Tag: crushes


Webstocked

March 9th, 2010 — 12:01am

I appreciate that once again, it has been forever since I last wrote. So I suppose that there are a number of things that I should talk about. Like:

1. Webstock
2. Kat & Kane
3. An assortment of things
4. Pretty Pretty Pretty
5. Why I hate having crushes on people, or words to that effect.


I wrote on my professional site about what I learned at Webstock, and I wrote a lengthy thank-you for the Midnight Note site which might get posted at some stage, so at this stage, I can now talk about all the gossip behind the scenes in a non-professional way. Which means talking about ice cream. And how at the pre-webstock tweetup that I organised there were three people I’d fucked, and a couple of others I’d pashed. And how Starla Jo was all “oh, thank you so much for your tweets on New Year’s” and I was like “….huh?” and she was like “You wished me and Thomas another ten years of happiness” and I was like “oh, good for me!” No recollection of that at all but that’s the first time that I’ve ever been told about drunk tweets that were nice, so good for me. And how the whole shebang was dedicated to Darren and Amanda who were getting married the next day, and how they met at my Halloween party, and how if you ever want to get married, I should get a crush on you and someone of the opposite sex at the same time, cos it’s happened yet another time since I ran away from Auckland at the end of 2003.

Oh, in hilarious webstock gossip, on the Thursday night, I got this email:

I said I’d look for you and introduce myself, but once I saw you I
decided not to. You are too gorgeous.

I mean, if you hadn’t been twittering about orgasms I *so* would have
come over and flirted, but I knew as soon as I spotted you I’d be
spending the entire night trying to get into your pants rather than
actually listening to what you have to say. And I didn’t think that
would be cool.

So, next time, when I’m not already thinking about sex, I will say
hello and tell you how wonderful I find your writing (I *adore*
sex-positive women), and then if there’s some flirting or geek talk or
strip clubs I’ll be happy to participate.

Ummm, what? It’s a very strange thing when people feel like they know me from reading my twitter stream, or reading Hubris, because duh, they don’t know Joanna at all, just Jo Hubris’s posturings. I might appear to be open about my life but I don’t feel like I’m asking for emails like that from people I don’t know. But enough about that for now.

Obviously Webstock was all kinds of awesome, as I had expected it to be. I was sitting with Julie, and she was like “wow, talking to you is like hanging out with the Mean Girls” and I was like “it’s so fetch, right?” but honestly, if it looks like a whore and walks like a whore, then what are you supposed to say? (Reason number six thousand and twenty to hate the guy: he made me deal by turning into a bad feminist). That aside, it was lovely to catch up with so many people who I only get to see once a year at Webstock and to absorb all the awesomeness, and to watch people using the Webstock Bingo and Webstocklove channels that I set up. I sent out plenty of messages myself due to a million and five geek crushes. Why are all the good ones (and bad ones) married?

After the official bubbles & beats, we went up to Mighty Mighty for more drinks because people said that Kevin Rose was going to be there, and who doesn’t want to marry a millionaire? Someone had stickers and they thought we should write our names on them, but since we were already all wearing nametags, I gave people other names. We got a Rod Drury, and a Kevin Rose, and a Mark Zuckerberg and a Tom from Myspace before I started to run out of names. Later at the other end of the bar, I got in a conversation with Lisa Herrod who’d spoken earlier that day about accessibility, and was super stoked when she tweeted later that she’d hire me in a second if I lived in Sydney (and if she was hiring). It was really awesome to be reminded that I do actually know what I’m talking about sometimes. And in that vein, her husband Lachlan who had also spoken but I hadn’t seen his talk except for the end where he mentioned Waferbaby (who you might remember from Melbourne 2001, if those entries were actually online, but they don’t appear to be. Odd. But to summarise I met him when I was staying with 0 at Nirvana), ordered a castlepoint, so I told him that it was one of the top five drinks in town, and later on twitter mapped out a path as to how he could have the other four in one day. In fact, we were supposed to go get margaritas for breakfast at 8am on the Friday, but I decided to get one more hour of sleep. I was very impressed that he went though!

On Friday night after more Webstock awesomeness was the ONYAs. I borrowed a dress from Megan that I felt gorgeous in, and after some reshufflings I spent the evening telling gossip to a nice woman from Australia that actually may have been a little terrifying because I had a lot of it to tell and there was also a lot of wine. Then there was an amazing light show. Then we went to the Malthouse and people from Silverstripe were so drunk that I thought that they were speaking Norwegian, and other people were so drunk that they fell over, and really, I felt quite sober comparatively. I got to talk about Mad Men with Peter lots. And I got home sometime after 4am after dallying with that nice girl from last year who went to the bathroom and never came back. Webstock is awesome. I should have written about it a lot sooner and also not today when I’m in a really sulky mood.

In fact, I’m so sulky that I’m not going to finish this entry. Night kids, let’s hope something goes my way in the next couple of days or so, yes? Please?

3 comments » | Journal

This don’t even feel like falling

December 19th, 2009 — 1:19am

It turns out that I can throw a pretty good shindig. The Fourth Annual Wellingtonista Awards were last night, and it was a fantastic time. I’m so proud of all the work that I and others have put into that site, and it’s paid off in bucketfuls. I’ll no doubt do a proper post about it over on that site, and round up pics and stuff like that, but suffice to say, oh my, so much love. It was fantastic to have lots of people who were nominated actually turn up, it was great to have Sally from Mighty Mighty to accept their billion awards that they won, and to have Shirley up on stage to accept for her identical twin Ev from Slowboat, to get to talk to James about how far we’ve come since the site started, to see Jessie again, to have Tom prove yet again what a gentleman he really is by keeping me in drinks when I thought I lost my eftpos card, to get to swap meaningful looks and sideways smiles with someone and have that be cool, to dance with Chiara and Theresa and Julie in pseudo-Russian style to the Klezmer Rebs, to see Sue actually about, to have so many friends there that I didn’t get a chance to talk to any of them properly, to have Tash be all humbled by their winning and her not being there to accept it on time, to dance to the awesome Karaoke Dick afterwards and sing sing sing, to having Kim show up really late and be all drunken “YAY KIM!!!!” at her, to have Grant Robertson (and everyone else) tell me how fabulous I looked…. oh, how I do so love me a good spotlight bask. Oh, and then there’s that other thing.

I’ve had bad experiences in the past where I’ve written about crushes and had the crushee email me going “um, I’m not interested in you romantically” and I’ve been like, yeah duh, I just wanted to write about how nice it is to have a crush that’s pure and simple and joyous, it’s not really about you or whatever, but on the other hand all too often I only write about things when they’re spent and used up and I’m all angsty about them, so in the interests of being Fair and Balanced like Fox News, I figure I will tell you a tale about last night at the TAWAs.

There was a girl there who it turned out I’d met almost ten years ago and I found myself really drawn to her immediately. It helped that she piled me with compliments, of course, and that it turns out that we’re eskimo sisters although our mileage definitely varied. At one stage I even sent Laura on a recon mission to find her, and in a move straight out of primary school Laura told her that I had a crush on her. Which is fine because we kissed as someone took up the mic singing ‘Halo’ and I have all kinds of love for that song, and it felt like I was on a show on the WB, and it was lovely, and it was public and not a shameful dirty secret. Also lovely was duetting on ‘Blister In the Sun’, dancing together and kissing right in the middle of Cuba Mall at 3am. She wouldn’t let me take her home because she said that shagging gets in the way of being friends, and I was like “but dude, I have a million friends already! I don’t need any more!” but of course she is no doubt right. I’m just very lucky that I got to have a thoroughly swell time and a kiss to make the night perfect. It was partly a little bit about chasing away the ghosts of last year and the thing that I am not supposed to remember any more, but it was so sweet that it felt fresh and clean and not at all like the other times this year when I have tried to drown my memories in someone else’s arms. Excellent. Thank you very much, you charming young lady.

6 comments » | Journal

4 October, 2002

October 4th, 2002 — 3:58pm

So, while I’m drunk enough and also happy enough, I might give you a brief heads up. I’m really tempted to not to though, because oh for fucks sake, can people misunderstand me just a little bit more? Am I really that obtuse? I’m considering shutting down Hubris once and for all. I thought I was clearer and easier to understand on paper, but apparently not. It just really fucking bugs me, eh.

BUT! Here’s another list:

  • If you search for “Wellington Gay Drum’n'Bass Massive” on Google, my site will appear second. This explains some things.
  • You won’t remember this, unless you were in my class with me, but when we were in Second Year, we always used to use the computers in the Journo room for our assignments, except sometimes this horrible 3rd year Journo student used to lord it up over us and kick us out really bitchilly. Guess who got Terri’s job at work – you know, the one I applied for, for the role I have to work with every day that I’m in the office. Oh yes.
     <!-- and she's even more annoying in person in real life. the next two months are gonna be HELL -->

  • I wish I could write little semi invisible comments all over other people’s sites. This goes for a whole universe of people
  • My computer has decided that it won’t connect to the Internet unless I have hooked it up to Bo’s computer first, despite the fact that this is my dialup machine. Hi, anyone wanna do a reinstall for me?
  • Diet Coke with a lemon twist tastes really nasty and rancid, because the lemon makes it smell like industrial cleaner. Other than that, I think I can pretty much make the switch to diet coke – the regular kind, that is. If I crave Vanilla Coke, I can just add vanilla essence.
  • I thought for a while that maybe I fucked up really badly, and that’s why we weren’t friends any more, but it’s really you that has no concept of friendship and loyalty and stamina, isn’t it? One strike and you’re out.
  • Actually, I’d been seriously thinking of putting in to place a “three strikes and I give up” policy on people who don’t return texts or emails or phonecalls. I make allowances for people on prepay though, and people who I know who are really busy. But actually, that’s really lame isn’t it? I might just revert to being introverted instead.
  • Today was Terri’s last day, and so we drank bubbly in the sun in the Domain at lunchtime and proceeded to the pub just after 4pm, while I was still dazed (my job has been officially acknowledged to be “Sit and Look Pretty” after I reported back in a team meeting that really, that’s all I’d done all week and everyone just laughed and said well, it’s a hard job to do) and I just got home just a little bit ago, sometime around 10.30, and there was a photo of a nekkid snow-woman in my letterbox, and I was SO confused cos there was no return address on the envelope, and then I figured it out – thanks Cous – hope you enjoy the zine. The pub was great, especially when strange boys from Warkworth bought me drinks, maybe in an effort to redeem my opinion of their town but probably not. But hey, free liquor is free liquor. Doesn’t mean that it’ll win my heart over when it comes to the new girl in our office though.
  • Some of the people in my Faculty are actually really cool, but FUCK I will miss Terri. She said I was a sweetheart and had been really good to work with when I left. Bridget and her both cried a lot. So did Gayle.
  • OOS is back with a vengence along with the big capital D and all that other fun stuff. Oh, new this time round – smell-induced panic attacks. Choice.
  • I’ve managed to come to grips and terms and stuff a little bit, and I’ve decided to drop my PR Practice paper, because it was that or fail all my papers, and that’s the one I’m already credited for.
  • I am trying to take better care of myself. I am trying to take better care of myself. I am trying to take better care of myself. I am trying to take better care of myself. I am trying to take better care of myself.
  • Inspired by insomnia and also a little bit of a “grrr!” feeling caused by people over-rating themselves, one morning around 3am, I sat down and wrote a list of all the people that I have had crushes on in the past five years. There were four boys named Daniel. There were three boys named Mike. There were boys and girls. There were people I’d scored. There were various Internet layabouts. There were over 50 people on the list, some who would freak out if I told them that I had a crush on them, and many who wouldn’t. That included a grand total of one person that I’ve been in love with, who left me, and one person who I fell for, who thought that I was good enough for a fling but not a relationship. And a whole bunch’o other flavour’o the week or night or hour people.
  • Actually, maybe I would be able to get away with my own brand of being totally straight up if I was skinny and pretty.
  • Actually, I’m fucking cold.
  • Actually, I think Bo really is a crack whore, and we ACTUALLY use the word ‘actually’ far too often.
  • We went on a crazyass hypo mission last night to Briscoes. Consequently – I HAVE NEW BED LINEN! YAAAAAAAY! She claims that bed linen will be the downfall of the Western Society. I like the way she thinks.
  • Love and respect and thoughts out to LP. <!– i hate that bad things happen to the best people –>
  • Comment » | Journal

    29 September, 2002

    September 29th, 2002 — 4:07pm

    I don’t know if you’ll get this. If I list all the reasons I like this last boy, will you misread it? Will you think that he’s vitally vitally important to me, and worry about telling em things, and think that in the grand scheme of things that he really matters? Because he doesn’t. How do I drill that into your fucking head? How do I explain what’s really important? And how do I make you see that hte black clouds haven’t gone away, and that they won’t ever go away really properly? Because you don’t get it, and if you’ve ever felt like I have, then you too are pretending like it won’t ever happen again; like you’re CURED, and it doesn’t come back. Guess what? It does. But that wasn’t my point. My point was glee, I guess, inspired by a conversation with Jezza tonight about another boy in flannel pajamas. Now you may or may not know that now I really don’t respect this boy anymore, on account of him behaving more than a little immaturely lately (oh shut up, this is about him, not me) but the point was that it’s still a really cute, endearing memory that he put on flannel pjs after shagging me. So can we please move on to the next boy (who is like, umm 3 boys after the flannel boy in terms of being the object of my affection? smething like that anyways)? Thank you.

    Reasons why I have a crush on the latest boy:

  • He kept touching me all throughout our many conversations, just to show me he was paying attention – touching my leg or my arm when he spoke.
  • He ran around the block when i told him to.
  • He was so comfortable with and so much like Simon, but with the advantage of not being my brother.
  • He snuggled up close to me whenever we sat down together, despite there being plenty of room.
  • He told me that I was really cool and that he was really glad he’d met me and that he wanted to hang out again.
  • He was so so so passionate about his interests and was so completely obsessed with it that I know it would have annoyed me after a couple of days but the first day it was fine.
  • He was obviously smart, being a medschool dropout.
  • The next time I saw him, he still had the same bodylanguage, turning his feet to point towards me, twisting his torso and facing me on the couch.
  • He danced all crazylike.
  • He was scrawny and cute looking.
  • He was so different to anyone I’ve ever liked except the other boy I fancied in Welly because he just had this super positive and chilled outlook on life, and he was totally casual and optomistic and interesting without being naive.
  • You still don’t fucking get it though, do you? Because I’ve had so much time to think about this, to figure it all out in my mind, to the point where everything becomes predictable, where I know what people are going to say before they say it, and where it’s almost like there’s no point in having conversations anymore. Why don’t you suprise me? Go on. I bet you can’t. See, that’s your problem maybe, your defeatist attitude. And I’m sorry if you think that I’m being unnecessarily harsh, so if it helps, maybe I’m not talking to YOU at all, I’m talking to someone else. How dare you think that you’re the centre of my universe at all, after all?

    Comment » | Journal

    Again

    September 19th, 2002 — 7:32pm

    So one of the things that we talked about last night in the so many hours of conversation that my throat was sore this morning about how it’s so much easier to write when you’re unhappy because when you’re joyous you wanna hold it all to yourself and just smile over it, and so I’m going to make an effort to share my glee with the world. Although of course, in that case maybe i should play something other than the Cure, but that’d mean like, Brian Adams or something – my parents have an awful lot of cds, but very few good ones, since Mum seems to have hidden all her NZ music.

    But here’s where we’re at. There is a mouse running around in ym bedroom in Auckland, which meant I slept on the couch on Tuesday night, restlessly, having weird codeine spiked dreams. I shrieked at the mouse, and wanted to jump up on a chair. When I rang Tom for reassurance he said I sounded the most feminine that i ever had. And now of course, my landlord’s phoneline doesn’t work, and her cellphone is out of range, so I am not a happy camper at all! Or at least, I wouldn’t be, if i was still in Auckland. But as it happens, I am in Wellington, with a big stupid grin on my face. So there.

    Oh for fucks sake Tom, is there anyone you DON’T know? Stop trying to be Kate Hamlin. Or Justin, I guess this case is, kinda.

    Where was I? Oh, Bo and I struggling with my suitcase up to behind the Sheraton so I could get the bus to the airport (I have now traded with Momma for her suitcase on wheels), then the flight to Wellington being completely bumpy and horrible. I was smiling like a crazy woman cos we all know i like being scared, whilst trying not to be sick as we landed. Then Momma picked me up and we had lunch at the Crank Cafe, and I got to go home and have a nap before having to drive her places in the van so she could get the tyres changed on the car. Mmmmm nap. And hten I took another one after that, so nice to not have to worry about mice running around. After that, I had dinner with Mummy and Daddy, and they dropped me off at Espressaholic to meet up with Fatty Si Si.

    I had a drink there with his friends, and then as soon as we stepped out on the pavement, Henry started making me laugh because he really is a very strange boy. It was so nice to finally get to see Simon again too, cos he kicks so much ass. Anyways, so we headed up the road to Traffic, which was booked out for Ayna’s party. It is SUCH a nice venue, I am so totally going to have something there sometime. It’s the old Indian restaurant that used to be public loos before that (yes i know, it sounds wrong but it’s just so right). One round room at one end had a tiled floor, and a fresco ceiling and turntables set up in it, and the other round room at the other end had a pretty blue ceiling that ended up looking like the ceiling at the Civic to me, and persian rugs and low couches, and in between those rooms is an area with a pool table, and then another area with a regular nice kinda bar in it, and it’s all painted dark red, adn there’s a fire in the bar bit. So yeah, fantastic venue. And there was just such a good vibe going on, cos there were three people having their birthdays, so it was all friends and the place was full, and it just felt really nice. Lotsa djs took turns playing, and it was all fullspectrum drum&bass and also lotsa different kinds of hiphop, and there was a guy mcing over the drumandbass at times, so it was very cool. I danced my ass off. I talked to lots and lots of people. I lisped my way through half a little piece’o cardboard. Si Henry and I sat in the corner of the chillout room for ages and ages and ages, covering a heatvent up with a plant cos it was too hot and I felt like iw as going to die from laughing so hard at them singing a little worker’s song – stampy stampy sorty sorty stacky stacky. If only i had a song like that, I’m sure my workdays would fly by too. At some other stage of the night, a girl pulled out a container of kalamata olives out of her bag, and Si had a sack of pistachios. I love Wellington people who carry backpacks! I wormed my way into conversations with random people when I got bored,a dn defended the “dark arts” that I studied before finally hearing that one of the guys I was talking to worked in Communications anyway. I suggested that someone run around the block if they had too much energy and lauhged soundly when they actually did. I danced and danced and danced and danced, adn then I danced some more. The music was amazing and everyone was dancing so well. I love poeple who do mad things with their feet. It was such a good night! Si left sometime around 12, and I thought about going with him cos he’d said his flatmate was away so I coulda crashed there and saved cabfare, but i was having far too much fun. I didn’t really get much of a chance to talk to Ayna,b ut she seemed really happy that I was there, so that was cool. One very e’d up girl who I’d never met before hauled me to my feet and told me off for crossing my arms in front of myself – “you don’t have to cover yourself up! you’ve got a beautiful body (with a little handmovement curvy drawing thing too)! don’t you like yourself?”. She was scary and made me self concious, wheras before then I’d been far too happy and comfortable and mellow and chilled out to even think about shit like that (oh and i was wearing my cleavage top, which I love). Eventually I just sat on a couch on the dancefloor for hours, having a long and engrossing conversation about the history of Soul Music (“I love hte vibe,” he says, and then he says “let’s just sit here and enjoy it” and he leans in even closer, puts his head on my shoulder and we almost fall asleep). And then I walked him across town and had ot leave in Cuba Street cos there wouldn’t have been any more taxis, and the driver was just grinning at me going “so you had a good night did you?” cos he would have seen the dithering, and hte hugs and the kisses on the cheek. And I smiled all the way home.

    This morning Mummy woke me up for brunch – pancakes and bananas and pig, and she wrote me a list’o things to remember, and then they left, and I floated around the house all afternoon. This evening i went to another PR function, this one held in the Portrait Gallery of Bowen House. It was okay – I talked to some people. Steve Maharey (Minister of Tertiary Education and Broadcasting) gave a speech, adn then I went and talked to him and he gave me the name of the guy who runs his media unit so that i can express my interest in working htere. No one flat-out offered me a job. Then I went to see Anji, and she didn’t have a key to our house and i knew I’d locked myself out. I went home to meet up with KateB but our neighbours were out, and the laundry window was shut, so Kate and I had to drive back to town to Karen’s to get the key off her. My time down here is going to be so hectically social. Everyone wants a piece’o me, and while I want a piece’o everyone too, right now after last night, I think there are people that I want more pieces of than others. I’m filthy. Except that I’m actually not, because once again, when I actually really like someone, I respect them far too much to make a move. Darn.

    Comment » | Journal

    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.

    Comment » | Journal

    etc

    August 12th, 2002 — 7:08pm

    Monday August 12th

    Most of the weekend was made shit because of the tremendous inconvienience of the fucking film crew in our house blocking off access to the bathroom, phoneline and even electricity for my computer. GRRRR. There were good bits though, like going for a drive with KateH to try and find food – apparently almost every cafe has a closed kitchen at 4.45pm, but I wouldn’t recommend Fire&Earth just cos it’s open – the food really is mediocre, and the service is SLACK and it’s overpriced for what you’re getting. But Saturday night was cool at times – Bo and I went to the Temple to see the rogues play (that’s not their actual band name, it’s just the rogues’ band – you know, Leo and Berrin and Chris and Will, although I guess Lawerence is the original rogue but he’s not actually in the band, he just dances madly and there was a girl there who coulda been his doppelganger in a skirt). We did spots before hand, and then Bo made me walk down that really really steep street off City Road and through the carpark, and I just couldn’t do it, it was really really freaky, and I thought that there were cliffs and she kept pretending like she was going to jump off them, and that coupled with her Coyote Ugly impressions were just sending my head swimming. The rogues were really good, except for oh wait, I actually don’t really like reggae very much. But it was weird to see Leo singing, when he’s normally so quiet and stuff. He was goood though.

    And today I had to do a client presentation, and Haley gave me strict instructions to dress all in black, so I wore my new black shirt and my getting old short black skirt, and put my boots in my backpack cos I can’t walk down hills in them, they’re purely just for looking like a hoochie in (except in this case, it was a corporate PR hoochie look I was after). We had Brian Edwards lecture us this morning, and he was fucking excellent and really really interesting. Next week we’re having Nicky Hager, the king’o self PR. And we’re also going on a field trip to Westfield Newmarket for Corporate Communications. Exciting!

    Anyways, so I made it down the hill after my lecture safely and comfortably in my birkis, and then switched to my boots and raised my height and self esteem by about 3 inches. Haley and I were working on our presentation, starting from scratch, but then she wrote me a note, since we were working in a crowded office, and we started writing notes to one another, and it turns out we’ve both got a crush on the same boy (there’s not very many boys doing PR at all), and we both kept getting distracted by staring at him or trying to say witty things. And then when we were running through our presentations to practice, he kept trying to catch my eye and distract me, but I ignored him, excellent. Tehehehehhe. I did include in my note to Haley that I have crushes on a dozen boys right now, but in later conversations with Bo tonight, we narrowed it down to four or five. It’s just fun having a crush on a boy at tech, cos like, he makes me smile when I see him, and get all giggly, and that makes class much more exciting! So yeah, plus having collective crushes is all good when it’s not serious (well not yet it’s not). Anyways. So our client came in, and she was impressed with our appearances, so we fessed up that we’d both dressed in black on purpose and had probably spent more time discussing that than what we were gonna say to her, and we presented to her and Aline and it went okay despite being nervous. We’ll probably not get very good marks, but hey, at least that’s step one over. And now we have to start doing some actual work. Our client ended up honking at me and giving me a ride up the hill afterwards, which was excellent cos I was still wearing my uncomfortable boots. She told me if I didn’t want them, she’d have them, which was very flattering cos she’s very well dressed, and opening a hatshop next week that we’re invited to. She even said “I ordered two extra cases of champange when you guys RSVP’d cos you look like lushes,” and when I said that i was, she said I was a girl after her own heart. Excellent.

    But when I got home, I was just totally exhausted, too long spent in class and working and gossiping and giggling and being stressed out about formal presentations, plus I had a bad caffiene crash (normally I don’t have caffiene, but if I have a coffee at lunch, I tend to follow it with a coke later – like just one is not enough). So I took to my bed to read American Gods (SO GOOD) some more, and have a siesta, and woke up feeling much better. Then Bo and I went to Two Monkeys for noodles, and hung out lots. We had a big big analytical talk about an issue in my life, and we decided that her and KateH will suss it tomorrow night, and give me the full report back (Katie, don’t forget, you’re mine tomorrow – you WILL get to meet the boy (also, HA, I think it’s funny the way I will use ‘the boy’ a million times in journal entries and will be talking about many different people and I just expect you to know who I’m talking about), who incidently rang to talk to Clay tonight, except that of course Clay was out so he just talked to me for ages and ages, and I called him angsty and traumatised some more, probably in a sick attempt to make him so). We turned out the lights in the lounge to watch two cars get towed outside, and laughed a lot when we realised that the people in the apartment across the hall were doing the exact same thing. Oh yeah, things get pretty exciting in our street!

    Comment » | Journal

    mush

    August 8th, 2002 — 7:01pm

    Thursday August 8th

    Very very very much did not want to get out of bed today, as today is a Low Self Esteem Day. Or rather, a feeling that I am just very incompetant and untalented. Realising that there’s actually a boy in my class who’s kinda cute and intelligent made me perk up a little (I told Terri the other day that I’m currently at the stage where I’m almost developing crushes on Door Knobs and other inanimate objects). Plenary meetings brought me down again, just for a change, cos they’re so boring and frustrating and time wasting. Luckily this one ended twenty minutes early, so I was half an hour early to work, and I had Robyn’s zine to read on the bus on the way in, which was good. Choice even.

    I bought donuts for Skew Terri and Bridget for our WIP meeting. No really this doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that today I also did my application for Terri’s job. Actually it doesn’t really. I just have the feeling that Skew doesn’t like me and that I hassle him too much, and yeah, donuts seemed to be the easiest way to fix that. I had to make like 30 phonecalls too, checking contact details before we put out our second majorest publication, and mostly got people’s answerphones so I had to leave the same message over and over and over again. It made my head hurt a lot.

    And then I was walking home across the Grafton Bridge and it was freezing cold when suddenly there was a girl yelling at me out of a car, and I was like ???? but it was Annoushka (I’m sorry, I can’t spell your name), of course. I mean, it’s just logical that my sister’s best friend would be in Auckland, when I haven’t seen her in years, since waaay before she got married. But anyways, her and her husband gave me a ride home, cos they were staying in the same street, and it was much warmer in their car. And it also gave me the chance to test out my hypothesis that it’s quicker to walk home than face traffic at that time’o day – verdict is that it’s slightly shorter in a car.

    This evening I was moping at home alone cos my mind was just mush from too many meetings nad hten having to do horrible job applications and freaking out about the implications of me not getting the job (I am NOT going to have another bout of what I was like the last time I was on the dole, i am not i am not i am not (also, side note – I dreamt about K sometime last week, and in the dream she was telling me that she never gave up on me, i just got it wrong)). Bo was out babysitting and Clay was off filming some random short film somewhere (apparently our house is going to be taken over by vines tomorrow) and I was all Meh, so I was just parked on the couch, although there was nothing on TV and reading would have taken too much brain power. Anyways, BradC showed up, and I was like “clay’s not home” but then he pulled a piece of cable out of his pocket and was like “I can do your network now!” and looked all forlorn when I said that it was already done, so I invited him in anyways, and we had multiple cups of tea. So that filled in a couple of hours, and then he went, adn then I boiled kidney, haricot and pinto beans to make kickass chilli, and Bo came home and there was love and laughter again, and now I really should go to bed.

    On Saturday night, I am going to go to a hotel room at the Duxton to have drinkies. I receieved the invitation via web-based txt and I had no idea who it was from, but I conditionally accepted anyways, then got very worried when the person who sent it identified themselves by their first name only, without any lastname initials or preceeding adjectives or abreviations, and I was like WHAT THE FUCK? cos I thought it was someone else, but then it was just Jezza, so that’s cool. And then on Sunday, I’m going to play dressups with Kyla – yay! i like makeup and clothes and stuff. Planning ahead, it’s Bo and Clay’s birthday on the 22nd, and so we’re gonna have party-type things on the 23rd so that I can go to Matakana on the 24th. And that’s that.

    Comment » | Journal

    2-1

    June 24th, 2002 — 2:11pm

    Monday June 24th

    Can we have a Moment of Silence for the Evening Post please? I used to fucking write for them!

    Last night the evil fucking hell migraine/burst bloodvessel/head about to explode feeling jumped up on me very very quickly again, and freaked me out because I was close to feeling like I was going to die, clutching an icepack to my head and a wet cloth to my eyes, and feeling like I wanted to throw up from the intensity of it all. It came back caused by a little strain, so at least I know what brings it on, but not why it happens. It’s extraordinary how painful it is, and how sudden and crazy and stuff. If I still get it in two days time, I am going to have to go to a doctor.

    When I woke up this morning (after horribly vivid and disturbing dreams about having sex with one of the doctors on Shortland Street, made all the more disturbing by a possible undercurrent and also he was a premature ejaculator) the headache was back, not in the same magnitude, but still pulsating and not at all appeased by caffeine and panadol. That’s the circumstances that I sat my Communication Strategy exam in, head swimming nauseous circles, so I don’t really have high hopes, but I only needed 16/50 to pass the paper, so I’m sure I did okay really.

    Back at home I was still feeling sore and sick, so after chamomile tea, so Bops and I went for a drive to a pharmacy to get me some real painkillers. Ahhh, blessed nurofen plus! 400mg of ibupofen and 25.6mg of codeiene later, I was feeling better – not 100%, but definately better. Bops threatened to confiscate the drugs off me and only dole them out as I really need them. She has a fear of painkillers, I believe. Meanwhile, I worked out over lunch that every single boy that I have fallen for in the past five years has had a fondness for codeine at some stage or another. Coincidence or criteria? You decide.

    The rest of the afternoon has been mostly about studying Persuasive Communication, ie watching my video again (I still look ugly, but not as bad as I originally thought), and trying to decide on a secondary topic to persue. I was supposed to do Rowena’s seminar but a) I never saw it and b) I only just discovered today that the notes she emailed me didn’t actually convert to documents. So instead, I’m doing Communicator Style, as presented by Lauren. Of course, once I see the exam question, I might very well change my mind.

    Sleeping pills didn’t help me last night due to the massive intensive pains, but hopefully they will help tonight since they are coupled with the lovely nurofen. So we shall see.

    Comment » | Journal

    2-1

    June 9th, 2002 — 1:55pm

    Sunday June 9th

    Last night I finally managed to get out of bed and run away from my house that’s annoying me (HMG had her cousin come over, then went out, leaving her cousin just here with Clayton – grrr!) to KateH’s. We debated whether to watch ‘Casablanca’ or ‘Empire Records’ but the trash won, because really, who wants to be thinking?

    But I have done some thinking and now I have a list that’s four names long of people that I need to sort out my feelings for. Nothing like spreading the load! (and to you folks counting on your fingers – don’t).

    Today I woke up around one and stayed in bed for half an hour, plowing through “Possesion; a Romance” some more. I’m not entirely sure I like it, circumstances aside, it really doesn’t move me. But then I got out of bed to a phone message from KateH telling me to go over there again for Dawson’s, and so of course I did. I think I’m liking this new series, although it’s not like the old days when everyone would come over for Dinner&Dawsons before our Friday Nights began. Ahh nostalgia. Anyways, where was I? Describing the rest of my boring day, I believe. Right. So KateH had to go grocery shopping after that (and txted me to say that she saw KellyHJT buying brocoli, and that made me laugh because it’s cool that i have that kinda friend who knows that trivia like that is great). I borrowed her Moulin Rouge video, went to Mercury for pad thai (she accused me of being afraid to go back since the lady didn’t recognise me last time) and settled down at home for a nice lax-out afternoon.

    I was just near the end of Moulin Rouge when Clay’s friend BradC turned up, so I turned it off right after Christian and Satine said they loved each other, and so hey presto, happy ending! BradC had just dropped by “because he was in the neighbourhood” but I suspect he’s doing an early KateM, who always used to come over “to see BradM” whenever he was going out so she’d end up hanging out iwth me instead, cos Clay was on his way out to dinner and shook his head at leaving BradC with me. But I made him cups of tea, we abused one another (read: flirted (just for a change)) and watched Mexico-Ecuador. I picked Mexico 2-1, and of course I was right. I’m so clever and witty. My god, the Ecuadorian coach was funny; so Australian Westie Trash. Eeek, I swear, I’m not one of those clever sports people, really. Perish the thought.

    Anyways, I have exams coming up in eleven days time, and I need to get my wrists into shape by then, because there’s no way I can sit exams with my right hand paining me as much as it does now, so I’m gonna try and cut my usage of computer back to one hour a day, as well as doing other constructive & useful things like the exercises the physio taught me (and if anyone wants to give me a wrist massage, I will be wellhappy to accept it). To that end, I’m gonna wrap this up and go and read or something. Ciao!.

    Comment » | Journal

    Back to top