Hubris.co.nz

Friday 12; Febuary, 1999
I was smart and turned my cellphone off last night (or this morning at some heinous hour to be perfectly honest, although I won’t tell you the exact hour because it shocks even me). This morning I woke up to the sound of a toilet flushing, which completely freaked me out. I mean, I should have been the only person in the house. So I opened up my door and there was Clayton in the hall – obviously home from the Coramandel. I went back to bed, after turning my cellphone back on.

I woke up again around 1pm when it beeped at me with a page from Olivia. I’d had two messages before then from Justine, but I’d slept through those. So yeah, it was good to get a wake-up call. Kate yelled at me yesterday that I need to reset my body clock for when Tech starts again. I kinda like living four hours behind the rest of the world apart from Andee and Thomas but then again, Andee’s moving back to Hamilton on Saturday so I won’t be able to talk to her on the net anymore anyways. And plus, now Clayton’s back, I can’t have music blasting out at all hours. Boy, it’s going to be weird living with someone again. I’d gotten so used to the solitaire thing. This is probably healthier – no more toast for dinner.

And speaking of not eating toast for dinner, I went to the supermarket today. I was going to take a bus up to it, but then I realised that I’d just missed on and I didn’t want to wait another twenty five minutes, so I figured I may as well walk. It’s just as well I did, because Foodtown is actually so much closer than I thought it was. So I did the shopping, trying to keep expenses down, and having no idea really what to buy because I wasn’t shopping for just me. I did buy heaps of shit for myself though, like shampoo and chocolate and red wine (life’s essentials) but that’s going to come out of my pocket, not the communal-yet-to-be-established-fund. Walking down the wine aisle, I accepted a taste-cup of some red that tasted a lot like a white, because it hadn’t been oaked. I guess it was the sun, and the fact that I hadn’t eaten all day, but I felt all light-headed and warm after that. Made the shopping better I guess.

I took a cab home, because there was no way I could haul all the groceries home otherwise. My driver was this really cool chick, and we just babbled away the whole distance home. It was $5, so that’s cool – not too much to spend for saving so much hassle. It’s nice to have food in the cupboards again. I was even inspired to do a little cleaning and tidying.

It’s weird now though, cos like I said, Clayton’s back and so I feel like I have to be tidy and polite and stuff. No big deal really, but I can’t scratch myself, or sit with my skirts hiked up now or anything. I don’t want to traumatise the lad.

There was something I wanted to say, and I can’t remember what it was anymore. I’ve seen the layout for Annette’s Valentines Day thingie, and it rocks. So yeaaaaah baby. Ahhhhhhh Valentine’s Day. So not friendly to single people. Sure, I’m smart enough to see how crappily cheesy and commercial it is, but SO?

Monday 8; Febuary, 1999

this came from Engine. Sorry if I’ve broken any copyrights

I scanned this in today for someone and I figured that you might enjoy it too. I mis Frankman, and I miss Engine too.
I finally talked to Dee this morning. Sheesh, I haven’t seen her in like, years. She rang me while I was lying in my new big bed, feeling kind of like I was on honeymoon only I was wearing scummy pj bottoms and an ugly tshirt instead of my authentic 1970s orange and yellow honeymoon neglige or my 1960s Barbarella slip.

There are some tasty visuals for you, huh? Anyways, she was just as enthralled as me to learn that her best friend from early High School, Theresa is none other than the Theresa of Kate’s friend fame who has been responsible for a great deal of damage to my body these past weeks. So yeah.

Kate came over today, and told me I was going to her place on Saturday for drinks before the Hero Parade. I told her I don’t like parades. She was like “but it’s the HERO Parade”. I don’t care if it’s the Hero Parade. That’s no different in my mindset than a Santa Parade, a Saint Patrick’s Day Parade, or that really really stupid thing they had back in ’95 when everyone wore red socks and threw paper in the street because of some boat winning some expensive race and I was the only person left in my English class because everyone else wagged to go and see it but I was protesting. Anyways, Kate doesn’t take no for an answer ever. Someone remind me please to take along RED wine with me so that I don’t have repeat inncidents of last time’s capers. Choice.

Speaking of stalkers – not that I was, but hey, my rinky dinky counter told me this morning that I’d been linked to from a journal entry on Olivia’s page. Who is Olivia? Well, I was asking myself that same question when I got an authorization request from her on ICQ. So yeah, I had a chat to her, and she was really cool. She said that she’s been seriously thinking of ringing me up on my cellphone, which made me giggle heaps. Can you imagine that, being rung by someone you don’t even know while you’re out in public and are showing off anyway? Well, I got good visuals of it, anyways.

What else? Oh yeah, Kate helped me dis-assemble my single bed (“if you were a green metal bedframe, you’d want to be hit with a hammer too” as I said to her when she complained about the noise) and so this evening I rearranged the lounge to acomodate it

Clayton: “I’m jealous because both you and Simon have beds with wrought iron headboards”

Me: “Well soon, anytime you feel like playing ‘tie-me-up’ games, you can just do it on the single in the lounge”

Of course, that conversation didn’t take place today, because he’s in the Coramandel. That’s actually kinda lucky, all things considered, because I got a tape in the mail today from Andee. It’s got awesome stuff like 5ive and Billie on it. I was singing and dancing like there was no tomorrow.

And if there is no tomorrow, you’ll need the following websites to amuse yourself with:

www.myboot.com | www.jailbabies.com – I reccomend Felicia

thanks to kini for the urls and for stalking me so well

Tuesday 26; January, 1999

Ahhhh sweet nothing days. Bliss. Umm. Did I do anything today? Not really. Let’s see. Hmm. Nope, still nothing.

Simon’s friend Don was around for a while. He has really ugly tattoos and he’s a total slut too. Slept with so many chicks off chat. Lame lame lame. Chat’s lost all its thrill for me now – which is a good thing. Basically the only person I talk to on a regular basis on there is Andee, now that I’m living with Simon and Hulita is still overseas.

Clayton and his friend Lucy came around in the evening, and we watched some of the globes. Apparently, Layton is 25. Lucy warned me that Layton is boring, and that he’ll probably ask me out. Well, I don’t think that’s too likely, but oh great – a boring flatmate.

Anyways, I have nothing to say, sorry. Except the stalker was a silly girl called Tammie – go figure.

I’ve so got to get a job.

Wednesday, November 25th

Tahoma. That’s my font. Yeah. Annnnnnnyways.

What do I have to say for myself? Not a great deal actually. I can tell you about my really weird dream though. Okay. I was back in Auckland, walking around, and for some reason I came across my friend, and his ex girlfriend, and her friend Helena, whose page I’m always reading. I’ve never met the ex, or Helena, but both of them looked completly different from photos I’ve seen, and they were completly different from their webpages – and by that I mean they were all sunny and happy and friendly, not at all dramatic or angry. Helena took us up to her flat and it was HUGE. It just went on for ages and ages, all brand new and flash, although she said she only paid $100 rent a week. I remember walking around in it, asking her where each single piece of furniture came from, because it was all so cool. So yeah, anyways, that was just a dream. They really really liked me in the dream, and I just felt like I was completely on their level, which is different from real life I guess. I go and read Helena’s guestbook every so often – there are like 1600 entries now, and it’s such a clique, and it’s kind of amusing. Like, I fully respect her honesty and her strength, and her writing blows me away, but I dunno – there’s just something not quite right about her attitude. In my opinion anyways. I guess that’s the trouble with fan clubs. They make your head swell. Isn’t it about time you signed my guestbook?

Honesty and strength huh? Two things I pride myself on, two things that I lie to myself about. When I was writing up my Born page, I was all “I am Happy” and it’s true – just that there are things that worry me. I’m not perfect, and no man is an island. That’s choice though – I guess it’s just a question of looking at the WHOLE picture, rather than the little fragments. And as a WHOLE, I am blissfully happy. I’m going to a “Where the Wild Things Are” partay on Saturday at Anji’s flat, and if we’re both less sick, it’ll be fucking fantastic.

I’m so fully in shock when people make comments about stuff in my journal to me. Hulita and Andee read through ALL of Lovesong – now that is dedication! It’s also sorta psycho, but that’s okay – if any of you guys had online journals, I’d be the first to read it. Voyers’R Us.

Anyways, speaking of Lovesong, I realised that I only included like, the love songs in there. Now, that might sound obvious, but they’re not the only songs that move me – although they are generally Happy Memory songs, despite the fuckedupedness of it all. There are songs like “Daughter” by Pearl Jam that make me want to cry – that one’s the song I always pair with Emily – a girl I know who died of a brain tumour. Then there are songs like “Sweet Child of Mine” by GNR that really scare me. They played that at Dee’s party, and while all my friends were going crazy, I had to go outside to escape. My immediate reaction was to head for the toilet, then I realised that was the worst place I could go.

So I was sitting outside, enjoying the solitude when Brad came out so I had to talk to him. He probably figured I was completly drunk and on the verge of puking or something, which was totally not true. I had so little to drink at the party – I guess that’s the benifit of drinking in bars where you have to pay lots for each individual drink. It was still an enormasly cool party. I was first on the dance floor (Derek made us go onto it when they played the Backstreet Boys) and like last to leave.

It was really lovely, cos at the end of the night, they played “Loyal” and all of us – it was mostly Tutorial D people left – just stood in a circle with our arms around each other. Yes, cheesy and sweaty I know, but hey! I can’t believe how fast this year has gone by, and how much I’ve changed.

Who would have known at the start of the year that I’d dance publicly when not drunk? Or that I’d get so into the TMI I’d put my diary online?