Hubris.co.nz

I don’t know if you’ll get this. If I list all the reasons I like this last boy, will you misread it? Will you think that he’s vitally vitally important to me, and worry about telling em things, and think that in the grand scheme of things that he really matters? Because he doesn’t. How do I drill that into your fucking head? How do I explain what’s really important? And how do I make you see that hte black clouds haven’t gone away, and that they won’t ever go away really properly? Because you don’t get it, and if you’ve ever felt like I have, then you too are pretending like it won’t ever happen again; like you’re CURED, and it doesn’t come back. Guess what? It does. But that wasn’t my point. My point was glee, I guess, inspired by a conversation with Jezza tonight about another boy in flannel pajamas. Now you may or may not know that now I really don’t respect this boy anymore, on account of him behaving more than a little immaturely lately (oh shut up, this is about him, not me) but the point was that it’s still a really cute, endearing memory that he put on flannel pjs after shagging me. So can we please move on to the next boy (who is like, umm 3 boys after the flannel boy in terms of being the object of my affection? smething like that anyways)? Thank you.

Reasons why I have a crush on the latest boy:

You still don’t fucking get it though, do you? Because I’ve had so much time to think about this, to figure it all out in my mind, to the point where everything becomes predictable, where I know what people are going to say before they say it, and where it’s almost like there’s no point in having conversations anymore. Why don’t you suprise me? Go on. I bet you can’t. See, that’s your problem maybe, your defeatist attitude. And I’m sorry if you think that I’m being unnecessarily harsh, so if it helps, maybe I’m not talking to YOU at all, I’m talking to someone else. How dare you think that you’re the centre of my universe at all, after all?

So one of the things that we talked about last night in the so many hours of conversation that my throat was sore this morning about how it’s so much easier to write when you’re unhappy because when you’re joyous you wanna hold it all to yourself and just smile over it, and so I’m going to make an effort to share my glee with the world. Although of course, in that case maybe i should play something other than the Cure, but that’d mean like, Brian Adams or something – my parents have an awful lot of cds, but very few good ones, since Mum seems to have hidden all her NZ music.

But here’s where we’re at. There is a mouse running around in ym bedroom in Auckland, which meant I slept on the couch on Tuesday night, restlessly, having weird codeine spiked dreams. I shrieked at the mouse, and wanted to jump up on a chair. When I rang Tom for reassurance he said I sounded the most feminine that i ever had. And now of course, my landlord’s phoneline doesn’t work, and her cellphone is out of range, so I am not a happy camper at all! Or at least, I wouldn’t be, if i was still in Auckland. But as it happens, I am in Wellington, with a big stupid grin on my face. So there.

Oh for fucks sake Tom, is there anyone you DON’T know? Stop trying to be Kate Hamlin. Or Justin, I guess this case is, kinda.

Where was I? Oh, Bo and I struggling with my suitcase up to behind the Sheraton so I could get the bus to the airport (I have now traded with Momma for her suitcase on wheels), then the flight to Wellington being completely bumpy and horrible. I was smiling like a crazy woman cos we all know i like being scared, whilst trying not to be sick as we landed. Then Momma picked me up and we had lunch at the Crank Cafe, and I got to go home and have a nap before having to drive her places in the van so she could get the tyres changed on the car. Mmmmm nap. And hten I took another one after that, so nice to not have to worry about mice running around. After that, I had dinner with Mummy and Daddy, and they dropped me off at Espressaholic to meet up with Fatty Si Si.

I had a drink there with his friends, and then as soon as we stepped out on the pavement, Henry started making me laugh because he really is a very strange boy. It was so nice to finally get to see Simon again too, cos he kicks so much ass. Anyways, so we headed up the road to Traffic, which was booked out for Ayna’s party. It is SUCH a nice venue, I am so totally going to have something there sometime. It’s the old Indian restaurant that used to be public loos before that (yes i know, it sounds wrong but it’s just so right). One round room at one end had a tiled floor, and a fresco ceiling and turntables set up in it, and the other round room at the other end had a pretty blue ceiling that ended up looking like the ceiling at the Civic to me, and persian rugs and low couches, and in between those rooms is an area with a pool table, and then another area with a regular nice kinda bar in it, and it’s all painted dark red, adn there’s a fire in the bar bit. So yeah, fantastic venue. And there was just such a good vibe going on, cos there were three people having their birthdays, so it was all friends and the place was full, and it just felt really nice. Lotsa djs took turns playing, and it was all fullspectrum drum&bass and also lotsa different kinds of hiphop, and there was a guy mcing over the drumandbass at times, so it was very cool. I danced my ass off. I talked to lots and lots of people. I lisped my way through half a little piece’o cardboard. Si Henry and I sat in the corner of the chillout room for ages and ages and ages, covering a heatvent up with a plant cos it was too hot and I felt like iw as going to die from laughing so hard at them singing a little worker’s song – stampy stampy sorty sorty stacky stacky. If only i had a song like that, I’m sure my workdays would fly by too. At some other stage of the night, a girl pulled out a container of kalamata olives out of her bag, and Si had a sack of pistachios. I love Wellington people who carry backpacks! I wormed my way into conversations with random people when I got bored,a dn defended the “dark arts” that I studied before finally hearing that one of the guys I was talking to worked in Communications anyway. I suggested that someone run around the block if they had too much energy and lauhged soundly when they actually did. I danced and danced and danced and danced, adn then I danced some more. The music was amazing and everyone was dancing so well. I love poeple who do mad things with their feet. It was such a good night! Si left sometime around 12, and I thought about going with him cos he’d said his flatmate was away so I coulda crashed there and saved cabfare, but i was having far too much fun. I didn’t really get much of a chance to talk to Ayna,b ut she seemed really happy that I was there, so that was cool. One very e’d up girl who I’d never met before hauled me to my feet and told me off for crossing my arms in front of myself – “you don’t have to cover yourself up! you’ve got a beautiful body (with a little handmovement curvy drawing thing too)! don’t you like yourself?”. She was scary and made me self concious, wheras before then I’d been far too happy and comfortable and mellow and chilled out to even think about shit like that (oh and i was wearing my cleavage top, which I love). Eventually I just sat on a couch on the dancefloor for hours, having a long and engrossing conversation about the history of Soul Music (“I love hte vibe,” he says, and then he says “let’s just sit here and enjoy it” and he leans in even closer, puts his head on my shoulder and we almost fall asleep). And then I walked him across town and had ot leave in Cuba Street cos there wouldn’t have been any more taxis, and the driver was just grinning at me going “so you had a good night did you?” cos he would have seen the dithering, and hte hugs and the kisses on the cheek. And I smiled all the way home.

This morning Mummy woke me up for brunch – pancakes and bananas and pig, and she wrote me a list’o things to remember, and then they left, and I floated around the house all afternoon. This evening i went to another PR function, this one held in the Portrait Gallery of Bowen House. It was okay – I talked to some people. Steve Maharey (Minister of Tertiary Education and Broadcasting) gave a speech, adn then I went and talked to him and he gave me the name of the guy who runs his media unit so that i can express my interest in working htere. No one flat-out offered me a job. Then I went to see Anji, and she didn’t have a key to our house and i knew I’d locked myself out. I went home to meet up with KateB but our neighbours were out, and the laundry window was shut, so Kate and I had to drive back to town to Karen’s to get the key off her. My time down here is going to be so hectically social. Everyone wants a piece’o me, and while I want a piece’o everyone too, right now after last night, I think there are people that I want more pieces of than others. I’m filthy. Except that I’m actually not, because once again, when I actually really like someone, I respect them far too much to make a move. Darn.

Tuesday September 17th, 2002

1. Oh really, Crushmaster? Someone has just all of a sudden developed a crush on me using “ae” before my domain name? and “gs”? Really? Oh, silly me.
2. When the fuck did I originally design this page if I just used “indigo” as a BGCOLOR instead’o a sexi-hexi decimal number?
3. Am I going to be sick tomorrow? I guess I am, right?
4. One of them had better have been sober-driving it home, or I will be SO mad.
4. I’m sure you knwo me well enough by now to click as to why i haven’t written in ages, if I haven’t written in ages.
5. Bo+Clay+Me flatdinners kick some ass.
6. I don’t think I’ll go to quiznight anymore – I think that ship has sailed. Plus, I have a supershort attention span, and oh yeah, I dunno. Some rant about pointless semi-rockstar semi-crushes etc etc. He’s still real cute though.
7. Clay and I, staggerign up the street, punchdrunk on $50′o liquor with just KateM and Nigel, and he stops to look at some guy, and I figure he’s just angling for a fight cos I thought the other guy bumped him, and I’m like all, oh no, BUT! BUT! It was goddam LEYTON. You know, the first flatmate that I ever kicked out, cos he wasn’t a team player and I wanted Brad to move in.
8. Brad McCormick, calling me on my cellie from work in Whakacarnie after I txted him going “OH MY GOD THE DRAMA” cos he knew I was talking H&A (I love our psychic bond) and he wanted a full description. Oh Kirsty and Kane, when will you find happiness together?
9. I really want to smoke pot with you RIGHT NOW, even if it means that you don’t end up talking at all after that.
10. Should I try and hold out for 32 points?
11. I had a big talk with Joseph today, and feel much better about my PR Practice paper now, even if we probably did quite badly in our report (oh, sorry Haley, I should email you, but to be perfectly honest, I’m more than a little squiffy right now, and I do have semi-proposal type things to write and send you, and then I’ll email you. Oh, that’s not like a “will you marry me?” thing, just in case the audience as a whole didn’t get thta).
12. I’m still loving my haircut and the other Hayley (with two y’s, not one) by default as well.
13. Who was teh fucking mongrel that listed me on crushmaster in the first place? No one has crushes on me. At best, you’d like to put your penis in me for a little while, in one way or another, or just engage me in witty conversation. I know the score, chief.
14. Welly and some valuable chillout alone time tomorrow, yay!

Wednesday September 12th, 2002

And I can’t remember where we are, but hey, i kinda know her, so my parting words whispered in her ears are “great shorterm, no longterm” cos he’s a friend’o a friend’s, and it’s just too complicated, and blah blah blah alll that bullshit, you wanna backtrack?

So we track it back to class, or to plenary meetings and joseph saying “yeah she’s stroppy, come talk to me” and then we fasttrack through a work afternoon til I leave a little early and go home, and roll up my suit skirt til it ends above my knee, and I go like that in my high heeled boots. In the next two hours I manage six glasses or so of wine, but yet the only significant people I talk to are froom the North Shore City Council that I used to work for, and also, one of my friend’s fathers, who owns one of the most important PR agencies in town. Of course, the last time I saw him was at her wedding when a guy with an English accent was shoving his tongue down my throat til I made him take me outside so I dunno what that does for my cred.

Anywyas, afterwards, somehow we end up at Lauren’s and there was lots’o liquor left after our party, adn I’m composing texts to send to Haley in my head about certain issues (boys boys boys) and oh you know, drinking more. I discoverd that Renee too is also into dnb hphp, and that’s fucking choice, so we is gonna go out sometime. And there were people spilling their red wine on the carpet so I tried to help them clean it up, flushing out the stains, but then I fell backwards into a pot plant, spilling pebbles everywhere, and fuck the guitly conciounse FUCK I AM TOO DRUNK TO EVEN SPELL kicks in, and while we have the vacuum cleaner out, and David’s helping me and continuously patting me reassuringly on the shoulder Is tiil feel bad.

Eventually we all get encouraged tomove on, so I’m at teh Safari Lounge for ages, and KateB’s ex flattie is there, so I’m all blah blah blah and there’s more drinking and stuff but I’m so barely concious and so I take a taxi home and fuck I wish there was someone to cook for me. 5tomorrow there is work all day, then haircuts and parties amnd cleavage and probably at least two people I’ve slept with, soi that’ll be fun! but at least I’ll look sexyh

xojo – oh and did you order my zine?

Tuesday September 11th, 2002

Grr students and interviews and mentors and work and grr and grr and grr. GRRRR! Grrr $218.42 to get the phone reconnected. Grrrr going to work where Terri was also having a bad day. GRRR at ANZ. Grrrr at the HR lady calling me Love and then saying that no, they still hadn’t made up their minds. Grrrr at the memory of the dead mice in the cupboard. Grrr at dynamics that just don’t work. Grrr at the mean receptionist at my doctor’s who told me that Dr. White refused me a new prescription but didn’t say why (yeah, like I can afford $50 for another consultation right now – if my blood pressure is raised, it’s her fault!). Grrr at thousands of clippings to do, adn then GRRRR at problems with avmed stuff. Grrrr at getting rained on the way home. Grrr at Clay being sprawled out on the couch watching some stupid movie when I just wanted to be alone. Grrr at hearing Kara while i was hiding out in my room, rereading the Blind Assassin for the trillionth time. <!– homage mode: He follows her into the empty room, concrete floor bare except for the mattress, piled with messy sheets and pillows.  When she sits on the windowsill, he pushes her against the glass and kisses her intensely, until they move to the mattress. When her moans that she had never heard before have subsided, he tells her his tragedies, and she kisses him every time words fail her. You intrigue me he says, I feel like you’re holding me at a distance.  And she can see his eyes casting around her room, trying to find some clue to her, but there’s nothing, nothing but her Blind Assassin poster on the back of her door.  What’s that about, he asks, pulling her in tightly to his chest.  It’s about lovers who lie in bed telling each other stories, she laughs.) –>

But they went out, and I drifted in and out of conciousness as I have been doing a lot lately, and then I got up to eat spinach soup and watch Buffy. KateM came over half way through it, and asked a lot of questions, but she’s allowed to cos she’s cool. Oh, and I finally got my invitation to Justin’s party, so I can put that slab’o paranoia aside. After KateM left, I ran around my room trying on various clothing combinations. Fuck I need a needle and thread. The slit at the back’o my black dress has split basically almost up to my slit, so I won’t be wearing that tomorrow (eww, did I just use the word “slit” instead of “vagina” or even “panties”? Dirty). Tomorrow is, of course, our industry evening where we all try to impress PR bigwigs and get jobs. I debated wearing my cleavage top, but it doesn’t cover the hole in my bright pink skirt which I really wanna wear, so I think I will stick with my stretchy black skirt, providing it dries in time, damn excess soap powder, and my boots, of course. I figure standing at least 6’1 is one way to make an impression.

Oh, and what with today being you know, THAT anniversary, kinda, except a day ahead, it also means that today it’s also a year since I started taking the everlovely fluox. Of course, I stopped in umm February I think, but I still think it was like an important anniversary for me, cos that was such a fucking hard thing for me to do, and it of course kicked off my whole “why can’t I feel anything? maybe I should have another drink or some more cock” phase. Fun times. And I lost someone I cared about. And etc. Oh inncidently, I think I still have about a month’s worth of fluox, which I’ll trade anyone for a month of estelle35, or some more straight codeiene. I also have voltarin and brufen and maxolon, in case you too have excessive nausea. I like my pill drawer, although most of the pills in it don’t do anything, but some of them, like the brufen and the fluox are pretty colours, and it makes me feel like I’m some late sixties housewife.

Monday September 9th, 2002

I got heat stroke today, which is pretty fucked for early spring. And when I say heatstroke, I mean a sun-induced headache that has withstood drinking lots of water, sponging myself off, naps, beer, nurofen and coffee. So that kinda sucks.

This morning I went to the chemist in Mt Eden to try and get a 3 month repeat on my Estelle35, but they noticed that the repeat expired on the 7th, and said I could have it but the government wouldn’t pay for it, which would have made it $25.95 instead of $3 (incidentally, the only good thing that Jenny Shipley EVER did was subsidise the pill), so I figured I may as well go back to the doctor for a subscription cos that’ll cost $20 but hopefully they’ll give me a 6 month script. The chemist was like “well, you had an extra month written in to the prescription in which to pick it up” but of course, I got a month’s free Diane35 (there is something SO insidious about drug companies giving away free pills) so I’d actually been on it for 4 months, hence why I missed picking it up on time. Because you care. So anyways, that annoyed me.

And then I went in to tech to do an interview, and it wasn’t all that fabulous, so I’m dubious, but hey, and I sat around til one waiting to see if I had another interview to do, but I didn’t, so I went home and decided to go shopping. Bo was like “oh, I’ll come with you and get some shoes” but I was like “nah, I’m just going to the ‘burbs” cos I was all grumpylike, and wanted some alone time. So I got a new top, which is the lowest cut top that I have ever owned. I’m pretty excited.

although I’m guessing at least 60% of my readers have seen everything anyway

And then since I was driving home through Greenlane (past Garland Road and I went “awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww”) I got to shop at Vege World as well, so that’s good cos their produce is much fresher and less smelly than Silverbell. Incidently, does anyone know a good cheap fresh vege place nearer the city?

This evening I put on my top to show Bo, and Clay came in the room and wasn’t really looking at me and was just talking away, and then he looked over and he was like “oh hello!” and kept perving for ages after that. I asked if it was too much, and he said no, so that’s cool. We all went out for coffee, and Bo made me drive down the evil street off City Road in neutral. It was fun. Then we decided to go to Mezze, so we could sit on their lovely lovely deck with the candles and faerie lights, even though we’d originally intended to go to Ponsonby. I like hanging out with my flatmates.

Back at home, Bo and I sat around untangling a big ball’o jewellery of mine that I’d fished out of my drawer tryign to find a suitably dangly necklace to go with this top. I started to watch Lolita, but 1. I didn’t like the book and 2. I fucking hate Kubrick movies, so I decided to go to bed instead. I’m still debating whether or not to wear this top to a PR function. According to Maz, they’re just big pervefests where Joseph lines up the pretty blonde girls to greet the lecherous fifty year old men he invites, but then again, this year might be different, since it’s being organised by students. Hmm. We’ll see.

Sunday September 8th, 2002

So my favourite new game to play on Sundays is to find a friend whom you know was more than a little drunk at a big social function and text them to say that there’s a photo of them snogging on the back on the Sunday Star Times. Muhahaha. Sorry.

This morning I had brunch with KateH at BoxHouse. It was choice! We gossiped lots, as per usual, and I replayed for her all the conversations that we’d had on Friday Night that she didn’t remember. The service was lovely and the food was excellent, and so it made for a very enjoyable time all around. But eventually I had to drag myself home. Haley came over in the afternoon, and we actually got a lot of work done – well, we drafted our first press release, and tried to organise other things, and freaked out about how much work we have to do. I’m so craving a time machine that can zap us to the afternoon of November 21st when I have finished my exams and we have handed in our final report and all we have to do is worry about how to wear our hair to the actual show. Not that I’m shallow or anything, oh no.

But of course, no time spent working on our assignment is without at least twice the amount of time gossiping. Haley’s like “Wow, I learn something new about you every Sunday”. Today was intimate details of my sex life, poor girl, oh, and also that I have a website. Hi Haley! Now get back to work.

This evening I did nothing at all. Oh, that’s not strictly true – I talked to KateM on the phone which was super choice cos I hadn’t talked to her in a zillion years. She says the reason that people love me is for my paranoia. I think she’s been smoking crack overseas. Then I watched Buffy and then The A’Team. And now I’ve done the reporting in to our mentor/client, like the good girl I am, and am trying to arrange my day for tomorrow. I can’t remember if I have one interview or two tomorrow. Uh oh. I think it’s just one, and then I have two on Tuesday – hopefully. I guess right now I really should try and plan out some interviewing questions. Dammit, I’m supposed to be in PR, not Journalism! Oh wait, that’s right – us PR people fulfill ALL the media functions while you others are just lazy. Call us the dark arts, will you?

Also tomorrow, I must send out zines. Have I plugged that enough? When you write to me to ask me for one, if you’re especially polite, I may even send out one of my last remaining copies of The Garland Gang cd. I wonder if I still have a page about that. Hmmm, apparently I don’t. Oh well.

And I’ve been stupid, and have been reading your old letters, and I wonder if you’re still out there watching, or what. And did I do something wrong, and is that MY editor’s tread I hear approaching? And just finally, no one calls me verbacious any more. And that sucks.

I did write up how I’m going to Welly, yeah? Yeah I think I did. Which means I’ll have to rearrange my work days to fit that in, and coupled with the fact that I’m interviewing fashion students left right and centre, I’m pretty fucking busy eh. Also tomorrow I must go to the chemist in Mt Eden and plead with them to fill my pill repeat for me even though it was supposed to have expired on the 7th of September – I so don’t wanna have to pay $20 for another prescription. I’m not entirely sure how beneficial it’s been to me – I still have pimples, and I’m still hairy, but maybe less so. And who knows what’s going on in my ovaries. Oh, that
reminds me of amusing critics:

landscribe says: uhm.. i have issues with how your expenditure and income match up.. you eat out lots
Joanna McLeod says: well
Joanna McLeod says: I have an allowance
landscribe says: and you live in auckland.
Joanna McLeod says: plus I work 15 hours a week
Joanna McLeod says: plus I’m good at eating cheaply
Joanna McLeod says: you too can have a lifestyle like me!
landscribe says: i dont have ovary and pill issues.. nor do i like dry martinis… i can only *aspire*

Oh you get my point. Shut up.

Friday September 6th, 2002

Last night, I went as KateH’s +1 to Salmonella Dub at the Saint James, but we were both pretty drunk before we met up, and then she said she could get me drinks on receipt, so I was like, well sure, so we just ended up sitting in the booths upstairs gossiping/yelling _with_ each other, not at each other, cos she’d had a bad day, and I had conspiracy theories running around in my head, and oh god, I just wanna say (and you know I sorted this out with you Katie, so this is not a diss) how can you people not be able to tell the difference between “so I met this guy last night and he was totally amazing and I felt really close to him and I so want to see him again” and “I shagged a boy last night – he was really nice but we had no connection”? Maybe my communication skills aren’t as good as I’d like to think that they are. I know y’all have my best interests at heart though and I love you for it. Too defensive my fucking ass.

Anyways, so we didn’t even see Salmonella Dub, though we heard them, and then KateH went to the B-Net afterparty, and I managed to blag my way in cos I wanted to spend more time with her. I have to say, the so called “cool” people of this world are actually really fucking boring. Then I went home and lay on the floor in the lounge for hours and hours watching Nine Inch Nails videos and then talking on the phone til almost 5am.

Today I got woken up by Penny calling at 10.30am, and so she came round around 1pm and we caught up on the St Pats Boys gossip from the CarnageMatakana party. Then Anji rang me with hot exciting gossip. Now I am going to have a shower and take my green folder and go to bed.

BUT! The purpose of this journal really is to let you know that I have finished my zine, “BOYS BOYS BOYS BOYS BOYS” and I would like to trade it with you. Zines, yes, how retro 1993. Go to this page for more information, and yeah, that’ll be cool. Thank you!

Dammit, some slapper has just stolen my bathroom. Must go sort this out!

Thursday September 5th, 2002

I’ve had whispers of conspiracy theories going on in my head, which really serve just to demonstrate what a paranoid paranoid paranoid girl I am. Nevermind.

Hmmm, what have I been up to lately? Working yesterday afternoon, but Terri was out sick, and Bridget’s away for a month (dammit, I nearly called them by their real names) and I didn’t have very much to do and I couldn’t move further without help from Terri, so I did do some more work on my zine. It’s nine pages long now, but I figure I have to make it at least 16 to make it worthwhile doing, and I’m finding that really, there’s not all that much more I can write. I’ve already outsmutted myself, I think (oh, for those of you who’ve just tuned in, my zine is called “BOYS BOYS BOYS BOYS BOYS”). Still haven’t found out if I got the job yet or not. It’s stressing me out more than just a little bit.

I was naughty and wagged my HR Tut this morning, but luckily it turned out that it was canceled anyway. Joseph was more than usually disturbing in our PR Practice tut, so Haley and I ever-so-grownuply wrote notes to one another, mostly about DiscoDan and I think I caught her up on my conspiracy theories and she just laughed at me. She also wrote me a note saying that I should tell Clayton she thinks he’s hot and that he should give her a call if he ever breaks up with Kara. I laughed. Oh, I’ll interrupt me with this side story here – Clay is a little grumpy with me tonight, cos he was telling me a story about this guy who tried to pick him up on the bus, who kept quizzign him about his background and what school he went to and stuff, and so when Clay told him, they tried to compare names of people they knew from there but they had no one in common, so Clay went “oh, but I know (umm forget his name) from Queer Nation”, so in the retelling of it I was like “oh of course Clay – all gay people know each other and they all watch Queer Nation” and so he’s shirty with me for accusing him of stereotyping, but oh well. Typical self loathing!

Anyways. Where were we? Oh yeah. So after our very long plenary meeting, Haley and I went to the Playhouse cos we thought we mighta been meeting the fashion students for an interview, but we weren’t sure cos Haley had sent out the email and not checked it recently (grr!) but they didn’t show, as I kinda expected, so we just had a drink and did much gossiping instead. Then I went home and phoned Momma, and booked plane tickets to Wellington. Yes, I’m going back there, even after declaring loudly many times to many people that I never ever wanted to again. Here’s why:

1. Ayna had invited me to her birthday party on the 18th of September.
2. We’re having a PR social down there to meet and greet (and apparently get leered at) by prospective employers.
3. Mummy and Daddy are going away for a week on the 19th, so I will get the house to myself, plus since I’m flying down on the 18th, I will get to see them for a day,which is probably all I can handle of them.
4. Karen and Anji and my KatieB and my FattySi are all down there and I miss them all and wanna hang out with them big lots.

So now I just have to get the time off work, or rearrange my days somehow. Luckily I do have a day in lieu up my sleeve.

This evening James picked me up and I went to see the team named “Stupid Horse” play indoor netball. It was fun! And it made meeee wanna play, although I haven’t since the glory days’o Standard 4. I have no doubt that I would suck at it – a lot. But still. Oh and Kate – I didn’t say this tonight, in fact I didn’t even think of it, but then I was watching Juice, so guess what? TEHEHEHEHEHEHEHHE. Love you baby.

Bo is still staying at her aunt’s, babysitting her cousin, so I rang her earlier today cos lord knows I can’t go three days without her ray of sunshine in my life. I’m so glad she moved in. Speaking of people that I like, have I said lately that I miss you? And I miss you. And you.

I have been having major crazy dreams lately – last night’s involved the cast of Home and Away, and a supervillan who was placing poisonous evil nasty creatures everywhere. It was fucked up. And oooh, I also dreamt about Amy and Andeee, so I really must give them a call sometime. I have a lot of catching up to do, I’m really quite slack huh?

Tuesday September 3rd, 2002

Yesterday I came home grumpy from work and ended up sitting in my room for an hour cos I didn’t even feel like talking to Bopha, and then it turned out that she’d been feeling semi the same way, not because of anything personal or anything, but just a general bad mood. But then that passed, and we went to the supermarket together, for grocceries and liquor. Then we played Scrabble. I kicked her ass at the first game, and then Clay came home and won the second, even after they allowed me to use the word “cockzone”. It was choice, and Bo drank a whole bottle of wine which is the drunkest I’ve ever seen her, and we gossiped and wrote in the bible lots afterwards.

Today after my HR lecture, it was horrible and rainy and I had a two hour gap, so I decided to go to the movies. After much deliberation, I decided to go see ‘Signs’. Now, you know how staunch and tough and how movies don’t generally scare me at all, they just make me laugh? Well, I was really tempted to leave half way through, I was so scared. And of course, i’m fucked up in that I love being terrified, so I had a bigass grin on my face the whole time, I’m sure. Just as well I went by myself. And then of course, I was an hour late to Corporate Communication so people were mean to me.

This afternoon I discovered that a guy from ASIJ found my name on classmates.com and emailed me to see what I was up to. Now, that is well and truly bizzare, cos I don’t think we ever had a conversation, but this is the email I sent him back:
Yes, I remember you – presuming I’m thinking of the right person – you won a whole box of chocolate bars in the mega prize raffle thingie that Mr Gibson’s advisory did, and then distributed them out to our math class in an act of real generosity? I could go and dig out my yearbook to see if I’m right, but they’re probably in the attic at my parents’ house and that’s in a whole other city, and besides, sifting through ASIJ yearbooks is really NOT one of my favourite things to do, strangely enough.

But anyways, it’s rather bizzare to hear from you, but cool all the same. The only people I’ve kept any form of contact with from ASIJ are Melissa Chaiken and Beth Dodd.

These days I am completing a Graduate Diploma in Public Relations to follow my Bachelor of Communication Studies at Auckland University of Technology, in New Zealand. I enjoy it a lot. I’m also working half time doing PR for the medical school here, which is super. I still have fond memories of grunge music, and I still have long hair, but other than that, I think I’m probably (hopefully) completely different to who I was at ASIJ.

What about you?

Thanks for your email, and take care yourself

Around 5.15ish whilst I was watching H&A (note to self: email catchup details to Brad – why are all of my friends all on holiday at the same time?) Jezza rang to tell me that I had to go to Quiz Night cos he’d found us a Sports Expert, since that’s always our weakest area. So of course, I headed down there, after a SUPER amusing phone conversation with KateH (Tehehehehehehehehehehe!) although of course I am madjealous that she got to meet Kelly from HJT. Anyways, so there wasn’t actually anyone else in the bar besides our team, and a couple of other people who left, and one random other guy, so the bar staff decided that they didn’t want to put up bartabs as prizes, and therefore effectively, the quiz was canceled. However! The wonderful Quizmaster (I do actually know his name now, but “Quizmaster” is such a much better title) suggested that we all compete against ourselves as individuals, and everyone put $2 for the prize pool. I won $12, proving once and for all what a geek I am, since I beat everyone by like 11 points and that included scoring 0 in the sports round. But still, it was really cool.

And tomorrow I get to sleep in! Although perhaps I should get up earlish and either go to The SilverBell for veges or finally go and get my work ID, just in case things get all nasty and stuff with this job that I’ve gone for. Bridget would have left for America for 4 weeks by now, but apparently they’re going to make their final decision via a conference call.