Hubris.co.nz

The Yaz is gone, and I am me again. It is a glorious feeling. That doesn’t mean that I didn’t spend a large part of last night bawling my eyes out, but let’s get to that bit when we get to it.

I had a quiet week at work, which was well-needed because I’ve been working very hard and doing lots of things and stuff. Friday wasn’t so quiet, because we had All Rap All The Time Afternoon, and then we had a work cocktail challenge. I led the S&M team, although we were calling ourselves the Bucaneers (we’d had a pirate-themed week, because that’s what you do when you get sent funny pictures of your cow-orks dressed up at conferences), and we made a chargrilled pineapple margarita served in a pineapple, and then a Yo Ho Ho & a Damson Plum, which I based on my McKenzie training at Cupcakes & Cocktails. Turns out that was a mistake, and our drinks didn’t win because they were “too perfect” and “well-balanced”. What a travesty! An outrage! We also got called “middle of the road” which is probably the first and only time I’ll ever be called that. Luckily, we had to finish off all the rest of the ingredients, and so a very enjoyable night was spent playing Foozeball (We’ve started a Women’s Foozeball League, because we play slower, and squeal more), and sitting on bean bags on a balcony high above Courtenay Place. I ended up smoking cigarettes because people kept giving me theirs to hold while they went in for more beer, ugh. And my phone fell out of my bra and into the toilet. Whoops! Luckily Kim has given me her old one. I ended up going home via the Hawthorn Lounge to drop off their nomination in the TAWAs, and they knew who I was and gave us a discount. I am totally the Empress of the Internet.

The next afternoon I somehow managed to drag my rather under-the-weather ass into Monterey to eat their delicious brunch and gossip with Kelly. Once again, I had TAWA-business to take care of, and once again, knowing people paid off. We sat there for a couple of hours because we weren’t allowed to get pie until I had finished the sudoku, and I was seriously impaired. It took me approximately ten minutes to check in on Foursquare using Kelly’s phone because I was such a mess. The table squeaked like a kitten under my elbow and we giggled our heads off at that, and also at my ridiculous story of hilariousness, and also many other things.

I rediscovered this week how nice it is to kiss a boy, instead of the usual girls, and now I’m hoping for a groping. Someone feel me up, please?

Saturday night I spent at Lisa’s, making cheeseburgers in my slip because it was so very hot, and watching Community. She said I overhyped ‘Modern Warfare’. I don’t know how that’s even possible. Nevertheless, it was a very pleasant way to spend the evening. And then I came home to this:

Not the best picture, but suffice to say that the table on my porch had been knocked over, and there was blood ALL OVER the steps and dripping off the wall. My first thought was that it wasn’t blood, it was plum syrup, but the smell, it was intense and disgusting and terrifying. I actually was afraid to walk into the house, wondering if someone had decided to put a hit on me or something, and then I saw the cat fur all over the the place and started to panic. Sebastian usually comes running to meet me when I’ve been out for a while, but he wasn’t there. He was nowhere in the house, and didn’t come when I called and called. I totally freaked out and started bawling. I tried to call Karen since she was the nearest, but my phone wouldn’t connect the call. I started freaking out all over Twitter instead, until I heard a mewling, and Seb was at the front door. He was covered in blood and was acting really funny, so I tried to clean up his wounds as best as possible, and tried to calm down, after crying some more in relief that he appeared to be okay. But he was way lethargic, and was hyperventilating, and there was so much blood all over the porch. Some internet checking made me terrified he was going into shock, so I decided to take him to the after-hours vet – except of course I couldn’t call them. Luckily, Daniil was online and he rang them for me, so at 2am I loaded Seb into his cat cage and drove him out to Ngauranga. Seb didn’t meow once in the car, but I was crying enough for both of us.

The vet was grumpy with me, which seems a bit ridiculous, given that’s his actual job and heaven knows I paid enough. His computer wouldn’t start properly, and he wouldn’t even look at Seb until he’d filled in the form, so I stood in reception crying, Seb breathing way too fast under my hands, hoping he wasn’t going to die while the horrible man took his time with formalities. Finally we got into the examination room, where the vet put clothes pegs on Seb’s scruff to keep him calm, and we shaved off a bit of his fur so the vet could look at his chest wound. “He brought this on himself,” said the vet, “he clearly started this fight”. His bedside manner was somewhat lacking. It was 2.30am in the morning, I was clearly extremely upset and panicked, and I did NOT need to have my cat blamed for the fight. I tried to explain how much blood there was, but the vet was all “oh, it probably looked like a lot because it might have sprayed everywhere – an artery has been nicked, but it’s probably not very much at all”. Um, I cleaned up the clots of it, buddy, yeah, there was a lot of blood. Anyway, he gave Seb a shot of painkiller, and some antibiotics, and some pills for me to give to him for a week, and I paid $249. I was supposed to keep Seb inside for 24 hours but he slipped out while I was in the bathroom. I was awake til 6am worrying. Of course he’s fine today. I am never having kids.

Today I cleaned up the spare room cos Heather’s coming to stay, yay, and made righteous mac’n cheese and fuck yeah slaw and rhubarb pie for the LoveHawks. Kim gave me a recut of my Hubris necklace and wouldn’t let me pay her for it, proving once again that I win at life sometimes with the wonderful people I have met on the internet. We watched FoxFire which was DREADFUL, and kind of awesome at the same time. Jason claims he wrote it when he was 16. I’m so glad those crazy kids have moved to my neighbourhood. I love my weekend rituals.

This week is going to be crazy. Last week I saw a huge part of my recent everything played out in a slideshow, and now on Friday is the Fifth The Annual Wellingtonista Awards. Woah! You’re coming along, right?

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.

You guys like role-playing right? Okay, so let’s pretend for a minute that you’re Jonathan Davis of Korn fame. You’ve dealt with my urge to call you Jonathan Brandis, and you weren’t on Seaquest and you didn’t kill yourself. You wrote some tunes that some people stood around in a circle in a lounge in Johnsonville when the parents were away pretending to headbang to, and you wrote the soundtrack for a dreadful movie that Stuart Townshead wore leather pants in and looking very fucking hot and so much better than Tom Cruise in. So, your guitarist quits, and goes off to write a tell-all book, and become a born-again Christian. Do you use your down-time to help puppies and also to train your bassist to wear his bass up around his middle not his knees, or do you learn to play the bagpipes?

Yeah, exactly.

So I wrote a journal entry last night, as you have no doubt read. Since that time I had a nice sleep, I drank some coke, I watched some episodes of America’s Next Top Model (I am totally on Team Isis and love Faux-Kimora for her open mind. And there’s just been the Irene Cara ‘Fame’ song on TV and I’ve realised that pretty much the entire cast is Isis, not least because of their bad hair). Then I got my shit together and put on my old red dress and went into town and Cafe Istanbul for Megan‘s redrunkening.  Her friends were mostly couples but I won’t hold that against her, and also I was amused to see the girl I used to work for at Ausm/Debate and we had a quick bitch session. I couldn’t believe how busy Istanbul was, and we managed to try to leave at the same time as another big table of cute lesbians so it took forever to do the bill and pay.

Then we went to the Taste of Korea to do karaoke. As is my way, I grabbed a mike and opened things with ‘Wanted Dead or Alive’ as I always rock the fuck out of that on Rockband. Our Soju “cocktails” were neither strong nor actually cranberry flavoured (raspberry miranda is NOT cranberry) but people warmed up eventually and we all sang some more. I ended up getting another hour, and because I didn’t know the people I didn’t ask for any money, which possibly was not the best financial decision ever, but Megan got the first hour, so whatever. Anyways, so mostly I sang power ballads. I sang “Sweet Child’O Mine” because I now take any chance to exercise old demons. And then I sang ‘Careless Whisper’ but I am too used to the Gossip version, and also having the lyrics up on the screen was like a punch in the face. As these things go. But anyways, I fucking adore karaoke like so much. I could sing all night.

Except that we only had two hours and we finished on “We are the world” and most people went home, so I went up to Atomic to find Karen. I couldn’t spot her on the dancefloor initially, but I did spot Smoo and Blair out on the balconey so I hung out with them for ages,  before I went and had a sweaty dance (I was all in synthetic fibres, stinky) and found my friends. I alternated between dancing and hanging with the boys after that. Acgtually, I also managed to combined the two, making Blair slowdance with me to OMD’s “If You Leave” as a tribute to John Hughes.  Blair and Smoo had some guy with them who managed to believe that Karen and I were identical twins – after I sadi that I’d eaten all the pies. He did some clever detective work, asking me what my birthdate was, and then asking her, and strangely enough, she said the same date. Karen was in very fine form that night, saying that there had been quite a few young boys hitting on her that night, including the duck – “but then again, I am moving/have a pulse. Not that I think he’s that fussy.”. Blair and Smoo didn’t seem to accept “Not married!” as a justification for anything, and if you add that to the fact that Smoo has a cricket bat in his room for chasing intruders then you’ll understand why i left a note on his door when I got home telling him that I fricking adore him. And now it’s 4am, and kebabs have been eaten, so let’s finish this journal and maybe have sleeps, yes?

I have been as busy as a mongoose lately. A mongoose! And consequently, there is not a part of my body that doesn’t ache. Except for maybe my right ear. But that’s it.

After work on Tuesday, Karen and I went to jump into the ocean by the lagoon. Something went wrong with the way I was holding my head as I jumped off the plank though, and as I plunged into the water I felt as if I was receiving an enema through my nose. Not a pleasant feeling at all, I tell you. In fact, it made my throat and ears ache, and made me feel really sick. Add to that the teenage boys yelling “stingray!” at each other, and then the something solid that brushed my hand that made me swim and hide behind Kar, and when she saw a jellyfish I was well ready to get out. So I texted the divine Miss Fur and she came to pick me up and we went to the fish’n chip shop in Lyall Bay then drove out of the sun to go eat on the pier by my secret beach.

On Thursday Anji and I went to a pilates class at our gym for the first time. It seemed easy enough while we were doing it, although I got trembling holding my left leg in the air for so long, but afterwards, my abs were screaming. Oh yes, I apparently have abs. And for the rest of that night and all of Friday I felt like I was wearing a corset, I was so aware of them. I drove out to the airport to pick up Lani and three of her giggling friends who are staying with us, and then Lisa came to get me again for the Julia Deans (that’s her from Fur Patrol for those of you not in the know) solo accoustic gig at Happy. We got there shortly after 9pm, and were told it wasn’t on til 10 so we went to Karen’s house and made fun of her for a while before going back. Man oh man was I tired. Ryan Prebble didn’t start playing until after 11, and even though I’m sure he’s a lovely man and that some people were into his music, I started having fantasies about his guitar strings breaking as he was twanging them so hard and cutting him and him bleeding out and dying on stage so that Julia could start sooner. And then the taste in my mouth let me know that I’d actually fallen asleep for half a minute. But when Julia finally started singing, ti was all worthwhile. She did lots and lots of new stuff, no old Fur Patrol, and ‘Freak show’ and wow, her voice sure is stunning. The annoying part was that someone had brought along a baby, who cried. What the fuck? Yes, the baby was wearing ear muffs, and yes, apparently the mother was known to Julia who stopped and said “I know it’s not the volume cos that baby’s been to Shihad gigs!” but hi, you are not Gywneth, and this is not Live8 (and no one should ever aspire to be Gywneth anyways, because dude, could you pick a more bland milksoppy role model? Maybe Andie Mcdowell. But still.). I can put up with screaming kids at the beach because I suppose I do swim by the kids’ playground so I’m asking for it, but I don’t care if Happy was the first smokefree bar and it was fairly quiet, children are totally inappropriate in that context. Yes sir. But yes, apart from that, good times. I thought about how I can totally see the way I’m replacing you in the role that you used to have, and how even though I know what I’m doing is dumb it’s going to happen anyway, but meh, maybe I will go with this week’s counselling work whereby instead of being all “I should be doing this or that” or whatever, I can be all “I am making a choice to do blah blah blah”. I totally dig on how she gets my semantical issues.

Because Lani’s friends were sleeping in the lounge when I got home I couldn’t have my usual unwinding time with the television when I got home, so I couldn’t get to sleep for ages so Friday morning I was dreadfully dreadfully tired, but hopped up on excitement about the forthcoming weekend. After work I went to the ministry social club drinks where Lani introduced me to her friends – many of whom know my father, and I laughed at where a couple of the boys apparently thought my eyes were. I suppose the Mary-Kate and Ashley locket I was wearing that Martha made me buy at Craftwerk did help to draw the eye down to Mary-Kate and Ashley, which was of course totally the point. But it made me feel appreciated. Yes. I only stayed for one glass of wine though, because I ahd to go home to eagerly await the arrival of KateH and Shirley, hurrah! We had a couple of bottles of bubby while doing much gossip catch-up, and it was lovely. A couple of times I felt a bit weird, because I always used to be better friends with both of them than they were with each other, but of course now I live in Wellington and they don’t, so they have all these stories about people I don’t really know and tales to tell about nights together and I was just like “waah, left out”. But Shirley has just moved to Palmy now to finish her grad dip, so the balance will be restored again. Muahaha. We’d planned to go out to dinner but instead I fished bolognaise out of the freezer while they went for more wine. Then we went to Fia’s birthday party, and I didn’t check the address so we wandered around the top of Ghuznee St for ages trying to find a number that didn’t exist, being invited to student parties playing Metallica before I checked my phone and saw I had two digits wrong. So we got there in the end. Mostly I just talked to Karl and Amber, and laughed at the very very drunk very very young lady who tried to hit on both Shirley and KateH because she was missing her girlfriend. When we were in the taxi home I rang Lisa and decided to go to her house to panda-dance, so the girls went home to watch taped Daily Shows which Shirley didn’t like and is therefore off my weddding guest list.

It was a Saturday the next day, strangely enough, but much like last weekend when I didn’t get to sleep in because I went to the Petone fair with Shayne and Lani to see the wonderful Sue and Martha, I had to get up early to make the most of the day. This meant Shirley, KateH and I taking the bus in to the Cuba St Carnival, leaving like before 11am! I know right, haaaaaaaaaardcore. We were as awake as lemurs. Even though I’m sure it got much more crowded as the day went along, Cuba St was buzzing, and I was so fucking proud to be a Wellingtonian. I was also stoked that all of my “I am the boss of the weather and it will be sunny tomorrow!” blustering had paid off and it was still and baking. We wandered around for an hour or so, People’s Coffee from Plum in hand (I actually don’t really like it. Stink), and KateH bought a top, I found a hat that actually fit my huge head in Frutti so I bought that, and Shirley got a hat too. We also popped into Slowboat to see Ev, and now she probably thinks I am insane. Nevermind. Then it was just after 12 and we’d seen everything so I decided we should go home to get my car and go to my secret beach. So we did. KateH and Shirls were all “oooh eeek arrrgh too cold!” so they sat on the beach and read “Next (heh), while I had a bloody nice swim.

Lani and her friends were on salad duty, which cut down on my prep work for Country Club: Australia rather substantially. I went to the supermarket for beer (VB) and assorted snarlers and charcoal and ice and so on and so forth while Shirley and KateH did the dishes. We made dips, filled up a tub with ice and beer and then I turned our washing line into a pavilion in the style of Spiceworld (remember? In the grounds of the big old spooky house and they’re all wearing different coloured bathrobes, sucking chuppa chups and planning how to set up Debra and Clifford) with the help of a large couch cover, some pegs, some lime green netting curtains and assorted mattresses, pillows and lanterns. It looked bloody marvellous by the time I was done, even if it didn’t provide quite as much shade as I’d hoped. The absolutely fantastic Jimmy turned up and for a very long time it looked like he was going to be the only boy there, so he had to Make Fire by himself, although I stood around and fetched beer. Luckily Dave showed up to be manly with him. I had a period of total Hostess Anxiety because the bbq was going slowly so we thought we might have to cook some things indoors, and I didn’t know what, or when or how, and Lani’s friends were in the house so I thought if we took the food outside they might not get anything, and my friends Anne and Frances were in the kitchen preparing respectfully shrimp and falafel and I wanted to talk to everyone at once and make sure that everythign was going okay and the ghetto blaster on the stairs kept skipping on the mix CD Lisa brought (AC/DC and Powderfinger and Icehouse and Midnight Oil and the Vines and Jebidiah etc) aaaaaaaaargh freak out! So I made a choice to just sit down and have another beer. And things got much easier from then on in. I grilled some venison burgers indoors and the shrimp and falafel were fried, and people ate, and the boys tended the bbq most faithfully and more people came adn the sun went down, and ahhhh bliss. Lisa left for a while to go see the Phoenix Foundation play, and Lani and her friends took off, so it was just my posse hanging out. Instead of eating the pavlova I’d bought to be controversial, we toasted marshmallows and pears over the coals and the sugar cominded with the mango margaritas once the beer ran out made me incredibly fucking hypo. I jumped around and danced in the garden to CDs that reminded me of Volcanic and also the Pulp Fiction soundtrack that soundtracked my first-ever pash, and was just very very amped to go back into town to meet up with Shirls and KateH who’d left earlier and see the Battacuda Sound System, or whatever the correct spelling is.

We managed to squeeze six of us into Miss Lisa’s car so we could drop Frances home, and so Kar and Dyl and I were dropped off by Manners Mall to head up to Swan Lane to the big stage and crowds. I was still VERY VERY HYPER and yes, I am writing much like I was talking and jittering. It was fun. While we were waiting for the band to start the boy from the Great Blend showed up, so we chatted for a bit and it was nice to see that contrary to the stoogling results I’d turned up, he is actually just a secret ginga. Heh. Battacuda were SO MUCH FUN! I danced like a crazy person and so my calves are still aching today, because apparently dancing on concrete is not as soft and accomodating as you might think it could be. If you were stupid. I was all very hyped up so we went to Havana after, and danced some more. KateH and Shirley went home but Dyl was all let’s stay out! so I did, and then after one more drink both him and Kar were like “tired now, let’s go” and I was like you guys are DICKS. But there was a taxi right outside the door, and so that was handy. I told Karen to remember it was a black’n gold one, and texted her when I got home fine. I wasn’t that drunk, but I’m trying to form good habits in case of insane drunkenness at a later date. Ahh taking care of myself, nice work.

When I woke up on Sunday I felt like I’d been hit by a truck, what with the calves, and the pimple just inside my nose, and the cut on my foot and the scratches from Sebby who was a little unnerved by the masses of people at the BBQ – so much so that he almost didn’t want to eat steak – but he dragged it away to eat in private and emerged much calmer – and all, but I still managed to get showered and dressed and to take the girls to the Maranui Surf Cafe for breakfast. We had to wait for aaaaaaaaaaaaages to get a table and then for our food but it was well worth it because dude, Wellington is so fucking rad. I dropped KateH in town after that and said sad goodbyes to Shirley who had to return to Palmy for her first day of school today. I spent the afternoon lying in the pavillion reading Prep (so good! although I expected more sex and panties from a book set in a boarding school) and then bonding with my couch and HDD once the wind got too strong. I did a mountain of dishes and threw away salads and prawn heads, but cleanup wasn’t too bad thanks to the wonders of disposable plates. I discovered that Smoo wasn’t actually dead in a gutter but had instead gone to Hammy with Bart for the weekend. When they got back they came over to bbq up the leftovers. But it turns out that Jimmy is teh BBQ King and they can’t even touch him. Much like Hammer. While Bart trying to catch flaming pieces of paper with his bare hands was somewhat entertaining, we resorted to cooking on the stove instead. Smoo ate about a thousand chops, so KateH and I were looking forward to seeing Bart polish off a whole pavlova, but that didn’t happen, sadly. So there is still some passionfruit pav with Kiwiberries (so weird!) in our fridge if you are hungry. Okay? Okay.

Today I got up early to take KateH to the airport, but she fetched me coffee while I was in the shower so I love her for that. And that’s about all I have to say for now, I think.

This week I’m going to try and update my journal every day. I don’t know how interesting this will make the entries, but we’ll see. Today being Monday, I of course talk about the drinking that I did over the weekend first.

On Friday, Miss Fur came and joined me and a workmate and an ex workmate for a couple of quiet drinks at the Poon, and that’s not even a euphemism. They really were quiet drinks, and we left by 8pmish to go back to her house to watch my friend Nigel & co win the 48 Hour Film Festival. Haha, now I sound like Russell with the name-dropping to show how down with the kids I am, except that I did actually go to Uni with Nige. You might remember my story of how my 18th birthday party was ruined by him and Brad and Trudie telling me I was dumb for drinking and smoking? Good times. The best part about them winning was that their movie was actually the best. I laughed myself stupid. And then we ummmm watched something else? Listened to records? I’m having a total mind blank.

On Saturday bright and earlyish, I picked up Anji and Karen and we headed up to Ngaio to decorate the house for Daddy’s party. Of course, before we could start decorating, we had to find the house first. My parents have A LOT of crap. We discussed ways in which we could thin it out, perhaps by taking one object every time we go visit and throwing it away. I need their house to become minimalist so that I can raise my brood of four children in it. But eventually we had a Quiet Meadow room as well as a lounge draped ridiculously in mosquito netting and streamers, with paper picket fences taped to the windows and other goodness around. We went home for a quick nap, and then I got all dressed up like a milk maid and returned. Daddy’s friends are weird. They didn’t want our horny monkeys, pink elephants, moscow mules, brown cows and fluffy ducks. They were all about the moderate drinking of wine. Fluffy ducks are crazy-tasting, by the way. Crazy but tasty. I continued to make drinks anyway. And serve our animal-themed food. And laugh when my Mummy kept turning up the stereo and someone kept turning it down. But eventually we had a boogie anyway. Neil’s friends sat on the floor and watched. There were two members of parliament present. Unsurprisingly, the Labour one was nice. The National MP, meanwhile, said to Anji that he didn’t believe OOS was real. Fucking awesome. I can’t wait til everyone in National takes their own advice and moves to Australia. We had some quality family time at the end of the party, and Mum danced like Axl Rose. It was pretty awesome. But I had too much sugar and couldn’t get to sleep for a long time, and when I finally did, right before 5am, I got woken up pretty much straight away by Smoo who didn’t have his key, and then when I went back to sleep after that Sebastian woke me up. Needless to say, I slept in past 2pm on Sunday.

Did I actually do anything else on Sunday? I don’t think I did. Apart from go to see City of God at the private screening, and make a string of hilarious puns about how much phelgm I have (“If I was a painter, I’d be a phelgmish impressionist. If I was a cricketer, I’d be Stephen Phelgming…”). I don’t understand how I’m not already married when I’m this funny and witty. Annnnnnnnnnnd then we got home at 12am from that, and I changed my sheets, and put in some ear drops and finished my Q and all of a sudden it was 2am. How did that happen? Also, I went to listen to The Wall which you will of course remember that Lisa Fur gave me on vinyl, but it appears that Real Groovy fucked up and gave me two sides 3 and 4 instead of a 1 & 2. No one out there wants to trade do they?

TOnight I was supposed to go to Stitch & Bitch that Martha organised, but I found more appealing the thought of coming home to do some amatuer yoga type stretching to follow up on my half-assed effort at the gym today (it was busy! And the first time I’d been in ten days cos of the coughing out my lungs! Give me a break!) and put on my new pale pink with skull & cross bones on pyjamas and watch TV instead. And so that is what I have done. And now I might return to this desperate trash. Now that Jon Safran has finished, I have been somewhat sucked in to Grey’s. Of course, I’m just doing it to bond with Jessie. Naturally.

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.

On Friday, I made hte long drive up to Paraparaumu to see Oma. Pretty much as soon as I got there she said “You look fatter than when I last saw you! Have you put on weight?” Thanks Oma. And she kept reiterating it all through lunch, while trying to get me to have seconds. Hmmm. But it was still kinda cool. We talked about opera and April Fools and other stuff, as you do. After an hour and a half, I figured that was enough so I went home.

In the evening i made blackbean eggplant stirfry and there were lots of txts and phonecalls to coordinate our activities. Eventually Anji and I headed over to Ayna’s to listen to play records and chill before going out (just to be different). Charlotte and Alex came over, and so that was excellent because they’re both absolutely lovely. Charlotte used to flat with Bopa in Welly and she said that Bopa is mellow and tidy, which is very good news. And Alex is just a total sweetheart. Fatty showed p too, and him Anji and I headed down to Sub9 for DJ Zinc. The others were gonna follow us later.

Half a green alligator later, it was all excellent. When we started dancing, the dancefloor was empty, so it was really interesting to see what Sub9′s actual layout was like (“Oooh, so that’s where that hot chick snogged me before you scared her off at New Years, fatty!). and At first it was more cafe-ish music, and I wanted more “baaaaaaaaaaaaummmmmmmmmmmmmmmm” farting sorta bass, but it got there. I like dancing! Dancing number one excellent fun. I wish I could dance like the people who move their feet around lots and lots and lots though. I like watching people in Wellington dance. Si being the dear sweet boy that he is kept coming up to me to run his fingers up my neck and along my shoulders and up and down my back to make me giggle in pleasure. Tehehe, I like people touching me like that in those circumstances. Strangely enough though, he ran away when I told him that he was making my nipples errect. Dance dance dance. There was a pretty green laser shooting at the floor near me opening up portals when it wasn’t being a cloverleaf. However, at one stage, I had a freakout, cos the people were all too close and it was hot and well, you know how claustraphobic I get when people are bumping me so Anji and I went outside for a bit to chill.

When we went back in, we decided to dance in the bit between the door and the main dancefloor, which was completely empty so there was lots and lots and lots of room to go crazy in, so we did. It was funnn. I like dancing like a mad dancing thing. So we danced and danced and danced and danced. And danced. Etc. Etc. Eventually I went to the bathroom and it felt so weird to be walking that I was almost convinced that my feet were floating. My stomach started to complain after a second red bull and my temple hurt and both Anji and I were weary so we agreed that we’d had an excellent night and that we should end it on an up note, and so we left. We gave the taxi driver directions in stereo and he laughed at us. Whilst walking up the hill, I realised that it was raining adn that the rain felt absolutely lovely on my skin, little kisses from angels all over me so I stood in it for a very long time, while Anji laughed at me from the inside. In the lounge, Xmas lights were turned on and m2, and she rolled a wooden massager all over me and I was very very blissful. Then she gave me a valium and so I took a shower and had lovely lovely sleep.

Today I had coffee with Hulita at Olive which was cool, cos their cappachinos are the best in the entire country, and it was of course wonderful to see her again. Then I went home and went back to bed, because i was more than a little tired from the previous night. In the evening me and Mum&Neil went over to the Bentons’ for dinner. KateB and I giggled together lots, as we do, and our new cussword is “Bunny Rabbits” in any form or variation. We also had a big big arguement about exploitation with her dad which is too hard to explain here, but basically involves a British movie star currently featuring in a movie that’s fairly significant movie to NZ, and a boy we went to high school with. And we played Balderdash, good wholesoem fun, and I won. ANd now I am super tired so I will go read more ‘Survivor and go to bed, probably.

So, I’ve discovered the best nightclub in town, bar none. There’s no dress code. There are no wankers. There’s no one bumping into you or looking at you funny. The music is a perfect blend of hiphop, electronica and other random stuff thrown in just to make it fun. It’s convienently located in town and you can dance in your bare feet because it’s carpeted. There’s plenty of access to free water,and there’s couches for resting on, and even showers and beds too if you need. No one looks twice at you if you run your hands all over yourself because your pill makes it feel extra nice. It’s called My Lounge. But most of you probably wouldn’t get in. Sorry.

Friday morning me and Jinan met our mentor and interviewed her and she must have been very effective because much later that evening when I found myself in a bullshit conversation with someone I was able to completely repeat everything that she had told me and believe in what I was saying too, so that was amusing. But I’m getting ahead of myself. What else did I do during the day? Hmmm. I napped, because 8am classes are no fun.

Friday night I got another call from Brad-My-Fiance; he was drunk again and wanted to tell me again that he loved and missed me and was coming up to Auckland soon. I told him that i wasn’t sure if I could still marry him because I was in a man hating mood, but then again, I am a sucker for anyone who tells me that they worship me. I drove to KateM’s house, and we took a taxi together to Justin’s flatwarming. Of course, we got dropped off too early so we wandered the streets of Sandringham for ages because there was some kinda conspiracy where none of the houses had letter boxes with numbers on them,but eventually we got there.

I ran out of beer waaay too early and found myself trying to make conversations with people I didn’t know – well, alternating between doing that and standing in a corner by myself. There were actually a lot of really nice people there but I dunno – I felt a little weary of the whole polite chitchat thing so eventually I just started insultingpeople and starting conversation that way. I really liked the people who took it in the spirit that it was intended and started psychoanalyzing me on that basis. The other party highlight for me was dancing to Fur Patrol with KateM and thinking about boys who like the song Loaded (where are you???). At the end of the night there was a lot of standing around on the driveway waiting for taxis that never came and so I went to town with Nick and Megan who I met at Octoberfest and we played pool, and that was cool. I suck really badly at it though, and also, some fucking moron at the table next to us asked me if I’d come from a 5th form party, so I was like, “yeah thanks for that”.

Saturday morning/noonish, I was sitting sheeted at the dining room table reading the paper when Ben decided to try and convince me that I should go and have drinks with him down at his work. I was like “aaaargh”. I’ve decided that it’s worth the $3000+ dollars that I’m paying for my ‘education’ just so that I can have the yearlong excuse of “having to study” every time I need it. He told me that I need to go out more often and meet more people and so I was like “I went to a party last night! I’m going to another one tonight! What more can you ask of me?” He said I needed to meet a nice boy or girl, and so I told him that I was engaged to a guy in Wellington. When Ben asked why I wasn’t with that guy then I said that he was moving in in two weeks time. He was suprised but I’m worried that he completely believed me. Sucker.

Later that evening I slathered on silver eyeshadow cos I intended to sparkle and dance, and went off walking down K’Road to KatieH’s house. I had to go via the bottleo and then after that, there were no taxis on my side of the road and I was almost at Great North Road before I had the clever idea of crossing to the other side. Duh. Anyways. So once again there was lots of talking to people I didn’t know, and being bailed up in corners by people who claimed that I’d met them previously the week before and “you were really trashed then”. Ahuh probably, but that doesn’t mean that you can invade my personal space, freak. I took my leftovers from Welly that I’d brought back in my bra, because I was curious to see what it’d be like in a non-danceparty environment. Suffice to say that I spent a lot of time stroking the skin on my hands because it felt really nice. When I told Justin he started stroking my face and so I was like “aaaaaargh”. Note to the world: I have a very erogenous face. Don’t touch it unless you mean to start something. Pretty much everyone had left at that stage so I called a cab and went home via Kingsland to drop off Tasha (see, I have no problems in walking home by myself from wherever, but it’s completly not okay for anyone else to do it!) And then at home I danced by myself in the lounge for ages and ages, it was excellent. Then I had a cold shower and wanted to listen to Beth Orton like I always do whenever I’m coming down, except that I don’t have my Beth Orton cd right now (grrr!) but Jeff Buckley was a fine substitute.

Today I was completley and utterly drained so I stayed in bed til about 5. I didn’t really have anything to do, so why not? Tomorrow I will finally have to go and retrieve my car from Mt. Eden and also get tampons since I’ve started on the bleed again (yay regularity!). And I might also do some actual study instead of just saying that I have to, although that could be stretching things a little. Sleep now! Hopefully Ben and his maurauding friends won’t be too loud if they come back again from going out after the Chemical Brothers concert.

Wednesday, February 27th

You know, I don’t genuinely believe that these crackers were actually cooked in a tandoor oven eh. Oh, it’s dark and I’m drunk and a million miles away from my moniter perched on the end of my mattress and my keyboard is sitting precariously in my lap, bear with me okay?

But not the kind of bear that gets sulfuric acid poured on him by chinese students to test their intelligence though, cos that fuckingsucks. Of course bears are intelligent! What kind of moron are you?

In Persuasive Communication today we compared speeches by Martin Luther King Jr and Osama Bin Laden. I think I am going to like that class. Hopefully I don’t sound like too much of a Grand Dick.

Mad at Ben for wakingme up at 4.30am askin gof my car keys. My first impulse was that it was an emergency so I said yes but then I realised that he would have just been going to buy drugs so I am VERY MAD. Dammit I wish people wouldn’t take advantage of me while I’min a subconcious state. That includes trying to talk to me about serious things while I’m stoned so of course I’m just going to smile and nod.

Today I had lunch with Jody at Mezze so that was cool and since we haven’t rteally seen each other in months we had to catch each other up on all our mini scandals (mine were of course the microbiologist fingering me on the couch in the foyer at Dee’s weddding until the staff member told us off and shagging Clay’s boat wearing friend. Hers were none of your business). Then I had class, and then I nearly passed out in the book shop from heat and dehydration. One of my texts is $100 so I didn’t buy it. I only bought one that was $80 second hand. Fucking hell!

Oooh when I laid back just now, every vertabrae made an excellent cracking sound, i enjoyed it immensely. When I rang Brad at his parents’ today cos he’s on holiday, he said he was goingto do standup tonight, so I went to that. I was supposed to go with Clay only he was too drunk, so I was justsitting with Nigel and some random other guy we didn’t know who was weird. Some of the comedians were using jokes they were using two years ago when I was doubledating. Then when we got out, Jody and Andy were waiting for us so we had drinks and hilarity and then went to Retro Night at the Grand Circle. I love dancing with those people, they’re so much fun and they take the piss and yeah, it’s just lots and lots of fun. I “danced up on” Nigel, to get all Brittany on you, and he freaked out, whcih amused me. But eventually I was just about to pass out from the heat again, so I figured I should probably go, and so now hereI am and so now I will go.

Sleeping in until sometime after three is excellent, especially when you get up and aren’t at all sick, unlike your sister and crazy Linda who came home an hour after you so drunk that they were incapable of making tea and toast and you had to do it for them. Heh.

Karen came around for dinner tonight so we had quality family time, watching a very funny Halloween Simpsons episode. And then I txted Ayna to find out what time i should go around and she told me that Dan and Mike and Adam were already there, so I could go any time. So I got Neil to drop me off – I really should have made him come in to meet Brad, seeing as how we’re engaged and all now. Anyways. So we hung out and played records and stuff, as you do at Ayna’s. Adam was really good at beat matching. I’m afraid to even look at her turntables for fear of breaking them. I had a big discussion about Briteny Spears vs The Spice Girls with Brad and Mike, but I can’t remember what the winning verdict was. Eventually the boys took off, Brad decided to stay home and Bobby showed up and drove me and Ayna down to the Foundary.

Yay for seeing Katy Troop again! Everyone at the Foundary was gathered around their dining room table (although they don’t have a dining room as such, just a massively huge lounge that’s big enough to hold dance parties in) doing what they called “Russian Cocaine”, so I did that too. Russian Cocaine, apparently, is slices of lemon with sugar and instant coffee grinds on top, which you put in your mouth and wash down with shots of vodka. It’s a really weird combination eh, and it kinda knocks you back really quick for some strange reason. And I had conversations about movies with people at film school and we tested someone who said that they wanted to work in Continuity by making him close his eyes while we switched necklaces and stuff to see if he’d figure it out – and he always did. So I’m sure he’s got a bright future ahead of him.

Eventully me and Ayna and Kartini and Bobby went to Phoenix for some hip hop thingie – I can’t remember exactly what it was called but it was something to do with Wahine, since it was all Women stuff. It’s so strange going to dance parties at Phoenix, since it used to be the Repatory Theatre and I used to do drama lessons there. Now the Green Room is a very nice bar with boothes and big windows, and the main theatre bit seems so much smaller. I like dancing to hip hop and taking half pills. I’ve also decided that i wanna become an MC when I grow up because the girl that was doing it was just so fucking cool and excellent.

Katy and Kartini both left, so Ayna and Daniel talked me into going to Sandwichs at Sub9 with them (ha, that whole sentence sounds just a little kinky, doesn’t it? Make your thighs like butter, easy to spread, and we can make sandwichs. You can be the bun and I’ll be the burger girl, we can make sandwichs. Etc). It was $35 to get in, and that was on top of the $18 for the hip hop, but I figured, why the fuck not. After all, this is my last chance weekend at Hedonism before I go back to tech and actually knuckle under and do lots of work. I am very super glad that I let myself be talked into it. The music was super cool and fun, and for house, it was really realyl diverse and not all gimpy. SO I danced and danced and danced until my feet blistered, adn then I danced some more. I lost Ayna and Dan so I went upstairs to 9bar to chill out for a while, then went and danced some more. Eventually though, i found myself wanting to yell “STOP TOUCHING ME” at everyone who pushed past, and the whole crowd thing was starting to really really freak me out, so I went and jumped in a cab and went home. I’m not even going to start to think about how much money I’ve spent in Wellington.