Friday was the Day of Bangs. It was also kinda rainy. New World hadn’t had any sparklers in stock all week. That made me sad. Not so sad as to be prevented from making my own roast garlic hummus, however, so at least I had something to feed Brad when he came a’calling after his school finished. We watched Shorters and I faffed my way through half of the Aussie Idol results, yelling at Anthony and Hayley for being so plastic and Marcia for being such a crackwhore. I got quite worked up, and my grumbling continued for quite a while.
Eventually I’d faffed my way into some going out clothes with the twins out and we headed out the door down to the supermarket, but Sebby was following me and following me and I really didn’t want him to get onto the main road of Newtown, and I knew he was acting strangely cos of the fireworks, so I took him back to the house and met Brad at the bus-stop later. It took fucking ages for the bus to Kelburn to show up, but while we were waiting we got to watch the big explosions over the harbour (yes, despite the fact that Newtown is flat on the ground). So that was vaguely entertaining, but neither of us are that fussed about the boom boom boom. I am so over the number 22 bus, and I’m worried that I will have to catch it every day when they stop the 18 (campus connector) over the summer. The 22/23 goes to Courtenay Place and then down Willis, Lambton Quay and then up the Terrace before it gets to Kelburn and it takes forever. I probably could walk faster, except ha ha, yeah right. The bus on Friday night was steamy with the rain and the many people on it from watching the bang bangs. I asked Brad if it was okay if Jess’s party was teh suck that we could go and fire bottlerockets (which of course are banned and I don’t have any of) at my office windows cos with all the magazines and boxes piled up in the main bit, this place would burn real pretty and easy. He said that was fine.
But Jess’s party wasn’t at all teh suck, far from it. Initially I felt kind of old, cos it was a uni party after all, but I just drank some more and that went away. PLUS! When we were first standing in the kitchen part of our tour, in there walked a PANDA BEAR. You know a party’s going to be a good party when there’s people in animal costumes. I decided then and there that I would be hugging that panda before I left. In fact, Brad and I discussed slipping it a rophy, but since I didn’t have my date-rape hat on (but I always could accessorize…) we were unable to do that. Instead we talked to Jess’s lovely flatmate and also a bunch of other people. Some people didn’t have very much of a sense of humour but that’s okay because I managed to sho them away eventually I think. At one stage I was sitting on a couch in the window when I turned around and for some reason locked eyes with a cute boy outside the window, and then we proceeded to have a long conversation, although I couldn’t hear a word he was saying. Things I may have said include: “I can’t hear you” “what?” “You’re very very cute”, “the world is trying to keep us apart” and possibly “I think we’re soulmates”. I was definately giggling and blushing like a smitten kitten schoolgirl. I realised he was drinking Hollandia, and since that was Brad’s beer’o the night, I realised I had a way to prove our soulmatedness to him, so I rushed off to the kitchen to get one of Brad’s beers, but they were all gone, and when I got back to the window so was the boy. His friend told me later that the boy’s name was Fritz (dumb!) and that he could hear everything i said (duh, silly me not thinking about sound-type-physics of being inside with the stereo vs outside without it). Brad then came to the conclusion that it was Fritz who stole his beer. My heart was broken, until I was given a vanilla vodka and cranberry (tastes like boysenberry icecream!) and a girl who will remain nameless showed me her nipples, after Fritz’s annoying friend showed us his. I covered Brad’s eyes and showed the nameless girl mine. The panda looked on in shock. Then there was some dancing and some laughing and much funness and a tiny grope (not of the panda, although I did get my hug – possibly several) and then Brad wanted to go home so I figured I’d save money on cabfare and go too.
The next day, which, strangely enough was a Saturday, I woke up and thought I’d go for brunch and funshopping before going to Katy’s for her goodbye BBQ. I made a big mistake and went to Bar Edward for brunch, because I thought “hey, what could be wrong with $5 waffles?” Well, once I finally got to order them from the bar people who were arguing with each other rather bitterly, and asked for a latte and water and had to wait for another person to come out and figure out the really hard maths of 5 + 3 = 8, and then discover that my choice of reading material was AA Directions or the free local paper, and then get served cold soggy waffles with a splot of yoghurt and golden syrup on them and two slices of kiwifruit, and no sign of my latte or water until I asked twenty minutes later and then the latte was overheated and just yuck, well, nothing really.
Around 4pm I managed to drag my ass into town and up the horrible hill to Katy’s for the last time. Everyone was sitting in the back, so on nasty yucky concrete with weeds and thistles everywhere cos that’s where the bbq was. I felt really uncomfortable physically, and slightly socially awkward, although there were a couple of people there who I thought I was quite close to a couple of years ago (but then I stopped taking e). The boy who I used to have a huge huge jones for was there, and I noticed that he laughs like Iva’s ex, and that’s so not hot. But still, it was fun and I had a piece of the best steak ever. Maybe it was so good cos I ate it with my hands and put blue cheese on it. Who knows? I went home around 8ish, to take a nap and get changed with the intention of going to a party with Katy and then to the closing down of Studio 9, complete with LIGHT UP DANCE FLOOR, but then I got very sick and crapped til I bled. Yum! Who needs anal sex when you can just have the hot beef injection instead? Not me! So yeah, I stayed home instead, and chuckled at all the parts of Hot Shots Part Deux that seem to have become so much more relevant lately. And on that topic – man, we had motherfucking EMINEM on our side – how the hell did we lose?
Yesterday being Sunday, I did laundry and went to town to buy some new shoes but #1 Shoe Warehouse isn’t in Cuba Mall anymore so I didn’t. I did have a fuckoff big breakfast at the Krazy Lounge though – garlic mushrooms on french bread, hashbrowns and bacon – with Karen, and I bought some more body butter from the Bodyshop, this time in coconut cos I’ve just finished my papaya. Yeah interesting, rock on. Then I locked myself in my room cos i was overtaken with an attack of the GRRRR I HATE YOUs towards my flatmates for no reason at all except that I wanted to watch X-2 on Sky and they didn’t. I don’t actually hate my flatmates, I’m just in serious need of a bleed cos I’m feeling kind of dead and hating of everything. I am in love with Pretty Girls Make Graves right now. My new playlist is called “Are you sure you’re still alive?” – it’s loud and fast and very very rocky and contains the line that I am trying to use effectively today: “AND NOTHING ELSE MATTERS WHEN THEY TURN IT UP LOUD”