I got two new blog subscribers this past week and after getting the e-mail notification about them I immediately called my mom and gave her the names and said, “Do you know these people?” and she said, “No, why?” and I said, “Because I was curious as to whether or not they’re random people who stumbled upon my blog and actually maybe enjoy it or if they’re people who were coerced by my mother to subscribe.”
She doesn’t know them.
So hello, new people. Welcome to my blog.
My readership is now up to almost twenty which is exciting as I feel the millions of dollars which comes with becoming a famous and well-loved blogger is just around the corner.
I am operating under the assumption that these people are still actually subscribers and not just baiting me to like them back like on Instagram when I started being followed by almost all the ladies of The Real Housewives of Auckland and I walked around with my chest puffed out thinking, “Wow, they really liked that picture of my fake chicken alfredo.” But then, when I didn’t follow them back, suddenly my followers dropped back down by quite a bit. I was kind of devastated.
*Addendum* Before posting this blog I logged in to MailChimp and checked my subscriber list. Almost all of my subscribers have their first and last names on the list. Except for my two new readers whose first and last names are both apparently “5903fh644492ac” or something along those lines. So, sadly enough, fame and fortune is further away then I thought.
Tom has been gone for almost two weeks now and things haven’t been too bad. I actually did more social things this week than I usually do in a month here. And each thing was pretty darn enjoyable. Apart from the fact that A Bad Moms Christmas is a pretty darn crappy movie. I have a crass sense of humor and I can enjoy some good old-fashioned raunchiness. But geez, put a little bit of intelligence behind all those penis and sex jokes would ya? Thank you.
Yesterday morning a friend and I went to an all day yoga festival. It started at 11am and the schedule included several free yoga sessions, a meditation session, music, and talks on yoga and other topics. I didn’t care about the talks. I don’t want to listen to the reasons why yoga is beneficial to me, I just want to do the yoga and reap the benefits. The first yoga session started at 11:30 and we arrived there maybe about fifteen minutes early. There were four people on stage playing drums and sitars and chanting “Hare Krishna, Hare hare, krishna, krishna” over and over.
I’m a shitty person and not a good hippy because I didn’t like it. I mean, for only having four words and I think maybe two chords in that song, they sure managed to play it for a very long time.
And I just felt uncomfortable.
Back in Austin I used to be a member of the Shambhala Centre, a Buddhist center located in a pretty little neighborhood just south of downtown. Actually, my dad was the real member and for a few extra dollars a month he was able to add me to where I was kind of a member. This meant that I had a key and could get into the center at any time I wanted.
Anyway…one time I went to go to a group meditation but I didn’t read the event description correctly so I didn’t realize it was a chanting meditation. Everyone was given books and, accompanied by a gong, you were to read the chants from that book. And they were chants like “oh mighty Vishnu who holds the sword of the righteous in his left hand and the fire of the pure in his right, who leads us to see the path of the virtuous, who walks with us through this world to lead us to Nirvana and everlasting awareness of the goodness of our souls….”
I totally made that up because I can’t remember the exact chant but it was something very similar.
All of that was supposed to be chanted in one breath and if I stopped to breathe, everyone else just kept chanting at this ridiculously fast monotone pace and they’d be three stanzas down before I even had enough breath to talk again and while I was desperately trying to find exactly where they were the leader of the chant would smack that gong and everybody would bow their heads to the floor and then they’d flip to a different page of the book and start a new chant. And I was just sitting there thinking, in a very Buddah-like manner, “What the fuck is going on!?”
But I couldn’t leave because it felt rude. So I was stuck there for an hour feeling awkward and out of place and realizing that I was not the hippy I thought I was.
Cause I think hippies are supposed to like chanting. And I’m just not a fan.
Another time, at the Shambhala Center again, I went to a “Conversations About Buddhism” talk. I was a bit nervous about it because I had recently had the chanting experience and was feeling kind of gun shy. I told myself, Just leave your stuff outside the door. If things start to get weird, lie about going to the bathroom and high tail it out of there. You are not a hostage. You are not a hostage. Everyone sat in a circle and kind of stared at each other for a minute until the host of the event said, “Who wants to start” and this woman with short spiky hair, who looked to be in her late 40s or early 50s said, “I’ll start” and I was bracing myself for some sort of uber-hippy love rhetoric but instead she said, “So I love the philosophies of Buddhism. And I try to practice peace and love and understanding in my life every day. But you know what? It’s hard. Because, fuck, I really hate people.”
And my immediate thought was….I’m home.
So….after my friend and I finished the first session of yoga yesterday, the host went up on stage and said, “After a song we’ll begin our talk on the spirituality of yoga.” And I turned to my friend and said, “Want to go that restaurant up the hill for lunch and a beer?” and she said, “I sure do.”
And the rest of the afternoon was lovely.
While waiting to reset my MailChimp password (because I can never remember what it is and have to reset it every GD time, and NO, I CANNOT WRITE DOWN THE PASSWORD because that’s too easy) I checked my spam folder to see if the password change e-mail had gone there and I found this……
The reason I actually clicked on it was because I found the ambiguity and lack of confidence in the subject line terribly amusing….”We Think You’ve Won An iPhone”.
I know the writing is kind of fuzzy….It says, “Dear Leah, You have been picked by our team in California. Because we have strong relations with New Zealand, we weekly select a handful of poeple to get an iPhone. This week it is you with this address……”
To me this is a verification that the whole California seceding from the US is not a rumor. They are obviously working hard at forming international relations prior to seceding and they are doing this through the sending of iPhones around the world. Calexit is really happening, y’all.
Unfortunately, I prefer Samsung, so I have to refuse your olive branch. But if you feel like strengthening our relationship through sending me a few round trip tickets to San Francisco, I will gladly accept.
I tried to e-mail “MyHeartWillNever.org” to tell them all the things they could send me which would make me love California more but surprisingly that website doesn’t actually exist.
I will now be badmouthing California to every Kiwi I meet.
One last thing….
I went to go meet some friends for dinner last night in Ponsonby and I was circling about looking for parking when I saw a young woman in a VERY tiny pink dress with one leg up on a park bench while a man did something to her giant high heel. Her panties were visible and her boobs were hanging out all over the place and I was desperately trying to find my phone so I could snap a photo and send it to Tom but I just couldn’t find it fast enough so all I got was this photo…..
I know the photo is kind of blurry and hard to make out so I’ll just help you out by confirming that yes, yes that is indeed a nipple and her whole boob was just out there in the open and she was walking along LIKE NOTHING WAS HAPPENING. I had to snap a photo because I feel like Tom needs some “street stranger boob” in his life.
And I guess I felt like y’all did too.