Before: Just an innocent box that once housed my favourite handbag, awaiting its next mission as a Christmas decoration storage facility …
I was packing up our Christmas tree decorations a few weeks ago when Norman the cat discovered the Louis Vuitton box I was planning to use for the tinselly bits and bobs. She just couldn’t help herself and ended up sleeping in there for most of the night. Excuse the blurry second photo, the box was moving!
Perhaps there’s a market for Louis Vuitton: designer pet beds?
Oh, and what would Gareth Morgan make of all this?
Had a shockingly good result yesterday … my cardiologist is very happy with my progress. So happy, in fact, she wants to hold off for six months, do another ECG and then decide on the hardware because I might not need it.
OK, so my heart is still damaged, I still have cardiomyopathy and will be on these drugs for the rest of my life. But I might not need surgery because the bundle branch blockage has improved and my heart has reduced in size (from 5.7 inches across to 4.9, she tells me).
This was very much unexpected: the hope was that I would stabilise so I could have the surgery, but there was no suggestion that things would improve like this, so all-in-all we’re pretty bloody happy with the results.
It’s always good to learn something on a Monday, so if you’ve ever wondered about the inner workings of your locks … here’s the answer.
I’m perpetually perplexed by the fact that our front door has two locks and I have two corresponding keys on my keyring but while they both fit into the bottom lock, only one turns it. What is so strange about this is that the on the other two sets of keys for the house, the keys for the lock at the top of the door don’t fit the bottom lock.
It was a story that had the makings of a Hollywood tearjerker: hunky jock loses both his grandmother and the love of his life in the space of six hours, then goes on to lead his football team to an astounding upset win instead of going to his girlfriend’s funeral because she wanted him to keep playing.
Wow. Break out the tissues.
But did Lennay Kekua (the girlfriend) really die? More to the point, did she ever really exist?
The story of the tragic Manti Te’o and his inspirational efforts certainly got plenty of attention in the media but the attention the story is now attracting isn’t so flattering: this is a huge read but well worth the effort. Click here to check it out.
* If you don’t get the reference, here’s the explanation:
Just to prove that I’m not ALWAYS in a pissed off mood, I recommend Invercargill Taxis, cab # 202.
Why? Well, we were at Farmers on the Saturday before Christmas and it was chaos. We were leaving the car park and expecting it to take forever because of the volume of traffic from Farmers, the Warehouse across the road and the lights and crossing between the two (when we arrived traffic was backed up for as far as the eye could see because the lights weren’t green long enough each time to clear the backlog of cars get across the crossing, so the cars trying the leave the two car parks on opposite sides of the road were also backed up. Oh joy!)
Anyway, we were leaving the car park with the expectation that we’d be waiting for a while, when a lovely driver in an Invercargill Taxis car stopped to let us out. So thank you cab 202, I hope you had a splendiferous Christmas.