Hubris.co.nz

Last week was totally exhausting. Actually, the week before that was exhausting as well. But I can say quite definitely that it also contained one of my top career highlights so far, so that’s pretty awesome, right? Should we mix it up and go topically, or go chronologically like usual-ish? I guess if we go chronologically, I will remember more about my time in Sydney, so let’s start there, shall we? And if you don’t like that, then perhaps you could leave me a comment to register your discontent. Rad.

Sydney and FullCodePress

So, as you will no doubt recall, I tried out for Full Code Press, and didn’t make the team, so the lovely Tash suggested that I come along anyway as volunteer. It meant a flight at some ridiculous time in the morning, but also my first Koru Club experience in 15 years or so. I love Air NZ’s newish inscreen entertainment screens, especially since a flight to Sydney involves stupidly long amounts of time on the tarmac. I got to meet all the Code Blacks people that I hadn’t already met, and it made me chuckle how we all had webstock satchels.

My hotel wouldn’t let me check in early, so I went and had a walk around Darling Harbour, having breakfast, reading the (tabloidy) paper, drinking average coffee and enjoying it being t shirt weather. I went back up to the hotel and they still didn’t have a room ready, so I sat sulking in the lobby for a bit before I rode the monorail and went and got a very nice pedicure inside the mall. And then, finally, I could check in. This was my room:

The bedroom looked out into the super huge giant atrium, and the living room had these awesome nighttime views:

I like views of the city at night. I also like getting to finally have naps, and wake up and have Kate B be there, and I like going swimming with her, and then drinking wine with her and looking through her portfolio. I like that her web work is pretty much the opposite of mine, it being all advertising, all flash, whereas I am all advocating for accessibility, in theory if not quite so much in practice.

Anyways, so Kate and I sorted out our hair and jumped in a taxi to go and meet up with her friend Rob and The Mayor of Newtown, at a pub called Cooper’s that was not dissimilar to the Southern Cross with its outdoor terrace. There we compared handwriting, broke glasses and spent a very long time trying to decide where to have dinner. The Mayor’s initial suggestion of a place across the seat was vetoed by Kate on account of the bad lighting, and my criteria was that it needed to have wine. Eventually we set off for a different Vietnamese place, but it was closed, so we went to find a different one. King Street is almost exactly like K’Road, in terms of architecture and people and shops and eateries. We found a Vietnamese restaurant that may have been called Viet Maison, which had a Tiki-Bar although I didn’t see that initially, and OH MY GOD, we ate the most fantastic food – soft shell crab with garlic butter, salt & pepper eggplant, crispy pork hot pot, duck pancakes, lemongrass tofu, coconut rice, oh my god oh my god oh my god. It was so fresh and amazing. I want to eat there every day. Can’t we swap half Wellington’s Malaysian restaurants for some more Vietnamese places? Please? Kate broke another glass, and so we went to another bar called Zanzibar. The Mayor bumped into a friend of his who was in a band and owned his own tiki shack. I’d had enough wine that I was struggling to not imply that the friend was in INXS. It was 1am before I knew it. It was very much fun.

The next day was FULLCODEPRESS so I found my way down to the Conference Centre, and then into the Exhibition Centre, which is the largest building I have ever seen. It’s like, a kilometre long, at least. The FCP stuff was taking place in the middle of all the shiny technology exhibits, so it looked like this:

I hung around for a bit while they were just getting started, and was given access to the official FCP blog, and then I went and met my cousin Jacinta for lunch. She took me to a really lovely Thai place past Chinatown, and I shamed myself by being unable to finish my chili and basil tofu because it was too hot. Laaaaamer.

Another swim and a nap later, I was ready for the FCP lock-in. My role was to blog and twitter about it using the #fcp09, to talk to the nice judges, and to try and sniff out mysterious smells in the media room. It was lots of fun. I also enjoyed making Clint from Rainbow Youth dance for me. Okay, so I wasn’t really helping anyone very much at all, except in my capacity as entertainer. I still felt good about being involved. But not so good that when 2am rolled around and people started sleeping that I didn’t feel stupid for being there when I had a nice hotel across and up the road waiting for me, so I found a security guard to let me out and had a heart-pounding but brightly lit walk back.

I had wanted to get back to FCP by 11am in time for the finish, but that zopiclone, she is a hard task mistress, and it was not to be. Instead I went and ate barramundi in the sunshine. That was lovely – trying to find the FCP annoucements was not so much fun. In fact, I felt somewhat like I was in The Twelve Tasks of Asterix when he needs to get a piece of paper signed. Not a single “information” desk in all of the kilometres of building actually had the information. In fact, a couple of them gave me unformation, and sent me miles off in the wrong direction. Luckily I eventually found some of the judges, but not before I had discovered a conference called “What causes happiness?” (apparently, cupcakes for afternoon tea causes happiness) which would be a nice counterpoint to the conference I’d see the next day at the Powerhouse Museum called “Depression in older people”. Anyways. I got there just in time to hear the judging, which was really really interesting to find out what makes a site good, according to the experts. And The CodeBlacks won! Hurray us! And hurray charity, as I wrote about in my work blog. Etc. So really what I should write about now was the cat-herding required to get everyone to the Pump House for drinks, and then off to the Spanish area for dinner, but everywhere was full so we ended up in a really old Greek restaurant where the lamb was tasty but I suspect that the vegetables had been cooking probably since it opened in the olden days. People appeared to be flagging so I taxied back to my hotel, but they actually stayed up drinking until 2am. Good for them!

The next day was a nice sleep in, a leisurely checkout, then freshly squeezed juice to treat my swineflu/airconditioning flu, and i set off to the Powerhouse Museum. More walking. I was determined to get there because I’ve always been impressed with Seb Chan’s work, and I really enjoyed it, although the ghost figures it used were spooky, and there were a lot of school children loitering about. Who are they to enjoy the culture? Pah! I was hungry and their cafe was uninspiring so I walked down to the madness that is Paddy’s Market, purchased a light shade and two Chinese cigarette posters (in case we ever start an opium den in the tiki shack), and kept looking because I didn’t feel like foodcourt Asian. In fact, I walked all the way back to Darling Harbour and made my way down all the cafes, looking for a plate of fish’n chips that would be under $30. In the end, I came to a place with an adequate bbq, and beers that I guzzled down, but because I had so much time left and I didn’t want to walk anymore, i plonked my fat ass down at the Lindt Chocolate Cafe to eat a degustation plate by myself. Mmmmm. I left with a sea of brown floating around in my eyes, it was so intense. Back to my hotel to collect my bags and be collected by the shuttle driver, and into Sydney Airport. I made my way directly to the MAC counter as soon as I spotted it, where with the lady’s help I purchased a Russian Red red lipstick, but she lacked a matching liner and advised me to look at other brands. I also bought a compact of colours from their special collection that no doubt I did not need but I dearly wanted. I pulled up a seat at the bar, and strangely enough, the other NZers found me there. I watched In Bruges on the plane, and thoroughly enjoyed it, along with the pie I got. I also thoroughly enjoyed getting home to my own bed.

Cupcakes and Mini Webstock

Now I’m not sure if you remember, but after Webstock earlier this year, I made cupcakes for Tash and Ben and Mike and Deb to say thank you so much for their hard work. Well, it turned out that they liked them so much that they hired me to make 100 cupcakes for their third birthday party. Here’s a photo of how some of that looked:

Because I am slightly insane, i decided to make six flavours – vanilla w chocolate frosting, mocha, lemon & cream cheese, mixed berry & white chocolate, gluten-free chocolate and almond, and vegan pina colada. I ended up pretty much drowning in batter and my stomach hurts just thinking about the leftover icing in the fridge!

The Webstock Mini night made it all worthwhile though. It was a lovely chance to get really dressed up, hang out with my besties, try to corrupt Alan, and heckle people drunkenly via Twitter. Even if i did end up drink at the Malt House – at least they had signs up saying they were renovating the male bathrooms and were hopefully removing their incredibly misogynistic urinals.

#GOVIS09 and twicking up

That was the Tuesday. On the Wednesday I was at work until after 11pm, duvet and all, struggling to sumarise 18 months of work into one 34 minute slide presentation. According to the Twitter feedback, I did quite well (scroll down) – or here or ,here – the problems of multiple identities! Once I managed to get some proper cafenet access and had a chance to read all that, well, I was just completely blown away and may have had a little cry. I definitely had a hugely swollen head and cut’n paste the praise into an email I sent to my whole family. It was just so amazingly nice to be acknowledged for the work I do – even though, or especially because there’s like 40 days left of me working there. It’s a tiny bit of a “oh, are you sure you’re doing the right thing, SSC?” and also a “I know that I am smart and talented and can be employable”. There were drinks, and I met a stalker who brought me wine then there was dinner at Roxy. It was tasty and entertaining, even if I had to talk to Australians for ages. Oh god the pain of it all!

The next day at the conference, I felt much much more secure and safe and smug, and more people wanted to talk to me. I even started calling myself a ‘social media expert’ but you must believe that I was saying it as if I was saying “I’m Rick James, Bitch!” Nat’s closing speech was of course my favourite of them all since I missed Matt’s but his was very highly regarded too. It was fun. I learnt things.

And then there were drinks. And more drinks. And a lot of fish on sticks, and hot roast beef sandwiches, and homemade pistachio ice cream, and more drinks, And then I ended up going to Hummingbird for the Tweet Up, and then I went to China Delight for dinner with the Toms and some new friends, and then we went to Hummingbird for a drink or two more. Alisa left my old work to manage the bar there so it was nice to catch up with her.

My weekend and the future

There has been a lot of sleeping and trying to stay warm. There has been feasts at Siem Reap. There’s been a lot of twitter time. There’s been a lot of duveting. That’s really about it. Tomorrow I go for an eye example, since glasses are still subsidised at work. Then on Tuesday I’m going to EAP to plan for the future. After that, well, who knows? I could use some quiet times but I’m not seeing a whole lot of that happening any time soon. I am more confident about being hireable based on GOVIS though. Career highlights are nice.

Sleeping and so forth

It is odd to have bedded two people in such a short space of time, (although my record is still 3 in two weeks in 2003) because of the contrast between the old and the new. It’s also redonkulous that I’ve bitched and moaned about wanting to be able to actually have sleepovers, but when it comes down to it, I had to leave a warm bed and go out into the cold cold night because of how I am physically incapable of sleeping without taking zopiclone. Doing a line-by-line comparison would be amusing for me but also totally totally inappropriate, so I will just leave the public exposure of private things to the contrast between my necklaces clacking together as my head moved back and forth, and the moment of having a lover gently unclasp my necklace, which seems to be even more of an intimate act.

Auckland is always such a city of contrasts. I got to Wellington Airport with much time to spare, so I read the paper cover to cover, perching preacriously on a stupidly slippery stainless steel stool, after surrendering my armchair to an army of annoying angry women who surrounded me and chatted incessantly and loudly. Of course being there early meant my flight was late coming in, and so in a hurray I decided to take a shuttle to my hotel instead of the airport bus. $26 bought me a seat with nine others, a long trip through Grey Lynn past Heather’s house and Canton where I was due for dinner, and I was the last person to be dropped off. Dammit!

But there was no time to fume. The Quadrant’s lobby was stark white and filled with scented candles. I rolled my bag down the long white walkway through the bar area and into a lift that had an embedded TV screen playing Juice. My room was tiny but functional. I discovered to my perverse joy later that I could sit on the toilet, blowdry my hair, drink vodka and watch TV all at the same time. What more could anyone want? A quick shower later, I was in a corporate cab from the Hyatt next door on my way to Kingsland. The sun was setting and reflected in all the shiny new architecture along Symonds Street. It was a beautiful view, but holy fuck, $18 for that distance? That amount would have got me to Greenlane in the olden days!

I grabbed two bottles of wine from Weta Wines, pleased it was still there and still open, and headed to Canton. There were still people at the table I’d booked (bastards!) so I went and stood on the street outside. Bopha came up and left to get cash and wine. Amy & Ross came along and left to get wine. Then came Martina and Heather. Robyn and Heather’s b/f Ben eventually completed our party, since Clay and Nige flaked.

I had been salivating over the prospect of dinner at Canton since I booked my tickets up to Auckland, and while the large group and noise of the place made converastion difficult, the food didn’t disappoint. As usual, I was appointed/appointed myself chief orderer, so with some deference to Martina’s vegetarianism, we had: black bean hapuku, sweet & sour pork, sizzling venison with ginger & spring onions, crispy roast pork, special black chilli chicken, sizzling vegetables and egg noodles with fried veges. YUM! Two people took doggie bags home, and with tea and dim sum and rice and corkage, we each paid $19.25. So good!

Afterwards we were going to go to Ruby for more drinks, but it was too loud, and so we settled on the Kingslander for a couple more bottles of wine. There were television screens EVERYWHERE, it was most distracting. But good to be able to converse. I like my friends. I cabbed back to the hotel eventually, and debated ordering porn from the in-house video system, just because I could, but it was $17.95 per movie, so I settled for watching Wild On: Naked instead. Genius.

The next morning, I set my alarm for 10.30 so I could wake up to meet Heather who was coming to the hotel at 11. We discovered that breakfast stopped being served at 10am, so tragedy of tragedies, we had to go straight for bubbly and cheese. As we sat in the sunny courtyard and I started to burn, we heard someone playing an electric guitar, and the sound bounced off the building next door. Given that Heather’d spotted John Toogood and Phil Knight in the lobby, we were happy to think that it was Shihad playing in our hotel, but it sounded pretty terrible, so maybe it was Grinspoon instead, who were due to be opening for Muse that night.

Once the sun got to be a bit too much, we tried to pay our bill, which took forever (the staff were friendly but not highly competant), and we got changed and went into the spa. Hurray! Yeah, a spa on a hot day after drinking caffiene and alcohol might not be the smartest idea ever, but it was loooooooovely. And then it was quite obviously time for lunch, so we strolled down to the Art Gallery, hoping to have lunch there, but found it was shut. Luckily Rueben at the New Art Gallery was open, so we parked ourselves on one of the balconies there, I had an average lamb salad, Heather had amazing french toast, and we had a totally unnecessary but very happy bottle of Deutz as well. Mmmmmm indulgence! And then just to show that we’re not totally cultureless, we went around the art gallery too. Upstairs was an exhibition called Making Worlds, which was really bloody cool. They had a seven minute animation loop called “City Glow” going on in a darkened room, which I totally could have watched all day. Although it made me feel far too Jessica Simpsony lame and pointless when I saw it was produced by Takashi Murakami and I was like “He did those brightly coloured Louis Vittion prints!”. Like I need to know that.

Eventually Heather and I parted company, and I went back to the hotel for naps and snacks, before KateH came to pick me up in the evening. We went to her beautiful house which is down by the water, and had a few drinks while we waited for the Checks and Grinspoon to get off the stage. Drive-thru burgers from Wendy’s ensured that our timing was perfect to actually get a park by the Waitakere Stadium, and we’d only missed two of Muse’s songs. We’re both so old now that we didn’t mind that at all. When did I stop queuing for things hours before they began? Was it around the same time that my knees started to go? But anyways, the gig was AMAZING. So good. When they played ‘Hysteria’, I had an auralgasm of the kind I hadn’t experienced since Dimmer. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm! Totally matched up to my dirty dream that featured it prominently in it. And we saw Amanda and Darren, which was nice, and left when they turned on the lights. And then we were naughty and had an after-hours spa back at the hotel, which was fantastic for sore feet and knees, especially since it was merely lukewarm. Best Friday EVER!

The next morning was Saturday, and I slept in, loving the bed, before I decided it was time to drag my ass out into the streets. I strolled down to Gloria to have breakfast, where my French toast wasn’t as good as Heather’s, but the coffees were nice and I read the paper cover to cover. Then I got on the link bus to go to the museum, but I started feeling all nostalgic and weird, because of all the memories of the route (which are detailed in ‘Link’ in 101 Stories that I want to tell you of course) and so I decided to just stay on the bus and go all the way around the city. Well, I got off briefly in Ponsonby to buy vodka and bread, but you know what I mean.

Finally it was time for me to meet Martina and David and also Karl at the Queen Street bus stop to go to the Lynfield YMCA for the wrestling. Oh yes. I went west, life is peaceful there. I went west, people had terrible hair. The ride on the 257 was pretty full of nostalgia too, given the two flats I lived in on/off Dominion Road. It was also interesting hearing other people’s stories, like where they lost their virginities. And drinking vodka from a ginger ale bottle made me feel like a fourteen year old again, and who doesn’t like that? We got to Lynfield with some time to spare, so we hunted out food for the boys, and I sang the YMCA song a lot with the actions, and we took this photo in front of the vets. And now I might just revert into a photo montage to sum up the awesomeness of the wrestling, and my brand new boyfriend with a spectacular ginger mullet.

After a cold long wait for the bus, we all started falling asleep on the back seat. Nevertheless, Martina and David came back to my hotel room for a while, and helped me polish off the remaining food and vodka, and I stayed up late watching E! again. Good times.

On Sunday I was expecting to have brunch with Bopha and Clayton, but she was stuck out west somewhere, and Clayton made other plans, so after checking out at 12 and leaving my suitcase with reception, I returned to Gloria to have a very very long breakfast by myself with the Sunday Star Times. Finally it was getting near time to find myself an airport bus, so I went to get my suitcase, and I asked them where the airport bus stop was, and they told me down on Symonds Street. So I rolled my case up to a stop in the hot hot sun, but couldn’t find any markings on it to indicate that the airport bus might stop there. I rang Maxx, and they gave me the number for the airport bus company, and I couldn’t find a human, but it did mention the route, listing the Hyatt which was right next to the Quadrant, so disgruntledly I rolled back up to the Hyatt, and the doorman told me the stop was right in front of the Quadrant. Cheers clever desk staff! So I was hot and stinky and smelly then, and worried that I might not make it to the airport in time, when a shuttle pulled up in front of me and told me he’d drive me to the airport for $15, the same as the bus, since he was going that way anyway. Yay! That shuttle totally redeemed the shuttle in. And so that was the end of my time in Auckland. Very good fun indeed.

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?