ‘I love you’ as I slipped out the door.

It was the best thing ever to get home, and have The Square all pile into bed with me, all four of us joking and talking and spending a rare moment of just us four.

My friends are amazing. There are no if’s or buts about it. My friends? Completely. Amazing.

Last weekend was a long weekend. That is to say that we got a glorious extra Monday off. That Monday I happened to be a Snells Beach, where friends have a cute little bach that sits right on the water.

Sunday night was filled with red wine and catching up and eating and ALOT of memories. Mostly from 3 years ago, but I don’t want to go there. On Monday things had perked up, and everything seemed a lot less dire (I suspect this is due to the lack of red wine in my system).

Anyway, Rob + John, the wonderful people that they are, took The Second Quarter, Liz and I out on the boat for some ‘it’s almost summer’ fun.

I say almost summer, because it didn’t feel like summer. It was cold, and overcast, and we were all in wetsuits and I still got blue lips in the end. But the point is, it may have been cold, but we went WAKEBOARDING, and SEA BISCUITING! (And The Second Quarter, the ski ponce that he is, also went waterskiing). We also rescued some kina before they got eaten. We’re good lovely people and all that.

It was brilliant. Really, it was. Wakeboarding is a ridiculous amount of fun, and getting up on the first try was SO BRILLIANT! And by the end of my turn I was grinning from ear to ear, and would cheer empathetically during everyone else’s go. It was a ridiculous amount of fun.

There was much cheering for falling over (or off, in the case of the sea biscuit). There was much cheering all round, really.

It was such a brilliant, brilliant way to spend an hour or two, and I was just so PUMPED after! Sure, there were sore muscles the next day (clinging to a sea-biscuit will kill your shoulders, seriously) but it seemed such a small price to pay for getting to partake in such an AWESOME sport. Seriously, check out the grins after:

I have to say, that wakeboarding? It totally made my weekend awesome. :)