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Returning to Wellington Life

April 13th, 2011 by admin
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Hi there, small but devoted readership! It’s A Wellington Life is back after The Lifer’s international travel, followed by an exceptionally evil flu.

Thanks for the survey responses and correspondence. The surprising survey responses! So glad I asked…who knew you wanted more fictionalized Wellington? That Wazzer had a fan club?

So, coming up, It’s A Wellington Life will have:

  • More Wellington region reviews/event notes.
  • After Easter, a new fiction storyline featuring, because you asked for her, Wazzer. Part of the delay in me posting about this is that Wazzer is based on a real person. And I wanted to ask Real!Wazzer if she was OK with being a protagonist. You’ll be pleased to hear that she’s all for it.
  • Only a small percentage of you liked the chapbook idea, but I’ll do it anyway. Look for it in July.

The Lifer will also be doing some more oh-hey-read-this-here-blog-thing promotion after Easter. Before Easter, the classic Kiwi task of DIY home improvement awaits.

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It’s A Wellington Life… In The Future

March 20th, 2011 by the_lifer
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And that concludes this storyline – you’ve had a year of fictionalized Wellington in this blog. So…what should happen next? Take the poll or leave comments and let me know what you think. I’m on the road for another week and a half, so the poll closes on midnight of March 31st.

What should happen next with this blog?

  • A new fiction storyline (54%, 15 Votes)
  • Nonfiction Wellington observations and reviews (21%, 6 Votes)
  • Wellington advice, this is a tough town (14%, 4 Votes)
  • Take the best entries, illustrate with cartoons, publish as chapbook (11%, 3 Votes)
  • Pack it in, this isn't the best use of web pixels ever (0%, 0 Votes)

Total Voters: 16

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Engagement Party Meteorology

March 18th, 2011 by admin
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The engagement party has wound down. Most of the party-goers have gone home to their babysitters, denture cream, or computers.  The few guests remaining are planning where to go next. A late bar crowd is oozing into the space.

Winona picks up the last of the engagement gifts, trailing ribbons. “That was nice, wasn’t it? Really nice. So glad everybody came.”

“Good mix. Good atmosphere.”  After an evening of blokely validation, Will lets his guard down a bit. He scoops up the extra ribbons and laces his fingers into hers, comfortably. “They say it’s all easy with the right person.”

Winona beams and toes the floor. “Oh, you.”

“Sure you want to wait until September to get a ring? That’s months away.”

As they head for the door, she chatters, “I know. But it won’t seem like long. If we’re house hunting, and then there’s the Film Festival again, and Angela says it really is worth it to wait until the Jewellery Show which will be in town then, and –”

Will opens the door and swears. The cloudy, dull evening has turned into a gale-whipped, sodden night. The pair dump their presents, seal themselves into their coats, and reconvene as a tight unit. They shove the door open again and hurtle into the storm.

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Engagement Party History

March 16th, 2011 by the_lifer
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At Winona and Will’s engagement party, the previous generation is holding up the bar.

“I don’t know about his having a party in a bar. Not the same as when I had mine at the Pines – that was a ballroom, then. Win could have had it at our house, like Helena did,” her stately mother, Wilhelmina, grumps. The awfully nice bearded older man she’s talking to looks familiar, but she can’t place him. “Where did you say your house was?”

“Te Aro. A lovely old villa, I’ve filled it with flatmates to pay the mortgage and keep me young. I used to live in the suburbs. Dreadful, nobody came to visit. I feel for young people today, it’s so hard to get a place in town.” He turns to Kev Kapiti. “How’ve you been keeping, mate?”

Largeman and Henry Hutt are nose to nose, roaring about Winona. “No idea she was your sister in law, eh? Bloody good at all this 21st century guff. Department twitter feed! Never heard of such nonsense in my life. Suppose we’ve got to have it, though.”

Will, off duty from welcoming guests, accepts a beer from his mate of many years, Wayne. “How’s being engaged?”

“Bloody brilliant. Should’ve done it years ago. Haven’t had to pay for a drink in weeks.”

“That’s ‘cause you pay for everybody’s drinks at the wedding,” Wayne observes.

Most of the younger women, meanwhile, are clustered around a sofa in the back. Will’s frail, twinkly Nan has been deposited there. “When I got married,” she creaks, “I made my own wedding dress. And cake.”  The girls sigh in admiration at this apotheosis of vintage craftiness.

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Engagement Party Chemistry

March 13th, 2011 by admin
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Winona and Will haven’t gone to much fuss for their engagement party. The back room of  Wazzer’s bar has been adorned with white fairy lights. A long table is jumbled with wine bottles, bowls of chips, and irregular engagement presents that arrived with guests. When Ulrika attempts a dramatic entrance, no-one pays much attention, they are all getting along so well and calling for more chips.

The happy couple are standing up, being introduced to some friends of Wazzer’s. “No, mate, they’re both my dates! Otto and Alf! They’re from Amsterdam!”

One of the tall dreadlocked blondes holds out his tattooed hand and says, “We are – how you say in English? Polydactyl? Polyamorous?” The other one nods in agreement, setting his saucer-sized ear disks wagging.

“I see,” Winona manages, faintly. She casts a quick look at avant-garde Karin, who is eyeing up the trio speculatively. If her sister was polyphonic, or whatever, it was surely overdue to start warping Wellington. “Do have a drink.”

Shy Willow plucks at Winona’s sleeve. “Who’s that? In the bowler hat?”

“Oh, that’s Will’s friend Owen from Omaru. I think he was in Christchurch for the quake.” Ignoring Willow’s embarrassed waving and shushing, she shouts, ‘Owen! Come here and meet Willow. She’s ever so brilliant!”

Sipping a stout, he ambles over, one thumb denting his braces. “And what do you do?”

“I’m a soil microbe scientist,” Willow stammers. Oh dear, she’d been doing so well lately, and now she gets to repel him instantly, she thinks.

But no. His eyes light up. “Really! Do you mind if I ask you some questions? I’ve been trying to enrich soil for avocados and…”

Ulrika hears someone behind her squeal. She turns, and a painfully well-groomed woman beams at her, to enunciate a well-bred, multi-syllable,  “Hello! I’m Win’s cousin, Angela. Down from Auckland. Your hair is just brilliant. Such a dark blue. And your cheekbones! That dress – is it Nom ‘D? I thought so. You’re so quintessentially Wellington, except you’re much too gorgeous. Do you ever come up to Auckland?”

“Auckland?”

“Oh, yes. It’s so much warmer. Do come up sometime, I must take you out to drinks. Can I post your picture on Facebook?” She squeezes beside Ulrika and snaps a shot at arm’s length.

Meanwhile, Ulrika’s entry has been noted by Will and Winona at last. Will watches this development with a creased brow. “What do you think they’re talking about?”

“No idea. Especially because Ulrika is smart. Oh! Hello, so nice to see you…”

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1 Event Invitation

March 9th, 2011 by admin
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Ulrika is gazing at her Facebook profile in disbelief. Surely Winona had not meant to send her an invitation to the engagement party for her and Will?

Professionally, a detente is in place. Will has been pleasant, but opaque. Personally, despite avoiding places like “their” cafe and the bar-where-everyone-goes, Ulrika is up against Wellington being a small town. When she went to drop off a batch of gingerbread for the Christchurch volunteers, there was Winona, with a box of lumpy biscuit slices.

Is it time to perhaps go back to Switzerland? Have an extra summer in her life? And yet, looking at scenes of Europe in a movie at the Film Society the other day, it seemed so closed and sterile. After two years in New Zealand, what used to seem unkempt, imperfect, not even trying, seemed human and relaxed now. Free, in a way.

And now this. Is the invitation an olive branch, or is Winona flaunting her triumph? After a furious hour, painting her nails gunmetal tipped with hot pink, she concludes that she has been invited simply because Wellington is so small, and…she’s there.

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IAWL Doesn’t Like….Housing Anxiety All Around

March 7th, 2011 by the_lifer
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Usually we keep it positive in editorial entries here (empanadas at the City Market this weekend!) but we are all worked up about housing this week.

A piece in the NZ Herald talks about flat hunting in Auckland but this tale of woe – the 5-month search, the desperate grooming to look like a presentable tenant – is familiar to anyone who has hunted during the tight season in Wellington, too. The comment thread is a perfect capsule of the the unhelpful conversations flat searchers have to put up with, which twist the knife and salt the wound when you’re on the hunt (you think this is bad, try Sydney! why don’t you try different suburbs? oh, you crazy students).

The list of Wellington’s officially quake-prone buildings has been exhumed and made public by thoughtful sites like this one. Lots of Facebook freak-outs ensued – business owners were even contemplating breaking leases.

And lastly, Christchurch residents are moving on out.. Word on the Wellington street is that lots of them are considering moving…here? “Wait a minute,” Wellingtonians say, “we just haven’t had our quake yet.” “That’s so,” the Cantabrians reply, “But you’re a big city that isn’t Auckland!”

I wish I had another one of those empanadas right now.

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Rouge et Noir

March 4th, 2011 by the_lifer
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Wazzer’s bar is packed tonight, a sea of red and black clothing. Everyone has turned out for a stellar live gig that is benefiting the Christchurch earthquake fund, sipping Christchurch benefit beers. Winona has a smart new jersey, bought at a Christchurch benefit sale. Despite a week spent seeking to benefit Christchurch in every possible way, she is still ill at ease, and shouting in her friend Willow’s ear.

“The thing is Will and I were going to have an engagement party, but just before we sent out the invites, the quake happened. Now it just seems horridly selfish, having a party when somebody else’s city is in ruins. What do you think?”

“I don’t think it’s selfish. Would you have it here? Or somewhere else?”

“Well, we’d reserved one of the rooms here. Maybe it could be a Christchurch benefit engagement party…but how would that work…”

Willow shifts from foot to foot. Someone in the crowd spills benefit lager on her arm, mutters “Sorry!”, but goes away leaving her smelling like hops. It’s 11:30 and the music still hasn’t started. She wishes, acutely, she had done the Night In For Charity instead. She says, “We all have to get on with our lives, too. Do have a party! It will be nice to have something to celebrate.”

She’s gratified when Winona promptly becomes absent-minded with party planning. Perhaps it’s OK to leave because she’s paid her Christchurch benefit money?

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Not Again

February 23rd, 2011 by admin
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Wellington was creepy last night. The veils of rain felt like winter, suddenly. Despite all the bars being full of people,  it was eerily subdued.  They were quiet as they drank. Everyone’s eyes were glued to screens; TV screens, computer screens, smartphone screens, whatever would give them a news infusion the fastest. For the second Christchurch earthquake is a very digitzed disaster.

It was so much easier last time. Wellingtonians could trot out the platitudes: “At least nobody was seriously hurt or killed…everyone did so well…pity about Gran’s garage…did you know anyone down there?” Not this time. Saying any of these things in a Wellington bar last night, you’d’ve been invited to take it outside.

Didn’t hear anyone saying, “That should have been Wellington’s earthquake,” either. But I did catch someone glancing at the high hills that hem in every area of this town, and whispering, “Fuck…”

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