Hubris.co.nz

When I sat down and thought about a date to have my belated birthday party on, I texted the three people that form the core of my friendships in Wellington, to make sure that they’d all be free that night, and to reserve them in advance.

On Saturday afternoon, I got a call from one of them saying that he’d had to go to Auckland, and therefore wouldn’t be coming. Okay, two out of three is fine, and I was more concerned for his welfare. Then later, the second one called me, and said that surprisingly enough, complications had come up with something that was bound to get complicated anyway, and so he wouldn’t be coming. Righto. I’m aware that I’m being very much less than supportive here, and that makes me a bad friend, but when I hear through my SISTER about another friend being ***, when my sister doesn’t even know that girl, I get more than a little shitty. And this isn’t about the *** friend, it’s about the inevitable feeling of being replaced (ie: it’s all about ME. And also about the vicious circle of me becoming more pissy and less pleasant and therefore less desireable as a friend). At 9.30pm when no one had showed up and Anji and I had tired of taking photos of each other’s boobs (we were both in corsets, making us go “kaboinga”),

I decided that if the third person from that original trio didn’t show, I would move back to Auckland.

But then at 10pm there was a big rush and everyone (excpet for Karen) arrived within ten minutes of each other, of course. And then it was choice, and mostly very civilised, except for setting off fireworks in the backyard and forgetting that there’s a grannyflat with a very nice nurse called Eve who lives under us. Here’s a photo that doesn’t feature my boobs – or in fact, me at all:

Karen stumbled in very drunk very late and so I made up a bed for her in the study, and Al and Korina were the last to leave around 2.30am. I had a really good time, although someday someone’s really going to have to teach Joel that when you say “oh and this is my workmate”, the correct thing to say is not “but you don’t do any work, Jo, you just post on your site all day long”. Nevermind. There’s glitter on my sheets and also on Sebastian from my very good imitation of a pirate (everyone said I needed an eye patch – I said “I’m a good fighter and I’ve managed to avoid getting poked in the eye”). Miss Lisa Fur and I got to exchange Knowing Looks about something else too, and that was very amusing.

There’s also oh so much mess now. How can fifteen people trash a house so much? It just doesn’t make sense. And cleaning is something I’m pretty much very very over right about now, given that on Thursday night I broke into Mummy & Daddy’s house (oh okay, I used Karen’s key) and cleaned their kitchen and lounge for them as a nice surprise cos Mum’s been very stressed out lately. She rang me today and was very grateful, so yay, good times. And then I cleaned lots on Saturday to get ready for the drinks. Our house looked fabulous, by the way, with fairy lights and candles everywhere. Very civilised. It functions very well as a house for entertaining in, which is great even if my couches are so comfy that Al fell asleep for hours on one. So instead of cleaning yesterday, Anji and I camped out on the couches after a hearty lunch, eating leftover food (there’s still chocolate crackles and garlic bread and wedges if you’re interested, but sixty something jelly shots have been shot) and watching the last five episodes of Buffy Season VII, both of us crying our little eyes out over ‘Chosen’, of course. Keeping it spoiler-free, it’s the final speech that kicks back in as a flashback, with Buffy walking around in her living room wearing a fancy blouse that I can’t figure out if I love or hate, and then the girl with the bat and oh oh the tears they bucket out at that point, every single time I watch it.

I had a long conversation last night with Miss Fur about how dorky I am, in terms of how much trashy television I watch, and the Buffy obsession, and the reading of tabloids, but she says that my dorkiness could be endearing. Hmmm.

EDIT: Here’s another picture of me that Anji must have taken at the party and I rully like it. Please note the partial throwing of goats.

It’s funny seeing your old workmates on TV. I still <3 the Brandon Calhoon lookalike and the young gumshoe and the girl who shows her nipples while drunk , and the guy who was the only one of my workmates to come to my flatwarming afternoon tea muchly, but it's like someone said on NZm tonight, if you wanna talk conspiracy theories, my, what splendid timing! (This is some degree of sarcasm, okay? Good. So excuse me if I seem a little b-wordy tonight, I’ll get to the oh the pain angst real soon. I promise!)

Or, as I said tonight:

Jo Hubris says: wow that’s a bad dress

* says: which channel?

Jo Hubris says: 1
it’lll be on 3 as well

* says: hahaha russell

Jo Hubris says: hahaha drink!

* says: hahahaa!
man, the whole current affairs thing just keeps becoming more and more of a massive circle-jerk

Jo Hubris says:
that’s what I’ve been saying for YEARS
YEARS AND YEARS

* says: yeah
but I only really noticed recently

(speaking of which)

Jo Hubris says: Robyn got two PA shoutouts today

* says: yeah, noticed
I was a bit disappointed with her poem

Jo Hubris says:
yeah
i wrote nzidol slash tonight
it was much better

It was late one night at the Idol House, and Steve(n) had eaten so many Allen’s lollies that he couldn’t sleep. The sounds from the bed next to him suggested that his special room buddy Jesse wasn’t asleep either.

Jesse thought for a minute, and then realised that as a married man, it was his duty to fill Steve(n) in on a few details, so he did.
“Jesse,” said Steve(n) finally, “I want to save myself for marriage, but right now I’m just so frustrated, and my shiny young manhood is longing to find shelter. I know it would be wrong to sleep with a girl before we were married, but do you think…”
Steve(n) didn’t get to finish his sentence because he immediately felt a crushing weight on him.
“Steve my boy, tonight I’m going to show you no ordinary love. I’m going to take you higher. I’m going to teach you the missionary position” promised Jesse as he waggled his fingers in…..

Hahhaha.

And now the angst! After the black holes in Friday night, I was afraid to go into work, which meant that I got almost zero sleep, and then combind that with Daylight Savings, which even my internet boyfriend hates and it’s just a recipe for badness. And to make things worse, I ended up feeling like a character learning her lesson in an episode of The Brady Bunch, learning a valuable lesson never to gossip again – oh the snappage. But no one said anything bad, so that’s a good thing. Still, stupid having to shop after work, and stupid groceries whilst standing on the bus, and stupid non moving people, and stupid heat and stupid stupid uncomfortable shoes and then when I slipped on the outside back steps cos of the rain and fell and jammed my feet really hard again seperate walls, and arms and limbs went akimbo and I screamed I found that all I could do was sit there and howl for a good ten minutes, because this is how I am going to die when I am old and alone.

I’ve had my left foot elevated all night with ice on it earlier on, but it’s so fucking sore, and so is my neck, and so is my other foot, and so are my wrists. Time to break out the codeine shortly. Mmmm codeine…

Also, hurray, no more merkin!

As a follow up to the last entry, about which I received an email that said “I <3 the title of your most recent Hubris post - "Pavlova's Bear." It made me laugh heaps and I am still thinking about how clever you are. ", there were mini passionfruit pavlovas at my work drinks last night, and many canapes, to which I availed myself. That's rull bad England isn't it?

Right now I smell like old lipstick from sorting out my makeup, and I'm shifting uncomfortably because Sebastian or something else has happened to the long phone cord, and so I'm forced to sit on the other couch, and even though it's only half a seat shorter than what is generally viewed as my couch, it still feels wrong.

What’s fun is that I drove Ethel – Anji’s little blue car tonight. I haven’t driven in months, and Ethel’s a manual. She’s out somewhere, I’m procrastinating about tidying my room (my excuse is that I wanted to look up something on the Ezibuy website before I send back some of the things I ordered) and procrastinating about fetching another Gisbourne Gold beer. But at some stage I’m going to have to pee, and you can rest assured that I will be getting up to do that.

So, what have I been up to lately? Pretty much all same old same old. I finished a piece of writing at work that I’d been sitting on for months and months and months. I’d written it originally late, and then when I sent it to my umm mentor I guess you could say, he said lots of it was unnecessary and why did I write it and blah blah blah – all in a very nice and right way, and told me this other thing to write about, but I just was so not motivated to get it done, and weeks and weeks later I finally wrote something, and I thought it was too short but then I decided I didn’t care, so I sent it back to him and he said it was perfect. Haha. Funny. In non-day-job writing, I was asked if I wanted to interview Franz Ferdinand but I had to turn it down cos it would have just been too much of a hassle. But I just banked a $500 cheque, which is always nice.

I’ve had a bunch of horrible dreams lately that won’t be repeated here cos I hope I can forget them sometime soon. On Tuesday night Anji and I were cooking dinner together, and the front of one of the drawers broke off and she dropped it on my toe and I howled and howled and then I shook and bawled and bawled, and she was freaking out at me freaking out. It wasn’t the pain, it was the surprise – I guess it unleashed a flood of tension. My whole body ached right after that (and admittedly, it did split my toe nail). On Thursday after a couple of vodkas I was watching ‘Extreme Home Makeover’ – and yes, I did expect it to make me cry, like it does every single week, but I wasn’t quite prepared for quite how much. The girl whose house they were doing had some kind of mega allergies and cancer or something, so she was all bald and bloated, and reminded me a lot of how Emily looked after she had a brain tumour removed and came back to ASIJ. She died three days after her mother did.

Can we talk about something else right now, like maybe mad consumerism? I’m seriously considering buying a playstation, once Anji has paid off her credit card so I can use it to order from the Game Planet store. I’m going to get Singstar and an Eye Toy if I get one. Anyone have any thoughts and or tips or caveats to share with me?

Today we took back a lameass heater that didn’t heat to the warehouse, and I got my money back and proceeded to buy another non heating heater. Dumb. I also managed to spend another $100 on bathroom accessories (if you have seen the bad design of our bathroom, you will understand why they were necessary) and another zip up hoodie (fuck paying$200 for a Huffer), and Labyrinth, which y’all should come over and watch with me. I must have bought other things as well. Hmmm. Oh yes, casserole dishes and under-bed-storage boxes. And then we spent $162 at the supermarket. Money doesn’t grow on trees, you know. Sure would be great if it did.

I apologise for the blah blah blah of this entry. Maybe I should talk about politics instead. But no. Or the finale of ‘The O.C’? Made me weepy. But I’m almost at the stage where the Grainwaves ads have the potential to make me cry too. Ick. The noise in my head has stepped up to a roar most nights that I try to drown out with Hammer of the Gods. I wish I was a rockstar.

Bottle of champers drunk: check
Big ass chocolate martini in hand: check
Chocolate on the table: check
Crying at The OC: check
Friday night out dancing at 24 Hour Party People: oh wait….

I thought that ‘Extreme Home Makeover’ would clear me out properly. You know, you watch some cheesey ass tv, cry and cry and cry – even five minutes into a show when they’re introducing the family and you’re tearing up and it’s like “GREAT!” because you think that will be that, and you’ll purge for the rest of the week, but apparently that doesn’t count.

Bloc Party on Rove. I should be out dancing at 24 Hour Party People right now. I should have also learnt by now that I NEVER make it to this gig, or to Atomic, but I guess being so sick for so long made me forget that even when I’m well I don’t actually ever make it out. I don’t do exciting things.

I got a phone call from Katy today on behalf of a friend, whose parents have apparently been looking for her name online and coming up with bad stories on my website. The thing is though that I searched for her name on Google, and then on Yahoo, and I couldn’t find any dirt – unless you count drinkign vodka as dirty. But I suppose I will search further and replace her name with an initial. At what stage does one accept that the Internet is dead? I mean, I get these emails at work from Quality Assurance telling me that certain links are dead – but those links were from a news page in 2002, so it kind of makes me go “yeah duh”. That’s not talking bad about work is it? I don’t think so. I mean it’s not like I said THE DRUG CELEBRITIES ARE… Heh.

It’s just, I dunno. I thought I was over this. I mean, tonight, Seb was on my lap, and he was looking at me every time I made a noise, and I made noises because that’s what I do, and he was so worried, and hey, he’s a cat. So this means I can’t have human children, because I couldn’t handle it if they looked at me like that. And I would be a target for postal natal depression – or, you know, post-natal, even. Oh, and not to mention that it takes at least two to tango, and also some sperm to make babies.

Okay, so in searching out Said Friend’s name, I come across sentences like “And besides, Diane didn’t wanna share me with him and how could I go against that? ” and I’m just like “omg wtf?” because when it’s hard to articulate yourself, it’s ALWAYS best to use acronyms, right? LOL. Haha, I never actually say LOL. BUt it’s strange to be reminded of these people and these things. It’s also strange because I used to actually have a life, and it’s funny reading entries from the end of 2001 when I had this huge crush and I was all “wow, it’s so strange, I like him so much I don’t even know how to hit on him istead of just asking him for a fuck” and I’d laugh at that phrase except that’s actually what I used to do – and be quite successful at. What was the difference between now and then? Many kilos, but also many pills. Oh the pills. Maybe I decided that maybe I should go back on them because maybe they would help me get laid again.

My favourite entry that I’ve come across in the search is this one April 10th, but I just found the punch line and it makes me want to punch someone.

My sister must be super girl smelly for me to have finally had two periods in a row.

(friend) says: and I’m pretty quick so your rsi would be fine – Aww shucks.

Also: ha ha, I’ve rediscovered reading this old entry that my PR friend and I used to write notes to each other about a boy we thought was cute who ended up on the cover of a magazine professing his love for a particular celebrity – not one of the cocaine drug fiends, but friend-of. Heh. Anyways. Also, in this week’s New Idea is Penny’s wedding (Err, that’s Samantha and Kevin to you).

Double Also: I hearby declare that despite how lonely I am (and holy fuck, I’m lonely) I hereby pledge not to get to know anyone whose name I already know intimately. You’d better get yourself a nickname, stat. Too many people with the same names.

Tuesday June 25th

Just before midnight, that thing in my head snapped again, and the entire left side of my head started to throb and pulsate and ache ache ache. The pain was incredible, I hadn’t felt its like except for on Saturday and Sunday nights as well. I couldn’t take it anymore. I sat up in bed and cried for about fifteen minutes wondering how badly it would scare my mother if I’d rung her at that hour. My head was really freaking me out, and I needed it to stop. It’s kinda terrifying to feel like a blood vessel has burst in your brain. Bopha was fast asleep with two exams the next day, and Clay wasn’t home, so I ended up canvassing opinions via txt, until someone agreed with me that yes, maybe I should go to the hospital since I’d been in pain for three days and it wasn’t getting any better – in fact, it was getting worse (and I know I don’t say enough good things about you sometimes, so thank you, I’m so glad to know you’re always there for me when I’m having a crisis, and you know I’m always there for you too, if you need me). I woke Bops because I had no money for a taxi, and she offered to come with me, but I said she shouldn’t, because I knew we’d end up waiting hours and hours, and because I was crying and in pain to the point where I could hardly talk, and because of her exams. I managed to scrape together $5 in coins, which was just enough.

I felt so fucking stupid, telling hte guy at the counter that I had “a headache” because it sounds so goddam prissy and lame, but he was very nice and told me that three days was an extreme length of time, and he called me sweetheart in a really nice way. He took me to a room in the ER and left me there for ages, which I understand cos I know they have to prioritize. I held my head in my hands and felt nauseous, and listened to the staff calling for diazaphan for the guy in the room next to me who was having fits. That made me feel kind of like a fraud, but there is only so much pain and misery a girl can take. It was a fucking hard call to make though, having to take enough responsibility for myself to seek treatment. Meh. Eventually a nice nurse called Jayne came along and took me to another room, and gave me a wristband with my name and phone number on it, and told me to get undressed and put on one of those funny hospital gowns. I’d be expecting them to just shine a light in my eyes and tell me I was pathetic and wasting their time, so I was like “umm, you have the right piece of paper right? I’m here with a headache?” and she laughed at me. Once I’d changed, she told me to lie down on a half propped up bed, took my blood pressure and pulse, turned out the lights and said the doctor would be in to see me soon. I think it must have taken about an hour for him to get to me, in which time I just cried like the big sooky girl I am, because it hurt, and because I was lonely and because I just wanted my mum. I really wished that there was someone who I could have called to go with me, that I wouldn’t have felt bad about asking, and so I decided that I need to have kids as soon as possible cos I figure by the time they’re 15, they can drive me and also, they’ll be completely obligated to me and everything, so I won’t need to feel guilty, and they’ll be matyred to me. And yeah, I know that when my darling friends read this, they’ll all be like “you could have called me” but how do you call someone at 12am and say “hi, I have a headache, can you please get up and come to the hospital and wait a couple of hours with me?” It just doesn’t work like that. Still, Auckland Hospital is a scary horrible place to be alone in. It was miserable and I considered putting my clothes back on and running away, except that it wouldn’t have been running, it would have been a very slow, very painful crawl, and I would still be worried about what exactly was going on inside my skull.

Eventually the doctor came and examined me and asked me all the same questions that the nurse had asked me. He said that everything seemed fine, but that I had done the right thing to come in, and he told me that I didn’t have meningitis, which hadn’t even crossed my mind. He said that although I had no history of them, it might just be a particularly violent migraine, and said he would work through levels of pain relief with me, from basics, to heavier, to hooking me up to a drip and keeping me in overnight if need be. This meant sending in a nurse with panadol and voltarin and a glass of milk which she ordered me to drink to counteract the nasty stomach munchingness of voltarin, and leaving me for half an hour “to get some sleep”. Righto. I started tripping out, and could feel the pain in my head breaking free and floating loose, and then working its way into a little knot by my eye. What the fuck is it with hospitals and their fucking panadol? It’s like the time when I got hit by a car and they gave me panadol, only this time i wasn’t drunk and abusive, and I wasn’t inflicting hours of waiting torture on James and Maree. Anyways, finally my doctor came back to re-evaluate me. He said he was happy to keep me in overnight, but he thought that I’d probably sleep better at home and that was what would probably do the best for me, as long as he gave me some more pain relief before I went. Knowing that I had an exam in six and a half hours time, I agreed with him, so he dosed me up on straight codeine, wrote me out a script for some more, ordered me to see my GP as soon as possible for follow-up and gave me a piece’o paper detailing my tragic story.

Of course, I’d used up all my coins on the taxi to get to the hospital, and in my zonked state, I decided that it would be a good idea to walk home. When I left the hospital I thought the moon was half full – by the time I got over the Grafton Bridge, it was full, and I was by the graveyard and I kept seeing things and I couldn’t feel my legs anymore because of the 60mg of codeine. Things were a little odd, to say the least. The sky was really clear, and all the branches were ghostly, and I was doped off my tits, and yeah, fun times. At least my headache had subsided to a dull roar though. It was 3am by that stage, and then I woke up at 4am when the drugs wore off and my head was screaming again and my chest cavity felt like my ribs were all imploding. Odd.

So of course, there was extreme lack of sleep, and residual dopiness from the codeine, and the headache was back as soon as I got up this morning, so I had to take more nurofen plus. I would have been bouncing off the walls if I wasn’t reduced to sliding along the floor. In my exam, it took me fifteen minutes to be able to focus enough to copy down the question to the top of my page, and that really really fucked me off. I did an appalling job, and I’m really upset, because I could have done so much better. I know my LTSA topic inside out, and I’d done well on going through the other stuff too, ducking in between major migraineness, but I was so vague and blurry and doped just to try and get rid of the fucking pain. I went to fill out compassionate consideration forms straight after, but they’ll only allow me a “pass” which I think I might just get anyways, not an actual indication of the good mark that I could have got if it wasn’t for all this bullshit.

After the exam, I went to pick up my prescription – more codeine and voltarin, lovely. Everyone from my Persuasive Class was meeting at The Playhouse for lunch and drinking so I went along, spaced out and only able to drink coke. But the girl I dislike more than anyone kept screeching in my ear, and I was fading fast after the quick pickup of pills, so I went home, told Clay that I couldn’t talk because I wasn’t coherant, and slept for four hours. When I got up, there were concerned phonecalls from Maz and a bigass gorgeous lovely bunch of flowers from KateH, stark contrast to being alone and miserable in a hospital bed. They also came over really briefly, and Kate told me she’d deliberatly asked for Serene, Calming flowers. Awww. I’m looking forward to my party on Saturday, especially since I’ve had to forsake alcohol today and BradC and Clay are currently drinking Soju in honour of Korea/Germany. I’m also foresaking hte soccer as well, because I just can’t handle. I’m so fragile and fucked, and if I move my head, it hurts. Arrgh. At least I get to go home to my mum next Wednesday.

We’re in some girlie strip club somewhere and the dancer looks EXACTLY like some girl I fucked a couple of years ago, only with bigger breasts, and so it’s a little odd for me, and Nikki’s like “txt everyone!” and so I do, and then I stop to pause and wonder how the fuck I got there. And then so I think things through, and it’s KateH’s birthday, and we’re BYOing at Caravan Serai, so there’s a couple of bottles going in me as well as some lamb and hummus or something and I’m talking to lots of Kate’s friends, and wanting to set Jarrod up with WellyBrad, but they’re both refusing to call each other, so oh well. And then I’m with Nikki and Nichola, and we’re in Nikki’s car, and then we’re parking and then we’re paying a cover charge and yeah.

Later Nikki drops me at Khuja, and I’m apologising to KateH for complaining to all her workmates about the music they play, even though I know that they agree with me, and I keep calling Lovely Paul on his cellie and laughing at him trying to figure out who it is. And then eventually I go home, and there’s lamb&rice turkish on the way home, and now there’s exlovers and tears and water being spilt all over the place and oh my god, this is too excruitating.

These are highlights from my journal that I kept in my red book in Australia. Obviously, it’s not everything. I was doing a whole bunch of thinking, and no one needs to read all of that. But these are the entertaining highlight parts.

Thursday 29/6/00

Interesting… Kini gve me directions to to the Sydney Museum, but I have a suspicion I fucked up, cos I’m currently sitting on the steps of the New South Wales Art Gallery. This is also fine with me. I realy should go to more exhibitions! Serves me right for following a bunch of school kids, I guess. Maybe Adrian can take me to the museum in the afternoon. For now, it’s lovely and sunny and the gallery opens in ten minutes.

My stomach is doing funny rumbly things. This is not a good sign! I spent yesterday at Kini’s house again, relaxing. Her room is so light and airy (it’s just like a CKone bottle, I’ve deiced) it feels like some expensive private clinic I’ve been checked into. Betty Ford perhaps. I’m going to clean up my addictions!

*****

Later – 11.30ish

Actually, I’m really glad that I didn’t make it to the museum, because the art gallery was realyl really cool. I know where the museum is now – i should have gone right out of Hyde Park instead of left to the Land Office that looks like a fucking museum! If I’d been wearing my contact lenses, I might have realised.

But anyways, I feel really good and cultured having been to the art gallery. I am so glad I did Art History in 7th form, because it helped me to understand things better. Plus the whole fact that we _had_ to go to exhibitions made it easier for me.

The first colleciton I looked at was 20th Century Australian Art. There wasn’t anything too striking htere, although I picked up on Colourfields, Impressionism etc etc. A couple of artists had work that looked a lot like Rita Angus. Next there was 19th Century Australia Art, which was kinda boring too, but that dissolved into International Stuff, and I became more intrigued. I love myths, and classics. I really oughta learn mre. I think when I’m in Welly, I’ll try and borrow some books of myths off Karen. One picture I especially loved was of Ipheginia sleepign, while this guy Cymon was staring, transfixed by her beauty. I want to be enchanting. I want to be beautiful. I think I’m tempted to start writing mythical stories instead of journal entries. The 21st century needs greater inspiration. Where are our gods? Christianity just isn’t as interesting. We need divine love, and loyalty and faith and honour and compassion and courage and revenge and anger. We need deities who can be humanised.

Off my soap box now. One other piece that really inspired me was this statue of a man, woman and child that was half carved into a flat surface, like the Athena Nike from the Arcropolis. The female clung to the male, in complete love, and together they held a baby. I hope I misinterpreted the look in his eye – it seemed almost as if he was thinking of someone else. But that’s probably just me projecting.

Then I went downstairs to an exhibition of contemporary art. They had a lot of stories of installations, without the actual works, which was kind of a shame. But there was lots of other cool shit as well. In one room across a wall there was a whole line of sardine cans, made in shiny metal, with trees groing out of the top and human body bits in the can. They were were quite breathtaking. The trees were exqisitely detailed, and the body parts were so realistic. There were penises and vaginas, sure, but the parts that attracted me were the curves of the back. I got to know one person’s back so well – maybe that’s symbollic. Or maybe not. In the ame room were beaded coral sculptures that seemed to float inside their glass cabinets. Beautiful.

I have fallen in love again. In one room of the gallery, the lights were dimmed and opera music was playing. A circular track around a pile of bricks had two projectors moving around, shining their images onto the bricks. The first was a close up of a man’s face. The second was his whole body, twisted by at rest. He was looking at me! I feel i know him so well, eyes pleading for me not to leave, to help him become real.

There was another installation nearby, where a huge screen took up a whole wall. Projected onto it was video footage of about 15 men, standing still. I went and sat down to watch, because they didn’t really keep still at all. It was really fascinating, actually. The young guy at the end didn’t seem to move at all, but eventually I caught him blinking. That meant I could leave satisfied. Art gallery padded benches are so comfy. I admit, I would love to fuck on one.

On the top floor of the gallery was a collection of black and white photographs by Olive Cotton. She’s amazing. Yet again, my favourite pieces were the portraits of Max, her two year husband, and the photos he had taken of her. I’m obsessed with finding true love I think. And I so want a man who’d want to take photos of me!

Now I’m sitting in Hyde Park near the fountain. It’s really windy, so every so often, huge big mists of water drift around. It looks amazing. Unfortunately, it’s starting to cloud over a little. I hope it doesn’t rain! there’s a man talking to a spunky young Dutch tourist on the bench to me – I think it’s so lovely when people are nice! The man’s gone now, so maybe I should volunteer to be tourguide! But then again, I’m scared it’s about to rain. I’d better go get underground. Brr!!

1pm

Tiny moments that make me believe the human race as a whole is going to be okay? An old woman in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the QVB sitting calmly on a bench pouring herself a cup of tea from a thermos.

Kni and I were driving home the other night, and the radio was tuned into some love songs request program. This guy rang up and was dedicating Chicago’s “Inspiration” to his princess, who’d made his life so much better even though they’d onyl been together 3 months. We were mocking, but it was so sweet that Kini started crying. And then I cried because I thought that was so unbelieveably cute and because I want to be someone’s princess too, dammit!

4.39pm

Goddam my fucking feet hurt big lots! I went to meet up with Olivia where I’d always met her – outside the posh foodcourt. She showed up, looking radiant as usual, and gave me my birthday present. It’s a tiara – yay! Just a little one, attached to a comb, and it’s very cool. Just before i met up with her, I bought myself a hair scrunchie. And when I say “hair”, that’s exactly what I mean – tufts of synthetic blue and blakc hair sprouting from an elastic band. It rocks!

Both Olivia and I were really hungry, and i had a hankering for some Chinese, so we proceeded to a foodcourt underneath Grace Bros. It was completely pack. Once we’d got our food – peeking beef and sweet & sour pork for me – we searched for like five minutes trying to find a seat. We had absolutely no luck, so we jumped on an escalator to find a bench to sit on. We found one – sharing with a very sleepy old man. It wasn’t the most ideal eating environment ever, but the company was great.

****

After lunch, we went to Woolworths Metro to look for red plastic cups like the ones they have at every single American teenage party. Kini promised that she’d seen them, but there was no joy. We searched the entire store. I almost bought a set of minature books for $1.20 but couldn’t ick any catergories. I also almost bought a crystal ball lamp, because they were only $13, but as Olivia pointed out, there was no way to change the light bulb inside it. Hmm, what a mystery! But Oh was very smart to spot the fatal flaw!

Then she had to go back ot work, and I had to go meet Adrian on the town hall steps. Because it was raining, Iw as waiting under the cover at the top of the steps when some dumbass doorman guy told me to move to the side. Like i was fucking blocking access! So I went to go stand in the rain, because I was feeling spiteful. He told me I could stay under shelter, just to the side, but I pretended I didn’t speak English. es, I was being dumb.

I was almost hoping that Adrian wouldn’t show up, cos IW asn feeling a little sleepy and not that sociable, but then he arrived. Since he had no plans, I suggested we should go to the museum, and he agreed. Since it was my idea, I paid the $8 each, and I’m glad I did, cos goddam, the museum was crap! I would have felt realyl bad if I’d made him pay for that! The first room was full of different kinds of skelatons – including a man on a horse called “The Bone Ranger”. Oh dear! On the mezzanine leve around the bone room were fascinating exhibits on rocks. Really really thrilling stuff! The highlight, of course, was passing the Gem Vault and having Adrian comment “you belong in there”. Heh. There was also a lot of dead birds and insects that did not hold our interest. We went to the Discovery Centre and looked at bugs under microscopes and cd roms, but restrained ourselves from going on that Internet thing. Kids World was only for 1-5 year olds, which is a shame because it looked like the most interesting area! Kini rang me while we were in the Evolution Area. She was like “where are you” and when I said the museum, she was like “Still????” so I had to explain. The dinosaur exhibit was boring as well, kids running crazy. We found their makeout room though, cunningly disguised as “the music room”. In some other section, there was a tiny little bug room that I folded myself into, although i’m not entirely sure why. So yeah, it was a crap museum, but it filled in some time, and at least I can say I did something. There was a sperm whale skeleton in the foyer – I said it was huge, Adrian thanked me.

Then he was feeling peckish, so we went to get some food at – oh god – Cafe Americana in the QVB. It was just like a cafe in Japan, only without hot towels and the plastic display food. I was feeling very sleepy by that stage- I could have quite happily put my head down on the table and slept. But that would have been rude. Adrian paid for my (crap) ice cream sundae, and we went to Soup Plus to make a booking for tonight. Then he took me to Coles, where we again searched fruitlessly for red plastic cups. He reckons they’re contraband in NZ – I’m not sure I believe him, eh! We were talking about Melbourne vs Sydney, and I suggested that the difference is that Sydney has no soul, much like Auckland vs Wellington. Adrian went hom, and I came up here to the Sky Pub in Kini’s building. I rang her to tell her – she really doesn’t seem to like the idea of me hanging out here for hours. I don’t know why. I’m only on my second vodka. And it’s not like anyone is trying to pick me up. They should be, dammit! I give great head! Maybe I should tattoo that across my forehead. Or maybe not.

Okay, it’s 6pm now. Kini should be down soon.

****

Did I mention that my bag strap broke? That really really pisses me off! I’ve had to carry it around clutching it all day. Not comfy! I’m also pissed off that i had to pay adult fare of $8.80 return on the train today. My student ids just weren’t good enough, apparently!

Gosh they play a lot of crap music here! Ah well, at least my second vodka was only $2. Happy Hour must be over – they just made a beeping noise. We’re supposed to be meeting Leigh in six minutes. Where oh where is Kini? She should have called. I should call her I guess, and go meet Leigh by myself. Or, after calling her, I oculd just meet her downstairs in ten minutes. What a great compromise! Olivia wants to go to Karaoke tomorrow, and has suggested that Kini and I stay over at her house afterwards and go to the airport from there. Anyways, I should probably get my shit togehter and go now xoxo

Friday 30th June

So, here I am for the last time on the train to the city. O nly this time, it’s the afternoon and I am by myself. Oooh brave me! I almost got on the wrong train, but luckily I didn’t. Oooh smart me!

I’m really sad to be leaving Kini’s house. I love her so much and it’s been so restful, just chilling and relaxing. I feel heaps calmer and way better equipt to deal with my life. I just wish it had never come to this in the first place! Ahh well.

Tonight Kini and I are staying at Olivia’s house, and hopefulyl going to Karaoke beforehand. It’ll be weird being in Oh’s house, just like it’ll be weird in Kate Benton’s room as well, I guess. I dreamt about Kate last night. We were going to the school ball with a whole bunch of people like Nicola, but then it was like 1am and we still hadn’t left. So then Kate and I decided to go to the casino instead. We somehow were in Mississipi then, and it so it was really hard to get a taxi. We ended up on some pushpull railway cart, being fed red wine by the two drivers. It was odd. Oops, I skipped two pages. Where is my mind?

Tuesday, June 13th, 2000

Fuck it’s cold! I wish I was back in the Lurve Tent. Yesterday Brad brought home a HEATER from his parents’ house, so I hung two sheets across the lounge to trap in the heat and make it more cosy, and it worked. Me and him and Clayton even all studied together in it to conserve warmth and stuff. It was cool. I actually even learnt a few things, explaining telecom stuff to Clay, which is just as well cos I ended up writing an essay on it today.

Yes, that’s right, I had my (fingers crossed) final exam ever today. And gosh, it was enthralling stuff. Me and Clay and Maree and Brad all wore scarves today, so we looked like a pack of scarfies driving in. No wonder the petrol station attendants laughed at me as I put $5 worth of petrol in the car Or as the attendant did it anyways. One day I will learn for myself!

But yeah, anyways, the xam was okay. I spent a great deal of thinking about Australia and about my upcoming birthday and about Dawson’s Creek and basically anything except the essays I was writing. Afterwards, we all went to London Bar, and I was really annoyed cos drinks were only $2.25 but I had my car so I could only have one drink. And then I started stressing out about money, and the lack of flatmate, and everything, and before you knew it, I was crying in the bathroom, but I guess that makes a nice change from feeling sick, so it was okay. Then we dropped Shirley home, and beat a swifty retreat home too, via Foodtown for wine and Wendys for dinner. Straight into the Lurve Tent, put the heater and TV on, and then Shirley and Jody showed up for Dawson’s.

So that was cool, having lots of people made it even cosier inside the tent. They stayed for Roswell too, so that was good. Actually, it was really weird watching it with a pack of analyzing girls. Kate M was pretty onto it though. And Jody was all like, understanding and shit, it was cool. She was very impressed to see the flat she’d seen so much of in my cd rom. Oooh, that’s right, it’s burnt now and handed in, wahoo! Now I just have a 15% report, and a 40% graphics assignment. Sweet as bro. Oh, and find a flatmate so as to cut down the bills. Maree rang me twice tonight while babysitting. I really really should cut off her privileges. Right now she’s having all the fun and support without the commitment – hang on, that sounds a tad familiar. Why buy the cow when you can sit on the horns for free?

Peter and Kate M were discussing my journal tonight at the bar, cos they’re both sometimes readers. Apparently, Kate M doesn’t like the fact that she gets the M put into her name, but I’ve known Kate B for like 14 years, so she’s been Kate to me for longer. I could call Kate M “Unpopular Kate” out of deference to Popular Kate H, but that’d sound nasty. And there’s already a Hairy Kate, and a Forni-Kate, so yeah, personally I think Kate M is better. Don’t you?

Oh yeah the other thing I did tonight was call up Andee, since she’d rung me yesterday but we hadn’t been able to talk for long since i had to study. Fuck, I love that girl so much! I had an awful lot to catch her up on, as you can imagine. She says the coolest shit, none of this namby pamby being nice like my other friends. Straight to the point, I ended up screeching my head off. She said she thinks Hugh is back in Hammy now – I am so going down there when I get back from Oz (FIVE SLEEPS MUMMY!) Other classic Andee quotes “fuck, Matt is so petty. I should email him!” which makes me laugh, even if it doesn’t you. I should really redo my quotes page in the whole blahblah section, since it’s like a year and a half old now, and not at all fresh and relevant. Boy oh boy it is cold. Wake up little toes! Time to take me to bed!

Thursday the 7th of January, 1999

I dunno, I just so feel like there’s something missing from my life. Now that Charly is staying with Amy, I have too much time to think, and this is resulting in me feeling all hollow. We all rented “the Ice Storm” tonight, and I guess that echoes my feeling of emptiness. Except you don’t see me sleeping with Mr Russia, or showing myself to Catholic Richard & Matthew. (Those are my neighbours in case you were wondering). It was so scary watching those freaks live out their loveless lives, just dying to get a little excitement. I mean, my life is excitingish, I guess, but I dunno…. when I was parking outside my house tonight, I just didn’t want to get out of the car. I wanted to stay in it and go somewhere. I don’t know where – I didn’t think that far.

I’m very emotionless these days (sure, I say that after bawling my eyes out after driving in a hole). Okay, maybe a better way to put it would be I just don’t CARE. Like, I told Annette I am SO sick of listening to my friends bitching about their men, and she was like “note: don’t bitch to Jo” but what I meant basically is that I can’t be bothered hearing Charlotte, and I don’t want to hear about Amy and Neil. Amy said tonight that she’s single, but I know that won’t last, and it makes me so helpless that I just want to wash my hands of it entirely. Does that make me fully heartless? Yeah I guess it does.

And there’s no one I’m lusting after right now. Not even like a crush. I don’t want Hugh anymore, I’ve decided. (Oh shock horror, there’s his name). That was just a slight infatuation stemming from how funny it is when he gets drunk and comes on to me. That’s another way that I’m empty – that I get more kicks out of turning people down than I would accepting them. I prefer people disliking me than not knowing me. “I’d rather be hated than pitied”. Go Go the Spice Girls.

Where is this all leading to? Maybe I’m just feeling like this because I am moving in four days and I don’t really want to. Maybe it’s the Aunty Flo. I played Quake today, for the first time ever, but I didn’t kill anything because I sucked at it. But I will learn. Yes please, I am a geek. No I’m not. I’m a giant hollow bubble, and I’m so fragile and I really don’t know what’s come over me. This is so Verdana. Next I’ll tell you about my lithium prescription and my new cigarette burns up my arms.

I can hardly remember the summer of 96/97. 95/96 is vivid, as is 97/98, but I guess maybe because 96/97 was boyless there aren’t so many associated memories. All it was noteworthy for is my first acid trip and the first Gathering.

Tuesday the 5th of January, 1999

I guess the fact that Oma rang me twice while I was still trying to sleep should have cued me into the fact that it wasn’t going to be a good day. At one I worked for three hours at Leonie’s, finally managing to finish cateloging all her Japanese books that she bought from my grandfather’s collections. How can one man have so many books? Have had, sorry. There’s a tshirt at the Markets that says “The man who dies with the most books still dies”. Mum wasn’t impressed when she saw it, for obvious reasons, but I had a good chuckle.

So yeah. After finishing work at four, I veged at home for a bit before Charly rang, wanting to be picked up from town. She said she’d hardly talked to Graeme all day that she’d been out with him, which I really think is a bit off, if she came to Welly to sort things out with him. So yeah. We had dinner and stuff like that. While she watched “Party of Crap” I came online and did a bit of work on my journal and stuff – I’m falling behind, sorry. (I know there are people that care, because I’m addicted to checking the stats page – which doesn’t make it go up). I’m so vain and self absorbed, it’s terriffic!

Anyways. Then we watched some more of the taped Glastonbury. Charly had the audacity to diss Nick Cave AND Jarvis Cocker. Some people wouldn’t know class if it ran them over in a green MG. I logged on to Ihug for her (since she doesn’t know how to log in, and she doesn’t have my password). I saw that the K Man was on, and I haven’t seen him for aaaaaages and I really really felt like talking to him, but Charly wanted a go, so I told him I’d talk to him in an hour. Sweet, cos he said he’d wait for me. So yeah. I went off and had a bath and shit (mmmmmmmmm rose oil and candlelight – that’s making me sound really seedy – oh well). And yeah, then after an hour, i went back into the computer room, bored and wanting to do my computery stuff, and she was like “oh, Graeme just came online” and she gave me OH such a sincere “Sorry”. So that just right royally fucked me off. I know that I’m too possessive about my computer, but she knew I hadn’t talked to Kamahl in ages, and that I have journals to do and I have people to talk to as well, you know? And I just have so little sympathy for her and the whole Graeme mess because she got herself into it. Okay, that sounds too harsh. It’s just that I know how fucking crap and pointless internet relationships are, and if there’s a problem, I’d rather talk it out than sit in silence and get on a plane and then sit in silence again.

Okay, so after that spew, what did I do? I was like “fine” and left the room, and went sulking into the lounge, where my parents suggested I go to town or something, since I couldn’t bring myself to kick her off my puter. So I did, rejecting the idea of going in my pajamas, so I had to throw on some clothes first. So yeah. I was so mad I was fuming by the time I got to town, so I’m glad I managed to drive okay. I went over a hedgehog before I realised what I was doing, but I think it was lined up between the wheels, so it should be okay. So yeah. I stopped into United Video, who tried to tell me that my prize was probably sent to Mount Roskill – bastards! Anji wasn’t at Axolotl, so I had a hot chocolate and talked to Kirsten and her friend Amber, who was really cool and we instantly got chatty. Then as I went to call Anji, I heard someone call out my name, and it was Nicola! So yay, I talked to her for a while, after finding out Anji was in bed. Although we email and talk on the phone occasionally, I haven’t seen her since Onslow ended. She was looking SO styley. Great hair. We’d sit in Economics talking about our hair all year long. No wonder I had to learn the whole course in a day long mass cram with Kate. We ended up getting exactly the same mark too, which is kinda amusing.

Anyways. So I walked back to the car, and bumped into Siobahn, who invited me and Jo to come out and play on Saturday Night – YAY since I’m going back to auckers on Tuesday. Mmmm. I got back to the car, and put Little Earthquakes on, which probably wasn’t a very smart idea at all. It came in right at ‘Tear in Your Hand’ and I suddenly got very melencholy, singing my heart out, and I just wanted to keep driving and driving, so I decided to take a long way home. Then of course, it was ‘Me and a Gun’ which made me cry. I mean, I’d been worked up enough as it was, but well, that song……. I was driving along feeling really really bad, when suddenly I felt something go bang, like I’d hit a dog or something. That completly freaked me out, and I started bawling, but I couldn’t stop because there was a car right behind me. As soon as I could, I turned around and went back, but I couldn’t see anything. I was so blubbering my eyes out, at the thought of having just killed an innocent animal and a beloved family pet. I was so freaked out that I’d go back and find a wounded animal and it’d look into my eyes accusingly as it died, but I couldn’t see anything. Then I remembered that there’s a big hole in that stretch of road, and that was probably what had shaken the car. I was so worked up by that stage that I just stopped the car in the Ngaio library carpark, and after checking the front of the car for blood, I cried my eyes out. Then I really wanted someone to talk to, so I drove past Kate’s house, but I couldn’t see any lights on, so I went on home.

I snuck into the house so quietly because I really didn’t want to talk to Charlotte, but she was waiting up for me. No sooner had I crept up the stairs than she told me that her and Graeme were all over (no duh). I mean, I do feel bad for her, and I’m a terrible friend and all, but honestly, there’s like nothing I can do. So I talked to her about it for a bit, and leant her a teddy bear. She didn’t ask me where I’d been or anything, so I don’t feel quite so bad.