Tag: confidence


dedicated to o who claims she lives for my updates

August 22nd, 2002 — 7:14pm

Thursday August 22nd

If the phone rings one more fucking time, I swear I am going to hurt someone – but of course, I’m on the net, so HAH, it can’t ring. Take that, motherfuckers. I’ve taken to barking “THEY’RE NOT HOME” every time it rings now, since it’s both Clay and Bopha’s birthdays and the phone has been ringing nonstop and it’s always Clay’s horrible family members. If I wanted to be a receptionist, I would not have spent three and a half years getting multiple qualifications. I probably would have dropped out in sixth form.

So, today is Thursday and the last day I wrote was Monday, so I guess I should feel obligated to fill you in on my week. After all, you’re still my captive audience even if I haven’t heard from you in forever – well, I’m guessing that I am, and if you’re not reading this, then you won’t be able to let me know that I’m wrong, so really, it’s a win-win situation, kinda but not really. But anyways.

Tuesday: I had to get up earlish to get my ass over to Newmarket where we went to Westfield’s Nuffield Street Project’s headquarters to listen to their communications woman talk about their public consultation programme and how successful they have been and how they’ve scaled back the “mega mall” project they were gonna implement, so that was kinda really interesting. Then everyone had to hop it back to campus for Human Resources lectures, and then I went to the library to start looking up my hypothesis – “HR communicators need to have a thorough understanding of the implications of Sick Building Syndrome in order to protect their workers”. This is a reminder once again, children, that you should go to classes in order to avoid the lameass topics (not like i did today). After that, I had coffee with Thomas (because just between you and me, I do still worry about him, and also because it’s cool we’ve got to a stage where I can send him text messages going “BOYS SUCK” and he will text back offering to beat people up for me). Later that evening, after much wardrobe fretting, Haley picked me up and we went to our client’s hat shop opening in Kingsland. I managed two and a half glasses of bubbly and conversation with an ex-lecturer (“that scary guy is still looking t you! he’s giving you the glad eye!” – haley) before Haley had to go to work and I had to go and meet Jezza and Renae at the pub for quiz night. There, tragedy struck – I realised I didn’t feel like drinking! Shock horror, and so consequently, we didn’t win. It felt dirty and wrong and soiled.

Wednesday: Hmmmm, I almost had a total memory blank here, but then I realised that Wednesday was yesterday, so in that case, I can remember. Half a day working, doing name badges and other such things, making sure that our big major event next Saturday is going to go smoothly. I was also told that I’ve been shortlisted for Terri’s position and will probably have an interview on Monday or Tuesday. Gulp. I also spent my time emailing KateH and asking her to make the final decision on an issue for me – BradM told me to ask (one of) the boy(s) I fancy out for coffee, while Jezza says that that particular boy isn’t interesting enough for me and I need someone with more spark – but she claimed she’s too much of a fence sitter. Inncidently, when I say I wanted her to make my decision for me, that’s not actually what I meant. You may or may not know that the way I work is that I make my mind up about something and then canvas opinions from my entire social circle until I find someone who agrees totally with me and then I get to use them as like, my expert witness. We all went out to dinner (like, twelve of us) at the Canton Cafe in Kingsland for Clay’s birthday, cos we’d finally managed to get a booking, adn we made it our mission to last there for at least an hour – it was almost two before dinner was finished. The food there is SO GOOD. But the company was real wack. Leo kept trying to get me drunk (cos sure, that’s hard) and I could see KateH and Jezza discussing me over the other side of the table, wheras Morrison was even less subtle with her appraisal of the particular boy that KateH and Jezza were appraising (their verdict – perhaps a change from the usual drama boys would be healthy for me). I like lazy susans. I also like all the food at Canton. I ended up paying $20 as my share of a feast, which included the rest of us paying for Clay and Bopha both in honour of their birthdays, and a $10 tip. Good good good value. It’s funny though, that Clay’s friends are all cheap and don’t bring their own wine, wheras all of my friends did. After that, we got taxis and went and danced and danced and danced at Retro. I got shirty cos of course goddamfuckingKara put her handbag down in the middle. I HATE DANCING AROUND A MOTHERFUCKING HANDBAG! DO I LOOK LIKE I WEAR WHITE PANTS? Grrr. Anyways, eventually we all went home, and since he’d been flirting iwht me hardcore all night and everyone was whispering “there’s definitely chemistry” to me, I decided to sort things out once and for all with the boy. When we were standing outside my building by ourselves, I said “Pop quiz!” to him, and he was all “umm, okay.. I dunno if I’m good at these” so I said “it’s a simple yes/no question” and he said he could do that, and so I said “are you at all interested in me?” and he was a little taken aback, but he said no, and I said that was cool, and he was like “wow, that was out of the blue (OH REALLY? ARE YOU A FUCKING MORON?) you’re really straight up, aren’t you? That’s really cool” and then Clay came up so I just laughed and reiterated that it was cool. I did end up calling Tom to talk about it later though, because hey, no one likes rejection. Especially rejection that makes you feel like you’re totally not fanciable by anyone. If I want to make myself feel better about it, I can think that maybe it has something to do with the fact that I ruthlessly shagged his best friend the night we all met (oh yeah, cos thinkign about that stage’o my life always makes me feel better). Meh. At least I’m not wasting anymore time on him, and he’s cool enough that hopefully, we’ll still be cool.

Thursday: that being today, of course, was making yoghurt&peach cake for the flatties, more work, and too many goddam people ringing this evening for Clay and Bo. I got to see Emma this afternoon though, which was choice, cos I’d just been thinking about her before I got home. And I wanted to have a catchup chat with both KateB (who was just on her way out) and Anji (except she texted to say she was out to dinner with the whanau) so I didn’t talk to anyone. But I might go have telephone conversations now, and so that will be good. I have a big meeting at work tomorrow to discuss all the final details for this big event, so I guess I gotta get to bed at some decent hour so as to be able to cope with the things I gotta do.

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Show & Tell

December 29th, 1998 — 10:27pm

Tuesday the 29th of December

So it’s come to this. I’ve gone so far with my self disclosure that I’ve got little left to tell that would shock. Instead, now I have to SHOW, instead of tell. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, go to my blahblah page. Mmmmm. I really don’t think Jo’s a good influence on me. In fact, my parents saw a photo of her with a cigarette in hand, and they TOLD me she was a bad influence. And I’m sure they know what’s best for me. Excuse me while I snicker.

I worked in the Potters Shop this morning, but since this is right after Xmas and still in governmental holidays, we weren’t anticipating huge retail rushes. Mum said she’d call me at 12.30pm to see how sales were going, and if no one had come in, then I could close up early. Well, what can I say? I’m sick, and I finished my (brilliant) book. I wanted to go home. I didn’t exactly SCOWL at all the customers that came in, but I really didn’t smile much either. And I doubt any of them were big fans of the Beastie Boys played a little loud either. I guess the flipside of being a very good sales person (look, there’s me blowing my own trumpet again) is that I know how to be a bad one as well.

Anyways, I got released and went to pick up my photos, which I’ll add in here and there as I feel is nessecary. Then Mum and I went for coffee at slotatl, to say hi to Anji mostly. In the evening, we rented A Life Less Ordinary. LOVE that movie. It’s probably in my top ten films ever. Also in it would be Spiceworld and Breaking the Waves – two completely opposite ends of the spectrum I know, but that just illustrates my depth (wank wank).

I’m so weirded out by my behaviours as of late. Honestly very disturbed. It’s fun being a little crazy. I’m just worried that I’m too willing to accept people’s dares. Ah well. Who needs shame anyways?

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High Concept

December 20th, 1998 — 1:53am

Sunday the 20th of December

So according to my grudge book, I’m a concept. And I’m fucked too. Coool. I was thrilled when I read that cos I was like “YAY! My Helenafication begins now”. But then I realised that no, it doesn’t because I know who wrote it. You’re right, I did ask for it. I think it’s interesting that someone who wants so little to do with me keeps coming back to read more, and also knows enough to quote it. But then again, you always were in denial about everything, weren’t you?

That said and done, I can move on. (No, really I can). I worked four hours in the Bakehouse today. It wasn’t too busy, except there was practically always people LOOKING in the shop, just not buying. They’ve got really cool purple tissue in now – I guess Jo got the last of the orange. After that I came home to the message in my grugde book, and took a minute to work out who it was from.

I was sitting around working on Karen’s Xmas pressie, when the phone rang. Within a minute I was out the door, on my way to Johnsonville to pick up my Onslow Best Friend (I figure I have to catergorize my best friends since I’ve got like a girl in every port – or so to speak). I haven’t seen Penny since like – June maybe, cos she’s always away with the Navy (yes, i know!). So that was fantastic. Her parents have moved to Cortina Ave, which is like the personification of Johnsonville Suburbia. So many of my friends from Onslow live close to it. It’s like Edward Scissor Hands town meets a big treeless hill. So that was kind of weird to be going there, given how few Onslow people I’ve kept in touch with. Sarh used to live at 80 Cortina Ave, in such an ugly characterless house. I soooooo want to call Dylan, espeically since I saw he has a story on the front page of the Independant Herald. So what if Sarah gets mad? There’s no friendship there to loose now anyways.

The Benton Parents were also over for dinner, but Penny and I took over the lounge, giggling over my scrapbook of saved notes and her drawings (just wai til I get a scanner!) Ahhhhhhhhh the old memories. We played hardtrance in the car to bring back those old rave memories. And we watched Spice World. That’s like the tenth time for me. It’s gotten to the stage where I start giggling a minute before my favourite bits, because I know it so well, and because it’s SO good. That’s not sarcasm. I fully love the Spice Girls. Geri Forever!

When I took her home, we stopped in the quad at Onslow so she could have a go driving the van. Then we turned the stereo up as loud as it could go, and danced hardtrance in the wind and the mist, in front of a school and a life we can’t return to. That hyped us up fully, so then we drove up and down the driveway, managing to get airbourne over one of the speed bumps. Driving back to Cortina Ave, we left the windows open and roared, Scary Spice style, at all the kids we passed. We went avisiting to Rosalie’s but she wasn’t home, so we went to Narelle’s – who wasn’t home either.

I was so suprised to hear from Penny, especially since I’d just been thinking about her this morning – after dreaming about Pixie (the girl, not the cat). I’d been feeling so much that nothing had changed since I’d left school, and I’d kept feeling like it was still 1997, but I know now that it’s not. A whole year has past, and I’ve changed a whole lot. I reaslised just how confident I’ve become when we were dancing in the Quad. Blossomed I could say – if I wanted to blow my own trumpet.

“And if you could see me now

Said if you could see me now

Girls, you’ve got to know when it’s time to turn the page”

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