It was 10am on Sunday morning and I was clearly affected by alcohol. I was in a pub called the Walkabout. A horrible, cheap + nasty Australian franchise, one of the few pubs that was open early on this Sunday morning. I was there, with about another two hundred All Black fans decked out in black to watch the All Blacks play France in the 2011 Rugby World Cup Final. And as I said at the beginning of the competition, I don’t know a lot about rugby. I still don’t really know the rules, I don’t understand the nuances or intricacies of the game. Anything other than the obvious is likely to be well over my head.

Despite this, I enjoyed the competition. I watched all the All Blacks games, and managed some of the others too. I made Morf drive me out to a pub in South Hampton so I could watch the NZ vs France Pool match. I watched as much of the NZ vs Japanese game as I could before rushing off the city to catch a flight. I was smug when I got to Stansted Airport and got a glance of the final score. Often I said I’d make it down to the pub, but really the best I could do in my hungover state was move from the bed to the couch. I watched the quarter finals against Argentina with a lounge full of people after the drunken madness that was my birthday.There were a few games I may have napped a bit through, but I’d open my eyes when the crowd cheered, and would cheer along.

But that Sunday? The Sunday of the Grand Final? I got up (possibly with some prodding by a Jimmy) and managed to make it down to the pub at half eight. A miracle considering the drunken adventures the night before had held. Still, I had Strawberry Cider in hand, and wasn’t too fussed.

We watched it on a big screen, getting told off by the kitchen lady. We cheered when the boys did the haka (right on you Weepu for leading!) and my Scottish friend ohlala’d over Ali Williams. We cheered when Tony Woodcock scored the first try. We commiserated when Weepu missed a penalty. And then the conversion. And then was taken off, replaced by Stephen Donald, number 4 on the list. We cheered when he scored, and gasped when France scored a try + conversion. One point, that’s what was in it. It was a very very tense game, watched behind fingers, biting lips, very nearly not being able to look but not being able to look away.

Except that then the full time whistle blew. And The All Blacks were still a point ahead. And for the first time since 1987, New Zealand had won the World Cup, and were the Rugby Champions.

I was estatic, there was loads of hugging, and cheering, and high fives. There was loads of singing, and general ridiculousness. We had more drinks, we laughed, there was relief.

I’m not sure how much longer we were at the pub for, but it was great long while. Walking back to the flat we stopped and high fived every oncoming pedestrian. We pushed each other around in abandoned shopping trolleys. We were happy, the day was fine, and I was intoxicated well before lunch on a Sunday.

I’m a million miles away from home, but it might as well have been across the road at that point. I felt patriotic, and happy. I can’t even imagine the madness as it was happening right then in Auckland. It must have been crazy.

So yes, I was there. I watched the New Zealand team win. A tiny little bit of history that I was super super glad to partake in.

Good job, boys. Well done!

This is Aba. Aba lives in Ghana (in a town called Abura), and she runs a tiny little roadside (!) grocery and has been doing so for the last five years. She’s married to a carpenter and has three children.

A few months ago Aba went to a Kiva partner and asked for help. She has asked for a small loan to help grow her business a little. Because if she gets a loan, she’d be able to afford more produce, and more produce means more business, which means a better income for her young family.

And today, instead of digging a few gold coins out of my purse and depositing it in a bucket for a faceless cause as I rush through the tube station, I used my credit card to loan Aba, a grocer in Ghana $25 so she could expand her business. I was one of 10 people who were able to provide Aba a mico-loan that she wasn’t able to get from the bank, so she could expand her business, earn more, and provide for her family.

I like that I can do that. And that I can do it in a sustainable manner – it’s not a hand out, but a hand up. Over the next give months Aba will repay the loan, and she’ll work hard to do it. But because it’s from individuals like me there isn’t a backlash of high interest rates. Micro-loans. It’s a good idea, right?

There are a phenomenal number of people whose lives could be made a little more self-sufficient, a little brighter by not a donation, but a LOAN. The money you lend is returned to you, and you can either donate to the Kiva organisation, help someone else, or withdraw it.

If you’re interested in helping out someone yourself, please check out Kiva. It’s a simple, painless process, and the cause is a good one.

A few friends of mine started a facebook group called Random Gig Nights. It was the same idea as Random Pub Nights (where once a month someone picks a random (but decent) pub and you all show up and its brilliant) except for Gigs. The idea was that instead of seeing big name bands over + over we could check out smaller up + coming gigs. It’s a brilliant way to hear about whats going on in London, and as its run by the Kiwi Cross crew its not hard to find people to go with when something catches your eye.

So when the group said Chase + Status were playing at The Nest in Dalston for a fiver, I was totes gutted that I had plans. It was just a DJ Set, but that didn’t make me feel any better about missing it. It didn’t look like anyone else was goin to go, either. But then my plans fell through, so at 9pm on a Thursday night I put out the word and sure enough managed to pull people from their beds + from dinner plans to come drink + dance with me.

And it was fucking awesome.

I remember doin Jager racks (shots of 6), I remember pushing my way to the front, dancing second row back from the stage, dancing in the pit, elbows high. I remember being a hot + sweaty mess, literally soaked head to toe in sweat and still positively stoked to be there. I remember dancing hard, and being up close + personal with 10 strangers on all sides, pushed close unable to move. I remember rocking out to the amazing drops, where you feel the bass in your chest bellowing up through the floor rather than hearing it with your ears. I remember tryin to keep next to Margot and stop people from pushing us apart on their attempt to get closer to the stage. I remember high fiving the very gorgeous Liam Bailey, and Cotti (also pretty fine himself). I remember jumping up and down, the crowd as one. I remember everyone going fucking nuts when Chase + Status played Blind Faith.

For serious. This is a video that Margot took, that shows you a) exactly how close we were and b) how very pretty Liam Bailey is:

I remember getting hit in the head, and retreating to the back of the crowd. I remember dancing with Phe on a ridge (Was it a ridge? I don’t know what it was, but it was off the ground), and being stoked that I could see all the way down the stage to the decks. I remember standing on the street absolutely exhaused, completely soaked in sweat but positively high on seeing Chase + Status.

Today (as I write this, not the day which I’ll post this) I am covered in bruises, I’m in a shirt that isn’t mine because I didn’t go home last night, and my legs ache from hours + hours of jumping + dancing. I am shattered. And I’m still rocking that high from last night.

I love nights like that. Where you ignore all tomorrow’s early morning commitements and say fuck it. Where you turn around what could easily have been a shit night. Where you go out with a brilliant crew, where you dance like a mad person, and where you have a fucking awesome time.

Chase + Staus. Fuck Yes.

A while ago I came across a cute little display of Vintage-style Soda by Boylan Bottling. Super cute glass bottles came in packs of four with a way cute old school carrier carton. I won’t lie, I brought four and guzzled them almost as soon as I could. They were brilliant, I was blown away.

A super cute little product, I think. I love things that have great style AND are super tasty. Win!

Anyone that knows me, knows that I really do adore cupcakes. No, seriously. It started in Melbourne, where my best friend had inconveniently moved far far away. When I visited the first time (and every time thereafter) she took me to Little Cupcakes. This tiny little cupcake store down one of the many lanes in Melbourne’s CBD.

Best cupcakes ever. Amazing moist cake, with a healthy dollop of melt-in-your-mouth ganache on top. The kind where you can’t stop eating them. Where you end up buying six mini ones because the flavours? There are too many amazing ones to just stick to one. Or two. Two is never enough.

I have to say that after that point I tried any cupcake that I came across. Now, sadly, there are only two cupcake stores reminiscent of Little Cupcakes in Auckland, and neither of them do the amazing ganache. Nor are their cupcakes mini.

However, Petal Cupcakes have a super slick newly renovated store in Newmarket (just off Teed St). I love that all their cakes are decorated like flowers (thus tying cleverly in with the ‘petal’ theme). Still, while the chocolate cupcake I had was amazing (super rich, super super rich) their icing was not ganache. It was slightly crunchy, it was the kind of icing sugar that sets. Which isn’t a bad thing. It’s just, I want Little Cupcakes ganache, dammit!

And then a few weeks ago, I tried Delish Cupcakes. And oh! I loved their little display:

Just enough so you could pick out the flavours you wanted. I followed them on twitter, and was super stoked to get one of their twitter/fb specials (this is why social networking is a win. It means free cupcakes!). So brought a whole bunch. And I have to say, the lady who runs the place was amazing. Super nice, happy to talk and chat with me a bit. I love businesses like that one, small and local and straight up amazing.

Also? Their cupcakes divine. Not quite ganache, but I didn’t care. The icing was just as good, if not better. Smooth and creamy and an excellent excellent match with the red velvet cupcake I’d tried. And the caramel cupcake? I could have eaten a fair few of those, too. I brought a few other flavours, but sadly I left them in the car while I went to pick up a few things from the supermarket. I shouldn’t have, because when I got back Quinn was covered in buttercream icing, having figured out how to open the box. Needless to say I had a hyperactive dog thereafter.

I’m stoked that they are so close to work, because they are definitely brilliant enough to give Little Cupcakes a run for their money. I’m glad to have found them. No doubt I’ll be visiting alot more now. :)

Last week, after months of pondering, and a few weeks of ‘but which one?’ I got a little frivolous and brought an HTC Desire. I’ve been pro Android well before I even considered purchasing a smart phone. This was in thanks to The Second Quarters avid convincing, but also because I managed to convince two other people to not buy an iPhone and to get a phone with an Android OS. When you’re convincing someone else, you inevitably end up convincing yourself and so there was no two ways about. When getting a smartphone: I was not getting iPhone.

There are a few reasons for this, but the ones that convinced me?

* While hurrah for open source OS’s, for me its the apps that make the phone. For the iPhone, the only apps you can get are ones that Apple decides you can get. With Android, there’s no censorship, and anti-competitive sentiments. You can have whatever apps you like, thanks.

* HTC Sense. One of the things it does: Your phone is ringing, so you pick it up. The volume drops cause you’re obviously aware now that your phone is ringing. You decide not to answer it, so you put it down, screen side down. Ringing stops. Your phone is totally aware that you don’t want to answer it. I don’t know if there is an iPhone alternative to this, but damn, I thought that was cool.

* To sync your iPhone, update firmware or update contacts + notes and whatnot, I’ve heard you need to physically plug in your iPhone to your machine and do it all via iTunes. When I’ve played around on an iPhone (usually thanks to The Third + Fourths Quarters, or Lyth) I’ve never seen them do this. But regardless? You don’t need to mod your Android phone to do the same. You can do with wirelessly, if that works for you. And, you can sync it to your google account, if you want to too. Or your facebook account, or even twitter and flickr. I didn’t know this till I got my phone, and all my facebook contacts ended up in my phone book. Handy, and meant that I didn’t have to enter everyones numbers in.

* Voice to Text. I’m still playing around with this feature (so far its been alot of fun, even if I haven’t used it practically, yet). iPhones dont have this functionality without an app. Android wins.

* Customisation. If you’re not down with Androids interface, you can pretty much change every facet of the user experience. On an iPhone, I hear you can change the wallpaper if the mood strikes you. Awesome.

* Home page widgets! Ah! I am a fan of these, of being able to view tweets and facebook and calendar apps straight from one of the (many) home pages, without having to open the app. I hear iPhones are really really good with shortcuts. Uhm . . . yeah.

* Apple is apparently not a fan of flash. Android doesn’t care what its a fan of, and is more worried about what you are a fan of. You want flash? Android is going to give it to you.

* Price. The iPhone 4 was, when I was looking, an easy $1099 + gst. The Android HTC Desire was $830 incl. gst.

There are a million more reasons, I’m not even going to go into the physical specs of the phones I considered buying. It just came down to the HTC Desire worked best for me.

The only downside of the phone so far? That Android Market (which uses Google Checkout) doesn’t easily let you purchase with a Google Account that uses their Domain Hosted email service, rather than a Google Account using gmail. The Second Quarter said something about porting, but I haven’t had a decent look at it, yet.

It’s probably good thing, because I would have thrown a stupid amount of money for a silly amount of games. (Oh Doodlejump. Perhaps it was never meant to be . . .)

And, well, there’s another, but its more me being an idiot than something wrong with the phone. I parallel imported my phone from Dubai. And now my phone really really wants me to be Muslim. It tells me when to pray and everything. These apps are unable to removed (even with a hard reset).To remove apps like the iQuran and the Quran Calender, I’d need to root my phone (which would invalidate the warranty) and upgrade to Froyo. Which is probably what I’m going to do. Or rather, what I’m going to get The Second Quarter to do (the boy organises Andriod Meet-ups. He’s going to do it better than I will). Still, this is more me buying my phone from Dubai bug than it is an Android issue. *shrug*

Still, I’m pretty stoked with what I’ve got. Are you stoked with your phone?

A few weeks ago a friend and I caught the ferry across to Waiheke, an island that’s about 40 minutes from the city. Honestly? It might as well have been hours away for all I thought about home. We were lucky enough to stay in a gorgeous little resort – the kind of resort that costs hundreds of dollars a night and is super luxurious. The kind that is surrounded by carefully manicured bush, with a private beach and boat house and spa pool almost big enough to swim in. It was all kinds of gorgeous and amazing.

It was a weekend of walks, and reading and naps. Of visiting farmers markets, and eating amazing bread. Of spending far too many hours submerged in hot water in the open air, looking up at the stars. Of picking ripe grapefruit from trees bowed down from the weight of all of them, and watching the rain storm across the ocean. It was about crazy random drives through the dark, of wineries and concerts that make you clap your hands and dance in your chair. It was about amazing food, and drummers that make you grin. It was a weekend of good company, and finally being able to take the time to relax, and recharge.

In short, it was amazing. A really brilliant weekend. Hopefully there shall be more like it.

There is this guy that I read, Ryan from Pacing the Panic Room. He’s a pretty good guy, I think. A brilliant guy, figuring out how to get his photography career off the ground, doing the best for his family, doing so in a funny and clever way. An all round stand up guy, really.

His step-son, LB, has Smith Magenis Syndrome. What I love about Ryan, is that on his blog he seperates the boy from the syndrome, while still acknowledging that LB has it. LB is a boy. He just also happens to be a boy that has SMS. A sweet, gorgeous little character. Though sometimes the glimpses he allows into LB’s life, well, it sounds hard. And I admire the attitude that Ryan and his wife Cole have. Like I said, an all round stand up guy.

To help spread awareness about SMS, and to raise funds, Ryan, with his music connections (as a record label guy, booking manager for clubs – he’s got an interesting past!) has put together an album. A KIDS album. An amazing kids album, actually. A kids album for parents too, the kind that is okay to listen to, and doesn’t make you want to tear your face off. No seriously.

100% of the proceeds from the sale of this album will be used to establish a SMS Research Fellowship that funds a graduate student to study SMS and support the SMS community.

Sounds good, right?

If you want to know more, visit pacingthepanicroom.blogspot.com.

If you wanna get on the bandwagon, get the cute green monster widget that plays the tracks, directs you to itunes and tells you where to make a donation? Go to dofunstuff.net or click “Share this widget” on the monster above for the code.

If not, that’s cool too. I like the idea of making a difference, but not everyone is into rocking the boat. However, I’m pretty sure most of you ARE into helping brilliant causes. So, please, visit dofunstuff.net. Check out their cause. Listen to the tracks. Buy the album. Learn. Love. And Do Fun Stuff.