Zombie Dolls and the Kiwi Road Trip

Here it is, the last day of the school holidays, and I can safely say that THIS time I haven't allowed myself to get caught up in a fad. In the past I have:

...developed a two week passion for Reborn Dolls which led me to procure (a much nicer word than "steal") all my daughters dolls, decapitate them, gauge out their eyes, paint them purple and hide them in the top of the linen cupboard. It's like a toy graveyard in there and one can only pray that vengeful zombie dolls are all a figment of the imagination. Mind you, with all the Facebook applications I've played with, I should be ready for any zombie attack heading my way - even if I am solely responsible for it.

Then there was the Green Phase. I was on a mission to save the planet and not buy any cleaning or personal hygiene products I didn't have to, while saving thousands of dollars and paying off my mortgage within five years. That's what the inspiring magazine article said anyway. So it was baking soda for toothpaste and gelatine in my hair. The toilet needed extra scrubbing, the kids missed their McCleans and I smelled like jelly. The zombie dolls couldn't care less, since I'd pulled out most of their hair with a crochet hook.

Just call me "Earth Mother"

Then there was the new-found passion for ironing...I think I've already mentioned the ironing. I'll just slip that into the "What Was I Thinking?" file.

So these holidays I've done STUFF instead. I did a painting. Ummm...it's abstract but it's "art" because I say it is. I made myself a tunic dress. I had nothing to wear with it so I had to go out yesterday and buy myself some accessories to go with it. Having done that, it might have been cheaper to just go out and buy a dress.

One of the coolest things I've done these holidays is the great kiwi Road Trip - with NO husbands and NO KIDS!! Smiley and I headed off in the car to Wild Whangarei, a whole two hours drive away, to meet up with our long lost work buddy, Ant. We drove all the way there with the headlights on because that's what kiwis do on a Road Trip (at least, that's what I told Smiley). I packed healthy sandwiches to eat on the way, Smiley packed lollies and chocolate. We stopped off at a cafe in Wellsford and I parked more than 1 metre from the kerb because we were rebels on a road trip and that's just how we roll - it had absolutely nothing to do with it being a parallel park *cough*. We met up with Ant at a slightly seedy little motel in Whangarei where she had blinked her pretty eyelashes at the manager and promptly had us upgraded to a flasher room with a bed each, two hours free internet and extra milk. We even managed to get the use of the spa pool room after the manager's bed time (although he wasn't invited).

Cameras and steamy spa pools don't mix well. Luckily I didn't drop it in the water.

We ate at a pub and checked out the latest version of "Footloose" at the movies. We were so rebellious, we stayed up till 10:30pm and slept in till 8am! The first thing Smiley said to me on waking was "You talk in your sleep", to which I replied "You snore!" After checking out of the motel (did I detect a tear in the manager's eye?) we headed off to explore the sights of Whangarei. We were finished by lunch time.

Incidentally, if you're ever up North be sure to check out the coolest cafe I've ever been to: Eutopia, where the tea is served in bone china and the birds will eat out of your hand.

See how I cleverly disguise Smiley's true identity. The bird however, signed a release form.

This running-away-from-home-with-the-girlfriends thing has a lot going for it. We've vowed to do it all over again during the Summer holidays. I've also decided to talk my friend R into running away with me for a weekend sometime when the pressures of her job get to be more than she'd like to cope with. I reckon her pretty eyes could get us a free upgrade from a backpackers hostel to a Penthouse suite at Sky City. I just hope the zombie dolls don't follow us.

Boobs and Moobs and Bratwurst Sausage

Being one of those OCD type people who let's her brain run away at inconvenient times, I've been keeping myself awake at nights this week. Last night was one of "those" nights and I ended up sitting in front of the telly at 3:30am. That's where I saw it - the "Ahh Bra".  I was glued to the screen. It wasn't so much that I desperately wanted an Ahh Bra that I could just step into while wearing jeans, it was Rhonda Shearer's enthusiasm. Never had a bra provided such a thrill - and I've seen Trinny and Susannah get pretty excited over boobs and bras.

Despite looking like a product out of "People's Friend" (you know, the kind of thing that fits in with orthopedic shoes, stair lifts and crocheted toilet roll covers), the Ahh Bra will transform any woman's life with plenty of support and cleavage and NO UNDERWIRES. I'm not sure if I'm convinced personally. Being more of a Trinny than a Susannah, I want my bra to have plenty of padding and lift and I didn't see any of that going on with the fabulous Ahh Bra. Mind you, I don't think the niche market should be aimed at just women. We live in a world of equal opportunity and I don't think it would do any harm for a few moobs to be offered some support.

Anyway, I managed to restrain myself from whipping out my Visa card and dialing the 0800 number and flicked the channel to an old episode of "Allo Allo". Strangely enough, Renee and the Germans were running about chasing the famous painting of "The Fallen Madonna with the Big Boobies" that was hidden in a bratwurst sausage. I drifted off to sleep wondering her reputation might have been reprieved had she worn an Ahh Bra.