Hubris.co.nz

Oh look, now that I have handed in my behemouth (read: three times my usual word limit) article on my favourite band for Pulp (and I hope you’ve already gone out and bought the one with Zach Braff on the cover, cos it’s got about six things I wrote in it, and I’d really like you to, kthanx), I have some headspace to devote to my own website. Of course that doesn’t actually mean I have much to say, besides the usual rants and raves about being lonely.

I miss flatting with friends. My house is nice and all, but y’know, I just don’t get no hugs. And I really like hugs. I do get snuggles though from my very clever brave hunter who caught his first mouse yesterday and brought it inside to his food plate before I realised what was happening and threw it outside – where he proceeded to joyfully toss it up and down and around and around. How come killing things is so damn cute? And in other questions I want to know the answer to: which of you guys is it running Oh The Scandal? I’m recognising more than a few of those stories…

Last Saturday night I went to a party at Karen’s apartment. It was her flatmate’s masquerade 19th birthday, and as such, it was full of young gay boys and skinny fag hag girls who work in retail. I dressed up as a pirate – no one else did, which made me laugh. Needless to say the music was pretty
fucking hideous, but Karen and I just sat on the couch drinking bellinis and mocking so it was alright. Some of the people were lovely – I got accosted by a guy who works behind the MAC counter who told me to come in and get some decent brushes so that my eye makeup wouldn’t be so clumpy (I tried explaining that it was from the 100 yen store in Tokyo ten years ago), and also suggested I should start wearing individual false eyelashes – to which I replied that I don’t generally even comb my hair before I leave the house. Ahh well. He told me that I shook my booty much better than anyone else there – which is of course totally true.

In forty minutes or so we have work drinks to farewell Kristen. I’m anticipating not feeling very well tomorrow, as is generally the case after drinking at work. Speaking of work drinks, let me start another rant about how much I’m hating men lately. For starters, there’s all the stupid people on myspace.com who want to be my ‘friend’ without knowing anythign about me at all other than what was my favourite picture of my nipples. Then there’s the guy at Zebos last Sunday night, who looked like JeremE. Now, we were there for our work Xmas party, so it was pretty early, like 9pm or so, on a Sunday, let me remind you, so there was no real drunken-end-of-night excuse. Anyways, I went to the bar to get some more drinks and this guy started going “oh, vodka lime and soda, you have to be careful of that drink”. Now see, vls is a drink that I absolutely can’t get drunk on, so I’m like, you fucking pussy, and then he started going on about how I should try a rum, lime and soda, and so I was like “but rum comes back to get me the next day” and he was like “but it’s nice” and me being nice figured I’d just smile and nod and be friendly, so I was like “and I guess the good thing about drinking rum is that you get to pretend you’re a pirate” and he just gave me a totally blank look, so I was like right, doesn’t like pirates and there’s a cute lovely boy in the other room who I want to get back to, this guy isn’t going to get much more of my time of day. He asked how my night was going and I said we were having a work party for the magazine and he was like “oh you guys have been going for a couple of years now haven’t you?” and I was like “ummm, yeah, 73″ (although actually I think it’s 64) and he asked me what I did and I said I was the advertising manager and he was like “ooh you could make thousands of dollars” like seriously, and I was like “well it’s (such&such) media, so yes, I do literally make thousands of dollars – and that’s it” and then I couldn’t take it anymore so I left. Dick. Okay, so he was mostly harmless, but I’m just annoyed because why the fuck can’t someone decent take a shine to me for once? I have witty sparkling wit and charm to share. Y’know? Sheesh. All I’m asking for is a pash.

And now it is January the 6th, and that’s lucky cos it means I get to avoid telling you about the handjob I gave my friend that night. So skipping the rest’o New Years Eve, KateH arrived in Whakatane late on New Years Day, and Brad her and I spent the evening lounging around polishing off the rest’o everyone else’s beer adn reading magazines. It was lovely chill time. And then on the 2nd, when people got up, and I got to sleep by myself, instead’o with three snoring boys, one of whom stopped touching me as soon as he came, (selfish!), but anyways, that’s entirely beside the point. But I was bursting to tell someone, so I was very very very relieved when Tom finally got off his ass and rang me there so I could have a decent gossip. Wait, hang on, that was the night of the 1st. On the 2nd, Brad took us on his famous tour’o The’Tane, including wading on Ohope Beach, adn then the biggest icecreams in the world for $1.50 apiece. KateH and I had amusing conversation like; Me: “he kept looking down my top all night” – Kate: “well, what top were you wearing?” – Me: “yeah, but that’s not the point!”. I also made other rather crude remarks about her family. Sorry Katie, but I know you said bad shit about me that I just can’t remember. Blah blah blah. Later that night, we got three bottles of wine and went out to dinner where the service was TERRIBLE – “oh, we can’t take your order right now cos the kitchen is too busy with that big table” but the company was terrific and I managed to make both Brad and Kate’s jaws drop because I fucking HAD to spurt out my little story, because jesus, almost 48 hours? Do I LOOK like a mute to you? And then we had shakers at the Irish pub until this guy kept staring at Kate so we had to leave, adn went to the other bar in Whakatane, where this carnie approached us and kissed our hands and I was like “Dude, you know it’s not actually sunny any more outside eh” and KateH was like “are you wearing your sunnies on your head to keep back your hair?” cos he was totally going bald, and he started going on and on about were we vets, cos he hated vets, etc etc, and we were like “????”. And then he said to me “hey, nice tits” and I was like, “thanks, I grew them myself” ajnd that gave Kate the chance to go “oh, so you don’t like mine? Well you can just FUCK OFF THEN buddy” and she got rid of him, and she can pretend it’s because we wanted to get rid of him, but really, we all know that I have far nicer breasts than Katie, so ha ha ha. Ha.

The next day, Brad had to go back to work, so eventually, after I ahd to endure hours of “Aladdin and the King of Thieves” on TV waiting for Katie to come back from the radio station, Kate and I drove to Hamilton, via Burger King and Rotorua. She let me stop off to go wading somewhere along the way, but she wouldn’t let me get a float from Macdonalds, so instead I got total Passenger Arm instead, and screamed at roundabouts. And then Mazzy Star made us cokefloats in her new house in Hammy, so that was cool, and we went to Briscoes cos it was airconditioned and I didn’t buy any bed linen, and then I took the bus back up to auckland.

Then on the Saturday, me and Megan and Peter went out. Lumiere has yummy cocktails. Peter sucks at playing High-Low, unless your definition of it is taking 40 drinks to get across the cards. Megan is very amusing. Deschlers was shut at 2.30am and I nearly cried. Sunday was boring, and I put my bed together adn tried to sort out my room. Today I got to work at 10.30am, and (umm fuck, did I have a psuedoname for her?) the girl I work with and I had a rather lengthy lunch and then after work she came here and we demolished a couple of bottles of wine, gossiped and I cooked risotto for her and Peter. And so now that’s like, NOW. And I’m up to date. Kickass me. OH! And hi, have you sent me a package lately? because according to megan, there was an envelope in my letterbox for me one day when she went to work, and when she came home it was gone. Mystery! xojo.

I handed in my letter’o resignation today. It felt really good.

When I was walking back to The Slab after work where I’d parked my car, a guy on a bicycle said “Sexy!” at me so I scowled at him, and then he stopped and asked me for directions to High Street, so I thought maybe I’d misheard him, and then as he rode off, he said “you’re still really sexy” so that was a little odd. I smiled after that though.

I swear, if my ex landlady calls me ONE MORE TIME I will totally lose it. In fact, I’d almost be willing to forfit the whole $1200 bond she owes us if I could have a guarantee I’d never have to encounter her ever again.

Megan is super cool. We still need a fourth flatmate. Megan is serving at my work Xmas party tomorrow, and then at the Shortland St function at Ammy’s work tomorrow night. We’re so good to her.

I still haven’t come to terms with the fact that it’s less than a week til Xmas. I feel decidedly unfestive.

Saturday November 4th, 2000

I’m queing for the toilet again and am just about to go in, when Kate B rushes up to me and is like “don’t go to the bathroom, come to the balloon room!!!!”

So she takes my hand and we run down the long shiny silver corridor into the kitchen, people clustered around red cabinets and I notice this hole in the wall. It’s about a metre square, and Kate’s clambering into it from a wooden chair, so I follow her. The hole is a tunnel almost a meter long, and it feels a little bit like Cube so I’m a trifle aprehensive, but the sides of the tunnel are padded with bubble wrap, which is cool. Then I emerge at the other side, surveying this huge room filled with black balloons, lit by some UV light somewhere, and a TV glaring blue in the corner. I slide down onto a leather chair, and dive under the masses of balloons. To my great excitement, I discover the the whole room is paved with mattresses. Kate and I don’t stop laughing for like ten whole minutes. We frolic and play, tossing balloons up in the air or occasionally diving on top of them. I’m pretty tired, so I burrow my way down (the balloons are waist high) and think about how nice it would be to sleep in there. There’s random heads all over the place and I have no idea how many people are under the balloons. There’s a wet patch in one corner which I hope is just a spilt drink. It’s a marvellous place – it reminds me of the ball pits at Rainbow’s End, but updated for the older generation who are out of their minds. I hide for ages, while Kate and her friend fossick around for me, calling out “Jo? Jo? where are you Joanna?” before eventually rising up, scattering balloons everywhere going “RAAAAAAH!”.

But I knew that I couldn’t stay in the balloon room forever, so eventually I surface, and clamber out of the room, still giggling at home cool it was. I wander into the dance room and dance for a while before I decide to go investigate people further. I think that I was looking for the guys wearing Ghostbuster style backpacks, but I didn’t find them. Instead I found myself in another lounge, lit by glowing bubbling columns, where a laptop was hooked up to a projecter, shooting crazy crackling spirally graphics onto a bed sheet pinned to the opposite wall. This room’s playing lighter music so I dance by myself for a bit, before curling up on a couch to stare at the graphics. I’m sorry, I keep cutting in and out of past and present tense, so maybe you should just pretend I’m doing it to be hip. Anyways, so I’m staring at the graphics when in come a couple of people. This girl introduces herself as Rhiannon, and so I have Fleetwood Mac running through my head. She tells me that she was me at the last party, just staring at the screen until it burnt into her eyes, and introduces me to the guy responsible for it. He used to live in the flat – we were in his old bedroom even – but he moved out to move in with his g/f. I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to move out of that house, it was so cool. It made @Garland seem inadequate! Rhiannon made me get up and dance again, to some heinously cheesy music, so eventually I wandered off again. I’m not too sure where I went.

Kate kept going through my bag looking for my hipflask, and in return I kept going through her bag after her black cherry lipgloss. Normally, I don’t rate Bodyshop products very much (the shops smell lovely, but I reckon it’s faked, just like the KFC scent), but this s tuff is the complete shit. Anyways. Eventuallly I went back to the Screen room, and was watching, when this guy came in and so I struck up a conversation with him. He was the marketing manager of Durasel – you know, that stuff you put on books. We were talking about flatmates for some reason, and he was like “and you don’t screw the crew” so I blushed, and he was like “no, you didn’t! it’s the golden rule!” and he started yelling at me so I just laughed. Last week i was at lunch with Kate H and Brad, and for some reason I was trying to persuade Brad to give Clayton head (i can’t remember why, but I’m sure there was a really valid reason) and so I was like “come on Brad – the flat that lays together stays together” and then both him and Kate H were staring at me going “umm Joanna” and I was like “yeah okay, shut the fuck up, bad example”. But that was a weird side diversion story.

Actually, I’m getting tired of telling every single little detail of the party. There were some strange pickup lines including “Why haven’t I seen you before – or were you ignoring me?”. I got stalked from room to room by this ugly guy in a singlet. Johnno showed up while I was lying by myself back in the balloon room so I talked to him for a bit, which was neat. I talked to one of the hostesses of the party, a nd found out there were six hundred balloons, all filled off a dive tank. I danced to happy hardcore by myself. The lightswitch in the bathroom was finicky. I will never forget the balloon room. Kate Johnno and I eventually left around about 4, by which time everyone else was gone and they were shutting down. It was brilliant.

“actually I have no urge to travel at all”

Friday 15; January, 1999

BIG DAY OUT BABY!!!!!!

So yeah, woke up early to make sure all the stuff was packed. I’d shaved my legs the night before, with a blunt razor, so that I could wear a short skirt. Or a dress, a slip, AND a pair of shorts, just cos I’m not used to wearing short skirts and I figured I’d be more comfortable that way. Plus a sports bra – of course. Ohhh I know – I’ll go steal a picture of me from Annette. Gosh I’m stunning!

Yeah. So that’s me. Cropped cos it’s slightly more flattering that way. I’m so vain. Annette’s friends told me they loved my dress. So did some strangers who were standing next to me in the que to get in. We had a big long chat actually. . That was pretty cool. It was $10 from some shop on K’Road and I was SO stoked when I found it. It’s like my favourite thing to wear, along with my styley sunglasses, also seen in that picture. Anyways, back the the plot, huh?

I took along my ‘US MARSHALLS’ coat that I won from United Video, but then decided to leave it at Shirley’s when someone pointed out that if it rains, it rains and I’d get wet either way. Besides the coat was ugly, uncomfortable, and sported great big logos on it. So yeah, it would have been a bad move to have worn it.

We went met up with the Wholesome Tutorial Dsters at Shirley’s house, so that we could drop off all of Simon’s stuff out of his momma’s car, cos she was finally going home to Wellington. She’s lovely, but I got SOOOOOOO tired of being polite and chipper all the time. When we were driving down Queen Street, these louts in the car next to us were saying things like ‘Can I please put my head between your cunt?” (great England there!) and I was reduced to saying “Gee, thanks but no thanks” as opposed to whatever I would have said had there not been an adult in the car. The poor woman was like so oblivous. She didn’t notice any of the drug stuff in the Greenlane house, not even the smell. Anyways, I digress.

Shirley’s cool friend Nicole was there that I’d met on Tuesday night, and her two airforce friends Richard and ummm someone else. They were all drinking already – at 9am in the morning, I might add. In the taxi-van on the way to Ericsson Stadium, I got handed a bottle of Lemonade and Vodka, and who was I to refuse? I felt so fucking 14 again, drinking hard stuff from soft drink bottles. It was so strong it made me feel a trifle ill too, but never the less I knocked it back. Go Go Go Peer Pressure. It made me laugh a lot when the bottle got handed to Not-A-Team-Player-Nigel, who presumed it was water and took a big swig. Childish, I know, but I’m still bitter about what they said to me at my birthday party.

Anyways. Eventually we got to the stadium, and as soon as we pulled up, we had Absolutely Crackers thrown at us. That was cool, cos all I’d had for breakfast was that vodka. Hahhahahaha that’s so tragic, I sound so bad. All the Tutorial Dsters, being the wholesome people that they are, went off to see the Dead Flowers, who I completly hate, so Simon and I went to see 48Sonic, after arranging a meeting place to catch up with Dpeople again, should we feel the need. (No Comment. I like them, I really do, just they’re a bit much to take, all in a group. They make me feel really dirty and evil).

Anyways, so we danced to D&B for a while, which was kinda cool, but then we got bored so we went down to the main stadium to see Garageland – yay. I’ve seen them lots live and they’re cool, and it was choice to see them again since they’re normally in England. Anyways. Si got bored, so we were going to wander off, when he bumped into Mark and Scott. They fully ignored me, which made me laugh lots. I decided not to be as petty as them, so I went off to find the Dsters. BUT on my way up the stairs, I suddenly spotted someone I’d been hoping to see and with a tremendous yell of “JOOOOOOOOOOO” I launched myself at her. YAAAAAAAY.So that was faaaantastic. We watched the end of Garageland, and then decided to go ride on the Ferris Wheel. Passing by Mark, he dissed Jo too. hahahahahaha.

As we got on the ferris wheel, after lining up for ages, I remembered that I’m actually a wee bit afraid of heights, which made it SO cool, like flying into Wellington Airport when you think you’re going to drown, but you don’t mind all that much, because it’s so fucking cool and it really turns me on. Um. We figured that we had to kiss on the top of the ferris wheel, cos it was so romantic and neither of us had better people around. Again, that’s a kiss, and not a snog. Sorry to those who were looking for cheap thrills.

After that, we went up to the Supertop and saw the end of Jebidiah, while waiting for HDU to come on. There were these two old guys with their shirts off standing in front of us. I so wanted to take a razor to the back of one of them, and then when he started yelling out drunken appreciation for HDU, I wanted to take a razor to his wrists. Honestly I’m not reaaaaally a violent person. I just hate people bumping into me or being too close when I’m dancing. HDU were sooooo fantastic. For those of you who’ve never heard of them, which is probably most of you, they play really sonic, feedbacky kinda music. We were right at the front, just melting into the bass. I stuck my arms out and they trembled with the vibrations. I would have given anything to have been able to sit on the speakers. My heartbeat was overcome.

So that was astonishing. Afterwards Jo and I went to sit outside and cool off for a while because we were both dying. The clever girl had a water bottle so we found a place to fill that up. I bought a donut, but I really didn’t feel much like eating it, so I gave half to Jo. We sat in one of the semi-tunnels between the main stadium and the supertop, where it was nice and drafty, and waited for Matt(er)’s cellphone (which she was carrying) to ring. Eventually it did, so she bellowed out our location to Matt and the mysterious Thomas so that they could come and find us. Almost an hour later, they did manage to find us – after another phone call. Honestly, we gave them brilliant directions, so I don’t know what their problem was. Thomas Scovell isn’t a bot after all – apparently. I guess that’s maybe an inside joke, but hey, almost everything else in this journal is too, and you’re still here.

Okay, moving away from that moment of gloating. We stood and nattered for a while, before hiking down to the main stadium to watch Ash. Unfortunatly, the cop-a-jailbait-feelers were on, so Jo and I sat with our backs to the main stage, and the boys went off to do the mannish thing of drinking beer. I could have gone with them, thanks to the loverly Nicole who’d scored me an R20 wristband from a lax security person, but no, I didn’t want to. Instead we lay on the ground, and I was shocked to discover that I kept breaking out and singing along. Eventually I realised that there was no way I could stop myself, so I just sung out loudly, waving my arms around and generally taking the piss. Aaaaaarg the feelers suck. Such such wankers. Oh please can I be a fifteen year old groupie and suck their dicks?

Eventually, the boys came back from their lager, and Ash came on. Jo and I were wetting ourselves at their looooooooverly Irish accents. Mmmmmmmmm. They played “A Life Less Ordinary” which I completely love, and so that just went off fantastically. We danced in an empty area near the back for a while, but then us lasses decided to go in deeper, so we parted from the lads. Gil came up to us, and that was so choice, cos I was completly surprised to see her there. We didn’t chat for long but it was still cool. After hearing all the songs that we knew, we realised it was coming on 5pm, and time to head up to the Boiler Room for a Vision meeting. It started raining when we were up there, and I drank a red eye. Sonic Animation was playing, and the music was very very cool. We danced in the rain and it was terrific. Eventually people came and found us, so I met Annette, Brooke, Kay, and umm aaah I think that’s about it. Oh yeah, I met Annette’s friends, who told me they loved my dress, so I loved them. Yes I’m that easy. So that was pretty choice, AND I got to dance.

So yeah, Sample Gee came on and all these little fifteen year olds came running into the tent. Scaaaaaary shit. I so so hate Sample Gee, so I got impatient, and really wanted to leave. Shihad were up next in the main stadium, so I went down with Jo and her friends to see them. Simon caught up with us then – Mark ignoring me again. Ouch. I’ll make you bleed and you’re bleeding now. (That’s Soulfly, who I didn’t see). But anyways, I was very impressed with Jon Toogood and the boys. I’m so glad I’ve seen them live now. They rocked. ‘Home Again’ is such a great song. “I’m here, you’re there, don’t mean I don’t care – I’m so sorry, I was miles away”.

Si went up to see the Fun Loving Criminals a little before me and Jo. Then I went to the bathroom on the way up, and so therefore got seperated. I arranged to meet her ‘where we’d been before’ in time for Marilyn Manson. The Supertop where the Criminals were playing was so smoky and hazy that I just couldn’t stay in it, especially when i didn’t see anyone I knew. I wandered around outside by myself instead, listening to the Headless Chickens on the really small stage, but I don’t like them so much without Fiona Macdonald, so I just went and sat in the tunnel cos it was nice and cool, and I wanted to save up my strength for my main reason for being there. It was just chance that Jo came back that way – she thought we were going to meet down in the main stadium. Fate is so kind. We went and got seats up in the main stadium next to more of her friends so that we could watch the Manson Show begin.

I was actually pretty disappointed in his set. I thought at least he’d be a good showman, but no! He had to keep going offstage to change his clothing, which just killed the pace of the whole thing, and from as far away as we were, there was nothing to see – even though I did have my contact lenses in (thank god). Jo left to go see Roni Size half way through, so I stayed and made disparaging remarks about Manson to her friend. That was amusing. The people running the big scoreboard were dissing him too, with stuff like “Marilyn – Boy George is looking for you” and “We CARE, Marilyn”. He got pretty cheesed off with it all, I think. Oh well. He didn’t play Tourniquet, the Dope Show OR Beautiful People, which are basically the only songs I know. So how was that fair?

Once I figured he was pretty much at the end of his set, I headed down into the ground, to get well set up for HOLE. YEAAAAH BABY, they’re the band I’ve been dying to see since I was fourteen. Courtney Love is one of my role models and all. I was so excited that I got butterflies in my stomach. I wanted to be in a good place so that I could actually SEE what was going on onstage, so I didn’t push too deeply into the crowd – plus since I was alone, I didn’t want to become a casualty. But then someone came up behind me and was like “move aside, young lady” and I turned around to see my friend Jodie, so that rocked. I went in deeper with her, her friend and the little brother. They were excited too. Hole took a long time to come out, but when they did, it was magic. She sang a few lines from ‘Pretty on the Inside’ solo, (“slut kissed girl, won’t you promise her smack; is she pretty on the inside, is she pretty from the back?”) then they launched into Violet. “When they get what they want, they never want it again” – the crowd went wild, jumping up and down to “GO TAKE EVERYTHING, TAKE EVERYTHING I WANT YOU TO”. A couple of songs into the set, I was completly seperated from Jodie and co, and I didn’t care. Nothing mattered apart from the beautiful woman and her band on the stage, and the songs that got me through my angsty angsty youth. When they played ‘Miss World’ she sang “I am the girl you know, the one who should have died” – an obvious reference to so many people blaming her for Kurt’s death. I almost started crying then. I love that song so much – it’s going to be played (ironically) at my funeral, and it was just so sad cos she was obviously (drunk and) upset. It’s such bullshit people who say that she killed Kurt. I reckon that people just can’t cope with the idea of having a strong female in power, and they have to find some way of tearing her down. I’m not normally a huge feminist, but I left the concert that night wanting to really make a stand. In between songs, and mocking Manson, Courtney told us how women only earn 62 cents to every dollar that men earn, but as a rock band, they were earning a dollar to every 62 cents guy fronted bands were making. She included such classic statements as “We’re the first female-fronted band to headline a festival since Heart” and “I love Eric – I just wish he had a vagina”. Apparently though, he’s got a really big dick, and he turned her down when she offered to fuck him for his birthday. I love Courtney. She’s so funny. And so tragic (not in a traj way, but in a true shakesperean sense of the word) as well. Before ‘Doll Parts’ she explained that she’d written the song for Kurt, when she thought he was leaving her for someone else (Kathleen Hannah perhaps?). Afterwards, she was like “I didn’t want to talk about this, but it’s just so stupid. Why did he have to go and do a thing like that?”. She mocked the audience for cheering so much when she flashed her (very nice) breasts. Well, I’ll admit I cheered too. I thought they were great. Very well formed. Some guy in the audience was stupid enough to call out that she was a slut – instantly everyone was like “fuck up, asshole”. Did he have a death wish or something? I think we were all pretty much under her spell. ‘Reasons to be Beautiful’ and ‘Dying’ formed a beautiful couplet just like on the album, ‘Celebrity Skin’ was greeted like an old friend. I’m sorry, I can’t really keep track of the order she played songs in. ‘Malibu’ was a whole lot better than I expected it to be, as was ‘Awful’. ‘Northern Star’ was heartwrenching. I think she played something from ‘Pretty on the Inside’ cos I remember feeling proud that I knew it and most of the other people wouldn’t but I guess that’s become invalid now cos I can’t for the life of me remember what song it was. They didn’t play much of ‘Live Through This’ which is a bit of a shame, because I do love that album dearly, but I also love ‘Celebrity Skin’ so I guess I’ll get over it. ‘Heaven Tonight’ was a gorgeous blast of pop. Courtney did a whole lot of talking. She had a girl lifted on stage – and of course the girl was crying. At the end, after repeatedly telling all the girls in the audience to “stop sucking your boyfriend’s cock and start bands. Make a dollar to their every 62 cents” she gave away her guitar, making the recipient promise to start a band. They went offstage after ummm I think it was ‘Use Once and Destroy’ and then came back for an encore, demanding that people scream more. Hey, I don’t begrudge them their rockstar moments. Courtney also threatened to stop playing if people didn’t scream more for their drummer – “one of the best in the country AND she has ovaries”. She also played a little song for Melissa, explaining how all the boys want her, but Melissa will never give up her power (she’s a lesbian). They really played overtime, so when Courtney came back for a last encore, the stage people wouldn’t give the rest of the band their guitars. She got mad and yelled at them – YAY, fuck coporate rock and all. So yeah, they came and played a roaring ‘She walks over me’. By that time I’d been pushed up really close to the stage, and I didn’t mind that I nearly died. It was so amazing. I felt so goddam empowered, and also really horny, but maybe that’s just due to the feeling of power I had. Which is a good thing, right? Anyways, the main stadium lights went on, a clear indication that it was finally over, so along with everyone else, I trudged up the stairs out of the stadium.

Everyone was trying to cram themselves into the Boiler Room to see Fat Boy Slim, but a) I don’t like him and b) I was nearly in tears from my religious rebirth, so I went and sat outside the main gate, where I was supposed to meet all the dsters at the end of the day. It was cool while I was sitting by myself, but once Trudie and Shirley came along, I felt really stink. They were sitting there going “oh yay Fat Boy Slim” and I was just turning my snobby little nose up at them, dissing all the stuff that they’d liked. I was so unbelievably lonely, because I wanted to share my Hole experiance with someone and they’d written it off. So I didn’t want to talk, which meant they thought I was sick. I called up Jo on Trudie’s cellphone, because she was who I wanted to see more than anyone else in the world, but she hadn’t been at Hole either so there was no one that could know what I was feeling. It really really sucked.

Anyways,eventually we found the whole group of D people, and set off to find ourselves a taxi van to take us back to Shirley’s. Walking down the road I spotted Matt and Thomas, and Jo with them, so I was really happy and got to get my hug after all (I’m such a little kid). But I couldn’t talk to her for long, cos all of D were motoring ahead. We walked miles before managing to hail a taxi, but that’s okay. I talked to Nigel’s friend from Hamilton all the way home, about the Outback and similarly scary places. Nichole let me sleep in her bed so that she could have cuddles with Richard. Hey, I’m not complaining. Except that I couldn’t sleep for ages because my feet hurt so much. Still, it was worth it all to have seen Hole. Wow. My god. Wow. A rebirthing experiance. I just wish I could have shared it with someone. But still, I shared it with me. And hey – I’m WORTH a dollar to every 62 cents.

Wednesday 9th December

Am I somehow radiating “women, please come on to me” smells or something? I was working in the Bakehouse again today, and this woman came in and was looking at jewellary for over half an hour, which is not a usual thing. She made me model all these earings for her, and wanted to see them with my hair up and down. She was all “how do they look?” – as if I’d say they looked stupid when I’m trying to make a sale. She stopped to comb her hair even, all the while sending out these vibes. Then came the clincher – she said “I probably shouldn’t say this, but you’ve very attractive” – I almost shit myself trying not to laugh. I was so relieved when she left – after buying three pairs or earings, I might add. And so she fucking well should have, after wasting all of my time like that. I felt kind of sorry for her – she was like a Khandallah/Remers woman who realised too late in life she shouldn’t have married that rich suitable guy because she just doesn’t bat on his team. And of course, in her society there isn’t much she could do, so she sticks with her two martinis at lunch and a bottle of wine every evening, and meddles too much in her children’s lives and hits on poor innocent shop girls because she can’t accept that she’s a lesbian. Well, sorry Lady, but your team doesn’t float my boat, and even if it did, you wouldn’t be my sailor.

Nevermind. I still managed to sell like over $700 worth of stuff in the shop today, which is pretty darn impressive. Customers are just so boring though. Then again, so is having no customers. That’s okay. I just systematically destroyed furniture to fill in the time instead. And rang around, trying to fnd a friend.

Eventually I settled on Andee cos she was all that I had left. I picked her up from Amy’s house, out in Llamaville, and we went to town for David Straussan. He was SO funny! I was completly skeptical, given that he is a ventriloquist and all, and Carroll, his manager was so dodg, but no! His show fully rocked my socks off. If anyone wants to buy me one of those dancing dinosaurs, I’ll love you for the rest of my life. Free stuff rocks. I saw Carroll as we were leaving, and said thanks for the tickets. She said “I’m glad you enjoyed it” as she stroked my arm. Andee and I went to Slotatl after that, and Anji made me PAY for the coffees, which shocked me greatly. Ahhhh well. Then I drove her back home to Horokiwi, and watched Amy playing Quake for a while, enthralled. You just know I’m going to become a Quake junkie next year. Someone help me now please.

Oh yeah, and I was thinking about funerals, and music, and I decided to maybe have ‘Viva Forever’ played in addition to ‘Miss World’ and ‘Street Spirit’. I mean, I’ve had so many good times with the Spice Girls, I think it’d be kinda cool for all my friends who come to the funeral to have a chance to laugh – so maybe ‘Wannabe’ would be better. I taught my mother the dance moves for ‘Stop’ this morning in the car – she learnt them like a thousand times faster than I did. Anyways, I’m always curious as to who’d show at my funeral. Pleaaaaaase sign my guestbook now and let me know if you’d come. Ta.

xoxoxo

What the fuck is it with me and bogans? Why are the only men that pay any attention to me lately all such knobs? Ahhhhh well. So tonight I had nothing better to do, so I took the car into town, and went to visit Anji at Axolotl. I had a yummy banana dessert thing (personal favourite of Steve from Breathe) and hung out, talking to the staff for a while. Kirsten thanked me for the flowers I’d dropped off for her on friday since I’d seen her in town looking really really sad. And I caught Anji up on some of the stories from my trip to Hamilton. Crazy Steph and another waitress called Siobhan (sp?) came in to take Anji away to Brava, and they invited me to go with them, so I did – yes, I’m easy. There we met up with two more smacksalotl waitresses called Louise and Sarah, and they all sat around drinking lots of red wine. Anji was on antibiotics, and I was driving, so we didn’t – but I did have some nice OJ. Louise is from Kent, and Steph is from Essex, and they knew each other vaguely back in England, and it was fucking funny to listen to them blabber away about shags and stuff. English accents are SO funky. Louise talks just like Posh Spice, while Steph sounds like this chick Alison Templeton I knew in school.

Annnnyways, back to the plot. Siobhan had met this guy she knew on the street called Mike, and he showed up a little later with his friend, who was called Nick (I have a good ear for details sometimes). They had such bogan voices, man! The friend was so drunk he could hardly talk. So Siobhan sat in the corner talking to Mike, trying to hook into him, and then this lady who was sitting at the table next to us came over, and asked if she could hang with us. Being gregarious waitresses (apart from me, and I’m a Communications Student/freak magnet so that goes without saying) everyone agreed, so she sat down and started yapping away. Turns out she’s the manager for David Strausman (or something like that) this touring comedy velintriloquist guy. She gave everyone who wasn’t working tickets for his opening night – YAY. So I got two. Faaaaantastic stuff. It was so cool. Anji, Sarah, Siobahn and Mike went outside for a session, and so the rest of us moved in closer. The lady – Carroll, I think her name was, was going on about how drugs just fuck up your mind, and Steph told us about how she’d had her drink spiked with Ecstacy before (back in England, honey, where it’s only two pounds). I just sort of sat there saying nothing, smiling and nodding. Carroll started playing with the sleeve of my dress, saying she loved the material – I was like “It’s polyester”. She was like, kinda weird, so I was relieved when she moved around the table to talk to Nick, who was making grunting noises. However, when everyone else came back, she got bored of Nick, so she slid past him to sit next to me on the seat running along the wall. Anji was sitting on the other side of me, and her and Caroll talked for a bit, behind my back. Next thing I know, Carroll’s got her arm around me, and she’s playing with my hair, and it was fully creeping me out. Like, it shouldn’t have been any different from a guy doing that, but it was. I didn’t know if she was just like, being friendly because she was drunk, or what. Nick started talking to me then, and Anji said something about me being an actor. Seeing an opportunity for fun, I told him that I had a part on Shortland Street coming up, a six month role with an option of having that time extended out. Carroll said something about all the actors on it, so I told her I was lying – I’m not sure she understood. But it didn’t matter, cos she moved to the other end of the table anyways, muttering something about her bag. I must be the champion of smiling and nodding. All of Mum’s Japanese friends thought I spoke perfect Japanese, because I faked it, just going ‘ah so desuka?” and “hai, hai” at appropriate times.

Anji was pissing herself meantime at me telling Nick all about my role on SS. She was like “how can you keep a straight face?” so I told her it just comes naturally. Then she was apologising to me for leaving me to talk to him, “except that you’re probably really enjoying yourself, since you’re so good at arguing”. I took that as inspiration, and launched into a spiel about how Shortland Street is working for the good of the nation, how the writers influence us for the better, and what a good vessel it is for issues – fully fully taking the piss. Nick took me seriously, and launched into a slurred counter-attack. He went off on so many tangents, man! Before I knew it, we were arguing away about the third world. I contradicted myself so many times, something he didn’t pick up on, because I was just winding him up – I didn’t give a shit about the topic. He had no logical order, and I went to great lengths to point that out, but he just had selective hearing. I kept looking over his shoulder at Louise and Anji, who were in hysterics. After about half an hour of crap, I was still going strong, but then I decided I was bored, and wanted to go home, so I fished out my keys and wallet and stood up. Anji told me her friends all thought I was cool, for dealing with the bogan like that – YAY! I like being told I’m cool. I shook his hand before I left. If he hadn’t been drunk, he might have actually made some valid points.

Anji was like “do you want me to walk you to the van?”. I didn’t, of course. I guess that’s my one weak point, the fact that I’m not afraid. I just don’t care, I want to be finished. I dunno. It’s fucked. Also I get off on the adrenaline that a slight tingling of fear gives. Flying into Wellington Airport turns me on when I think I’m going to drown.