Hubris.co.nz

Tomorrow I am interviewing Pluto. !. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!. Let’s hope I don’t drown in my own panty moistness. Also, I took these two photos of MeegEh who is leaving me on Saturday (dude, that’s Megan, but she’s from Canadia, hence the nickname) and Bo at work:

Stuff is mostly good – I am currently drunk with Nikki again, just for a change, and we’ve found a guy to move into MeegEh’s room – his name is Lance – and we have soem decent sounding prospects for Jonny’s room, adn thank fucking god he’s moving in with Ting.

Work is funnish, I have bene taking lots of photos lately, and assigning things to monkeys, and yeah. Ummm what else? School Gala party on March 8th, and if you’re unhappy with m2 beign taken off the air, you can call Mr Glen Sowry, Head of Public Affairs at TVNZ- 09 916 7565 / 021 461 775 to complain. But he hasn’t texted me back. How rude.

Would you stop smoking those goddam cancer sticks and come and hang out with me? Sheesh.

<I>Or:
“Fetch me my mother
Fetch me my brother
Tell them I’ve fucked up” </I>

Last night I told my parents that Katy couldn’t go flatting for another month, and then I broke down and cried some more because my plane didn’t crash when it was landing (so no being stuck on an island with Ian Sommeholder and the hobbit and the bad guy for me either), and hey, unemployed and living with my parents – wasn’t I doing exactly that this time last year? And therefore I haven’t achieved anything at all in the last year except come off the pills that made it easier to to not care, and stop the fucking that meant I could switch off my brain for at least an hour a time. Contextulize it like that and it’s still nothing. I don’t win awards at my job that I love, I can’t wear heels and little black dresses out at night, I’m not married, I’m not buying a second house, I don’t run my own drama school, I don’t edit a magazine, I’m not planning on getting engaged next year or travelling to Africa to doctor people there, or producing my own TV shows, or finding fulfillment in teaching Intermediate Schools, I’m not off on my OE or freshly back from one, and I’m not revinventing myself at Drama School, I’m just nothing, so that feeling of isolation-in-a-crowded-room never dies. In trying to cheer me up Mum was like “Yeah but they’re probably not happy either,” which isn’t a cheer-up thing at all because I’d like to think and hope that my friends ARE happy and if they weren’t that they’d tell me.

However, here are three amusing things that people said to me over the course of the weekend:
<LI>”I still have that filthy erotic letter you wrote me”
<LI>”I didn’t like you because you were pushy”
<LI>”That’s what I love about you Jo, you’re always dancing”

And here is the day by day breakdown: breakfast with Gemma at Fraser’s – the potato cakes are gluggy, the avocado hard and the sauce cold but the coffee is strong and the company is good / coffee with kate, the sun is hot and so is the company / haircut at Hayley’s, the company is great and the curling initially dubious / jeep ride and then lunch with my best client, the conversation is lively and the scandals & intrigues amusing although the time is limited and there’s only one glass of wine / checking into the motel is okay, the air conditioning is appreciated, other people in the pool are not, but the nap is soothing although when combind with the swimming (even though I kept my head up) the effects on my curled hair is devestating / dinner at Tanuki’s Cave with Heather and Chelsea is good, although the eggplant was quivering with benito and I felt out of place drinking beer / Bugs Bunny on Broadway with Kate was free, and made me appreciate the orchestrations of the music more, although I never really liked Loony Tunes / The afterparty launch of AKO5 or whatever it was that we were at was easy to get into (“Were you invited?” “Yes” “Do you have tickets?” “not with us” – true story but) and the wine was freeflowing for a couple of hours and the canapes great, the society page photographer was cute (and after hearing me complain for a while about a certain newspaper in Auckland laughed when telling me he worked for their Sunday branch), the dignitaries suitably bodyguarded and the speeches boring, and Kate was quick to catch on to the made up friend game. / The bubbly at Starks came in bottles and the same bartender I’ve had a bartender crush on for the past four years or so was still there and when I asked him about that he said “no I work here on and off, I just happen to always be here when you come in” or something like that, and Kate kept going on about how much she didn’t like him the next day so maybe he was being an arrogant dick but hey when haven’t I found that attractive, and we drank some more and got talking to the partner of the guarded dignitary and discovered it was just a training procedure and he therefore wasn’t actually rich enough to buy us our own magazine and sometime around 3am we stumbled in to bed at the hotel and the first series of Australian Idol was on tv /

I spoke too soon about how nice it was to not have anyone extra staying. The German girls are back tonight, they just waltzed in and dumped their stuff – “we’re back”. I think I’m going to have to have a word to Ammy about it, because no one here can actually afford to subsidise their living costs. And I just want some peace!

Actually, I’m a little richer that I expected to be, because my darling frined Nikki ran my number through the IRD and I get $350 back in tax. Then on Saturday, despite that we were both hungover, she took me to the battery shop and fitted a new battery in my rusty old engine, and checked my oil (there was none) and my water, and asked me if I could change a tyre. I can. Just whip out your cellphone and call 0800 500 222. Duh.

Anyways, Friday night was dinner with KateH and Nikki here, and some copious amounts of beer consumption, before going to Steven’s apartment for more drinking. Steven lives in the same building that nigel used to live in, so there were far too many memories for me of crying in stairwells. Oh well. Steven’s friends were rather amusing, and Nikki (and to a lesser degree I) had arguments with the boys about whether or not Pearl Jam should have broken up a long time ago (yes). There was a suicide girls sticker in the bathroom, and three spacies machines in the lounge. There was also a boy there with Frodo eyes, so that was very cute. Eventually Nikki and I went home to drink more beer and hide in my bedroom from Jonny. Later I had to get up to go to Megan’s bed where Nikki was sleeping cos she came-a-knocking on my bedroom door demanding that I go and tell her stories til she fell asleep. I cheated and receited Douglas Coupland.

Then yesterday, being Saturday, there was the assorted car battery madness (it goes now! how exciting!) and much laying around doing nothing at all. In the evening, Allison showed up, which was lovely, and Ammy made us lovely food, and her and me and Bo and Allison all went to the biggass party at Milton Road that the Kids were playing at (Okay, so they’re actually called The Midnights now, officially apparently, so I must stick to that). There were many many many people there, so many that I couldn’t even watch the kids play, cos the lounge was too packed and it freaked me out. At other parties I’ve been to with the rogues, conversations came super easily to me and I was all outgoing and friendly and hot chicks were scored, but it wasn’t like that last night. Maybe I was a little introverted, I dunno. I did have a very interesting long talk with this guy who works for an organisation that’s kinda parellel to mine, and he was cool, but then there was the whole conversation finished “i’m going to go and check out the rest of the party” thing. I found Bo sitting with a bunch’o the kids on the back of a truck, but it was too cold, and they were all smoking up, which you may reemember I can’t do, so I decided to go home. It was about a twenty minute walk, and only one car offered me a ride. I rejected it, strangely enough. Anyways, so I was very very cold and lonely, but I got home and Seb came running out,so there were many many snuggles and a gorgeous warm bed, and that was fabo.

This morning (well, actually it was this afternoon), Ammy and I went to St Lukes and did a ridiculous amount of running around, and I bought a Sony video player. Yay! I owe her the money though, cos my bond refund and IRD refunds haven’t come through yet. We also got picnicy foods, and eventually headed on over to Potter’s Park, which is just a smidgen up the road, for the peace concert. We got a spot in the shade and spread out blankets and mats and had a lovely afternoon of it, even though whoever was m’cing was a dick. After that, there was more struggling with the video before I managed to get the tv tuned to it, and so now it’s all good.

Tomorrow Bo and Leo are working for me handing out shit. I’m so excited. I’m also super excited that our plans for the School Fair themed b’day party for Megan have developed, and so now along with a kissing booth and a gypsy and pony rides, we’re also going to have a second hand clothing swap meet. This party will be fabo. I hope. I was supposed to clean the bathroom tonight but I might just go to bed instead. xojo.

What was that I was saying about a user interface? I was lying. Look at it this way – extreme minimalism is the new postmodernism.

So it’s been about a week or so, and during this time period, I have been drunk too often, at Quiz Night where I just about fell flat on my face walking out because of bad chair/carpet configurations and trying too hard to make a good impression, and then the next night with Nikki, bawling my eyes out on her shoulder which was good and cleansing, except that I hate that it makes me cry when she said that people love me too much to want to hurt me, as an explanation of how I was left out of the loop of major Dramas within my circle, and i HATE how I couldn’t have been there for anyone because I didn’t know, and I hate that people see me as being that being that much of an emotional screwball, and I know that they don’t really, and I guess I’m totally glad I never had to choose sides, but still, ugh, I hate that people I love so much had so much bad shit going on.

<!– And I hate that she whimpers in her sleep –>and I hate that I can’t fix the world, and I hate that I’m going to have to take steps to fix the parts of me that I’m utterly terrified of.

On up notes, I love that I bought a TV. And I love that when I was planning on staying at home on saturday night by myself drinking champagne alone and feeling morose by myself (how dare my friends be on holiday in welly, or living in other cities for their jobs or stricken with glandular fever or at reggae festivals in Raglan?) Darren rang up and so I had dinner with him and his friends and Jonny, and then we went to see his new studio, and it was cool, although I think I had a drunken slurred argument with him about whether or not Audioslave are shit (yes). And what else is there? Visits from special friends to look forward to, although it totally sets back my whole Taking Affirmative Action plan with someone. These are two letters that I want to write and send but I won’t:

Dear Boy A, Don’t you think that it’s a little strange that I started emailing you out of the blue? No? Good. But you shouldn’t interupt other people and go all excitedly “Oh, I’ve been emailing Jo!” if what you mean is “Oh yeah sometimes I reply and then other times, like when I get a group invitation to hang out with her at her workplace which quite obviously was just a lame set up excuse to get me to get her to have coffee with me, I won’t reply”. Jesus boy. I have excellent taste in music, and I don’t think I was too bad a fuck, and I’ve tracked you down and apologised to you for being a spaz. Take a fucking hint!

Okay, so those letters are crap and not at all eloquent or proper explainy, but they’re what’s rolling around and around in my head. Oh hush, I’ll write whatever I damn well want to write. After all, I am self absorbed. And vulgar.

Maybe tomorrow I will design a userinterface for this, and make Olivia happy. But maybe not. I’ve been really busy at work doing the web site, and also writing all the copy for our first magazine, so I’m a little all keyboarded out.

The hot German girls are staying with us – again. I knew they were coming up cos they stayed with my parents a couple of nights ago, and inadvertently stole their toothpaste. Allison is also still here, and Bo’s definitely staying, so that fucking rocks my world more than I can express here. This morning she and I went to the press preview of “Spirited Away” which is by the same people as “Princess Momonoko” – not that I’ve seen it – and it was amazing, so totally dreamlike. Cheesy happy ending, but I guess that’s a good thing.

I forgot to go to Summer Series, so I missed out on DImmer which sucked, but we listened to it out on the porch under the faerie lights, so that was good enough. What else should I talk about? Hmm. Oh, KateH is going to lend us a single mattress for Megan, so that Ammy can get her bed back, and then therefore give Bo back her bed. And apparently Jonny has been paid so he might buy a bed and we’ll get our pullout couch back – either for the ballroom or the lounge, I haven’t decided yet. We have at least four boxes of empty bottles out waiting on the curb, that’s terrible Muriel. And very shortly, I will mobilise the troops and get us to all sneak our extra rubbish into everyone else’s bins.

I can’t get my bond back from the last flat til Clay comes back from America cos we both have to sign the release form, but then I will buy a TV, hopefully before a certain gentleman arrives in the city, because fucked if I would actually want to CONVERSE with him! And speaking of other Gentlemen, well… last night I was all like, no hope, but I have renewed optimism. God bless you young lady, even if I did call you last night and tell you that i hated you.