Odds, ends.

It's Hallowe'en today, so a happy one to you if you celebrate that sort of thing. We don't as such, other than taking it as another excuse to dress skanky and party hard (speaking generally, not personally... of late, anyway). During my childhood I remember 'trick-or-treating' only once in my neighbourhood, and visiting neighbours Mum had called ahead to check with.

The only big event we have to celebrate prior to Christmas is Guy Fawkes Night next Saturday, which I'm definitely looking forward to. Again- an excuse to party hard, accompanied by a rather lovely fireworks display over the Wellington harbour.

Voting begins today on what has possibly been the lamest ongoing news story this year. I can't completely ridicule the debate itself considering I'm on one side of it... but I'll whinge away regardless. Wellington Airport is absolutely determined to erect a sign on the Miramar Peninsular, and originally proposed 'Wellywood'... which you definitely couldn't mistake for being well-received by the public. During the Rugby World Cup they had All Blacks written in the Hollywood style, but despite the team's win, that's old news and a replacement sign needs to be erected. There's a bunch of options up on the Dominion Post website now, but whichever option the public prefers is still going to go up against the original 'Wellywood' proposal. Why anyone would want to draw any more attention to that ugly stretch of land is beyond me, but 'no sign' is apparently unacceptable.

So apparently the seven billionth baby will be born today. How very specific. This little widget from the BBC tells you what number you were, at the time of your birth. I was the 5,203,424,840th person alive on Earth, and the 80,216,507,668th person to have lived since history began. Which is all very nice, until I look at those numbers and realise Jonathan Safran Foer was lying, and every man and his dog could play Hamlet after all.

This blog post is the most tragic thing I've read in... well, days. Damn my curiousity for the macabre. A blogger has written out her memory of the night her son Jack died, only a couple of months ago. It's not an uplifting, inspiring tale- just very, very sad. You have been warned! Definitely made me want to go give my parents a hug.

I'm crazy about Instagram, so in case I go AWOL again you should probably follow me there.

Lastly, a plug for myself- I'm selling my Irregular Choice boots here on Trade Me (New Zealand only) if you have size 7ish (Euro 38) feet.

What's new with you?