Hubris.co.nz

Let’s see if I can write a journal entry in twelve minutes. (Apparently not)

Before I get on with the usual recounting of everything, let me just announce Canadia at the Country Club, 5pm Saturday May 6 – don’t worry, it’s planned so that you can come to this and still go to the Phoenix Foundation gig. We’re going to eat pancakes and maple syrup and bacon (if you’re that way inclined) and fries with cheese, and Chocolate Mooooooooooooooousse, and listen to the Arcade Fire and other goodness, and learn facts about Canadia, and end all our sentences with ‘Eh’ and I might plan another few activities, and it’d be rad if you could come.

And now let me get on with Friday night, which saw me leaving work on the dot of five and declining to go out for a drink (holy fucking shit, I know) in favour of going home and doing a mountain of dishes and prepping for my Spanishy potato dish which I’m hereby going to call Papas Garbanzo. Prepping means a mountain of agria potatos cubed and boiled, and cans of chickpeas rinsed and drained, and numerous garlic cloves crushed and roughly chopped and placed in a bowl with diced red onions, and feta crumbled and paired with chopped parsley and a little basil, and spring onions cut into pretty little loops, and chorizo sausages defrosted, diced and fried till crispy and put into yet another bowl. After that there was just time to set the table and get changed before I had to go and pick up Jisa for wacky one-way driving adventures in Brooklyn trying to find Jimmy, and then to Mount Vic for Jessie and Jane. I threw open the invitation to everyone else with a J in my phonebook, but to little avail. Boo-urns. But that’s okay, because we sat in the glowing atmosphere, and drank good red wine, and not so good red wine, and stuffed our faces with the papas garbanzo, and the green beans almondine, and then coconut cream and apple cake with caramelised peaches and raspberry strawberry SORBET (which you must yell like “Ole!”) and Jessie told us rock’n roll stories and we annoyed her with a lot of usage of the phrase “like throwing a sausage down a hallway” and its many variations. It was a geniusly good time.

On Saturday my head hurt, but I had to get up early to gossip to Heather and confirm that it was indeed her who had been drunkenly texting me the night before. Then there were an awful lot of dishes to do. Nevertheless I did them, and napped, and made myself pretty in time to meet the divine KateH, or Popular Kate as you may remember her, for dinner at Arashi. It was so nice to go out just with her – we tried to think of when the last time we’d done that may have been, and the best we could come up with was like, July 2002. We followed that with a drink at Harem, which was wacky crazy cool and I wish we’d eaten dinner there cos the menu looked yum, but as it was, we had to knock our cocktails back quickly in order to make it to Dylan Moran on time. He was genius, wonderful, excellent, angry drunken belligerant hott Irishman. His onstage persona was much like Bernard Black, but a little more articulate. Hott. I laughed lots, and I also laughed a bit because my friends who saw the show in Auckland said that there were many curvy bookish type women in the audience there, and so it was in Wellington. Afterwards we went to Good Luck for a drink, and meant to go to Bodega for the A Low Hum, but the cocktails were just too good and we didn’t want to get up. Eventually though with KateB in tow we decided we wanted food and headed back to Harem which was shut, so we went to Tupelo instead, where stupid boys tired to impress us with their asses, drank from our wine bottle and tried to offend us with videos on a cellphone of a girl who ejaculated semen out of her very hemaroided bottom. It’s probably not the kind of thing you want to see every day, but if you’re introduced to it with the “this is so offensive, this is totally going to offend you” type introduction, there is no way in hell that you’re going to be offended. Except by the guy’s total stupidity. KateB disappeared, and Tupelo shut down, so KateH and I were forced to sit outside in the alleyway with KateB’s coat and bag for LITERALLY half an hour since KateB’s phone was in her bag, and we were not overly impressed by that.

On Sunday I slept in late, and then later I picked up KateH and she came over for dinner, and surprise surprise, she knew people that Bart’s mum knew. And we watched the Garland video, and looked at photos, and read the bible, and oh, how long ago Uni was and how young and full of hope we were all then.

And now Sebby has been missing for 24 hours, and I am worrrrrrrrrrrrrrieeeed. Today I had lunch with Amy and Andeee but they had friends and sisters there and so we didn’t really gossip, and I haven’t seen them since 2004, and it was strange. And no one is upstairs at work today, and I had to log on downstairs in the morning and the boy’s computer that I was using was sticky and eww. And blah blah. I hope Sebby comes home when I get home today after PAYING FOR MY FLIGHTS. Wahoo!

Come to Canadia. What’s that all about eh?

EDIT: He wasn’t there when I got home, even after I called and called him so I went to my room and bawled and bawled, and then I heard him mewling and he came in and I cuddled him and cried some more, and he was like “sheesh, what’s the big idea, it’s only been 30 hours but can I have some extra food please?”

All of todayk, I have been about to collapse over and fall asleep. I didn’t sleep at all last night. Stupid pre-period bright light, lower back pain, stupid brain going tick tick tick. Stupid girl drinking coke at 7pm. Stupid oversensitive-to-caffiene existingness. YEAH! SO this afternoon, I was very very mcuh like “hi, I know we have our weekly production meeting right now, but do you mind if I fall asleep right here and now?”

As it happened, we were actually bidding farewell to a colleague, and they talked in her speech about the air of calm she gave, and since she was one of my project managers, I can totally agree that yes, she was calm-making. And now she’s gone. But at least we had butt-loads of Pandoro goodies to ease the tradition. And we all know that pandoro muffins are so hot right now. Oh I’m sorry, that’s err “da bomb”. I forgot it was 1996. Also, haha Joel, seriously, you’re all crazy and shit – you are planning on the face punch right? Remind me to put those links in when my ISP actually catches up to reality. Did I say my ISP? Oh you all know I’m using my mother’s account. (Edit: see how I blamed my inability to link properly on my ISP, rather than the many glasses of Church Road Sav Blanc? Nice. That’s what my Grad Dip PR Com was for. But I think I’ve put in the right links now…)

It’s funny, cos for five minutes or so, I was like “huh, those ex-workmates of mine that I’m making fun of – what if they make fun of me?” but then I was like “well, what would they say that I wouldn’t agree with?” and then I laughed some more. But on a more serious note, the directors put on some drinks tonight (*) and we were at the Courtenay Arms, which is where VUWSA had its Xmas party last year when I was like “I’m going to be leaving after Orientation, cos I am 10k short of what I should be making”, and now I am 12k up, and working happily, and not having to deal with RANK ARROGANT AMATUERS all the time (and if I spelled that wrong, it was Anji’s fault, cos she spelt it for me,a nd she has like, a degree in literature) and also just, I like almost all my workmates. Where the fuck was I? I can’t remember.

Oh wait, foozeball. I have searched the archives right now, and am curfrenly laughing my guts out about feta jokes that Bo and I made together. Also, WHERE THE FUCK has peppercorn feta gone? I don’t think it exists anymore. And now I spent like half an hour looking for an obscure reference to our first year Peach Pit environment (yes, htat’s Pizza Pizza I’m talking about) or how there happebned to be some boys who had happened to come across half a Nikki Watson poster from Sandringham Road that haapppened to be in our backyard and I was lying on her boobs in the photograph, and wait, what was my point? I totally forget. But I will say hey, remember that time that I had two girl friends,and then there were these three guys that we all hung out with? And remember how the three of us had it all worked out? Yes.

ALSO! FUCK OFF SHORTLAND STREET! Stop having our motherfucking glasses onscreen! It’s bad enough that our three new water glasses are the stripey ones are the same as the ones in the cafe. Tonight Anji pointed out that our gingerbeer cocktail glasses have showed up in Coltrain. FUCKING SUCK IT, YOU QUEERS! (That’s the OC, k? xojo) Because I am a potter’s daughter. I care very much about the vessel things are served to me in, and I feel like you just fucked my daughter’s navel cavity. Hott! But also, unless it’s you making the mule, back the fuck off!

When I said it would be all in one part, I was lying.

Saturday December 4th, continued
Finally I realised that I couldn’t watch Dawson’s forever, and that it was high time I get my shit together and make the journey to The’Tron, via dropping Katie off in town. Of course it started raining then. I’m still not used to driving a car that actually has functioning windscreen wipers (Inco’s scraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaped and scratched) and of course it was that stupid dumb sometimes-sunny bullshit, so I was all confuzzled between glasses and sunglasses, aaaaaaaand (just to bitch a little more) I don’t particularly like the drive to Hamiltron at the best of times, and even less when I’m hungover, but I made it there in one piece. The motel I was staying at, The Airport Motor Inn, was (strangely enough) out at the airport, which is another half hour or so through Hamilton, but luckily it was signposted, cos there are few things I hate more than getting lost in The’Tron (except perhaps getting lost in West Auckland).

My motel room was very beige, as I had hoped. For some reason, I was thinking that the neutrality of it would inspire me to some great writing since I couldn’t have my Doom Generation motel room fantasy. I shattered the peace by bleeding red and purple all over their white towels and also probably got traces on the clean white sheets when I had a nap. I am a deviant. I’d stuck my toe into the outdoor swimming pool and decided against it because while I’m crazy I’m not actually insane. The shower was all needley and great massagey though, which made me happy. I drank many glasses of water trying to rehydrate and then it was time (well, well past time but I stopped to watch the Simpsons) to get my act together and get dressed for Chelsea’s after-wedding. Wedding-esque (not in the long and white and poofy, but in the ‘appropriate attire for a guest’ sense, of course) Dress? Check. Pearls? Check. Cardigan? Check. Pink Lipgloss? Check. Scoddy old silver birkis? Check. Then all I had to do was stand in the motel’s driveway for an eternity waiting for the taxi, but that’s okay cos while I was waiting I got a call from La, who had obviously arrived back from Australia and received the note I’d left at his house threatening to cry if I didn’t have a chance to hang out with him. Excellent. (Wait, again, what tense am I in? Oh who knows anymore.)

The taxi took me out into the countryside dotted with Lifestyle Block type places, and we both cunningly managed to work out that the house was the one with all the cars parked around it and balloons tied to the gate. Given that I hadn’t seen Chelsea since Uni, I was a little nervous. Luckily, I spotted Kyla, and she pointed me towards Elly, who told me to sit down at her table and then as soon as I did, she got up and left. That’s when I went to find a drink. I met all sorts of people who, once they established that I was Jo Hubris and not any of the other Jos, knew all sorts of things about me. Mostly they didn’t even tell me their real names, let alone any kind of web name, so I was left to stick out my hand and say “Hi, I’m Jo,” expecting that usual social convention would compell them to introduce themselves and not reply with a “I know” and keep talking. Pah, feeble social convention, they laugh at usual social convention! Anyways, I sought out Elly and kept her company while she stuffed weiners in herself. Since neither she nor Kyla nor Murray, who had just arrived at this point in my narrative, were drinking, I decided to take it upon myself to drink their share as well. The gorgeous big garden was set up with a series of canopies and pavilion type things, but it was starting to rain so eventually, after I left ridiculously garbled messages on a video for Chelsea (sorry!) we retired inside to watch Richard and Chelsea open their presents. I want to get married! Oh so many presents. Also like, as I did mention in my earlier drunken entry when I got home from the wedding, I’d kind of like to look beautiful and be in love, just like Chelsea. But I’ll settle for appliances. Then there was dancing! Lots and lots of it. In fact, Elly and I got thrown out at the end,because Richard and Chelsea had already left, and I guess Richard’s parents’d had enough of us – which is probably a valid complaint. I had after all been naughty and used the inside toilet, something that made me feel terribly wicked and probably made me have a guiltier face than I did at Dee’s wedding.
Earlier in the night I’d confided in Elly that I’ve been getting exceeding paranoid when I drink and would she please be able to make sure that I got home safely in case I got pissed, and so she was kind enough to drive me back to my motel, even though I wasn’t pissed to the badness point, just the ridiculous amounts of fun and also trying to teach boys how to waltz point, where I logged on and wrote this incredibly eloquent journal entry. Which, as it happens, cost me $10 for the phone call, so I hope you enjoyed it.

Sunday, December 5th
What I would like to know is which bastard decided that it would be a good fun thing for motels to have a 10am checkout. It certainly wasn’t me anyways. But there you have it, according to my receipt I managed to shower and pack in a severely hungover state and pay my $122 bill by 10.07am ($105 room, $6 minibar, $10 internet phonecall, 40cent taxi phonecall). Yay me! And then I rang Brenda and got directions to her house. She’d promised to cook me waffles but I was feeling so ill that I had to make a quick stop into Burger King on the way there. You know their “suck it and see” straws? Well they come with a fucking piece of paper telling you what colour your straw is before you even get the chance. What’s the point in that? None! There is no point. Plus the straws feel oooky and taste yucky. You suck, Burger King. What doesn’t suck is the coffee Brenda makes on her posh machine, and her home made cookies. We sat and drank coffee for an hour and a bit and gossiped. I think she’s fantastic. She didn’t make me waffles though, but that’s fine because I was full of BK and cookies and coffee anyways. My throat was hurting like a motherfucker, as it had started on Thursday what with me singing for eight hours on the drive up, and then continued with the singing and dancing on Friday night, and then the Saturday night, and the unhealthy lifestyling and the talking talking talking. So what did I do? I left Brenda to go meet up with Amy&Andee and talk talk talk some more.

The cafe we went to – Metropolis was cheaper than an Auck or Welly one, and big plates of pasta and yumness. Haha, look at the quality of my England Writering. We got caught up on our current lives (Amy’s doing a PhD! !!!) and settled in to bitch about our old lives as well. They finally told me about how a girl who I thought was my friend slept with the guy I fancied six and a half years ago. OMG! So that makes what, seven ‘friends’ who’ve done that now? You’ll excuse me if I’m a little cynical when it comes to friendships now and put an ever increasing value on the TWO YEAR RULE. I’m looking at you here Jessie, as my newest friend. And Heather too – make sure you keep your thieving mitts off Zach Braff, dammit! Anyways, the story of this girl and boy in question is that she’d been at my house in Mt Roskill when he’d invited us over to his place on the shore, and so she drove us over, and he offered us a smoke and I was like “oh no thanks” cos I didn’t want to embarrass myself by coughing, and then he said that I could crash there for the night so the girl wouldn’t have to go back to Mt Roskill to drop me off since she was from the shore anyways (I should have known better) but I said no to that too, because I was fucking dumb 17 year old, and so she drove me home and apparently went back and slept with him. Nice! I stopped talking to her a couple of weeks after that anyways since someone cut&pasted me the nasty shit she’d been saying about me on IRC anyways. Hahaha IRC. Funny. (Also hahaha if, Mr Boy in Question, you’re still lurking). But Amy, Andee I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU DIDN’T TELL ME SOONER. Heh. Then we went and admired the RiffRaff statue (Hamiltron is so wack) and then I drove back to Auck for nailpainting and facials with Kateb. Hurray.

“P.S I’ll overlook the fact that you came to Hamilton [possibly numerous times] and didn’t see me, if you overlook my excessive use of brackets and caps. Thats what a friend would do. Thanks.”

Andeee honey, you used square brackets. :]. heh.

I have been a bad bad girl and not kept in contact with my darling Hamilton friends Hole and Andee. This was by no means intentional. I also miss Miss Maree Hamilton Mazzive like crazy, so perhaps a trip to the city that’s “So much more than you’d expect” is in order pretty soon. Not next weekend though, because Nikki has me booked, and by that stage I wouldn’t have seen her for two weeks, and I’m going fucking crazy without her. I also miss Tom extreme amounts and am very much looking forward to going to Chch at Easter.

On Friday night I stood in a line with Ammy, who is skinny, and Jody, who is a personal trainer, while three boys groped our asses to compare them. They declared that rugby was the winner on the day. KateM’s flatmates’ friends gave us funny looks. The boys had started it though, making us judge their asses first. It was a thoroughly enjoyable party. KateM’s house was apparently the first brothel in Auckland, and it’s this darling little thing in a semi industrial area, which is a little weird but very cool. I consumed very vast amounts of liquor which I had been unable to do all week leading up to it, so that was fun, although yesterday didn’t feel so fun. My head is aching from the sugar pills part of my estelle35, begging me to take more hormones. It fucking sucks, especially since KateH still has all of my codiene.

Bo came round last night to hang out, so that was lovely. We’re full of plans for another dinner at Canton, so we gotta choose a date and hurry up and book in. Right now I would give anyone head for a neckrub, it’s so fucking sore. Then again, right now I’d probably give anyone head full stop. I am more than a little sexually frustrated lately. However, I do also have a pretty new grey skirt that matches my grey hat what I got at the clothing trade we had at the school gala – where inncidently I made 50 cents in the kissing booth – and if Katie would give me back my black lycra top, then we’d all be happy. And I’m not hassling you Katie, I just know that I’ll forget to ask for it at any other time, and you’ll read it here and that will be good. Wonderful.

And yay, I can still scrape together $11, so I’m off to rent six movies. What should I get? Hmmm. I’ve just finished Hunter S Thompsen’s biography – although yes, a review of it appeared in my last edition, so shoot me, I wrote it before I finished the actual book – so I’ll probably get ‘Fear and Loathing’. And maybe ‘The Ice Storm’, cos feeling hollow and empty is just what I need! And some kinda teen movie, and and and. Maybe the original Buffy movie. Heh. I have such good taste, really I do. But it’s okay, cos I’m not going to Videon so the guy can’t snob me out. It’s funny though, cos Bo was in there after ‘My Friend Totoro’ which they didn’t have, and the guy was all “oh but we’re getting ‘Spirited Away’ in on DVD soon” and so Bo got to go “well I saw that at the press preview with my friend” and he was very jealous and I wish she’d said “the same friend who you turned your nose up at cos she was renting Molly Ringwald movies”. Nevermind.

xojo

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?

I could write today up all light hearted, and talk about my hangover, and why you shouldn’t accept drinks of Absinthe from spunky men you’re trying very hard to chat up at Lumiere and talk about dancing at Khuja for hours and then being walked home by KateM and Brad and Nigel despite my insistence that it was completely unnecessary. Or I could talk about bawling my eyes out when I got home, about ringing up Tom because it was freaky to be alone whilst being so very aware of my own mortality. I could talk about crying in the shower again today remembering so many little things about Scott just because he’s dead now, wheras I wouldn’t have given him a second thought last week. And that makes me feel stupid, and somewhat tacky, jumping on the whole grief bandwagon thing maybe? I don’t know. Besides a brief confirming phone conversation with Amy yesterday I haven’t talked to anyone who actually knew him about it. I haven’t really talked to anyone today, except for KateH on the phone, and I’m lonely. I know there are people i could call, but what i really really want is just someone to hold me. I want that kind of comfort. Because it’s all about me, isn’t it? It always is.

So I’ve been online for like 30 minutes and I still haven’t managed to read a single one of my emails yet. I really must change email accounts.

I bought two heads of brocoli today at 15 cents a head each. This is a good thing. I got them in Northcote, if you’re interested. Today again I was driving around the Shore investigating venues. It’s great. I like Rob in the car division – he gave me a manual drive car today when I told him about the stupid things I did with the automatic last week (I was wondering why the car braked so damn jerky when I was being super gentle until I realised that I was using my left foot on the brake, which as we all know is wrong). There’s a couple’o pajs parked down in amongst the company car pool too – I’ve promised Brad and Clay I’m going to try my hardest to get to take a paj out for the day and I’ll come and pick them up and we’ll drive through Remmers darling. Anyways. So yeah, Northcote/Birkenhead in the morning, then Devenport and Albany in the afternoon.

I had a meeting with the PR Consultant lady I’m working with who’s only in 2 days a week and gave my report and she said I was going well, and that I have full authority to go ahead and book the venues and start drawing up a timetable. Scaaary! I’d much rather someone was checking me every step of the way, but I just don’t have that at work – they leave me up to my own devices. I’m very good at looking busy. I have email at work now, finally my own key and login, but so far I’ve only given my email address to essential contacts (read: Kini and Olivia). I’m trying to be good. I don’t want to fuck this all up. I’m alredy worried about finding a job in February, because I know I have a tendancy not to be very good at seeking things out because basically everything i ever need falls in my lap. Except for my paycheque – grrr! I don’t get paid for a fortnight, and I’m in malls and shopping areas for half the morning – all my xmas shopping could be done by now if I had a cent left in the bank. Ahh well. Tomorrow I’m going to be in a working party conference anyways. Have I mentioned that I get business cards?

Wank wank wank wank wank. I actually am often left without anything to do, so I call Shirley, and since I’m in an open planned office, the people around me would hear
“Hi, it’s Joanna here from *, is that you Shirley? How are you?…….. Right, I’m calling in regards to the communication briefing I received the other day……….. No no, that’s fine……..yes I was in contact yesterday but we decided to not pursue that avenue any further for a while…. yes of course it’s re-occuring….I appreciate that…. absolutely, I’ll just make a note of that…….. yes…. yes….. well would you have some time free for a meeting?…….. how’s today for you?…..alright well we’ll scheduale something for next week then” and then my boss will come back and I’ll want to ask her something so I’ll hang up on Shirley really abruptly going “Great, well thank you very much for your time”. I’m SO a kid in heels and pearls. Nevermind the fact that the rest of the office spends their lives on the phone having really boring conversations with their car insurance and real estate agent places that I can’t help but evesdrop on. Or maybe they’re all speaking in a secret code too. Hmmmmmmm, intriguing!

Because I spent so much time driving today, I came up with a list of memorable car moments that I jotted down because I was bored. You know how I like my lists. Sheesh, anyone would think that I was incapable of stringing together anything more cohesive. And ha! I’m going to alphabetize them by the first letter in the sentence:

• A memory from Primary School; the greatest day of my life ever at that stage was when I got to sit squashed up next to my Crush – Andrew Carnegie – to and from a netball tournament
• Amy and Andee taking me over the harbour bridge by mistake, playing the Spice Girls and bumping the car to cheer me up
• Anji and Greg taking me up to Auckland for Pearl Jam when I was 14, determined to corrupt me and we picked up a dumb hitchhiker who said “Youse guys”
• Countless Welly/Auck drives with Kate B, listening to Cat Stevens, blowing bubbles and taking mad photos left right and centre
• Driving myself to Wellington thinking so hard that later I wrote a 7 page essay on the appropriate course of action to take as a consequence of that thought process
• Driving to Welly with Simon and Matt Sawkill in the backseat, me giggling away to myself like the cat that’s got the cream and is mixing its metaphors like a DJ with religion.
• Going to Waiuku for Kate H’s goodbye party, Justin putting the car in neutral going down a hill and it kept going, freefalling
• Kim speeding along Greenlane West at 3am in the fog when we were on a mad sugar rush and couldn’t see 10 feet ahead of us
• Kini in my rear view mirror, the magical drive into the Coramandel
• MM in the MR2, subwoofer under my seat, lost in Remuera at 4am trying to find food cos we’d been up arguing all night
• Pajero pulling up outside my house in Mount Roskill, Shirley and Dee Cavalry coming to be with me when I found out that Opa died
• Pixie’s friend Sam’s orange pumpkin car, tinnie house in Te Atatu right next to a primary school and I thought we’d be beaten up by protective westie parents
• Roadtripping to Waihi with Shirley, her doing crazy overtaking manouvers and making Trudie scream when I dared her to drive down a bank
• Sung Song association all the way to St. Heliers with Brad in the stereoless Grey Ghost
• the other night in Jeremy’s car, cold from swimming, falling asleep on Clayton’s shoulder

I warned you that i have full stationary cupboard rights – notepads are perfect for lists.

“I think you’re crazy, maybe, I think you’re crazy.”

I’m on my way
From A U T to hamilton today
ahuh ahuh ahuh

Ahuh. Project reports were all proffesionally bound and handed in today. I am free. Life is good!

Hi Michael Shadbolt. I liked your set on Pulp last year.

Second night of the expo went much better than the first, because I was handing out name tags and was therefore able to grab people’s attention as they came in, and also because I was wearing my New Media Pants. So there. Some interesting oppotunities have arisen as a consequence, which i will get back to you on as more details surface. But for today, I’m going to Hammy to see Andeee and Amy and go to Shihad/Weta/Fur Patrol, wahoo! Suck though that Andee doesn’t have a ticket, but we might scrape a doorsale through. Hopefully. Either way though, it’ll still be fabo to see her and drink instant coffee and hope to bump into the old boys and stuff.

Tomorrow night I’m back to Auckland for Trudie’s 21st, maybe Kate Orange’s 21st and Justin’s farewell party, and then on sunday morning, I’m flying to welly for a week. I’m getting picked up at the airport and then it’s straight off to Oma’s house for lunch, wahoo. So yeah, busy busy. I guess i should go pack now, but that’s boring. All I’m taking to hammy is cheap wine and a change of clothing anyways.

Going out after the Expo was fun – hundreds of us at the London Bar. Clay was there with his tv buddies, so that was cool. Jodie was very sly, which impressed me. I had a conversation with Ben and Kyle about celebacy (I can’t even spell it) and romance as opposed to sex, and it amused me. Later at Macdonalds, Nick Jodie and I were talking about scoring tech people, and when I said I’d snogged a person from tech, Nick was very sure that I’d snogged Brad, which I haven’t, and I never ever will, because no, that’d be like ewww, snogging a brother. And we all know I’d never screw the crew (again). So that was disturbing. The fact that I only paid for one bottle of wine the entire night and yet got bollickingly drunk on drinks bought for me was not disturbing. And having six business cards when i got home was impressive, I thought.

Okay, really must go now, I guess. I like driving, but I don’t like driving in Hamilton – I always get lost. Still, needs must! xoxo “Maybe later – I’ve got creamy goodness in my mouth right now”

Wednesday 17; February, 1999

This is the invitation I made for our flatwarming. Obviously, on the original, my address and phone number aren’t blanked out. The thing is this – if I wanted you to have them, you already would. So there. And yeah, it’s invites only, I do believe.

Obviously the invites are made to be cut up into little pieces. I only gave one sheet of them to Leyton – he said he’s not going to be inviting too many people. Gee, I wonder why? Drying dishes while he washed tonight, all he could talk about was that if you don’t rinse the soap off dishes, it’ll give you cancer. Jesus Wept, boy – talking to you will probably give me cancer first. Either that or I’ll die of fricking boredom.

My arms hurt a lot today. You see, I walked up to the vege shop up the road, then I carried home a big and very heavy box full of vegetables. And my arms also hurt from making Risotto, since it takes so much goddam stirring. Still, it was nice though, and healthy. Too bad if the boys are having problems with a lack of meat. Leyton ate like 2/3rd of the risotto – it was truely terrifying. Then he cooked himself a steak and it smelt awful and made me feel really really nauseous. I hid out in my bedroom cos they were watching the cricket, and got my parents to call me for a natter. I’m such a dutiful daughter. I probably should have called Karen instead, but hey – she can fucking call ME someday. I’m so not made of money.

That’s about all. I’m missing Andeee and Amy looooooots – there’s like never anyone online anymore that I really want to talk to. Oh, but Heather’s back, which is a definate YAY. And that’s all I have to report. I lay on my bed for like half an hour today, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I like my eyes a lot, I’ve decided.

Friday 29; January, 1999
I figured it was time I tried to make this page look a tiny bit more classy, so here we are. Typing inside a frame because it’s easier that way. Is that okay? Ooooh, I’m liking the slight change in colour-scheme. I hope you’re liking it too. After all, without you, I’m nothing.

The orange goes so well with the purple, and it’s my little tribute to Jo, too. I miss her stacks. The summer of 97/98 I spent mostly with Amy – when I wasn’t with Matt – but this summer I spent most of my time with Jo, so I’m just used to being able to drive over to Miramar, pick her up and go to the beach or town or whatever. Of course now though, I’m in Auckland, and she’s in Christchurch, hopefully doing okay. Xoxoxoxo to you when you read this, hon.

Gosh, I’m being so damn cliquey in this entry today, huh? I know through one of my many counters (yes, I’m obsessed) where people are finding this site from. Most of the people who read my journal have it bookmarked. Others come to Ego Much? from Holloway, Green Oatmeal and also another site where I have some writing posted. (Oh, is there a missing link there? What, AGAIN? Man, I must be forgetful). Talking about Green Oatmeal, I really do suggest that you go and look at it. I was so thrilled when I went back today and discovered that Beth has a JOURNAL up now. She’s so funny, I love her site to bits.

Oh yeah, and speaking of worship (yes, I know this entry is turning just completly self indulgent and internet-people obsessed) Holloway Matthew had some really really interesting things to say about reading other people’s pages which I’d quote, except it’s like too long, so go here and read it for yourself. He gets brownie points for listing me as a ‘really great person’. Wahoo.

I watched Havoc tonight, which probably explains why I’m being so stuck up and self-indulgent. It was their big-day-out special and all the Hole footage made me go “awwwwwwww” and want to be back there. It was a truely truely mind blowing experiance. I love Courtney Love, so I thought all her banter was great, but I guess I can see how people who didn’t like her would hate it. Maybe that’s what my page is like – to a great lesser extent. I mean, I know there are people who enjoy reading it, because they like me. I also know there are people who don’t enjoy reading it, because they don’t like me. Quick question then – WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU HERE? Everyone can ask themselves that, not just the people who dislike me.

Other things that are noteworthy – ummm there’s more stuff on the Written page in case I didn’t already mention that. It’s all old stuff, but now it’s actually linked to. Also I updated my Leaving page, making it far more snobby, so that it’s all sites that I actually respect. No more links to ugly pages from people I know off IRC that really have very little to offer. Fuck I’m nasty these days. Oh well.

I had the worst night’s sleep ever – I had to get up at 5.30am cos I was too hot, and bitten and stuff, so I booted up my computer and talked to Heidi – that’s Simon’s girlfriend who’s back in Finland now. We’re starting a brothel together. She rocks so much – me and Jo taught her all our annoying little sayings (“you’re malcolm”, “on the piss”, “sucks to my asthma” etc) and she’s still using them, and is doing her best to spread them around. The landlord rang me out of bed at 9am, and came around half an hour later with the locksmith – so that’s definatly worth getting up for. Layton’s bed and desk got delivered, and he himself arrived. I talked to him for a while, then had to excuse myself at 11.30am to go back to bed, where I slept for four hours. I just didn’t know what to talk to him about. Clayton’s moving in on Sunday, so hopefully things will be easier after then. The problem is that I’ve sort of settled into a routine having lived here for a week either by myself, or just with Simon who has pretty much the same habits as me (wake after 12pm, bum around all day online, eat dinner as the first meal of the day, then eat toast at night until about 2am then go to bed). I know I’ll have to get out of that pattern once tech starts up again, but still…. I wonder what it’ll be like living with two people I hardly know that I’m expected to interact with.

Anyways, so that’s probably enough for tonight. Oh yeah, just a little request – PLEASE sign my guestbook if you’re new here, or sign it anyways. I’d love to know what sort of people are reading about me and stuff. Market research and all that.

I’m listening to the Tank Girl soundtrack right now. I miss L7. I miss Grrly 5th form, and Cyst – the zine I made with Penny and Sarah that consisted entirely of putting down Room 6 people.