1. What did you do in 2009 that you’d never done before?

• Got made redundant
• Stayed overnight in hospital
• Lost items of value in a burglary
• Had my first threesome. And my second. And my third.
• Had an intern.
• Replied to someone on an internet dating site and then slept with them.
• Received over two grand’s worth of free stuff for being a blogger (the $1200 freeview box made up a lot of that)
• Went to Roller Derby
• Won a “Best Fan” prize
• Kissed 17 people in one night (hurray for kissing booths!)
• Had someone pay for me to get into a strip club, and also tucking money into strippers’ underwear for the first time
• Willingly (ish) went through a break-up.
• Had someone throwing me a surprise party.
• Worn red lipstick frequently and confidently.

2. Did you keep your new years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

Apparently my resolutions for this year were about taking better care of myself, and although I did continue to sleep with the married man for a bit, we did indeed eventually break it off, so yay me. And then I resolved to never sleep with a married person again, which is a good resolution to have and I have yet to break it again. I also resolved to have breakfast with someone after we’d slept together, and while I thought I’d achieved that when I woke up with a boy for the first time since 2004, we didn’t actually have breakfast, unless you count helping ourselves to one another’s genitals again. Oh oh but actually, I did make wedges for a lady caller that we ate in bed together so I guess that counts.

My new resolution is to articulate myself better when I don’t like something, rather than just dealing with it. As in “please take your hand off my leg” instead of moving chairs, or “Actually I don’t like Hawaiiian Pizza” instead of just avoiding those slices. Etc.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

Fucking buttloads of people had babies this year! Specifically Martha and Brenda and my best friend Penny from high school. Still more of my friends are pregnant right now, and it’s all a little bit over the top, if you ask me. I can’t have breakfast with a boy and you all can get married and buy houses and have babies? Unfair!

4. Did anyone close to you die?

No, but people very close to people I am very close to did, and all I could do about it was text stupid jokes every day and send care packages of Noel Fielding.

5. What countries did you visit?

Sydney for FullCodePress (thanks to the lovely Tash Mahal) and Vanuatu for fun.

6. What would you like to have in 2010 that you lacked in 2009?
Breakfast with someone, obviously, since I can now cook eggs. Also, a job. And let’s say a proper public relationship where the person I am with shouts it from the rooftops.

7. What date from 2009 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
The Wellingtonista Awards again because of the work and the memories that I was a bit scared of. December 10 because it was my ten year anniversary of fucking. July 17 for my ten years of Hubris party and because it was when I relaunched this site in WordPress. June 30 for being my last day at the SSC.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Honestly, I had a motherfucking buttload of bad shit happen to me this year, and so the fact that I’m still in good spirits, that I’m happy, sort of healthy and am able to keep going on, and that I’ve ended the year with all my friendships intact and even with new friends is pretty fucking awesome. Go me!

9. What was your biggest failure?

Honestly, I’m shocked that I don’t have another job yet. I know that I am hireable, that I have many skills and talents and the fact that I’m still unemployed is really weird. I’m also disppointed that I’m not as over someone as I’d like to be, but that’s not something you can force and you definitely can’t get over someone by being under as many people as possible. I’ve learnt my lesson on that front quite a few times this year.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Depression as per usual, some nasty flus, withdrawl from zopiclone when I finally came off them, and also hospitalisation after an ingrown hair gave me cellulitis. But apart from that, no!

11. What was the best thing you bought?
My laptop(s) that allow me to download and watch copious amounts of television. Also every present that I’ve bought for others that has allowed me to demonstrate even the smallest fraction of how much I care about them.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?

My family who have continued to lend me money and buy me things like a new laptop after mine got stolen and I didn’t have insurance, who paid my power bill for me so I wouldn’t get disconnected and who aren’t demanding that I pay them back for our trip to Vanuatu. Also everyone this year who’s bought me a drink or a meal in exchange for my company, especially Tom, who is insanely generous. My friends who’ve helped me out of emotional jams, listened to me bitching and moaning and kept me company through the long dark winter, Smoo whose quiet presence in the house is always welcome, and everyone who gave me orgasms this year and fucked me til my thighs ached.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

Management at SSC and everyone else who didn’t hire me, people who think that hitting kids is okay, the cunt who burgled us, and anyone who has treated my friends badly.

14. Where did most of your money go?
Double rents and unemployment.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

Roller derby! Kat & Kane’s wedding! Harvestbird & Knedd’s wedding! People having babies!

16. What song will always remind you of 2009?

‘So here we are’ by Bloc Party becasue it played while I was lying in my lover’s arms for what we thought was the last time, and so that he wouldn’t see me crying I buried my face in his neck and we fucked because it fit the narrative structure that way. And also ‘Some time around Midnight’ by the Airbourne Toxic Event, even though or actually because as Good Tom says there’s far too much pathos in it for one song. It’s like the story of my life condensed down into four minutes. Oh and because it was so recent, ‘Halo’ is standing out in my mind right now too.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
i. happier or sadder? Happier, despite all the crap. I am getting better at dealing with everything.
ii. smaller or larger? Larger, by a lot probably.
iii. richer or poorer? Much much poorer.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Physical activies and community service. Also, I wish I’d put more work into You Are So Entertaing but I still can!

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Wasting time on Twitter and Spider Solitaire and watching crappy television. Passive-aggressive texting and emailing. I sent some spectacularly nasty drunken emails this year and I am very not proud of them. My defense of being desperate for any kind of reaction is not good enough.

20. How will you be spending Christmas?

My parents and Karen came over to my house and were joined by Bad Tom and Shirley and I cooked amazing food and we gorged ourselves and had a thoroughly pleasant time of it.

21. Who did you spend the most time on the phone with?
WINZ. Heather and Kat <3.

22. Did you fall in love in 2009?

I didn’t fall, I stayed in.

23. How many one-night stands?

Three? In terms of one-offs, there was a girl, there was Tingle and there was the guy from Internet dating. I did see the girl again though, but only in a friend capacity. In addition, there were multiple occasions with the married man, the duck and the crazy girl. Oh, and I had intended to have a playdate with the boy who’d watched me and the crazy girl in his hotel room, whose kiss made me a little weak at the knees, but despite some textage, the stars didn’t align. Which is probably for the best.

24. What was your favorite TV program?
Mad Men, Community, 30 Rock, Dollhouse (!!!!!)

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

Nope.

26. What was the best book you read?

Oh god, have I actually done any reading this year? I liked Generation A but not nearly as much as Generation X. I don’t think I can remember any other books, really, which I know is pretty terrible. Don’t tell Karen okay?

27. What was your greatest musical discovery?

Umm, getting a subscription to Last.FM? And taking all the contents of Emma and Lisa’s hard drives?

28. What did you want and get?

A laptop. To wake up in someone’s arms. Lots and lots of pashes. Amazing collections of friends. An overseas tropical holiday and some weekend jaunts other places. To get on the dole and be left mostly alone (well, I’d rather I didn’t have to, but it was a struggle to get here anyway). The ability to sleep without zopiclone.

29. What did you want and not get?

An invitation to Foo Camp – I worked really hard to prove myself this year hoping to get one and I didn’t. Sad face. Also, a new job, and at the time of writing, a full house. Paying extra rent is killing me. A real relationship. An ONYA nomination.

30. What was your favorite film of this year?

I’m not sure what movies I actually went to this year. There weren’t very many of them, that’s for sure.

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

On my actual birthday I got free coffee from Green Land, I went to work, then I went to the Backbencher for someone’s goodbye drinks. I was feeling nauseous so I only drank gin. Then with my family I went to Elements for dinner which was amazing. Prior to that, my amazing sisters threw me a freak show surprise party! It was amaaaaaaaaaaaazing! I turned 29, which means I’m almost 30 now. Crikey!

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Finding a new job shortly after being made redundant with a bit of time for a holiday in between.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2009?

I’ve got really into the Fatshionista community and started posting outfits of the day before my camera got stolen. I’m still trying to be Joan Holloway. I’ve also started wearing red lipstick, thanks to the lovely Megan.

34. What kept you sane?
My amazing counsellor, my family’s love and financial support and my fantastic friends.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

Noel Fielding? Jon Stewart still makes me moist. As does ummm oh I don’t know. People? Stuff? Things? Tom Coates and that other guy from Webstock. Matt Bidulp? I can’t remember. Oh! And Victor from Dollhouse.

36. What political issue stirred you the most?

Ridiculous bullshit redundancies, strangely enough. Oh yeah, ICT’s totally not going to be a growth area…

37. Who did you miss?

The secret relationship. All my friends who are in other cities, especially Heather and Kat’n Kane. Really angry I missed out on meeting Ghetsum again cos I was too sick. And Good Tom, who shouldn’t have left to go to America, fucker.

38. Who was the best new person you met?
Oh my gosh, I met so many awesome people this year, like Kim and Laura and Amie through Twitter, Chiara and Theresa and Julie through Pretty Pretty Pretty and also my new flatmate Thigh Voltage and through her the derby girls. Also, I’d already met Megan before but I feel like we became really good friends this year and that’s always worth celebrating.

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2009:
The people that care about you want to be there for you. You just need to learn to ask for help.

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
“I get by with a little help from my friends”.

Today Anji came over because she had the day off, and it was sunny, and she weeded my garden, and I did two loads of washing, and cleaned out the tiki shack, and the mouldy towels and mats and cardboard boxes and other sundry rubbish from the garden, and hiffed loads and loads of weeds over the fence into the nothingness. It was hard work, I tell you. So I am very tired. It was great hanging out with Anji though because I could talk about the things that I can’t talk to anyone else in Wellington about, and this makes me feel all Barbara Kruger like, and all altruistic and stuff, because my silence is other people’s comfort and all that, but also, again, pitchforks and torches. But we had a lengthy discussion about my tendency to sleep with people that I have no risk of falling for after I’ve had my heart broken (see this and this and this (although that one backfired) etc) in an attempt to safeguard myself again. Etc.

And then to continue on that note, I went for a drink with the girl from Saturday night tonight,  and we were having a grand old time, and then boy #2 from that night also showed up and I found that hilarious because they were all not talking much and I was talking lots, and I adore Johnnie at Hooch so much. But I was very sober, so I took off to bus home and be talked to by strange women on the street surprising me out of my loud Interpol head noise. Tonight I’ll rest my chemistry instead.

So anyways, near the start of June, I was supposed to go to Social Innovation Camp, but I was so so tired from presenting about SMS to people, and so much talk talk talk about work stuff, and I was hungover from something, some drinking after work but where and with who I can’t remember, but oooh, a look at my Google Calendar tells me that I had a glasses adjustment (I got new glasses) that day, so now I remember that I thought I lost my glasses that night, which means that i was playing Rockband with a whole bunch of public servants (I eventually found my glasses days later having torn my room apart and uncovering a dead rat under my bed by following a trail of peanuts – my laptop had crumbs on it so I had obviously been eating something while writing crap on the internet drunk, and then I saw a peanut container by my chest, and so if I’d thrown the peanut container there, perhaps I had thrown my glasses there too, and I had – I’m so Veronica Mars it hurts sometimes). I would not be able to function without Google Calendar, I almost had a heart attack when it went down one day oooh la la. Anyways, back to my point. So anyways, on a Saturday at the start of June I had to drag my ass over to Karen’s house to do secret work on Neil’s birthday present, and Amy was supposed to be coming over to make us up, so I was in ratty tshirt and jeans, and I was carrying food, and wine, and I had to walk up three floors because the lift was down, and I walked in the door of Karen’s apartment and then this happened:


Photo by Jed
It turned out that I was having a MOTHERFREEKING CIRCUS FREAK SURPRISE BIRTHDAY PARTY! Have you ever seen me speechless before? No? Well you should have been there really, shouldn’t you? Oh my stars, it was astonishing. There were lions and tigers and bears and creepy hypnotists, and two-headed freaks, and bearded ladies, and kissing booths and cakes with ponies and decorations everywhere and flaming hoops and gypsies and fortune tellers and cupcakes and umm, just go look at photos from Anji and Bambi and Kowhai and Jed’s and my crappy cellphone photos (I can’t find my camera cable). I was truly truly blown away, it was astonishingly awesome. I have never had a surprise party before, and apparently it was rather difficult to plan one for me as I am so hyper-socially-organised, but Karen and Anji and all the other lovelies did a most spectacular job, and I was just like holycrapwowfuck for a very long time. And they read out nice things from people who couldn’t be there, including KateB who had rung the night before to wish me a happy birthday and I had been like “umm, what the fuck? it’s not my birthday for another couple of weeks, how do you not know that?” and she’d been like “oh, umm, I’m drunk” and I’d laughed, but looking back there were a million little pieces that all make sense now. So yes, birthday party. Awesomeness.

There has been a lot of drinking at work lately as well, because of half of our team losing our jobs, and there’s gradual goodbyes, and finishing off of projects, and writing “No, I rocked” as an answer to a personal assessment question about whether I could have done anything better this past year. I’ve finally published the report that I worked on over the summer with the intern, and I’m having my final say about stuff. I cried a little bit when I wrote my last update for the work blog. Then I got drunk. I had birthday dinner with my family at Elements in Lyall Bay which was amazing – incredible service, value and taste, and then last Friday I had a big group dinner with my friends at China Delight, who were delightful and rang me after I’d left to say happy birthday to me again. I have a lot of friends it turns out. There were more drinks at the Hawthorn Lounge after that, even though we’d just been there the week before for Shirley’s 30th. They always give me extra olives in my martinis now.

It’s been so cold that there has had to be lot more drinking because bars are warm. There was burlesque at Bodega that was squirmy. There were long conversations with Canadians at Hooch about the Zombie Apocalypse and the roles that we will all have to play after that. It’s my standard conversational pickup line, obviously. There actually hasn’t been any gayness at all really despite June being Gay Month, unless we count me making $1.50 showing my sailor bra to Anna Jane in the kissing booth at my party, but since I refunded her money because I always give that away for free anyways, it doesn’t really count. It is nice having new friends like Anna Jane, and Kylie, and it is fun to twitter that I’m drinking with Kylie and comparing notes because I am a mean girl.

Wellington continues to be – and in fact grows even more – incestuous but mostly I’m sitting on the sidelines giggling at everyone. I’ve written some mean emails to someone who maybe does or doesn’t deserve it, but they aren’t read anyway. I’ve also written naughty emails to balance out the passive-aggressiveness, because everyone likes that, right? Anji reminded me that I’d been so happy at my surprise party that I promised to not be passive-aggressive to anyone for a whole week, but that didn’t quite work out. I’m surrounded by people all the time and that’s lovely but I’m also kind of lonely sometimes but I know what it is that I want, and I can’t have it, and that’s just that.

I have one full week of work left, and then two days. I am actively applying for jobs, but there aren’t many around that I want. I want to go away to a tropical island for a while but Karen can’t get leave until August. I’m also currently fantasizing about blowing a substantial part of my redundancy payout on this bed which I suppose wouldn’t really be blowing my money away so much given that I spend so much time in bed and I’ve had this one for ten years, but I think I should maybe wait until I have a house of my own in which to put it. I’m not entirely certain I’ve taken my zopiclone tonight (or rather yesterday) since it’s 2am now and I’m not sleeping, so beds are weighing rather heavily on my mind right now. I’m going to use the time without employment to ween myself off the zopiclone very very slowly. I will miss the crazy intense dreams, but I also can’t wait to get rid of them.

Were there other things we needed to talk about? Oh yes, this:

TEN YEARS, BABY! You will come along, right? And finally, if you’re wondering what I look like right now (or rather earlier this evening), here’s a picture of me with a chip cat on my shoulder.

On my birthday last year I woke up in bed with a nice girl, and then Anji showed up and brought us coffee, we all went to brunch and then cleaned Karen’s apartment. The year before that, I was fucking relieved not to be having vagina surgery, and was possibly still really stoked to have been felt up by a boy who was one the best pashes evah the night before, we went to Cafe Istanbul for dinner and I saw the Real Hot Bitches for the first time ever. And I think that last link does a good job of summing up other years, but I will point out that on the day I turned 20 I dumped my boyfriend (ala, the ASSCUNT of twitter from the previous entry) because he wouldn’t make an effort to see me, and ten years ago, I had a really sucky 18th birthday in which people I cared about said nasty things about me because I drank and (shock horror!) smoked pot (one of those three people is now one of my best friends, one of them does far too many drugs now, and the other is in Australia) and it turns out that another one was sleeping with the guy I fancied at the time. Etc. So today’s not really being able to sleep until after 6am and all the voices in my head speaking in Scottish accents ala Anna from This Life, then workshops, dinner at Caffe Italiano and Quiz Night is really not that stand-out-y.

Has it become apparent to you via this post that birthdays are actually very important to me? I hope it has, because I’m living in a flat who fail to notice that,and it’s weird. Actually, this is the third birthday in a row tat I’ve had in which one of them will fail to pay it any attention. Oh, but, on a non-flatmate note, I haven’t had a birthday cake of my own on my actual birthday since I was 17 – until this year, when Anji and Bambi bought over a beautiful delicious cake for me with champagne bottle corks. I’ll put in photos at some stage. And also creepy video of karaoke. Karaoke was SO fucking awesome, it was such a good night, I love me some friends, and also Yvonne at Longxiang who dealt with me having 18 friends at dinner and that not even being close to all of them. I’m not always entirely sure why anyone likes me sometimes, but at dinner I totally got it and it was lovely.

Also random blah blah. Something about sex. Oh yes, the twitters on Saturday night. I’ll tell you, I am SO fucking horny right now. Like, there’s the usual depression thing of wanting to lose yourself under someone, having them thrust aside all thoughts in your brain even for a couple of minutes, the validation of having someone wrapped around you, and then there’s pre-period hormones, in which everything is a turn-on (see above quizmaster love from tonight, although of course that’s not a new thing because of course I fancy the rare people who appear to be smarter than I) and oh man oh man oh man sometimes all you can think about is getting a pounding.

Then there’s the decision that if 27 was the year of debauchery, which it hardly was, then maybe I wil make an attempt to make 28 year of health (starting tomorrow of course). Even my taxi driver tonight asked me if I suffered from Anxiety, which holy fuck yes I do. I should defend myself in saying that he asked because he had it, not because I appeared totally buttfuck crazy, honest. Anyways. Full circle. I hide in bed to avoid the world (read: flatmates going “oh, not at work today?) then hate onthe world (read: flatmates) for not doing anything for my birthday. Yes, that’s right, you can’t win with me at all, anyone. Haven’t I made that clear already? I should I suppose clarify here: I fucking miss Kat’n Kane, and Bopha and Brad, and Kateb and Clayton and Simon like, so much. I am deeply deeply nostalgic for flats of yesteryear when they were more than just a collection of individuals under one roof.

Except, you know, if you give me a good fucking right now. And that won’t happen because I am far too anxious. Joy! Yes, cycle, yes, I will get out of it. Man, I am looking forward to sleeping tonight.

Oh, and finally, have i mentioned lately that I think Sebastian is gay? There’s always bitemarks on the back of his neck. I wonder if the gay cat world has bears, because he is big and hairy. But he is also poised and handsome and constantly grooming. But the cats he talks to during the day look like twinks to me. I reckon that’s why he kept trying to do Sammy when we lived with Iva, even though Sammy was actually (sort of) female. Ahhh cat sex, that’s a good note to end on, right?

Anyways, my narrative thread, my reason for getting out of my nice warm bed to go and find my computer (my new eeePC, so so so cute) wasn’t to talk about Tom at all. I think my thread was supposed to start with how I was texting Tingle “If you want to make your life less complicated, stop replying to drunkass random dumbasses who aren’t your girlfriend” and perhaps try to explain about how we (you and I, my dear reader) got to this stage in my storytelling, but I’m not entirely convinced that it will work out that way. So perhaps I could make a bulleted list of what’s what?

* There is Good Tom because his last name starts with a G, and Bad Tom whose name starts with a B, but as to whether or not their names are deserved, I am constantly divided.

When you last heard from me, I was heading off to a house in Otaki, where the water in the ocean was warm like a bathtub, and the shelves stacked with trashy books. Behold:
.

I have been reading a lot lately. I have to mention Barbara Taylor Bradford’s dreadful book about some family dynasty, which read like a radio play, with the characters narrating all the action “Oh how well you look in that blue satin dress with the intricate lace trimming that highlights your eyes” and “oh look, there is a horse running toward us wildly and it appears that the rider has lost control”. Uggh. It was also like The Odyssey in its repetition of how handsome and brave and loyal the main character was. You know, despite his mistresses and everything.

I know that this book was not important enough in my life to warrant a paragraph like that, but I’m trying to bring back more of the trivial experiences into my writing. I don’t want Hubris to be only about my depression. But in that area, I’ve switched back to taking my meds during the day, they definitely weren’t helping me sleep. Sleep is still a weird thing, dreams are incredibly detailed and realistic-seeming, apart from random nakedness of neighbours. And sleep comes at the wrong times, after 4am, and during meetings when I’m sitting at the back of the room. I’m hoping the end of daylight savings will help me sort out a little of my body clock.

I keep planning things when I know I’m not supposed to. We’re having a wine quiz on Friday at Karen’s, email me if you want come along. At some stage we want to have a TEN THOUSAND party for The Wellingtonista because we’re getting 10,000 unique hits a month now, which is exciting. And I’ve set up The Aucklandista as well. It’s been fun being a master of my own domain. But I am probably doing too many things at once.

At Lisa’s flatwarming party this Saturday, she shoved a cock in my mouth, so later I shoved my tongue in hers. Then her temporary guest kicked me out of his bed where I’d gone to sleep because the house was full of people sleeping everywhere. Who kicks hot girls out of their beds? Exactly. When Karen, Dylan and I shared a taxi back into town, I made it all the way to my street, $47 later, but when we stopped outside of my house, I had to open the door to puke luminous green bile into the street. So classy. Also, whoever thought it was a good idea to let me have access to my cellphone when I’m drinking?

There are other things, other parties. Foot rubs in Mt. Cook, foot rubs here at home. Wine festivals in the Wairarapa. Quietish nights on the couch watching Black Books. Playing records until 6am with new friends. Anji’s flatwarming with piles of meat, dancing and pole-dancing. Being a lady-who-lunches with Martha. Trying to deal with the piles and piles of paperwork at work that is piling up. That’s not really a party though I suppose. Internet dramas. Sharing Jill NSFW’s rage at the new ALAC ads.

On the domestic front I spent Thursday cooking for an hour and a half so I felt all domesticated, but I need to clean. I do have someone coming in to fix the washing machine tomorrow though. I have Anji’s signature on a piece of paper so maybe I’ll get my bond back from Hataitai finally. Etc.

The most important thing is that I’ve decided exactly what I want for my future. Unfortunately I didn’t win the lotto, but I figure maybe I can work on parts of my dream (Read: New Media Empire) without necessarily having the huge warehouse-house on the edge of the city to house my offices, my social life and to act as a venue for the community. Maybe that bit will come after I’ve IPO’ed.

But I don’t smoke pot anymore, of course, and man, I so fucking miss that. Did you see the parts in my journal in 1999 when I used to be in my pyjamas, and someone would call, and my flatmate would be in love with them so I’d put on my grandfather’s silk dressing gown and get driven across town to go smoke with them and then go home? Good times. I wish the world was that simple right now.

Yes I know that I am full of “oh I wish that things were still that way or that way or whatever it is that I want”. And yes, I realise that might make you think that I am unhappy with the way that things are right now. I wish I could write and explain the things that are causing me drama. I have layers of privacy written into this journal, and I could make posts on different levels, or write in different spaces, put in linked footnotes, or be really obscure, but I don’t want to do that. I wish I could tell you what I dislike about my job, very specifically, but I am reduced to saying “government can be a little bit slow-moving”. I wish I could tell you what the problem is with my homelife, but I will sumarise by saying that Kat and Kane are moving out in February to go to Tauranga to be nearer to Kat’s Mum, and you can’t argue with that. But oh yes, of course it doesn’t actually matter when they’re going, as much as I love them and will miss them so much, because oh yes, that’s right, I’m BEING EVICTED. They’re terminating the lease on this house that I love so much on February 3, so I will need to be gone, and find somewhere new. I left a note for Smoo telling him about it and saying that I hoped he would come with me when I set up a new house, because I love living with him, but he’s gone to Hamilton for Xmas, so I don’t know what he’ll say and I’m a little bit scared that he’ll be all like “oh you know what? Done our dash at this flat, time for me to move on”. But I suppose if that’s the way the road goes, that’s the way the world goes.

I am trying to be very calm and very philosophical about everything in my life right now. It does not help that I have failed to go to the gym for a couple of weeks, that my alcohol intake has increased exponentially with the season, that I can’t remember the last salad that I had, that there’s a full moon and most significantly that I am down to a pill a day, if that, because apparently it is far too too hard to find five minutes to cut them up and fill my seven-day box.

So there have been more than a few tear-bouts. Like when my car got towed from the carpark near work that I’d only parked in because I’d failed to sleep and was running an hour and a half late, and that was all the coins I had. I didn’t know who to call and I didn’t want to bother anyone with my drama, but as I later suggested to my counsellor, if anyone was in my position and they failed to call me, I’d want to punch them in the head because of course I’m always there for them (so I have resolved to treat myself like I’m actually my friend, so that I will see that I am actually important and special and deserving of cherishing and nourishment – the way I view my friends but have difficulty seeign myself). So yeah, I called Shirley, and cried and cried, and through a series of navigational mishaps, we ended up driving out to Petone. I had a big panic attack – or is it an anxiety attack – in her car. My heart rate went out of control, my entire body tensed up to the point where my left side felt like it was a heart attack, my flesh tingled, and I had the most disgusting metalllic taste in my mouth. I was more successful in fighting it because I was in someone else’s company than I normally would be. And we wen to the beach, and I stood ankle deep in the cool water and tried to unclench my body, which had of course gone into total survival clenched mode.

We wandered down Jackson St forever, trying to find a place for dinner that was open which would fit us in, and finally we came across Gusto, down the opposite end from Wanda Harland. Yum! We had a cheese plate which had a brie that gooed everywhere, and antipasto with four kinds of preserved meats. The service was a little new, but very well intentioned. And after we had retrieved my car from the towing yard, $180 later, I stopped by quiz and was so upset and stressed out about my workshop the next day I hardly even noticed when the Quizmaster hugged me.

The next day I had a huge big challenge organising an interactive workshop on wikis for 50 people. I panicked and doubted myself and thought I’d fucked up room bookings when it was of course some people overstaying their time in rooms, but other than that, it went pretty good. And then after work I got drunk over dinner at Longixang with Karen and Kowhai and Lisa, and we drove out ot Martha’s shop opening and I drank more champagne and bought presents for Anji and Karen, and a bear-shaped rug that I am SO going to fuck someone on, while my fire-place video plays on the TV. Maybe I will add in photos some other time.

I didn’t write about the Wellingtonista awards yet either. Such an amazingly good night. I can’t believe that things went as well as they did. It was such a stressful period leading up to ist, but on the night, it appears that we pulled it off quite well indeed. My dress was pretty, and that;’;s what’s most important, right? and OH MY GOD Blam Blam Blam were so astonishingly good,a nd I jumped up and down and up and down and dancd and danced and then I hugged them and the whole time I was dancing I had the biggest grin on my face going “BLAM BLAM MOTHERFUCKING BLAM ARE PLAYING AT AWARDS I FUCKING HELPED ORGANISE!” (although props for the actual night must go to Mitch and Russell) and it was just so fucking lovely to know that 678 people voted, compared to 57 from last year. The Wellingtonista have filled my social calendar this year and I love them all dearly, even when they don’t read their emails properly.

And there are other things that are lovely in my life. Kat and I may have finished our Veronica dates, but the other night on our girlie date night we watched Dirty Dancing and then The Breakfast Club and I know that even when they’re gone in February, they’ll be coming back all the time for wrestling. And fuck, I so don’t want them to leave. Do you know how amazing our vege garden looks right now? I don’t want ot have to leave this house, it’s just not fucking fair. This is my home. How dare they “consider their options”? Shirley’s consoling words have been all about promising me that I’ll find a place with a better kitchen, but how will I find a house big enough to fit in all my crap? I have so much crap. My aim over the holidays is to throw out three things a day, but I dunno if I’ll get that done. Yesterday I was hungover all day from end of work drinks, with Tom buying Bollinger at Arbituaguer, and then much sake at Hede, and teapots at Alice, and more wine at Hawthorn, and today I had half a dozen people (Karen, Tom, Kowhai, Shirley, Frances, Lisa, Kat & Kane) over for drinks in the sun, which of course turned into drinks with candles outside and everyone wearing my hoodies and wow, I’m so fucking huge. My idea of spontaneous entertaining starts with texts at 10am, and then there’s bratwursts and frozen samosas and a trillion cocktails. We’re having Xmas at Mum and Neil’s, even though their deck isn’t finished (I am SO dreading the mess already) and so Karen and I went entree shopping this morning. And I have already finished the white rum, apparently. D’oh!

What more did I have to say? I am so fucking craving some physicality. I want to devour the world. So let’s end it there, yes?

When I left you last, I’d just been to Bar Camp, which was an unconference. Accordingly, I went to a conference on Wednesday at the Stadium. The catering was very average, it was cold in the room, and I was the only person wearing Threadless. Everyone else was in suits. The contrast was very striking. So was the view, as we were up in a corporate box.

I stayed for a couple of networking drinks, and explained myspace and blogging to some people – another contrast to Bar Camp – wow, it’s almost like I should set up a work blog to discuss all these themes – and then hustled my way down the incredibly long Fran Wilde walk to buy $7 worth of cashews (whoops) and be picked up by the faithful Miss Fur who already had her on firmly her jones for Julia and Sam to duet on ‘Good Woman’ at the Cook Strait Social Club. We had drinks and cashews at her house, met up with Karen and then headed down to Mighty Mighty. Handily, Hannah, Anji & her gentleman caller Bambi had already set up camp right near the stage, so we had the best seats in the house, or at least I did, after I stole Hannah’s armchair. We got talking to a lovely American girl named Ingrid, who asked Lisa about gig ettiquite in Wellington.

It turned out it was a particularly awesome intimate gig when Julia came down from the stage to apologise for not learning ‘Good Woman’, and Sam took yelled-out requests (playing ‘Going Fishing’ when that’s Luke’s song, although of course, Sam’s now officially my favourite after that whole bear suit debarcle) and laughed at us when we said “that’s not soon enough!” for an announced October 7 release date for the new Phoenix Foundation album. Emily’s mother talked to me in the bathroom, and I even got up and danced for the last song, which was The Warratahs’ ‘Hands of my heart’. I felt like it was 1989 all over again. All in all, a most excellent excellent night.

On Thursday I made dhal and then got the cleaning bug late at night and I ended up finding about five bags of rotton potatoes, some of which had liquified in the kitchen. Yum! Good smell! But at least it was all cleaned up for the impending arrival of the new flatmates. And of course being virtuous on Thursday meant that I could go out on Friday, so out I went.

I met up with Shirley at Tupelo, and we drank what was apparently their last bottle of red wine, and then had to switch to white. The double Ds came along and were happy that Mary-Kate and Ashley were there too, and eventually we were joined by Bart, before we beat a path to Scopa for pizza.

After that, we followed Bart up to the Mac’s Brewery Bar, which was about to shut (at midnight, what the hell?), and this story happened:

Shame
So tonight Dyl Dave and I go with Bart to the Mac’s Brewery for some goodbye drinks one of Bart’s friends is having. As soon as I get there, some tall boy bounds up to me. “Hi Jo, how’s it going?” I’m all “……… Hi! I haven’t seen you in ages, how are you?” He says he’s good and asks me how I am, so I exchange pleasantries. Then I’m like “So, I haven’t seen you in ages. When is the last time we saw each other again?” and he’s like “a couple of weeks ago at that bar..” and I’m like fuck, is he playing the same game I’m playing? but I suggest the Cross and he says Tupelo, and I smile and nod until he asks me where Bart is and moves off. Later, I talk to Bart, and I’m like “Okay, so who the hell is that guy I was talking to before and why the hell does he know me?”
Bart was all “That’s that guy. You know. That guy”. And I’m like “huuuuuuuuuuuuuh?” and Bart’s like”from my party” and I’m like omg really? I made out with that guy and he came in his pants as he dry-humped me? (Or not so dry). And so I stare at him from across the room and go “damn. he’s really hot. Did I really score him? Really? Because I remembered him being pretty much a loser but maybe I was stereotyping based on the Hawaiian shirt. And I tell Dyl, cos apparently that guy had Dyl’s tshirt, but then we have a disagreement about which guy at the bar we’re talking about, and Dyl’s like “No, it wasn’t that guy, it was that guy!!!!” pointing elsewhere and I’m like fuck, dammit, there goes my thinking that I’d actually score someone hot.

On Saturday morning, I got up at 10 to help Kat & Kane move in, and there was a lot of sitting in the sun talking about wrestling. Karen and Hannah and Anji came over for beers and snacks in the sun, and then I spent the evening doing pretty much nothing at all. Sunday was another blissful day like that, much time spent in bed with Q, putting up new posters and putting away washing. Last night Lisa and her new flatmate came over for dinner. I made my crackling crackle for the first time! And promptly ate most of it before it made it to the dinner table. I blame Smoo for snarfling some whilst carving. Kat brought home organic veges which were very tasty, and naturally we only managed about 15 minutes of dinner before the conversation got filthy. That Lisa, she’s just trouble. But oooh oooh, we set a date and a theme for the next party we’re having: Country Club: Back in the USSR. October 13. Be there!

Of course in order to start my new job today, I had to finish my old job last week. I was sad to leave. They gave me a lovely card and a present and said so so so so many nice things about me. We had wine and gossiped and went to Siem Reap with the account manager of the design agency we use who I used to know when I worked at VUWSA for dinner and had more wine and more gossip, and then we went to Mighty Mighty for more wine, and I saw really random graffiti on the wall in the toilet that said “I don’t have any Heroes / they are all useless” on the wall and thought “hey, that handwriting looks familiar” but I wasn’t sure because of the lack of punctuation, and also just the plain randomness of it, so I wrote the phrase on a piece of paper and got others to confirm for me that yes, unfortunately that was my handwriting. D’oh! Don’t remember that at all. Maybe it was post Great Blend.

Anyways, it was a super fun night and a lovely way to end six of the best working weeks of my life. It was – as I said to them – just like a beautiful summer romance. But getting up early on Saturday morning to go to Zinefest wasn’t so fun. My new dress arrived that morning, and I decided to wear it, which wasn’t the best decision I’ve ever made – after I set up my zine table, I went and had breakfast in Doria, then was using the church bathroom when I looked down and was like “JESUS CHRIST!” at the amount of cleavage I was showing, and I was like “oops, sorry!” looking up. And so I put my hoodie back on for most of the rest of the day. Zinefest was kind of fun, talking to new people, but I was so tired that I wasn’t very talkative. And it was strange watching people reading my zines right in front of me. Because I primarily do my dirty-talking to strangers via the interwebs, I’m not used to seeing their faces when they read it. This was much more immediate. But it was nice to see people giving me their hard-earned money, and people asking me where I stock. And now you can read my zines in the Wellington Public Library collection, if you’re that way inclined!

Then I went home for naps, and to tidy up the house, before going to pick up Lisa and Jay and Jasmine who’d already been drinking. We made the house all purty with lights, and the party began. Highlights included the tasty Martina from Auckland showing up, meeting Other Lisa’s very tall boyfriend, having a cute Dutch boy compliment my boobs a lot and then grab them a lot – and then a little while later he fell asleep on Lisa’s shoulder when we took him outside for fresh air. A Scottish brother and sister sang the national anthem together – loudly and a couple of times. Dylan told me he loved me when I “licked my own nipple”. I use quotation marks, because to tell you the truth, and all secretly now, I didn’t actually. You know that Ashley’s tip is waaaaaaaaaaay low down, and I would have had to haul myself out of the halter in order to properly do it (I can’t get close on Mary-Kate) so I settled for dipping my tongue inside my bra, and that satisfied the crowd.Lisa’s crowd sang loudly. The Scots brother broke a glass, the Scots sister broke a chair – admittedly I think it was the already broken chair. But they were hilarious and cute, so it’s okay. Everyone molested Sebastian, who responded by bringing in a live mouse that I had to take outside. I got to meet Anji’s new gentleman caller, Bambi, and Lisa squealed and jumped up and down in glee when I gave her the cake I made:

I also gave her Liam Finn’s I am Lightning but since she already had it, I offered her up my brand new Appetite for Destruction – which she gave me back in the morning saying she couldn’t take it from me. So after we’d cleaned up the house and got pizza from the Med Warehouse, we went to Real Greedy and found her CSS, and I bought The Gossip for myself, woo. And I have my ticket to their gig, so hurrah!

Okay, earlyish night for me tonight, new jobs are exhausting. So much paperwork!

First, I should tell you about my party. It was many many boxes of supplies that I lugged over to Karen’s house which involved many trips and much lugging. Things like couches, blenders, and stacks and stacks of canned goods from a long excursion to Pak’n Slave (man I hate that supermarket!) found their way up into her spacious apartment. More crap got dropped off. I spent Friday night on the couch at home with Lisa and Jay watching Twin Peaks. Mmmm Agent Cooper. I haven’t been out on a Friday night for around a million years, but I knew I would need my energy for the next day. Saturday involved Karen and I trekking around Moore Wilson’s for a long time because obviously four boxes of food and booze wasn’t enough, and then I cleaned her bathroom and we set up the house for the party. I went home to chill out, get ready, pick up al the stuff i’d forgotten (so many lists!) and grab Lani, and we went back early to make sure everything looked perfect. This is what the bar looked like at the start of the night:

Oh HELL yes! Glassware, mixers, syrups, tools, booze, garnishes, fruit, canned mixers, pear brandy champagne fixings in the blender

Karen and Lani both looked like total rockstars, as you can see in this photo:

So obviously it was time to start drinking. Intially, it was me who made most of the cocktails.

This Appletini made with Rhubarb Syrup was possibly my favourite drink of the night.

People started showing up, including Karen’s flatmate in a stunning Beyonce outfit, and Anji and her friends, and some more of my friends, bringing booze with them to add to the collecion. And then, holy crap, Dimebag and a friend showed up! I thought he was dead!

Bart and Blair are awesome like WOAH

The lovely people from the Wellingtonista showed up too, and foolishly placed themselves far away from the bar which meant that by the time I got to them with a blender full of whatever deliciousness was on offer, it was mostly empty. But they still managed to humour me through flat camera batteries long enough for me to take this picture:

I so wish that you could see Martha’s “Human” and “Being” tattoos in this photo to add to her fierceness

And here’s some more photos out of order probably.

I started sharing cocktail-making duties with this very attractive young lady who was called tAtu 1. Well, that wasn’t really her name but I kept forgetting what it really was. Later she and the boy she was with-ish showed off their genital piercings, so Bart pulled out his as well. When I heard that he was showing everyone but me I demanded a look and so I saw his weiner in the kitchen. It was indeed pierced.

There is a sixteen year old in this photo. Guess who it is? In other discussions, see how many people there are packed into the kitchen? It was pretty much like that all night, which made it rather hard to mop up after one particularly drunk gentleman, who’d been Captain McGrabby Hands all night causing some people some distress got a drink thrown in his face, and then also spilt water all over the floor. And puked in the bath, but his fiancee cleaned that up, luckily.

See all the red plastic cups? Yeah that’s right it was a special-enough occasion to break those bad boys out. And yet we still resorted to all drinking from each other’s cups without washing them. Now everyone is sick. Also, how disturbing are Bart’s cutoffs? SO disturbing, and yet so erotic!

On the stroke of midnight, I was in the kitchen making cocktails, when a very drunk Lisa who’d shown up late announced it was my birthday as it was now the 17th. I was giving someone a hug when all of a sudden everyone rushed me all at once. I was thinking it was a group hug, but it turned out it was a group hump. Apart from squealling a lot, I ended up being speechless for about five minutes afterwards. It was a GOOD kind of shock though, honest!

What else were highlights? Seeing Kartini and Mike again. Drinkign many delicious cocktails. Having Shirley there, who’s told me a couple of times since then how nice all my friends are and how they all said lovely things about me. Aww shucks. So here’s some more photos:

Check it out, it’s my old boss (from VUWSA) front’n centre. See how demonstratably employable and sociable I am? Yeah!

This was near the end of the night long after most people had left, and we sat around the table making up shakers to share.

So yes, that was my party. At the end of the night I managed to convince a young lady to come home with me, and so we played records “and stuff”. We were happy in the morning and it didn’t seem awkward but then Lani walked in on us, which means that i’ve decided that my new Matariki resolution, since I’ve achieved the waking up with someone one is to score someone in my house and not have Lani walk in on it. Sheesh, you’d think she’d knock before she walks into the lounge or my bedroom next time. Heh. So anyways, the girl texted Anji to come pick her up, so I texted Anji to bring us coffee. She jumped in bed with us and it was very amusing. Then we went for brunch at Roxy, and to clean Karen’s apartment which reeeeeeeeeeeeeeked of booze.

I was super super tired but I didn’t nap after that, I don’t think. Instead I bonded iwth my couch and the Gilmore Girls before my parents came to pick me up with Anji and Karen in tow, and we went for my birthday dinner at the Tinakori Bistro. It was BYO so I tried to drink the hangover away, and we had lots and lots of food. I got handy presents from people – a seven day pill box from Karen so now I know when I’ve taken my meds and when I haven’t, and an iPod cover to go with my early birthday present of a Nano from my parents, and Anji gave me an awesome carved hairstick, and a purple melamine tray. Karen also gave me a Wham! vinyl, and oh boy, I can’t believe people didn’t realise that George Michael was gay a lot earlier. Dinner was lovely, and I got to tease someone there a lot about someone else that they’d hooked up with the night before (key line used in anything even loosely vaguely able to be interpreted in a dirty way like “I just stuffed it in the envelope” is treated to a round of “That’s what * said!”. heheeh. Between that and the OHMYGODSOMETIMESMYYOUNGESTDAUGHTERISLIKE,ALESBIAN, my poor parents were rolling their eyes a lot. It was a lovely time.

Then what did I get up to this week? I wanted to go to Webstock Mini on Tuesday but I realised I so did not have a spare $75. We had a delightful flat dinner on Monday with much much humourous banter and Lani laughing at me and thinking that people actually know more than they’re letting on. I had a job interview on Wednesday and had to work in the afternoon because I was off sick for Monday and Tuesday with my brain trickling out of my nose. On Thursday I umm I dunno, nothing? No wait! I went to MG’s work with Alan and Sue and Martha and was seriously impressed with the cleverness of them all. We had some wine and some cheese and then went to Medina for dinner. Thanks again MG! I love the way that by describing the night in one sentence I made it sound so cilivised. Heh. When I got home I found that not only had Smoo removed the dead mouse that Seb had caught last night (I presume he ate the other one that was still alive when I ran away tearfully because the mouse kept going up to its dead friend before Seb would pull it back in again. And when I say that he ate it, I mean Seb, not Smoo. Although if Smoo wants to eat dead mice I won’t judge him) but he also cleaned the house so I was very very stoked. And of couse I’ve since messed it up again. And then on Friday Lisa and I hung out with Agent Cooper some more.

Yesterday Shirley and I went for brunch at the Maranui Surf Cafe, and a lack of tables led us to sit outside and freeze to death happily over our deluxe fish burgers. Then we decided to throw a mini cocktail night to try and finish off the booze leftover so I didn’t have to find a home for it all in the overful cabinet. We invited Lisa and Bart over, and Smoo was off work which was exciting, and of course Blair showed up as he tends to do all the time. We had tasty Grasshoppers, and Lisa updated my journal for me, and umm, good times. Lisa and Shirley are making fun of me for something, but that is okay. And today I’m at my parents’ house doing laundry and eating their food. I was supposed to be working on my zine, but hte file corrupted over email, apparently. So instead I’m watching terrible reality TV. But I think my second load is dry, so I might take off now. Woo ha!

After work on Tuesday, Karen and I went to jump into the ocean by the lagoon. Something went wrong with the way I was holding my head as I jumped off the plank though, and as I plunged into the water I felt as if I was receiving an enema through my nose. Not a pleasant feeling at all, I tell you. In fact, it made my throat and ears ache, and made me feel really sick. Add to that the teenage boys yelling “stingray!” at each other, and then the something solid that brushed my hand that made me swim and hide behind Kar, and when she saw a jellyfish I was well ready to get out. So I texted the divine Miss Fur and she came to pick me up and we went to the fish’n chip shop in Lyall Bay then drove out of the sun to go eat on the pier by my secret beach.

On Thursday Anji and I went to a pilates class at our gym for the first time. It seemed easy enough while we were doing it, although I got trembling holding my left leg in the air for so long, but afterwards, my abs were screaming. Oh yes, I apparently have abs. And for the rest of that night and all of Friday I felt like I was wearing a corset, I was so aware of them. I drove out to the airport to pick up Lani and three of her giggling friends who are staying with us, and then Lisa came to get me again for the Julia Deans (that’s her from Fur Patrol for those of you not in the know) solo accoustic gig at Happy. We got there shortly after 9pm, and were told it wasn’t on til 10 so we went to Karen’s house and made fun of her for a while before going back. Man oh man was I tired. Ryan Prebble didn’t start playing until after 11, and even though I’m sure he’s a lovely man and that some people were into his music, I started having fantasies about his guitar strings breaking as he was twanging them so hard and cutting him and him bleeding out and dying on stage so that Julia could start sooner. And then the taste in my mouth let me know that I’d actually fallen asleep for half a minute. But when Julia finally started singing, ti was all worthwhile. She did lots and lots of new stuff, no old Fur Patrol, and ‘Freak show’ and wow, her voice sure is stunning. The annoying part was that someone had brought along a baby, who cried. What the fuck? Yes, the baby was wearing ear muffs, and yes, apparently the mother was known to Julia who stopped and said “I know it’s not the volume cos that baby’s been to Shihad gigs!” but hi, you are not Gywneth, and this is not Live8 (and no one should ever aspire to be Gywneth anyways, because dude, could you pick a more bland milksoppy role model? Maybe Andie Mcdowell. But still.). I can put up with screaming kids at the beach because I suppose I do swim by the kids’ playground so I’m asking for it, but I don’t care if Happy was the first smokefree bar and it was fairly quiet, children are totally inappropriate in that context. Yes sir. But yes, apart from that, good times. I thought about how I can totally see the way I’m replacing you in the role that you used to have, and how even though I know what I’m doing is dumb it’s going to happen anyway, but meh, maybe I will go with this week’s counselling work whereby instead of being all “I should be doing this or that” or whatever, I can be all “I am making a choice to do blah blah blah”. I totally dig on how she gets my semantical issues.

Because Lani’s friends were sleeping in the lounge when I got home I couldn’t have my usual unwinding time with the television when I got home, so I couldn’t get to sleep for ages so Friday morning I was dreadfully dreadfully tired, but hopped up on excitement about the forthcoming weekend. After work I went to the ministry social club drinks where Lani introduced me to her friends – many of whom know my father, and I laughed at where a couple of the boys apparently thought my eyes were. I suppose the Mary-Kate and Ashley locket I was wearing that Martha made me buy at Craftwerk did help to draw the eye down to Mary-Kate and Ashley, which was of course totally the point. But it made me feel appreciated. Yes. I only stayed for one glass of wine though, because I ahd to go home to eagerly await the arrival of KateH and Shirley, hurrah! We had a couple of bottles of bubby while doing much gossip catch-up, and it was lovely. A couple of times I felt a bit weird, because I always used to be better friends with both of them than they were with each other, but of course now I live in Wellington and they don’t, so they have all these stories about people I don’t really know and tales to tell about nights together and I was just like “waah, left out”. But Shirley has just moved to Palmy now to finish her grad dip, so the balance will be restored again. Muahaha. We’d planned to go out to dinner but instead I fished bolognaise out of the freezer while they went for more wine. Then we went to Fia’s birthday party, and I didn’t check the address so we wandered around the top of Ghuznee St for ages trying to find a number that didn’t exist, being invited to student parties playing Metallica before I checked my phone and saw I had two digits wrong. So we got there in the end. Mostly I just talked to Karl and Amber, and laughed at the very very drunk very very young lady who tried to hit on both Shirley and KateH because she was missing her girlfriend. When we were in the taxi home I rang Lisa and decided to go to her house to panda-dance, so the girls went home to watch taped Daily Shows which Shirley didn’t like and is therefore off my weddding guest list.

It was a Saturday the next day, strangely enough, but much like last weekend when I didn’t get to sleep in because I went to the Petone fair with Shayne and Lani to see the wonderful Sue and Martha, I had to get up early to make the most of the day. This meant Shirley, KateH and I taking the bus in to the Cuba St Carnival, leaving like before 11am! I know right, haaaaaaaaaardcore. We were as awake as lemurs. Even though I’m sure it got much more crowded as the day went along, Cuba St was buzzing, and I was so fucking proud to be a Wellingtonian. I was also stoked that all of my “I am the boss of the weather and it will be sunny tomorrow!” blustering had paid off and it was still and baking. We wandered around for an hour or so, People’s Coffee from Plum in hand (I actually don’t really like it. Stink), and KateH bought a top, I found a hat that actually fit my huge head in Frutti so I bought that, and Shirley got a hat too. We also popped into Slowboat to see Ev, and now she probably thinks I am insane. Nevermind. Then it was just after 12 and we’d seen everything so I decided we should go home to get my car and go to my secret beach. So we did. KateH and Shirls were all “oooh eeek arrrgh too cold!” so they sat on the beach and read “Next (heh), while I had a bloody nice swim.

Lani and her friends were on salad duty, which cut down on my prep work for Country Club: Australia rather substantially. I went to the supermarket for beer (VB) and assorted snarlers and charcoal and ice and so on and so forth while Shirley and KateH did the dishes. We made dips, filled up a tub with ice and beer and then I turned our washing line into a pavilion in the style of Spiceworld (remember? In the grounds of the big old spooky house and they’re all wearing different coloured bathrobes, sucking chuppa chups and planning how to set up Debra and Clifford) with the help of a large couch cover, some pegs, some lime green netting curtains and assorted mattresses, pillows and lanterns. It looked bloody marvellous by the time I was done, even if it didn’t provide quite as much shade as I’d hoped. The absolutely fantastic Jimmy turned up and for a very long time it looked like he was going to be the only boy there, so he had to Make Fire by himself, although I stood around and fetched beer. Luckily Dave showed up to be manly with him. I had a period of total Hostess Anxiety because the bbq was going slowly so we thought we might have to cook some things indoors, and I didn’t know what, or when or how, and Lani’s friends were in the house so I thought if we took the food outside they might not get anything, and my friends Anne and Frances were in the kitchen preparing respectfully shrimp and falafel and I wanted to talk to everyone at once and make sure that everythign was going okay and the ghetto blaster on the stairs kept skipping on the mix CD Lisa brought (AC/DC and Powderfinger and Icehouse and Midnight Oil and the Vines and Jebidiah etc) aaaaaaaaargh freak out! So I made a choice to just sit down and have another beer. And things got much easier from then on in. I grilled some venison burgers indoors and the shrimp and falafel were fried, and people ate, and the boys tended the bbq most faithfully and more people came adn the sun went down, and ahhhh bliss. Lisa left for a while to go see the Phoenix Foundation play, and Lani and her friends took off, so it was just my posse hanging out. Instead of eating the pavlova I’d bought to be controversial, we toasted marshmallows and pears over the coals and the sugar cominded with the mango margaritas once the beer ran out made me incredibly fucking hypo. I jumped around and danced in the garden to CDs that reminded me of Volcanic and also the Pulp Fiction soundtrack that soundtracked my first-ever pash, and was just very very amped to go back into town to meet up with Shirls and KateH who’d left earlier and see the Battacuda Sound System, or whatever the correct spelling is.

We managed to squeeze six of us into Miss Lisa’s car so we could drop Frances home, and so Kar and Dyl and I were dropped off by Manners Mall to head up to Swan Lane to the big stage and crowds. I was still VERY VERY HYPER and yes, I am writing much like I was talking and jittering. It was fun. While we were waiting for the band to start the boy from the Great Blend showed up, so we chatted for a bit and it was nice to see that contrary to the stoogling results I’d turned up, he is actually just a secret ginga. Heh. Battacuda were SO MUCH FUN! I danced like a crazy person and so my calves are still aching today, because apparently dancing on concrete is not as soft and accomodating as you might think it could be. If you were stupid. I was all very hyped up so we went to Havana after, and danced some more. KateH and Shirley went home but Dyl was all let’s stay out! so I did, and then after one more drink both him and Kar were like “tired now, let’s go” and I was like you guys are DICKS. But there was a taxi right outside the door, and so that was handy. I told Karen to remember it was a black’n gold one, and texted her when I got home fine. I wasn’t that drunk, but I’m trying to form good habits in case of insane drunkenness at a later date. Ahh taking care of myself, nice work.

When I woke up on Sunday I felt like I’d been hit by a truck, what with the calves, and the pimple just inside my nose, and the cut on my foot and the scratches from Sebby who was a little unnerved by the masses of people at the BBQ – so much so that he almost didn’t want to eat steak – but he dragged it away to eat in private and emerged much calmer – and all, but I still managed to get showered and dressed and to take the girls to the Maranui Surf Cafe for breakfast. We had to wait for aaaaaaaaaaaaages to get a table and then for our food but it was well worth it because dude, Wellington is so fucking rad. I dropped KateH in town after that and said sad goodbyes to Shirley who had to return to Palmy for her first day of school today. I spent the afternoon lying in the pavillion reading Prep (so good! although I expected more sex and panties from a book set in a boarding school) and then bonding with my couch and HDD once the wind got too strong. I did a mountain of dishes and threw away salads and prawn heads, but cleanup wasn’t too bad thanks to the wonders of disposable plates. I discovered that Smoo wasn’t actually dead in a gutter but had instead gone to Hammy with Bart for the weekend. When they got back they came over to bbq up the leftovers. But it turns out that Jimmy is teh BBQ King and they can’t even touch him. Much like Hammer. While Bart trying to catch flaming pieces of paper with his bare hands was somewhat entertaining, we resorted to cooking on the stove instead. Smoo ate about a thousand chops, so KateH and I were looking forward to seeing Bart polish off a whole pavlova, but that didn’t happen, sadly. So there is still some passionfruit pav with Kiwiberries (so weird!) in our fridge if you are hungry. Okay? Okay.

Today I got up early to take KateH to the airport, but she fetched me coffee while I was in the shower so I love her for that. And that’s about all I have to say for now, I think.

Then it was 6.30, so Lisa and I went up to the Boatshed for the Great Blend. It was too hot inside, so I got a glass of wine from the ladies at the bar who got nicer and nicer as the night went on, and while I shuddered at the fact that they only had Chardonnay, at least it was unoaked, but I will still blame it for my feeling so seedy today, and we ran away to sit in the shade outside and await Martha and talk about Hanson for some reason. We couldn’t think for ages of what the name of the ugly one was, and Lisa called him Baboon Face. I said that if there was a Q&A session in the talks, and they said did anyone have any questions, I would stand up and say “what is the oldest Hanson brother called? Can you tell me? No you can’t, because you don’t know, you don’t knooow oh oh oh” and then I laughed at myself lots, partly because I had some wine at work before I left. As it happens, Lisa was right and his name was Issac, which I didn’t think it could be because there was a Zack, but that’s short for Zachary. And then we went to meet Martha. I was briefly dismayed at how quickly she brushed me aside to go and meet a puppy-eater, but she came back and fufilled her BFF duties. Plus, she introduced me to fun people like Sally and Sue. And Glen bought me a glass of wine when I already had one, so I quickly looked a lot like a lush. Which is of course not at all how I really am. I talked to Tom and Kim about the magical transforming properties of a lei to make one fit in a tiki environment, and made fun of Stalker. The Back of the Y stuff was hilarious, and it was interesting to see what they’d done for MTV in the UK and how it was exactly the same stuff but much more expensive. I remembered watching it when I was living in Mt Roskill and thinking how awesome it was. I laughed a lot. The second panel was not quite as interesting to me, so I spent a while whispering stupid things to Sarah like “you have to marry one person on the panel – who is it?” (the answer is of course the guy who works for Google, cos duh, rich), before I decided to take myself outside and stop annoying her. So I talked to Joel for ages about what year a particular magazine was worse. We had very different opinions.Mostly I just drank and told everyone how much I wanted to jump off the plank. Sue told me she liked my blog and I was like “!!! I don’t have a blog!” but she redeemed herself instantly by saying that she had ordered the same swimsuit as me because it is so awesome. I introduced myself to Russell and also asked Che about his heart. Good times. The bar ladies seemed to love me even more. In fact, I’m pretty sure that everyone was digging my vibe. Eventually I slipped into the bathroom and slipped into my togs again, so when I left with a group of people I’d just met (I think), I strutted over to the plank and plunged in, followed by Sally. Hurrah! Night swimming is the most awesomeness. Sue carried my bag down to the lower dock for me, and I got changed in public. Lovely.

Then we went to Mighty Mighty and once again more good times were had. I wasn’t even embarrassed seeing Baby Hitler there and remembering how I’d asked him to dance and told off the DJ. Feeling good about yourself really does have positive flow on effects, it’s quite perplexing. I mean, it’s entirely possible that everyone did think I was a dick, but I don’t think so. I had lots of fun. On an extension of that topic, a while ago someone tried to insult me by leaving the comment “but I was just expressing my dismay at your blog [sic]; the purpose of which seems to documenting your desperation for a meaningless pash” and I was like “umm… duh! That’s the whole point of having an online journal, right?” – so in that vein I should declare that I “shared a taxi” home with a boy, which meant he had to wait with me on Ghuznee St while I called a Combined Taxi and babbled about my bad experiences with other companies. Later on the boy told me he saw my left boob when I was getting changed on the dock, which struck me as a most amusing thing to say, and then I laughed at him for a while teasing him about how he didn’t evne know what my name was – before I admitted I couldn’t think of what his was either. And tonight I bought Smoo pizza to make up for the fact that he said he’d gone to sleep with his eaphones in playing music and yet we’d still woken him up. Heh.

Maree emailed me this afternoon to rave about the article in Next with me in it that has apparently come out now, but all I could find was the February issue, not the March one. She said I sounded intelligent and that the photo was gorgeous. Hurrah! That made things more gooder today. I was grateful that I had many mindless web updates to do (adding in div id=”page” tags to about 20 pages and so forth) because I was somewhat tired and not feeling in the best health. I also seem to have bruises on every part of my body, a hole in the bottom of my foot, a cut-up toe from last Friday night when I peed under the X-Air hump, and a lump in my arm. I also had a couple of knots in my hair about the size of my fist that took half an hour of brushing to get out. I like salt water in my fringe, but man, I really should have combed my hair a little more often this week. Tomorrow Lani’s moving in, hurrah ,and then I am going to Ngaio for my Mummy’s birthday party. All in all, things are pretty fucking awesome. Everyone loves me. Including me, right now.

Monday was of course Anniversary Day, and I’d realised the night before when I was starving that Anji still had my car, so I got her to come over and pick me up and we went to Elements for brunch. After dropping her off in Newtown and grocery shopping, I spent too much time fucking around at home reading the paper so that by the time I got my ass out to the south coast the sun was hiding and the wind had come up something fierce. Nevertheless, I plunged into the ocean and spent 15 minutes or so kicking and flailing frantically to keep my legs and hands from going numb while floating up and down on some pretty fiercesome waves. It was fucking fun, but ohmygod so fucking cold.

I can’t remember the rest of the day, which suggests that it wasn’t all that. I do know that there was spinach & cashew pesto involved somehow, and perhaps a steak, although perhaps that was the next day. And celery! I’ve never prepared celery before (because wow, it’s so hard topping and tailing it and vaguely stick-ifying it!) but I felt like a salty treat and thanks to Jane‘s article about better foods to crave during a hangover or PMS (that is the awesome thing about Jane – it’s not all “boiled egg, wholemeal toast, steamed lettuce” diet, it acknowledges that you’re a human being and will drink until you puke – and then gives tips for how to feel better in the morning) I knew that celery was salty.

The next day, I was supposed to go to work again, but after sitting on the edge of my bed for half an hour being unable to reach out and grab the clothes that were an arm’s length away because I just couldn’t, I had to give in and text my manager and tell her I needed a mental health day. In fact I ended up feeling really fucking nauseous anyway. I did have a counselling session at 1.30pm, so I kept that, and holy fuck, that was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I found that I was talking without cohesion, and that really annoyed the narrator in me, because while I was throwing out a series of ideas about things that may have been linked, I didn’t feel like I was making the links clear, but I think she knew what I meant. We discussed the semantics of things again, with me not knowing the word that I thought I should use, and she declared it without a second of hesitation, and I was like aaaargh, and then I laughed at my body language, the tension in me, and we were laughing at the end at something completely inappropriate, but fuuuuuuck, it was a hard time. And part of me doesn’t even want to write about it here, even this obliquely, but i want to keep it as a record. And why do anything in private? If only I hadn’t left that mp3 player on the plane, I could podcast my counselling sessions. Heh. Wow, that’d be comfortable for all parties involved. And yeah, you’d get to hear me cry some more.

I was worried after my manager’s text about needing to talk the next day, but of course I shouldn’t have been, because when I told her what was going on, she was lovely (as of course a sane person would have realised anyway), and I said that I expected to be straighted out and normalised by the end of the week, but what I needed most was more work to do. As it happens, I seem to have actually achieved a lot this week, making many changes to the website, and taking on new projects, and also making my cow-orkers laugh quite a few times. Today I helped three people set bookmarks in their browser, which made me go “Really?” but I suppose not everyone has a tertiary qualifcation in Multimedia.

When I got home on Wednesday Smoo had cleaned the house and I nearly cried at that, but instead I decided to tackle the huge pile of dishes, and then scrub the bathroom. Briar helped me by drying, and it’s nice that she’s moving out so amicably to go and flat with her brother, and that while she’s taking her bookshelf which fits my books perfectly, she is leaving me her blender because she has another brand new one, and she knows how often i use it, so hurrah for that!

Yesterday I went for dinner with Karen and Anji at Siem Reap and we plotted Mum’s birthday present. We were going to send them to Martinborough for her birthday weekend, but we might send them up to the Wairarapa Food & Wine Festival instead on the 17th of March, except that it sounds like so much fun we’re looking at booking a house that can sleep five and tagging along on their romantic weekend. Heh.

Today after work, much to my disgust I went to the Loaded Hog to meet up with D&D, because Dave’s cow-orker was having goodbye drinks there or something. There was no sun so it was cold outside on the balconey, but coronas were two for $7.50, and when I only ordered two and was polite the bartender said that he loved me and that I was his favourite as it was crowded with stupid rude demanding people. Then when we went to Boulot Gabe welcomed us with happy new years and cheek kisses, and addressed me as “Pretty”. Awww. Bart and Blair joined us for a bit, and pizza was eaten and shit was talked. You know, the usual kind of Friday stuff. When I left I got a taxi with a green sign, and made sure that I repeated the name of the company – Amalgamated – to myself several times. I didn’t talk to the driver either, even though that felt somewhat unnatural, but it made me really fucking angry last week when I was telling my friend about how a taxi driver had groped my leg as I was paying right before Xmas, and the friend was like “were you flirting with him?” and I was like “NO!” but the point was that even if I had been, which I wasn’t, he still had absolutely no right to do that, and I wasn’t to know that I was putting myself in a bad situation when I thought I was taking the safe option home. My counsellor agreed with me that it’s okay if I decide to only use Combined from now on and call one if there’s not one on the rank, and I decided that as long as I try to make sure I don’t discriminate in other areas, the number of bad experiences that I have had with a particular kind of taxi driver means that am I well justified in trying to avoid them. That said, my cab tonight was only $8.70 when it’s usually like $13. Go Amalgamated! And if I remember to call them on 3888 4000, then I can call and complain should I need to as well. I know I am ranting, so I will return to my 90210 dvds now. But I will say that tonight I am in love with Cold War Kids’ “Hang me out to dry”, and if you have perhaps been living in a basement worried abotu an atomic bomb for the past 35 years, look up “dick in a box” on Youtube. That is, of course, mostly a suggestion for D&D who apparently actually read my journal and I never knew until tonight. Party.

xojo

Yes, I’m all about the big issues today. I had lunch with my ex cow Frances, and we talked about stoogling, which is my HOT NEW BUZZWORD and I made it up and it means stalking via google. Of course. Yesterday I had dinner at Arashi with Karen and Anji and we talked about ummm I can’t remember what. Afterwards I thought about going to Frindigo but found my couch and my new Xmas lights were more appealing, although I did consider going so I could blank people, because what’s the point in being mad at people if they don’t know about it? Instead I am going to the Matterho tonight for birthday drinks for Kart, and tomorrow I am actually going to go to my Ministry’s Xmas party, despite the fact that I probably will know few people. I suppose this is one way to get to know people. But before that we have our team lunch at Logan Brown, and then on Friday our Comms planning day with lunch at Dojo, and on Saturday our agency’s Xmas party at the bowling club. Hurrah!

Speaking of work, I recently discovered that a guy I’ve been going “I’m sure I know him from somewhere” actually comes from NZM, which makes me happy because I thought I knew him via Skank, and I didn’t want to have to ask him if that was how. Turns out he asked me instead. Yesterday I spent the whole day having Orientation (they do two Orientations a year for everyone new in the past six months), which started off with a lovely Powhiri and now I know the English translation of Tu Teramai Nga Iwi, although we sang it in te reo. It was kind of funny because someone went to teach it to us, and all the macronised letters were missing, but we figured out what it was and everyone around my age knew it already from primary school. I’m still a little flustered by the hongi though, because everyone does it differently – some with foreheads and some without, and some with a cheek kiss and some without, and oh, just the confusion. We should have an official hongi style guide. And I love that this paragraph will make not much sense to people from outside of NZ, but if you’re curious, please email me and ask.