Posts by Megan Wegan
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"Continuity is a big issue on television and we didn't have the time or money to be wasting hours every day on cosmetic dirt and 'realistically' ratty wigs."
Having said that, Claire's crazy hair this last season: Awesome. (I'd have gone nuts too, if my hair looked like that.)
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(*In hindsight, I can't believe I'm arguing with someone over whether it makes more sense for genetically modified polar bears, reindeer or horses with coats on to turn a wheal on a magic Island.)
I remember, back in the halcyon days, when we were all saying "what the *&^%? I don't understand, but I love it", rather than "WTF? Worst finale EVER" having a fight with a friend about Kate's hair.
She felt that it was unrealistic Kate's hair could be so shiny and soft-looking. I felt that being willing to suspend belief that there'd been a polar bear on a tropical island, but not that someone on the plane had a secret cache of conditioner, was slightly ridiculous.
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That photo of Marbo caused some serious squee over here on Auckland's westside, let me tell you.
Glad to oblige. I got to hang out with him on the weekend. He's my favourite animal in the world. Including the human ones.
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And don't be afraid of dogs - there's some really good ones around, like your friend, Marbo. And my Cleo
If only it were that easy. When I was a child, whenever I went to my Uncle's house, he had to lock his dog in the garage.
Said dog was a geriatric sheep dog called Duke, and he was, if memory serves, gorgeous and gentle and lovely.
But I wouldn't be outside if he was. Wimp.
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After my cat harry died, it took me ages to decide I want another one. I am now moving into a flat, and I am getting a new kitten, and i CAN NOT wait.
But looking at the "available now" page on the SPCA's website reduced me to tears yesterday.
Also, I have always considered myself very much a cat person, and am slightly afraid of dogs. But three weeks dogsitting Marbo, a bernese mountain dog, cured me of both my fear of them, and turned me into a complete dog person.
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The shortest of the bunch is five foot three, and they treat her as though she's practically a freak of nature. It occurred to me while watching last week that *I'm* five foot three
Don't panic Danielle, 5'3" is a bloody excellent height to be.
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Oh, David. This isn't the first time you've made me cry.
As Emma says, the pub didn't really seem the right place to talk about it, and not so soon, but many many hugs to you and yours.
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he came and spoke to my class when i was studying. Back in the days before Twitter, before Facebook, when Blogger was new, and I had only had a couple of email addresses.
I remember thinking at the time that he was a visionary. That he would be a good man to know, to follow, to be able to talk to. That there was all this new stuff coming and he'd be someone worth listening to about it.
And I did, and now he'll be sorely missed.
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And that's how it should be, how it is in my mind when I think about Canterbury winters, and surely how it usually is. Cold, yes, but sharply, almost painfully clear. And that's fine, I don't mind the kind of bright cold you can feel on your eyeballs.
After a few to many grey, windy, wet, cold, horrible Wellington winter days, I long for those freezing, crisp, but bright blue winter days Christchurch has. When you can see your breath, and clothes freeze on the washing line, but it is sunny and cloudless.
Of course, Wellington always seems to know exactly when I am about to snap and book flights down, and it puts on a day of such brilliance I am inspired to walk to Roseneath just for the view.
Oh. And cemeteries? I grew up just around the corner from the Linwood cemetery. It was ramshackle then, so I can't imagine what it is like now. But my late grandmother and I used to go walking in it, and look at the graves. I can remember her being horribly sad looking at the headstones of small children.
I actually think I did a primary school project on it, complete with pictures of some of the cooler monuments. I wonder if it is still around somewhere....
These days, I pretty much only go to Ashvegas to visit the dead relatives.
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Thank you -- eight shows a week, two matinees, no cover.
Uninsurable, you mean?
Huh. That's totally not what I was picturing on reading 'no cover'.
(Craig's partner in Lowering the Tone, exits, stage left.)