Flickr Favorites: Kitten of the Week

... with accompanying photo stream.

Kitten of the Week is definitely what readers of a humanitarian travel blog want. High five to self.

xx

More Tiger Related News

On my way back after my ten weeks in India, I’m stopping off in Bangkok for some chill time. I’m pretty much planning to spend my whole time by the hotel pool downing frozen cocktails; but I thought I’d do one cultural excursion- the Tiger Temple!

I decided to go with the package where you get to go early in the morning and have breakfast with the monks, play with precious little baby tigers, get a full tour, and then go have photos with the big ones in the sun.

However, when I tried to book it, my travel agent flat out refused- apparently all her contacts in Thailand refuse to make bookings for the Tiger Temple because of the animal abuse that goes on there.

I did some research online, and there seem be diametrically opposed views about the tiger temple- half the people insist the tigers are just sleepy during the daytime because they're nocturnal (So there's no drugging) and if they weren't at the temple they'd be had by poachers; while the other half insist the tigers are beaten, abused, bought from illegal tiger farms, housed in tiny concrete cells and that the whole temple is just a revenue gathering evidence. Unfortunately, the naysayers have youtube videos, National Geographic articles and reports from international animal welfare organizations backing up their claims; where as the proponents just seem to have cool photos of them with  dopey looking tigers heads on their laps.

It just seems way too good to be true that there’s a place where 400 pound Tigers will cheerfully consent to me hugging them and telling them they’re ‘the best kitty’; so I think no matter how badly I want to believe it, I’ll just have to wait till I come home to my actual kitties.

Like Coco. She's just as good as a tiger.

xx

Things I Want But Won't Buy: Addendum

This is an absolutely stellar bikini and I want it on me.
However I am going to exercise my Batman-esque* iron willpower and not buy it. Because...
a) I'm probably not going to do a hell of a lot of lounging around pools in India
b) It's going to take several bouts of dysentery before I look as good in this as I'd like to
c) I need to start being vaguely more humanitarian; and that means stop blowing my money on stuff like this when there are people starving in the world and getting freaky vintage diseases that could be cured with salt and clean water.

*Batman circa the 1992 Animated Series, of course. Not Adam-West Batman.

I am not Jasmine, I am Aladdin

I've spent the last few days compare shopping mosquito nets; and it's not going very well. I'm usually awesome at shopping- I have about five different online sources for Jeffrey Campbells; and I always manage to get free bits and pieces whenever I buy an iPod. But when I asked the dude at Kathmandu what the comparative benefits of his $89.99 mosquito net versus the $30 one at the military surplus store* he just kind of stared at my four inch platform heels** and wandered off.

I get the feeling I am not doing very well at this.

It's not that I haven't travelled before- I totally have, loads. And even to third world countries. But I generally tend to be going to a resort where all the mosquitos will already have been removed for my convenience, so I'm a little out of my depth here.

I've been doing my best to prepare as well as I can, but I think the fact is, I have no idea what to expect. So I'm going to stuff my suitcase with bug spray and baby wipes and hand sanitizer and twenty pairs of shoes and I'll probably end up throwing half of it out when I get there; and just hope I don't die or get too much dysentery or get mauled by a monkey. Millions of Indian people manage to survive in Jaipur everyday, surely I can too?

xx

* I already know the answer to that question. It's the mental security of knowing that you have not purchased an item key to your future survival from a man with a samurai sword collection and a handle bar mustache.
**I can almost walk in them. Almost. Fuck yeah, Jeffrey Campbell.

Post Script: I actually do already have a mosquito net. But it's not the kind that actually repels mosquitos, just the kind that I can hang over my bed and pretend I'm a fairy princess. It drives my boyfriend crazy and he ends up violently trying to swipe it out of his face in the night. I sort of want to buy him one for his birthday just to see the look of horror on his face.

Neither a borrower nor a lender be

In the lead up to departing for India, I’ve been trying to tie up loose ends. Sort out my papers for next trimester, cancel my subscriptions, return all my library books- that kind of thing. And I’ve also been trying to sort out debt- both when it comes to things owing, and things owed to me. I even paid all my various video store fees around town*!

I decided to finally get my flatmate-from-hell (As seen in this post) to pay me back for the corset she ripped and the alcohol she stole, totaling $75**. I started off months ago with a friendly, passive-aggressive note on her door covered in smiley faces reminding her she promised to pay this week; and I’ve followed up again and again through facebook and texts- about half the time she ignores me; and the other half she promises to pay me back next week, or the week after or just whenever she has the money and inclination. Which I suspect will be never.

It’s now culminated in the facebook argument of the century in which I informed her she had until Monday to propose a payment plan or I would pass the matter on to my solicitor***; and her responding with stuff like ‘you want to see what happens if it gets personal’ and ‘you just expect things!’****

The worst thing about this process is how awful I’ve felt sending these texts and emails. I feel like a greedy, nasty, nagging unkind person- and I hate it. I don’t think I should feel bad- it was kind of me to do the lending in the first place; and she’s the one that’s been dishonest and taken advantage of me; but I still can’t shake the unhappy feeling that comes with having to make demands on someone- even someone I don’t like.

I’ve also got a whole other thing going on with a girl who borrowed my dress about a year ago and keeps forgetting to give it back and now seems to be super angry with me- and the whole thing is just one big depressing mess that's making me sad.

I don’t think I’m going to see my money or my dress again, but I guess I can chalk it up to experience and make a policy never to lend cash or items to anyone. But fuck having to pay so much for a moral lesson, I’m sure there’s an episode of the Facts of Life that could have taught it to me cheaper!

xx

*I’ve moved house so often in the last four years that I have about six different video memberships- and fines at each one.

** I know it doesn’t seem like a lot, but I’m a student- so it’s a lot to me. And it’s 2,747 rupees!

*** I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this, but my dad is the coolest.

**** Yeah…I totally do expect things, bro. I expect you to pay me back for the stuff you stole and broke.

Post script: When I mentioned to a friend I was writing this, he gasped and said ‘Aren’t you worried she’ll read it?’ No. No, I’m really not. In fact, I’d love it if she did. And then she should read this post, too. And maybe this one.

I am sick and the world has stopped spinning.

I have a horrible horrible flu, so I've spent the whole day in bed drinking expensive orange juice and taking too many painkillers* to try and quell the thunderdome situation in my frontal lobes.

But if I wasn't at home feeling sorry for myself, I would be attending the Wellington Young Feminists Collective Slutwalk. The Slutwalk is a protest aimed not just at rapists but at the society which allows rape to flourish- judges who let defendants in a rape case demand to know what the women was wearing, girls who call other girls 'sluts', men who say women are 'asking for it' when they wear a short skirt, police officers who suggest that if women don't want to be raped they should dress modestly and stay in at night.

Rape is never the fault of the victim- no matter what she is wearing or how slammin' her ass was looking; and I hope that todays Slutwalk will be able to remind Wellingtonians of that fact.

*As my dad says, pain is for peasants.

5 Things I Desperately Want to Buy, But Haven’t, Because I’m Saving For India

1. Melissa & Doug 6ft Long Tiger Plushie

My boyfriend recently, in a very casual way, mentioned he was thinking about what to get me for my birthday. I immediately sent him the link to this bad boy.

“THIS. THIS IS WHAT I WANT. GET IT FOR ME. Do not stop, do not pass go, do not buy me some crappy shit- PURCHASE THIS GODDAM TIGER.”

I think honest communication is important in a relationship and my Karlos needed to know I honestly need this tiger so much. I could pretend it was him when I get lonely (Long distance relationships are balls);I could pretend I was Princess Jasmine (My favorite Disney princess) and this was my pet tiger Raja; I could even pretend it was my kitty for when I miss my kittens. The only thing I couldn’t pretend to be is a mature adult who makes sensible purchase decisions.

Hit the jump for the other 4.

Until I actually go to India I guess this is less a travel blog and more a baking blog

Oh hey look it's just your average pink cupcake with sprinkles, nothing to see here...

WOAH HOLY SHIT there's a freaking RAINBOW inside that cupcake!!!

I felt guilty about telling my four year old niece to shut up the other morning so I thought I'd do something nice for her. And what could possibly excite a four year year old girl (or anyone, for that matter) more than a cupcake with a rainbow inside?*

One of my favorite things about living with my parents is their nice kitchen that's easy to bake in. It's almost as great as their amazing high pressure shower; and their working fire place. Why does anyone ever leave home?

*A cupcake with a unicorn inside, obviously. But Harry Potter teaches us that unicorn slaughter is wrong, so no.

It didn't hurt cos I'm a badass

I got my injections for traveling today. I had to get four but it's ok, I'm not bothered by needles- I once pierced my own tongue with a safety pin minutes before giving a speech at my best friends 21st*. So when it came to this I was just like, 'Yeah, stick it in me!'

Immunizations are awesome- I love the idea that with one little injection, this river of sciencey magic is suddenly flowing through your veins as you go about your daily business; pretty much giving you the super power to be immune to these scary disease that used to decimate entire populations. Do you ever say to yourself, 'Gee, I'm glad I don't have smallpox?' No? Well, you should. And you should also send a thank you letter to the United Nations about that too.

I was a little concerned that all the different vaccines would merge into some kind of supervirus which would destroy humanity as we know it, but the nurse assured me it was not going to happen.

*My speech was awesome.

Sharing is Caring

A few people offered to buy the recipe for my epic Oreo Cookies from me; but I'd feel a little guilty selling it since I didn't make it up. So, I've decided to post it here and if people try it and enjoy, they are welcome to make a donation as a thank you.

I even made a batch today and photographed the step -by-step process; for people that suck at baking. This specific batch was made as a thank you gift for someone who donated- if you'd like me to make you a batch too you can find out how here.

Hit the jump for the recipe; and a zillion cook-along photos- including a short guide on how to make your own strawberry cream double stuff oreos.

Imma celebrity, go 'head and google me

There was an article about my friends and I today in the dominion post. Epic!

I loved it. They printed all of the smart stuff I said, and none of the stupid dorky stuff. And the picture was really nice- I wasn’t smiling. Serious and horny*, that’s the way to go. I don’t smile in photos because my front teeth are a little crooked (I refused to get braces when I was 14 because I said they were bourgeoisie); and although I maintain my imperfect teeth are cute, that doesn’t mean I want them photographed. Ever.

I’m very excited and I can’t wait to send a copy to my grandma in New York- I haven’t been in the newspaper since I was 15 and there was a large photo of my cleavage accompanied by a small paragraph about how I and my miraculous underage breasts were visiting the UN in the Hague.

One thing that struck me about this whole experience is how easy it is to ‘alert the media’- after the whole fun drama with the girls on the bar, a couple of people suggested I do so. So, I just rang the number on the Dom Post’s website and a nice reporter called Tom Hunt answered who politely listened to my story then allowed me to question him endlessly about how funny it is that a portion of his job is to sit around and answer the phone when randoms call in with things they think are news. A couple of days later, there was a photographer and in interview in my gross student flat, and bang. I’m totally famous now. Lol, jks.

Hopefully a few people see it and are inspired to donate/ bid on what's left of my auction, which should go a little way towards fixing the damage from yesterdays calamity. 

*Kidding. 30 Rock/Jenna quote!


Post script: The title of this blog, is of course, a reference to Teyana Taylor's 2009 smash hit Google Me Baby. A timeless classic that truly encapsulates the spirit of this age.

I hate the world and everyone in it.

Trade Me just accidentally deleted all my auctions- including the one that had 20,000 views and dozens of comments; about which there is most probably a story running in the dom post tomorrow. They're not going to do anything to fix it, but at least they said sorry. Which totally makes up for the hundreds of dollars I'm now not going to raise for charity. (I'm being sarcastic. It doesn't make up for it. I hate them.)


They deleted them (without bothering to contact me first) on the grounds that I have more than one account- which is totally true. I have one account that I buy vintage crockery and dirty costumes for the Big Kumara on, and one that I use for charity fundraising. It is both organizationally easier and fiscally prudent to keep the two separate.


My father(Who is the best lawyer ever and a total rockstar) read their terms and conditions and called them; and got them to admit that not only had I not done anything wrong and they deleted my account in error; but that the rule referenced may not even exist- it is against having multiple 'aliases'- an alias being a false identity. I have exactly zero false identities, unless you count the name I give to gross guys in clubs*


Someone from trade me is allegedly going to call tomorrow morning and hopefully they will be able to fix the situation. But as it stands it looks like I've lost hundreds of dollars to go towards school materials for disadvantaged women; wasted several weeks of hard work getting this done and it's going to be pretty embarrassing if that story runs in the Dominion Post tomorrow and the auction which it references does not, in fact, exist.


So, fuck my life. Fuck Trade Me. My first order of business tomorrow once this mess is over os to call them, tell them they are bad and negligent people, and cancel my account. I'll spend my money on ASOS instead.


*It's Jess. Jess Dragonweasel.


UPDATE: Trade me refunded my money and I have relisted my auctions. I also received confirmation that the Dom Post will be running the story tomorrow. 
So, this may have been a big setback but all is not lost. Big thank you to my very patient boyfriend for giving me a spelling test at 2am last night to calm me down; to my amazing dad for yelling at literally everyone who works at trade me(hell hath no fury like an american with multiple law degrees); and to everyone who has/will bid on the new listings. Onwards and upwards!


BUT WAIT, THERES MORE: Because enough is never enough when it comes to harassing small charities; trade me has made me remove all my baked items. Even though theres lots of other home baked items on the website. Seriously, fuck these guys.


ONE MORE THING: They(trade me) emailed me asking about 'the things I wrote in my blog'. Aw, somebody actually reads my blog- loves it!

Goodbye, Urban-Bohemian Lifestyle

I finished moving out of my flat today. I had to give it up to go to India; and I'm going to miss it so much. It may have been tiny and had holes in the wall; and my flatmate may have had sex with a stranger  in my bed, drank all my margarita, broken my corset, borrowed my expensive nail polish all the time without asking and made my loofah smell like cigarette smoke*- but it was my tiny, dilapidated, asshole-flatmate-infested flat, goddamit. And I'm going to miss it.

Everything was where I liked it- I had my iced water and green apples all lined up in the fridge, my penguin classics arranged alphabetically, my clothes divided by color and my shoes divided by level of stripperishness; and the perfect amount of throw pillows.

Now I've moved home to my attic in Seatoun. Which is awesome; because I get to hang out with my family and my cats and my niece; but not awesome because it's an attic, my cats breathe in my face while I sleep** and my niece gets pissed if I don't play with her enough or if I do play with her but don't let her win everything. Whatever bitch, it's not my fault that I'm awesome at puzzles and hide n seek.

1 month till I leave for India. Scary!

*Seriously. I tried to wash my face and it was like I was being smothered to death by an aged prostitute.
** I think they're waiting for me to die so they can feast on my still-warm flesh.

Media Shitstorm

Questions have been raised on my trade me auction as to whether it is appropriate to use a picture of attractive women to advertise the sale of the bar whose proceeds are going to help disadvantaged women.

Firstly, I'd like to point out that putting a picture of a pretty girl using a product is hardly a novel form of advertising. The models are both beautiful, healthy, educated young women- and their choosing to use their good looks to promote a good cause is not an insult to women; be they in New Zealand or Jaipur.

Secondly, feminism does not mean conforming to a strict set of standards that decide how an emancipated women should behave. To us, it means having the freedom to live how you want, to express yourself and to be treated as an equal regardless of the length of your skirt or the color of your hair.

Peace out, hombres x

Frances

p.s. One of the scandalously scantily clad girls in question has expressed her opinion on the matter... you can read it here

EXCITEMENT

GREAT SUCCESS!

Trade Me chose one of my auctions to be on the 'cool auctions' section of the website!
This means it's going to get thousands of views, comments and pretty much just a TON of exposure!
I am SO EXCITED!

Obviously, this would not have happened if my gorgeous friends Alyse and Rachelle had not offered to be my models. You guys are seriously wonderful. Go you for using your powers of hotness for good!

YAY YAY YAY!

You can check out the auction here

Alyse

You should check out my friend Alyse's blog- not only because she's cool and it's a good blog; but because a lot of her posts touch on the feminist issues that pretty much inspired me to choose the volunteer program I did.

It's much harder than it should be to develop a sense of your own feminism; and without my weekly drunken discussions with Alyse I probably would not have gotten as far as I have.

It's difficult to write about feminism without feeling like a pretentious douche. What do I know about serious stuff? I had gummy bears for breakfast and I'm wearing three shades of sparkly nail polish. But yeah; check out her blog! 

Charity Auction

I finally got my shit together and organized my charity auction on Trade Me. Yay!

I've never actually fundraised for anything before; so I hope this goes well. I put a lot of effort into it and I'm going to be gutted if no one bids on anything. 

But how could they not. That whole auction is like a smorgasbord of awesomeness.

And even if they don't my plan B is to just sell all the dirty pictures I took of Rachelle and Alyse sprawled on my bar to buy teaching supplies. It's pretty much a win-win for the orphans.

Karlos!

Thank you very much to my awesome boyfriend for designing this blog and making the awesome piece of art in the header.
And also thank you for listening to me cry over the phone several times a week when i lose my passport, stub my toe, experience existential dread or just generally have a bad day.
And most of all, when I called you and said "Yeah, so I think I'm going to go to India for the rest of the year"; thank you for saying "That's cool, bro."

You can go check out more of his amazing artwork on his blog, Karl ThiART.

Introduction

In July of this year I will be skipping out on the second trimester of university in Wellington to spend ten weeks volunteering in an IDEX Women's Empowerment program in Jaipur, India:

India has traditionally favoured the education of men over that of women. As such, many women in India have not had the opportunity to gain a quality education or education equal to that of their male counterparts. Volunteers have the opportunity to empower some of the neediest women, whose access to education and life skills have been severely limited. These include women who live in slums, women who have experienced domestic violence, women from self-help groups and orphaned adolescent girls.

This blog is a way for family, friends and other interested parties to keep updated on my adventures; and also to provide constant assurance to my mom that I am alive and haven't been kidnapped/robbed/had my face ripped off by a rabid monkey.

x

Frances