Hubris.co.nz

On Saturday morning, after a bunch of stupid spam texts, and a stupider “don’t spam me!” text that I got before the others, I went flathunting with Anji. We looked at three properties and debated in the Aro Cafe for a while about the merits of the one in Mt Vic vs. the one in Hataitai. The Mount Vic one, while being full of character and featuring a built in liquor cabinet had a tiny skoddy bedroom, while the Hataitai one was HUGE, and so we took that one. Hurray for three bedrooms and a lounge AND a dining room. It will be very good for entertaining in.

Speaking of entertaining, after I spent the rest of the day cooking and cleaning, I went and picked up a vanload of she-males on Marion St, and took them back to my house for a “dinner party”. According to all reports, a good time was had. I didn’t even go psycho! That’s always good. I did try to get everyone to stay with me forever and ever, but I’d forgotten to make that wish with a vengence demon within earshot, so they took off sometime after 1am. I thought five courses (if you include canapes and cheese) would have been enough to render everyone unable to walk. Maybe next time I will have to cut off their legs.

Yesterday Karen and I watched Team America (fuck yeah!) and I ignored all the mess. I can’t de-stretch the dining room table by myself, so why should I clean the bottles and glasses off it? But I do intend to clean up tonight. And write my reviews that I promised to get to the lady by tomorrow. And change my sheets. And all that kind of stuff. Yeah.

Thank god it’s only 20 sleeps or less until I’m on holiday. Of course before then I have to move two households, do a buttload of work and prepare a workplan for the time that I’m off (on leave without pay, I did mention that, right? Bah!). In the meantime, I will continue on my quest to find the perfect Mee Goreng at this end of the city. It’s not at Cintra, although Cintra’s is better (and much much cheaper) than Satay Kampong’s. Istana Malaysia is currently leading the pack, except that it’s not open on Mondays and Tuesdays and they say when I walk in the door “Mee Goreng Chicken, medium hot, no egg”. Knowing how I want my coffee is fine, but knowing how I want my noodles is just embarrassing.

Okay, so it’ll be eight people for dinner tomorrow night (and I hope that you, Mr Noizy, will be losing sleep over your lack of RSVP! I know you’ve been reading, I know you’re not in New York.). Now I’m sure that you’re already bringing wine, because you’re polite young people, but Jessie said that my last post on the subject was a little confusing, so let me spell it out – in addition to the wine which I have no doubt that you are bringing, it would be great if you could bring a piece of cheese. I think Jessie mentioned that she likes blue cheese, (unless she was trying to wind me up), so perhaps a brie and a something else could be dividied up between the two remaining of you? Tonight there will be much cleaning and cooking and planning of social introductions. As I just said in an email, sometimes I think I am a Stepford Wife.

In other things that aren’t my dinner party, on Wednesday I went to see In Good Company and consequently I am in love with Topher Grace all over again like the second season of that show. It was a really funny really nice movie, although Scarlett Johansson didn’t wear enough low cut tops. Um, not that I’m shallow or anything. But you should check it out.

Last night Anji and I went to look at a flat in Mt Vic. It was art deco with wooden floors. Luckily the landlady had a phobia of cats, because it was $375. In half an hour I’m going to go and look at a workman’s cottage in Mt Cook. It is sunny today so I can assess how damp and dark it will be.

The cats are stressing me out with their differing needs. I have finished reading Feel although I never wanted it to end. I must make a dinner party playlist of music. Today’s big drama at work was all about the total lack of toilet paper in our building and how it took the other building two hours to get us some. Shocking. There’s toilet paper now, however, so I might end this here.

Oh actually, just before I go – Karen and I had dinner at Coco last night, and when I ordered a glass of shiraz THE GIRL ASKED ME FOR I.D. Oh my fucking god. I will accept that in supermarkets and liquor stores, but in a cafe????

This morning on the bus I overheard the following
“I forgot I had a boyfriend when AJ asked me out. I said yes, and then he noticed I had a hickey on my neck, so he asked me if I had a boyfriend and then I remembered that I did. Sorry Steve!”

While I’ve had a handful of sex-related injuries, I’ve never had a hickey. Am I missing out?

So, this weekend. Friday was obviously the Straitjacket Fits, and while I’m no longer drunk (partly on NINE DOLLAR BEER. Duval – who knew? Not me, until I counted my change forlornly), that doesn’t mean I can be any more coherant about it. SO FUCKING AMAZING. Oh yeah! Then on Saturday I hmmm. What did I do? Something with Karen. What was it? Lunch perhaps? Oh I know, I went and checked out a flat and then we ate fries at Malo (so good!) and she came over to watch American Psycho and then I returned some videos. No I didn’t, I went supermarket shopping instead and bought half a baker’s dozen bottles of wine. While I’m sure that everyone coming to my Swanky Dinner Party on Saturday is far too well brought up to ever consider turning up to a dinner party empty handed (although I would like to ask you to bring a cheese, or if you hate cheese some grapes or some crackers so that we can have a cheese board too), it never hurts to have spare supplies so that I don’t drink my way through my parents’ supply. I have already moved the Aria to a place where I can’t see it.

Speaking of Swanky Dinner Parties (because I’m nothing if I’m not planning an event), I think that I have the gender balance almost balanced out(*), because while JJ pulled out in favour of going to Macdonald’s, Anji pulled out in favour of a sad goodbye. Of course, Mr Noizy is still to RSVP, and I don’t know about Brad, or if Anne even received her invitation, so it’s still all very up in the air. But I do have the menu planned out, so woe betide you if you have failed to notify me about any allergies or food you simply can’t stand to eat (for me it’s eggs in egg form). If worst comes to the worst, I can sit by myself and eat pity party patties and drink the good wine. I am a nervous entertainer, which is kind of lame on my behalf.

Speaking of pattys, today I was described as being “the meat in the sandwich”. It wasn’t as erotic as you might think it could be. But that’s okay, because I am going to go home and Brad is going to come over and we’re going to watch The OC for like, ever.

Okay, and in order to stimulate conversation, I’d like you to confess something to me. I’ll start things off by admitting that amongst the tracks from the server at work that are marked by four or more stars due to the amount of times that they are played is Evanescence. Please don’t hate me, because I am beautiful. Haha, I love commas.

OH! And in free stuff news:, I have a spare ticket (cos I got 4, thanks lady!) to In Good Company on Wednesday at 6.30pm at Reading. Anyone want it? It’s got Topher in it. Mmmm topher. And Scarlett. Mmmm boobies.