Hubris.co.nz

In honour of everyone at my work now knowing about my journal (dammit, although given that I’m number one on Google I always sort of expected this), here’s what I told the journalist via email.

Hi Danielle,

Please find below answers to your questions – I’m sure I will talk at
length, but if I haven’t explained myself very well at any stage,
please let me know.

There may be a lot of questions but please note, that most are just to help me set you up in my mind and provide background. I would also need to know your full name, age, occupation and where you live. That’s to provide background to the reader, and helps to introduce you into the article.

My full name is Joanna Tiare McLeod, and online I am known as Jo,
Joanna and Jo Hubris (there was another girl for a long time who moved
in the same circles called Joanna, and so we were differentiated from
each other by our domain names – she was Jo Starla. She doesn’t exist
any more though). I am 26 years old, I work doing communications for a
government agency (I work for * which is part of the ministry of
*, but I’d rather not specify if that’s okay – it keeps
things a little simpler with our incredibly long Code of Conduct), and
I’ve had an online journal for the past eight and a bit years.

SO what I want to ask is first, WHY the online journal?

An online journal to me is the virtual equivalent of a piece of paper and a pen – it’s about writing about yourself and being inward-looking. Blogs meanwhile are more outward-looking – too often they come across like “here’s a link and it’s funny” and that’s about the extent of their content. I’m not interested in doing that. I write because I would like to think that I am pretty good at stringing words together, and because I like to tell stories. A blog is usually about one particular subject, like politics or food or architecture (or at
least the good ones are), wheras online journals are a record of one person’s existence.

When I started my website in 1997, the word ‘blog’ didn’t exist. Back then as well as walking five miles to school barefoot in the snow, most web pages were done either in special programmes or hand-coded in HTML, and then uploaded onto the internet. There was none of this fill in a box and click tomfoolery that there is now, so people who had webpages had to be more dedicated and in to what they were doing than people who use things like blogger and myspace these days. I think in a way that meant content was a lot better. As a whole, people put more thought into it, and because it was so much more effort to get things
online, people were more likely to stick with it. This will sound incredibly stuck up, and please be aware that I am mocking myself here, but when blogging came along, and the media jumped all over it, it was kind of like I’d been doing all these great complex oil paintings and then all of a sudden people were like “woah, check out these awesome paint-by-numbers kits that people are doing!”.

I know a couple of people from New Zealand like Robyn from secret-passage.com and Annette (who’s now at nutandbee.com) and we were all doing the online journal and heavy content thing back in 1998 when there was like no one else in NZ doing it, and so we like to call ourselves the tangata whenua of the interweb. I can’t help but feel like I should get special recognition for doing it for so long. Man I got shitty when Bizgirl won a netguide award when SHE’S NOT EVEN REAL. Well, not that shitty, because James Guthrie is a friend of mine, but still…

What do you get out of it?

There used to be a lot of people who would write disclaimers on their pages things like “I keep this journal for me, and me only so if you don’t like it you can go away”, but that always struck me as being kind of silly, because if you didn’t want someone to read what you were writing, why would you put it out in the public forum? For me, I love having the audience. I think it pushes me to try to write better, to try and include more interesting stories and therefore even a little bit to try and live a more interesting life so that I have more
interesting things to write about. Knowing that I have an expecting
public (haha, oh, that sounds so wanky) gives me good motivation to
make sure that I continue to update my site, rather than just let it
slide like so many other projects I start without finishing. Hubris
serves as a useful place to let out my feelings when I am angry about
things, a platform for my opinions when I want other people to hear me
and also a place to build a sense of community in a way, so that if
there are ever people who find themselves going through things that I
have been through who come across the site might not feel so alone.
Which sounds very altruistic, but there’s something very cathartic
about writing about crappy stuff, even if it’s just in semi-coded
vague references.

It also means I can keep a record of more mundane things like books
I’ve read, movies I’ve seen, places I’ve eaten and when I get my periods. Looking back over journal entries is an awesome way to track moods and mental health, and also to see how far I’ve come in many ways.

Do you look at it as a place to express your thoughts, political views, worldwide views, talk about your life, your day or to vent?

All of the above. Hubris is full of pretty vapid empty crap sometimes,
like a big pile of whatever my catchphrase of the day is (“The Gilmore Girls are so hot right now”), and fairly mundane descriptions
of my day, while my locked down footnotes are where I vent. I have
political views that I think come through in my writing – I don’t
think anyone could read more than one entry and think that I was
right-wing, but I really don’t want to be seen a “political blogger”
because I’m just not that interested in the details. You’re much more
likely to find fairly broad statements about living as a decent human
being from me, or stuff like “so Don Brash has had sex with at least
three women? Really? Ewww”.

And I will bitch and moan about the state of the media or the state of
the world, but usually only about things related to me.

What made you start?

When I used to write a paper journal, I used to get a little frustrated thinking that I’d be the only person who ever read it. I wrote sometimes with an audience in mind, and would occasionally read (fairly censored) parts of it out loud to my friends.

I first came across online journals in 1998, when I was really into
Tori Amos, so I used to go to a lot of her fan sites, which were
mostly run by angsty American teenage girls who used to keep online
journals that were written in tiny little 8 point verdana font, and I
just really related to what they were doing. They had an outpost for
their thoughts and rantings, and an audience, and through their
guestbooks, they built a sense of community. I didn’t think I was as
angsty, or as obsessed with Tori Amos, and I didn’t like their sort of
competitive nature – it seemed like in order to be cool you had to be
on six different kinds of medication, cut yourself and have a
borderline eating disorder or a history of sexual abuse, but I could
relate to many of the things that others would write about – a sense
of alienation from your peers, and a yearning to be a writer, or just
to stand out, and so I started keeping an online journal too.

What made you carry on?

I enjoy doing it, and I love being able to look back on things. I’m
gutted that there are chunks of my life that are not as well
documented (like having the ihug hacker delete July-Nov ’98) or when I
was just too depressed to be able to write at all, but I am grateful
that there is this record, because basically all I really want to do
with my life is become famous enough that I can get an autobiography
published. Hehe. There’s a reason I had to use Hubris as a name…

But on a slightly less hubristic note, I’m full of regret that I never
got to hear enough stories about my grandparents’ lives. They left
behind some stories written down, but they’re handwritten, and on my
mother’s side they’re in Dutch, so I can’t really read them. I want to
make sure that there is some record of my life for my grandkids that
they can easily access, if they want it. I really admire what Heather
from dooce.com is doing for her daughter in that way, although I find
it kind of weird that I know more about what it’s like for this
complete stranger I’ve never even emailed to be raising a daughter
than my own mother’s experiences. That’s something I should work on.

Now that you are into it, do you think you will still be doing it a year from now? Two years?

Having been doing it nonstop for the past eight years, I have no doubt
that I’ll always be keeping an online journal of some sort.

Did you write a diary as a child/teenager/adult?

Yep. It was all descriptions of “she said ‘blah blah blah’ at school,
and pinings for the first boy I pashed. Hubris is pretty much no
different.

Is is something you gave a lot of thought to before starting or a spur of the moment thing?

I had wanted to start keeping an online journal for a while, but I
didn’t really give much thought to what I actually wanted to write in
it until I got going. Content has therefore evolved over time.

What do you write about?

I write about my day, parties I’ve had, injokes that are hilarious to
me and maybe two other readers, tasty food I’ve written, hatred of
people who talk at gigs, reviews of stuff, and I also post writing
that I’ve done for publication elsewhere.

Do you know who reads it? Do you have some sort of mechanism to find out who reads it?

I’m lucky with Hubris in that it’s a customised system my friend built
for me, so I can track everyone’s IP address, and also people can have
their own logins to the page which means every time they visit and
they’re logged in, it keeps a record. People can get themselves to
Level One, which is what some entries are locked to, but I have to
chose to bump them up to Level Two which is what my footnotes page is,
and any kind of rant about things that make me unhappy which shouldn’t
be talked about in public (like work issues), or things that I am
currently squeeing over – like crushes on people. I can actually put
in more levels too, so I can choose what information what people see.
Mostly level two membership just goes to people who I know really well
(online or in real life) or people who actively contribute to the
Hubris community – and by that I mean leave me comments, because of
course as an attention seeker, it’s all about the feedback.

Do you care? How careful about personal info on it are you? Do you include details about other people in your life?

Hubris is the number one result on google for a search on Joanna
Mcleod, so I write on the basis that anything I write can be read by
anyone – although as I mentioned above, I do have some security
measures but I’m aware if someone was dedicated enough they could hack
me. In the olden days before google, I used to use people’s full names
when I wrote mean things about them, and use my friends’ full names
and so forth, but I am much more aware of self-googling now so I don’t
do that so much. My restraint also includes never mentioning who I
work for (I don’t want to get dooced!) and trying not to give away too
much information about other people’s crap. One of my friends last
year made me remove every occurence of her name on the site because
she found her parents searching for her and therefore didn’t want her
name associated with drinking and drugs. Many years ago the first
time I went to bed with a certain boy in the morning he was like “this
isn’t going in your journal, is it?” – well that particular incident
didn’t go in, but I’ve said some very non complimentary things about
him since then, and him being a little drama queen, he’s done the
whole “lawyers, defamation, blah blah” speil. But funnily enough the
only legal letter I’ve had in regards to my website was regarding my
improper use of the word Sellotape (r) without using the registered
trademark symbol. Laaaaame.

Have other people, complete strangers (Like me!) been in touch?

Yes, many many many. In 1999, my friend and I used to have a thing
called The Breast Club, where we made scans of our chests in our bras,
and put them online and encouraged random people to send in theirs,
and so I met lots of people through that. Another time someone wrote
to me and said that since they read my site every day and it made them
happy they really wanted to send me a 21st birthday present.

Have you made new friends from it?

More than I can count – oh I’m so popular. Heh. But no, internet
friends are easy to make – you swap “i like your site” emails – well,
in the olden days you did, nowadays you comment instead, usually, and
that can progress to instant messaging, and then maybe you meet in
real life, and it’s all hunky dory.

Sometimes I meet (online and/or in real life) people through them
coming to my site – getting links from publicaddress.net brings them
in – and sometimes I meet them through contacting them on their sites,
or on forums, and then they come to my site to find out more about me.
It’s a way of demonstrating common interests or feelings, I suppose,
like joining a book club or a sports team might be in the real world.

Do you pay particular attention to what you write should someone you do care about it read it? Like your mum?

I do find myself censoring myself more than I’d like to sometimes
knowing that my friends read the site – sometimes I’d just like to
have a bit of a vent about a particular person without having
repercussions about it, but there are ways and means to get around
that, with different levels, or secret journals that others don’t know
about that.

I asked my parents not to read my site, although my dad did but I
think he was more embarrased about it than I was. I don’t have a lot
of boundaries anyway, so I’d like to think that the person I am online
is the person I am if you talk to me in real life – I don’t have that
much to hide.

Do you expect your family/friends to read it?

I’d actually kind of rather than my family didn’t read it, because
who’s more fun to bitch about than family? No one. And I feel
differently about different friends reading my site – I mean, when
it’s people I met online to begin with, that seems perfectly natural,
but the juxtaposition of my real life friends being in my online world
can be odd (and I know that contradicts my statement of being the same
in both worlds). If I’m away, or if my friends are away, I might cut’n
paste from my journal into emails to save telling hte same story over
and over again.

And if you do, do you feel offended if they haven’t?

If they’re not regular readers of my site, I don’t feel offended if
they don’t read it, but if they’re supposed to be regular readers and
I’m talking to them and they’re like “what? when did you do that?”
I’ll be all “DIDN’T YOU READ MY JOURNAL?” mock angry. But seriously, I
know that my journal can be a higher level of self disclosure than
some people might be comfortable reading (case in point: my review of
the Dimmer gig that was just sex sex sex).

But I would like to think that everyone wants to stalk me and know
every single detail about me ever.

Do you read other online journals or blogs?

Yeah there’s about 70 that I read religiously. Thank god for
Livejournal friends lists and RSS feeds, otherwise I’d be surfing all
the time.

Do you have a favourite? WHy?

One of my current favourite sites is what I’d call a blog if I didn’t
cringe at that word so much – it’s http://wellurban.blogspot.com. Tom Beard who writes it is passionate about Wellington, and he takes the time to
read council submissions and all those things I’d never bother doing,
and provides handy summaries, and he always finds new bars, shops and
restaurants for me to try.

I also love www.dooce.com because Heather writes in an easy, funny
way, but she also writes in great detail about her struggles with her
mental health, and she’s just an inspiration, even though that’s a
cheesey-as-fuck word to use.

and I love my friends’ sites because I like catching up with their
lives. And I like it when they write about me, of course.

Do you expect your online journal to take on a particular direction in the future that you haven’t yet established or are thinking about?

I want to write more stories about things that I did in the past -
like the Lost in Translation entry I wrote recently about moving to
Japan. I want to start writing my autobiography (yes I know, I’m 26,
I’m not that interesting and I haven’t really achieved anything, again
with the hubris), and so that’s what I’m keen to do.

How many times a week do you write in?

I used to write every day, but I also used to have a huge list of
people I could only talk to online that I’d spend hours chatting to
and write at the same time. I also used to be a student who didn’t
have bung wrists, so now I only update a couple of times a week. I
wish I wrote more.

For how long?

Entries take about an hour to write – more if there are pictures and
many links, but that’s an hour of much surfing at the same time.

Would you say this takes up a lot of your time? Does reading other blogs take up a lot of your time?

Yeah it does. But that’s okay.

Before email, were you big on writing letters? Or still are?

Only when I lived overseas. Now I wish I kept the letters I used to write.

Are you personal friends bloggers/online journalist or website owners? Family members?

I’ve always had online friends who were journallers (not journalists -
that’s like, media. Although I am trained in that too), and now it’s
weird, I have a group of friends who are so not into computers but
because of goddam myspace they’ve started keeping blogs. And boy are
they ugly…

What do they think of your new hobby?

Eight years isn’t a new thing. People used to think I was weird, but I
suppose at least the one thing I can thank the word ‘blog’ for is that
it’s mainstreamed me. Hang on, do I really want to be mainstream?

And do you consider it a hobby or something else entirely?

My job is writing website content, so writing online hones my job. And
one day I’d love to write a novel – or an autobiography, so maybe it’s
research for that. I just want to have a legacy, even if it’s a “I
watched Buffy all day and then laughed at some emos and got drunk”
legacy.

Ummm, sorry about the novella-length answers, I hope this helps!

Jo

Please just tell me you are okay. Everyone.

make this page look more interesting, I realised that i have a whole swag of bear pictures saved to my PC. Naturally. I like bears. Oh my god there might be exciting things happening at my birthday party tomorrow. I have to text Brad and tell him. There. Okay, what else do I have to tell you about? Maybe about my weekend past. Mummy and Anji and Dick came up to see me. Mummy spoiled me rotton and bought me sneakers and jeans anda skirt for my birthday. We went out to the vineyards in Kumeu and ate the most magnificant duck ever, whilst sitting next to a pond with real life ducks swimming around in it. Quack quack! So that was fun. Then I paid for her to get a massage, and I got one too and my massuer was excellent. She pulled out my neck and stuff, and also told me not to click my wrists anymore. Meanie! It was fun, Now Mum is gone but Anji is still staying with me as is Dick. It’s nice getting up to find them asleep spooning on the couch.  And really, that’s about all I have to say for now. Birthday party tomorrow night should be good and exciting. Birthday dinner next week ditto. My social calendar is rapidly filling up, and my friends are all rolling their eyes at my on and off crushes.  On an unrelated note, howcome now that my friend has got himself the equivilent of an EM, why don’t I hear from mine anymore? Is it all a communist plot? I suspect it is.

Sunday September 8th, 2002

So my favourite new game to play on Sundays is to find a friend whom you know was more than a little drunk at a big social function and text them to say that there’s a photo of them snogging on the back on the Sunday Star Times. Muhahaha. Sorry.

This morning I had brunch with KateH at BoxHouse. It was choice! We gossiped lots, as per usual, and I replayed for her all the conversations that we’d had on Friday Night that she didn’t remember. The service was lovely and the food was excellent, and so it made for a very enjoyable time all around. But eventually I had to drag myself home. Haley came over in the afternoon, and we actually got a lot of work done – well, we drafted our first press release, and tried to organise other things, and freaked out about how much work we have to do. I’m so craving a time machine that can zap us to the afternoon of November 21st when I have finished my exams and we have handed in our final report and all we have to do is worry about how to wear our hair to the actual show. Not that I’m shallow or anything, oh no.

But of course, no time spent working on our assignment is without at least twice the amount of time gossiping. Haley’s like “Wow, I learn something new about you every Sunday”. Today was intimate details of my sex life, poor girl, oh, and also that I have a website. Hi Haley! Now get back to work.

This evening I did nothing at all. Oh, that’s not strictly true – I talked to KateM on the phone which was super choice cos I hadn’t talked to her in a zillion years. She says the reason that people love me is for my paranoia. I think she’s been smoking crack overseas. Then I watched Buffy and then The A’Team. And now I’ve done the reporting in to our mentor/client, like the good girl I am, and am trying to arrange my day for tomorrow. I can’t remember if I have one interview or two tomorrow. Uh oh. I think it’s just one, and then I have two on Tuesday – hopefully. I guess right now I really should try and plan out some interviewing questions. Dammit, I’m supposed to be in PR, not Journalism! Oh wait, that’s right – us PR people fulfill ALL the media functions while you others are just lazy. Call us the dark arts, will you?

Also tomorrow, I must send out zines. Have I plugged that enough? When you write to me to ask me for one, if you’re especially polite, I may even send out one of my last remaining copies of The Garland Gang cd. I wonder if I still have a page about that. Hmmm, apparently I don’t. Oh well.

And I’ve been stupid, and have been reading your old letters, and I wonder if you’re still out there watching, or what. And did I do something wrong, and is that MY editor’s tread I hear approaching? And just finally, no one calls me verbacious any more. And that sucks.

I did write up how I’m going to Welly, yeah? Yeah I think I did. Which means I’ll have to rearrange my work days to fit that in, and coupled with the fact that I’m interviewing fashion students left right and centre, I’m pretty fucking busy eh. Also tomorrow I must go to the chemist in Mt Eden and plead with them to fill my pill repeat for me even though it was supposed to have expired on the 7th of September – I so don’t wanna have to pay $20 for another prescription. I’m not entirely sure how beneficial it’s been to me – I still have pimples, and I’m still hairy, but maybe less so. And who knows what’s going on in my ovaries. Oh, that
reminds me of amusing critics:

landscribe says: uhm.. i have issues with how your expenditure and income match up.. you eat out lots
Joanna McLeod says: well
Joanna McLeod says: I have an allowance
landscribe says: and you live in auckland.
Joanna McLeod says: plus I work 15 hours a week
Joanna McLeod says: plus I’m good at eating cheaply
Joanna McLeod says: you too can have a lifestyle like me!
landscribe says: i dont have ovary and pill issues.. nor do i like dry martinis… i can only *aspire*

Oh you get my point. Shut up.

Monday August 5th

1. So it has occured to me as I sit here starting to write that if I was to stop writing here then you would have to write to me to find out what’s going on in my life.

2. I was unable to find ANYONE to go out drinkign with tonight, and this is even after I told everyone that I had a $20 tab that i needed to spend TONIGHT. I wonder if it’ll still be valid tomorrow. I am prepared to cry at teh bartender if need be.

3. The problem with complaining to people that other people have been calling you a Crackwhore means that the people you’re complaining to will probably start doing it as well, especially if you’re both tired of working on your goddam PR report and the coffee you have fetched seems to just be making your mind not work at all. Oh my god I have so much work to do.

4. I got up early today so I could go shopping. I bought ten metres of crossover ethernet cable and then built us a network this afternoon (or rather, I connected the computers that T had put thingies on the other day – but I did have to turn ‘sharing’ on and stuff, so really, I am still Geek Chic), I got a denim skirt for me (cos the zipper on the one that I made from old jeans keeps coming down, plus this one is more respectable looking anyways, especially since it’s dark denim and semi matches my lovely jacket) and some Winnie-The-Pooh pajamas which I then promptly posted off to Karen. It’s her birthday tomorrow. Happy Birthday Karen!

5. Since no one would come out drinking with me, I have instead mastered the art of spotting by myself. And if Clay throws out my knives again, there will be hell to pay!

Tuesday, July 16th 2002

Last night I was reading The Elephant Vanishes by Haruki Murakami in bed. Have you read it? I’m not sure if it’s out yet – I have a publisher’s copy of it from my book pimp Karen. Well, it’s short stories, and it seemed like every single story made me want to write a response to it, each story related to something I’ve had or experienced or felt. And I didn’t write any of it down, because i figured if I started doing that then I’d never sleep, but I have to put at least one down, and it’s about ‘The Kangaroo Communique’. A department store worker writes a letter to a customer he’s never met because of her complaint letter, and he tells her all these really random things and makes her an audio tape of him saying even more random things, and it totally made me think of you and your twenty three page letter that you sent me. He was crazy, and you were dorky and self concious, but I’m really glad that you did act “so out of character that the audience would be booing if this was a film because it wasn’t realistic” to paraphrase you badly. And yeah, that was it, basically.

Today I meant to get up at a decent hour, but I was dreaming that I was posessed and it was rather traumatic and I hope it wasn’t supposed to be my religious ephiphamy, because I can’t even spell the world, let alone believe in it. Also, I could see my breath from above the duvet, and I have lime green sheets and a pink duvet cover, so I was in no hurry to get out of bed. But eventually I did make it up, and I was domesticated and cleaned the kitchen. And then later KateH on MSN told me to go and meet her for coffee, so I unloaded the freezer and unplugged it and left it wide open to defrost, and went ot Parnell to meet her. We sat in the courtyard of Strawberry Alarm Clock and she ate my mushrooms on toast cos if you give her an inch she takes a mile, and discussed friends of hers that this audience hasn’t heard about and decided we should go and beat them up. And we made tentative plans to go to Fu on Friday, which’ll be kickass. Also on Friday night, I’m picking Bopha up at the airport, so YAY, i will have my darling flatmate back. I’m grumpy at Clay tonight cos he didn’t say anything about the amazing transformation of our freezer from a tiny icey hole into the ice free environment that it is now. I even scraped the ice off all the containers in there with food he’s cooked and squirreled away like a rodent so that you can tell what they are. He has NEVER cleaned out the freezer. Grrr. If he doesn’t clean the fridge sometime real soon, I will spit tacks. Either that or just sulk at him all the time. That’s always real effective. Not.

My books have gone slightly mouldy from being stacked in my wardrobe, lovely. I might go and alphabetise them right now cos there’s no one to talk to online. I want to go out! Tomorrow is my last ever day of holidays, really, since in Septmeber I will probably be working full time cos Bridget is going away for a conference for three weeks and Teri will be leaving soon after. Shit, last ever day of holidays – maybe I should get up at 9am and then get drunk all day long, by myself, like the misery guts that i am. That sounds like a solid idea. Either that, or I could stay in bed.

I got to use my first green sticker in my Vinne’s Know Your Flow Journal today. Exciting! I want to buy a stereo and so I’m tossing up between that or new glasses. The glasses are probably more important, right? Of course, both are dependant on me finding the cheque from Oma. I wonder if it would be wrong to write her an email saying that I need to go to San Francisco. Yeah, it probably would, eh?

Ooh kickass, I found the cheque buried in my wardrobe. Excellent. She wrote on the envelope “always be loved” and that’s just so lovely, it’d be worth so much more than the cheque to know that I would always be loved.

Arrrgh, so much stuff in my closet that needs to be cleaned of mould. My boots are all spotty – luckily it wipes off. And so many lists of memories, and also, the original Safekeeping letter, and that’s weird. But! I found two of my favourite necklaces, and some lipgloss. Kickass.

Add to that my pipes, a tiara, a copy of 6000 word version of ‘Intimacy’ that I thought I’d lost (you can read the 3000 word version in four parts on Swinney if you haven’t already (and you’re into extended short semi-fictional stories’o angst). I discovered a huge big box’o mixed stuff, so I’m retrieving stuff I want from it, throwing some things out and putting everything that I can’t be bothered dealing with for now back in it. Is it normal to get enthusiastic about cleaning your room only at 1am?

Hmmm, i just read through the 6000 word version and I’m not sure if I like it better or worse. It’s funny in reflection, cos when I wrote it at the start’o 2001, I got accused of just wanking on paper but then there’s things that have happened since then that reminded me at the time of the story, and it’s like I was writing my own foreshadowing – or my own wishlist, or whatever. Okay, I’m rambling. I’m going to install Wolfenstien 3D now cos i found the disk for it, even though I should go to bed with Murakami again. Night!

Monday June 17th

Today is my birthday, my 22nd to be exact. Any and all of you who haven’t seen me, called, txted or email suck. That’s right, ALL of you. So there.

Work was long but hey, I was weraing my pretty new skirt so at least I looked good.

Evening was Bopha and Berrin which apparently means Little Bear so I love him yelling “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” and breaking like mad as soon as I walked in the door which was a little scary.

Evening was dinner on the pillows at Caravan Serai with Bopha and Jezza and Renee and Maree and KateH and James and KateM and Jody, and oh my god that was so cool apart from getting locked in a toilet stall and having to take the lock off with a knife as an alternative to climbing over the roof into the dust and air vents to get out, but maybe we’ll write about that when we’re soberer, cos I’m actually reaaaaaaally sleep so I migth go sleep and write up an inventory tomorrow. I had a kickass birthday, and it would only have been cooler if You had called. Ha, who’s that You? You all are, maybe. Also, I’m worried that you’re not going to email me again, after my last letter to you which I guess was a suggestion that you shouldn’t, but that’s not really what I want, it’s just what is obviously for the best. But fuck the best! I want the rest! Anji says I should go and leave the boy another note with my number and see if he wants to have coffee, but I’m so not even sure that I wanna see him, I think I just want SOMEONE to fancy. Meh. Think about it tomorrow? For now bed looks all warm and soft and stuff. ANd there’s no one left to drink with cos everyone’s gone to bed and I almost fell asleep in Bopha’s when I wenmt to wake her up for the soccer which she’s not even going to watch (I’m in shock). Yeah, so I’m cold and drunk and mostly really happy, bed would be good here.

Hey, do you think I’m grown up now? We’ll see. xojo.

PS – Did I mention that I set myself on fire yesterday? Whoops!

Thursday June 6th

Bed gets harder and harder to get out of in the mornings as it gets colder and colder. Bopa and I had breakfast in Grafton together, excellently cheap donuts and Atomic coffee before I went to work, a little bit late, but the big boy Bridget wasn’t there anyways, so it didn’t matter. Hmm, I just typed ‘boy’ but I meant boss. I’m a dick. Also, do you know who else is a dick? HORRIBLE MOOCHER GIRL. Grrr. I’m getting veeeeeeeeeery annoyed with our houseguest. Last night I missed a top secret but very important meeting because she had gone out and parked me in, and then I thought she’d come back any minute now, but of course she didn’t. I really need to say something to Bopha about it, but the thing is Clay wants her gone just as much as me, and I really don’t see why I should always have to be the fucking bad guy. Clay should get a fucking spine. Hmm, I was actually in a really good mood until just now too. But maaaaaargh – I mean, it’s fair enough to be pissed off after someone’s been in your house for four weeks without any indication of when they’re going to leave, right? I mean, this is a pretty small apartment.

But anyways, brighter happier notes. Trying to get gossip out of Justin about yourself is like trying to squeeze juice from a nonjuiceable thing, which is funny given how much he’ll tell you about everyone else not pertaining to you. I have things on my mind, semi guilty conscience and stuff, but not really – I feel bad for not being as sweet to someone as he was to me, but according to Justin, it’s all cool, so that’s cool, and yeah, end of story.

My wrists have been really really really clicky lately. I’m sure I heard Natural Ange recommend something for that – Silica maybe? or Zinc? I dunno, but that’s what I should be taking. Also, less wanking would probably help too. And plenty of other things. I should try and find the other poi that Jacinta made me, but I fear it has gone the way of my sneakers and vanished into thin air somewhere in limbo between Auckland and Wellington. Hmm, i keep going to hit tilda funny key cos I use a mac at work, but that doesn’t work here. Anyways. Okay, it’s becoming pretty obvious that i don’t have much to say, so I should talk about my birthday instead.

Hi, I’m turning 22 on the 17th of June. You can find my birthday wishlist here. You should send me stuff – if you email me I will give you my address; who knows, it could be the start of a beautiful friendship (I can give you references on that one). I’m going out for dinner to somewhere cheap and BYO for dinner on my actual birthday – and the best bit is that since Clay will be away then, I don’t have to invite Kara – muhahahah, so it’s just going to be my closest nearest and dearest, cos massive dinner parties are a little scary, and then having a (not hyped) party on the 29th, after exams, to which you’re all invited, assuming that either A) I know you, or B) you know my address and aren’t intimidated by my friends. Cool. My friends aren’t really that scary, even if they are a little protective. Maree came around this evening, and it was lovely to see her, even though she didn’t share her meat (I’ve eaten too much bread today and I’m craving proteins. This could also be related to me being midcycle, I think (and a quick check of the old pillarooni packet confirms it (I hope my previously good blood pressure hasn’t gone up drastically over hte past couple’o weeks))).

You know, if that last sentence had been a maths equation, it would have been fucking hard. Oh and one other thing – I fixed the links on all the pages to my photo directory – it should have always been /cam not /photos.

Clay has no faith in me, or perhaps he has too much faith. Either way!

When did I last write? Probably a while ago. Ahh, Wednesday, when I was sick and dying. Right. Well, Thursday I got up and cleaned the kitchen with Clay – we scrubbed inside cupboards and everything. Ben started moving out around 6pm, which was also when Bopa started moving in, so I found that kind of amusing. When Ben left finally I wished him good luck. Apparently he’s going back to Thames and he’s going to become a fisherman. It seems that the big city has broken his spirit. I’d feel a little guilty for that except that i told him he owed me $175 and he only gave me $80.

We had some bubbles to celebrate Bopa moving in, and chatted to her friend Rabbi who was very nice. She went out to some gig, Clay went to hockey, and KateM picked me up and we went down to The Classic to meet up with KateH and see EyeTV’s last ever gig. After watching Sammy doing his MC intro, Katem and I realised that we hadn’t had dinner, so we went down to the Tanuki’s cave for yakitori. When we got back to The Classic, Soda were still playing. They were okay; nothing exciting. I was amazed at how empty the place was, and that it continued to get emptier and emptier, just because it was after 11pm by the time that EyeTV started playing. But they were so good! I love the singer. Of course, you may very well have noticed that i have an obsession with the singers of Kiwi bands, which works out well with KateH fancying drummers. Then again, I have started to notice the finger-work of bassists more and more, but that might just be my dirty mind. Anyways, they played Basement Static so I was stoked, and of course they played their other hits (if I was to reference you, ‘Just the Way it is’ would cut out in the middle), and we boogied lots and lots up the back. As a followup, Luke Casey noticed us dancing, and I’m sure he was impressed, so that’s cool. I couldn’t figure out why I was so comfortable with Sammy, since i’ve only met him a couple’o times whilst working for KateM and I realised that he reminded me completly of someone, but it took me until today to work out that he looks just like Olivia’s Steve. I was still very sick, and when the discoball started spinning, I was spinning too, doped up on night&day, and brufen and champange and passion cosmos. Kate was like “are you okay?” and I was like “I pay hundreds of dollars to feel like this sometimes!” which was of course an exaggeration, but still, the swimming feeling was kinda fun.

On Friday I met with my tutor in Persuasive Communication to discuss my forthcoming seminar, and she gave me some starting points – cognitive dissonance and social judgement theory if you wanna send me some papers on those topics. She also reminded me that attendance at all classes is compulsory, and then gave me back my mark for my first speech. I got 14/20 on it, and I’m wellstoked, because I also got a whole bunch of constructive comments and yeah, I kinda wanted to pin my mark to our fridge.

After that, I ran a bunch of errands and got my hair cut. Mmmmmmm scalp massage. Note to anyone who ever wants to watch me purr – play with my hair and rub my head. Thank you. After that I went up to the Office and did a whole bunch’o research using proquest; AUT’s library has gone all hightech and e-resourced since I left. And then I went to Mezze to have lunch with Dee and Shirley and Maz. Two PR girls & one in training vs one unemployed journalist; if we’d gone with our stereotypes (Dee walked in talking on her phone) it could have been very amusing. But we didn’t. So yeah, it was nice to catch up. I haven’t seen Dee since I went to see all her wedding photos, so I really should stay in touch better. She didn’t ask about the microbiologist friend’o her husband’s, and that is probably a good thing.

After lunch I was still feeling weak and tired and sick , and I got home to find a note from Bopa saying she was gonan be away for the weekend, so I decided to rent some videos. I joined the Source and got 10 for $10, even. So I watched ‘Occasional Course Language’ (shit) and later ‘Angst’, which I really liked. That’s about it, I think. Yeah, sleepysick, duvet on couch.

This evening (today being Saturday of course), Clay and I were watching ‘The Sting’ (which is excellent) when his friend Brad-friend-of-boatshoeguy showed up on our doorstep. He was just bored, so he stayed and watched the rest of the movie, and then when Clay went to bed (giving me a pointed look on his way out that suggested that I was not to seduce Brad or I’d be in trouble) he stayed and watched ‘Nightwatch’ with me as well. Exciting. Actually, it was just nice to have company; Clay’s always out, I’m not even entirely convinced that Bopa lives here yet and I’ve been too sick to pursue my friends very much and too sick to really go out (i probably shouldn’t have gone to EyeTV, but LAST GIG EVER waaaah, I was almost teary at the end). Now I’m wearing too much red lipstick and pouting in anticipation of the gangster-poker dressup night we’re planning. But I really should go to bed; after all, I’ve been ever so active today.

Today I am dying of the flu. This is the reason that my body has been aching for days, not that all my limbs are atrophying and about to fall off. I guess it was kinda brought to fruitition by me staying up til 4am to finish an assignment. Sure, that probably wasn’t the smartest idea in the world, but I’d had to work for KateM in the afternoon before that, so I couldn’t have started it any earlier (and no, I couldn’t have started it before the day before it was due – what do you take me for?) And maybe I could have worked on it while at KateM’s work, but I was helping a boy send out posters and stuff, and answering the phones, and plus the couch in the staffroom was much more comfy. Etc etc. You know me, excuses are what I do best.

Today I got up around half past eight to finish off my assignment. I’m not really sure what exactly I wrote, only that I was dying while I was doing it, and then I went into my 10am class to give some stuff to Jinan for it. But I was just about to throw up/pass out/something else bad, so I had to walk out midclass to go home. I managed to sleep for a couple more hours after that, until Ben got up and played Linkin Park so loud that all the windows in the apartment were rattling. Thank FUCK he’s gone tomorrow. Bopa’s having her bed delivered at 9.30am, although I’m guessing he won’t be out quite by then. The house is a pigstye but I can’t really clean cos when I stand up I feel faint. I’m chewing airwaves gum like it’s going out of style, popping brufen cos my wrists are hurting from essay writing, and wondering if I can doubledose on my day/night tablets. I hate being sick! Especially when there’s no one to take care of me. I wish someone would bring me lemsips and soup and stroke my forehead – am I asking too much? Clay just got home from work now (11pm) but when I told him I was sick, he hugged me holding me at arm’s length. He’s mean.

What else? Sick sick sick sick sick. I miss Tom who I haven’t talk to in weeks like mad. I miss KatieB. I was getting random text messages yesterday from someone calling me “Spunkrat” and “Babycakes” and I had no idea who they were from until they demanded gossip and used name-abbreviations so I figured out it was Andee, and so that was cool, but still, I miss my friends! Oh sure, I spent an hour at KateM’s last night drinking red wine with her after I dropped off her work keys, and I saw KateH every day in the weekend, but is that really enough? No, I don’t think so! Not when I need nursing it’s not.

Bopa was gonna call the Welly Massive to see if they were coming up this weekend, so I dunno if they are or not. I hope I’m better tomorrow, although if I’m playing Welly games, I will probably just end up semidying again. It’s hard to keep up with some people’s lifestyles!

I was in the high demand section of the AUT library (oh yeah, there’s a huge demand for me, baby) yesterday when my landlady rang to tell em she was shocked at how often our rent autopayments had failed. I tried to explain to her that I’d already told her that, and that it was Ben’s fault and why we were kicking him out, but I got all worried and told her that I’d have to call her back when I got home with dates from when I’d put money through manually. I was completely freaked out and stressed, because I know that I’ve always paid the rent, although admittedly sometimes it’s been nearly two weeks late, plus I hate anything to do with banks. I was just about in tears stressing about it when she left a message on my cellphone saying that she’d noticed that there were lots of anonymous deposits going in and that she figured that was probably me, she was sure I was reliable and not to panic. PHEW!

Tomorrow night Pluto are playing at Leftfield and EyeTV are playing at The Classic, so it would be a dilemna except that there’s no way in hell I would go to Leftfield. The last time I saw EyeTV play was at the Static launch party nearly two years ago when Clay and I won the dance contest, and they were excellent, so I may go to see them. Then again, it’s Bopa’s first night in the flat and all, so I’ll probably just stay home; that works for me too, especially if I’m still sick, which I will no doubt be.

IGSTJKD was on Monday, without ceremony. Yesterday was textfiles inside the covers of cds that people make for me. Today is Wednesday. Tomorrow is Anzac Day. In the lounge right now, Clay is being all chatty with Ben, which makes me laugh cos I think that’s really hypocritical considering how much he goes on about Ben behind his back. At least I’m just flat out grumpy with him all the time since we decided we didn’t like him. This is honour and intergrity, really! And it is also zfree not connecting, despite being on its 83rd dialling attempt.