Tag: flatmates


Things not to do whilst sucking cock

December 11th, 2004 — 10:07am

1. Throw up. Okay, it’s been a while and he was a lot bigger than I was used to anyways.

That’s the whole list. Cheers.

Last night I went to the nzgirl.co.nz party with KateH and KateB – well, I went with KateH as KateB’s date, but they didn’t check invites at the door anyways, which is a good thing because it meant that we could smuggle in La (“hey La, do you want to come to a posh party with free booze?”). It was so very mwah mwah darling. Gay Horrible Jonny was there serving drinks and he was like “hi, mwah, I haven’t seen you in ages” and I was like “oh maybe that’s cos you moved out without giving any notice…” and he was like “this is a party, we’re not going to talk about thsi now”. I wanted to punch him in the face very very much. He could have just poured me another drink and not said anything. I don’t get how people who have burnt their bridges in two cities by making off with half of everyone that they’ve stayed with’s cd collections can not know that oh gee, maybe people aren’t very happy about it. La was like “let it go…” but the thing is that Jonny and I weren’t on bad terms to the best of my knowledge when he moved out, which is what makes it worse. Anyways.

I had about eight glasses of bubbly before that ran out and then I had to switch to beer and god knows how many of those I had. A lot. Right now I am at the lovely KateH’s house but at some stage I will have to go and find my skirt at the boy’s house which I don’t especially want to do. Fuck I hate lecherous taxi drivers. Like, if people are macking it in the back of your cab, sure, watch, but DON’T COMMENT. Fuuuuuuucking hell.

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August 19, 2003

August 19th, 2003 — 3:50am

The Abstract:
You may or may not have noticed that I haven’t updated Hubris in quite a very long time, and normally that’s a sign that I’ve sunk into the big D again. In this case, that’s not the case. I’ve just been incredibly busy. First there was a bit of a sexplosion, and then there was putting out a whole issue by myself, and then another whole issue by myself in half the time, and then there was a trip to Wellington and the Hawkes Bay. Oh, and due to the Sexplosion, there was an underlying current of fear, with my period being three weeks late, broken condoms and not being sure who the father was. I’m back now, and things have calmed down a little, hence this update .

The Fuller Schbobble:
Well! Where do we start? When I last updated, we were going to have the Meet Market party and I was inviting you all. None of you showed. How rude. This led to me shagging one of Lance’s young friends, because Lance made the deliberate mistake of leaving us alone together very late at night adn I was bored of talking to the guy about how miserable he was without his girlfriend. I thought he needed some cheering up. I think it worked. He said “I’ve never had it like that before”. I laughed lots. In the morning, he asked me for my cellphone number. I was like “What? Why?” and then instantly felt mean. Lance has managed to refrain from hassling him since. The boy comes into the office sometimes to buy bus tickets but avoids looking in my direction, poor wee thing.

Later that week, I had a drink with a boy who, let’s face it, I’ve had a thing for ever since I realised that running away while he was sleeping was the stupidest thing I did last year. He was absolutely lovely, and we were getting on so damn well, swapping life stories and talking about how much we hated ‘Sex in the City’ and how totally empowering it wasn’t, and he said that sometimes you sleep with people just because you want to, and I said that sometimes you sleep with people because they give you the dirtiest sexiest look you ever received in your whole life “which is why I went home with you” and he laughed. I told him that I wished that I’d got to know him last year. Eventually he had to go, but he asked if I wanted to hang out later that night, and suggested that he should come over to my house and bring a bottle of wine. I think my jaw just about dropped off, and then when he kissed me outside the pub on Ponsonby Road, my knees went woozy. Luckily KateH picked me up then, otherwise I would have been wandering around all dazed for a couple more hours, no doubt. He came over a couple of hours later, and well, I was two hours late for work the next day. It was lovely, so much more intimate than the last time – I guess because this time I fancied him, and wasn’t in love with someone else/terrified of being hurt again, and because well, I think he’d learnt a whole lot about foreplay in the past year. I called him delicious and beautiful and both things were applicable, in the slightly more metaphorical sense of the word for ‘Delicious’. He called me a star, and now he has left the country. Sigh. I’m sure that in a parallel dimension, we have our timing right and everything is blissful. Damn you Parallel Dimension Joanna! Why do you get all the good things?

Of course, then my period was late. And later. And later. And then I found a broken condom under the bed. I was incredibly freaked out and spent an hour sitting on the floor at work semi under my desk crying. The lady at the health clinic here at work said that a test wouldn’t be accurate for like, three weeks after the event, but I went and bought the cheapest test in the supermarket anyways. When it came out negative, I got drunk. A week later I did another test, and it was still negative. I alternated between thinking about abortion and thinking about raising the baby. Of course, I didn’t know if it was Andrew’s or Ben’s, but I thought there was more of a chance of it being Ben’s, which is what I would have prefered, but I didn’t want to mess up the life of either of them, and I was all like “arrrgh” until eventually I decided that yes, I actually would be able to deal just fine with having a baby, and I could work from home four days a week and come in for one, but finally when I got to Wellington and managed to unstress about work, I got my bleed. And it hasn’t stopped since.

So yes, that was the sex. When I got to Wellington a week and a bit ago, Mum asked me about my sex life, so I told her, asking her to please not tell Anji that I gave my ex boyfriend a blowjob in the bathroom at Submission, because I’d get a fearsome telling off. Mum said “At least someone has morals”. Later, when we were getting our family portraits, she said to me “oh they told me that you don’t need to wear more makeup than usual for the photos”. I was like “umm, this is what I wear every day”. Mothers eh? Bless. If she doesn’t want to KNOW, she shouldn’t ASK. That’s all.

I also caught up with KateB in Welly which was lovely and made me feel more like a real person again. I think she’s doing really well, and has found something that suits her much better. I do worry though that her b/f doesn’t like pirate jokes. Other Welly things were finally getting some sleep, doing more reviews for the magazine which I’d rushed to finish all in one week instead of the usual two, and Oma taking us out to Logan Brown, which was amaaaaaaaazing food, and the most professional service I’ve had in a very long time. Exquisite. And not cheap at all.

Then on last Tuesday, Karen and I drove up to Napier. It was a pleasant journey, mostly. We found a nice enough backpackers to stay in – its failing was that there were no windows in the room, which made it very spooky to be called on your cellphone when the lights were off and you had no idea what the time was and wondered why the fuck your work was calling you in the middle of the night when it was actually 8.46am. Napier itself was very nice. We wandered around places and found a lovely bar called The UltraLounge. My Pina Colada had no taste at all, so I tried to explain that as nicely as I could to the barman and he made me an orgasmically good Mango Daquiri instead. We had seconds. Then I squirmed in discomfort as a loud British wanker ate all his sashimi and then complained about it. I hope I wasn’t like that man.

On the Wednesday, we went with The Grape Escape and got driven to some wineyards. Seven in fact – apparently this makes us legends, because that was in four hours, including lunch with The Best Cheese in the World at the Sileni Estate. The usual is four or five. We stayed another night in Napier, and went to Havelock North the next day, and also I made Karen go to Ocean Beach with me. It was fun. I frolicked in the sand. That night we stayed in Hastings at a Carnie backpackers and opened Macademia nuts with a big rock. I managed to buy four bottles of wine – a Trinity Hills Pinot Noir, a Mission Estate Reisling, a Brooklands Deco Chardonnay and a Te Mata Estate Rose as well as a bottle of Sour Apple Schnapps from Prenzels. No wonder the phone line got cut off back in Auckland. The guy at Brooklands was teh best, telling us long stories. Was it Brooklands? I hope it was. I will check my wine when I get back. Other people were too wanky or busy or what have you. Prenzels is the best because you can try whatever you want and I wanted to try everything. Mmmmmmmmm.

Now I am back in Auckland of course, and work is not as hectic as it has been, which is nice. I’m sad that Issue 10′s cover was lacking in our actual coverstories and that my Pacifier story didn’t get a title, but that’s my fault for not leaving clearer instructions for Designer Brad. Tomorrow I have schedualed an appointment with myself to sit down and discuss what I want to submit for the media awards. One of these days I’ll actually do the accounts for advertising sales too, but the girl who does all our invoicing said (in exchange for me scanning photos for her) “Please don’t do them until I’m ready for them”. Yay her. I’m going to Wellington again in less than two weeks for the ASPA conference. Excellent. And what else? Blah stuff, nothing too important.

We have a new flatmate in the very charming shape of Will, an American friend of Megan’s. We still need one more though.

I’m sure I’ve forgotten to say things, but really, this has gone on for hours now, so I might stop this entry here for now.

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May 31, 2003

May 31st, 2003 — 3:58am

Right now I have mysterious tunes from Mr Holloway playing in my ear. He sent them as a trade for my Zine. It’s funny how it polarises people’s opinions – some people say it makes me sound really really fucked up, others say they wish their girlfriends were that sane. Go figure.

I could be at True Colours right now, but I couldn’t be bothered, so I gave my ticket to Darren. Easy come, easy go. Has a year rolled around already since the last one? This time last year I was also hungover, but I would have been cheering at Pacifier and feeling weird and freshly fucked. A year. You’d think things would change in that time, and I guess they do. Because now I totally regret running out on *IV. Oh well, there’s only so much trying again that you can try. Second chances blah blah blah. At least the boy that I hit on something shocking last week which I can’t remember doing was nice enough to email me afterwards.

Other things? Liquor, of course. I was waiting in line for the bathroom at Spaquers last night (Lance and I were on our way home from Verboten but we thought we’d just pop in and say hi to Johnny – cue us staying for over an hour, dancing to house music and running up $40 somehow on Johnny’s tab without asking for anything) and this guy started talking to me, and he was very friendly and then he asked me my name and thought I was offended by that, and then he told me his and then I went to pee, and realised that he was a semi famous actor (ie – was on Shortland St) who everyone who reads this has probably seen having his head cut off, and that the reason that I didn’t recognise him is that the actor is rather gay and this fellow seemed to have been hitting on me. Celebrity!

Today Darren and Lance laughed at me a lot when I was dragged out of bed to feed Sebastian (he got biscuits instead’o jellymeat cos I wasn’t feeling up to it) and threw up in the shower for a while. Then KateH came over and we went to see ‘The Lizzie Mcguire Movie’, which is a Disney flick aimed at 10 year old girls. We got free coke and ice cream though, bless. And she bought me potato chips. We had the song stuck in our heads for the whole car ride home, but thank god it’s gone now. Then it was back home for some more blessed sleep.

Ammy’s gone so we need another flatmate. Kelly was going to move in but she can’t afford to. We’re kinda fucked. I hate finding flatmates.

It’s my birthday soon. Please feel free to buy me pretty things like jewellary, knee socks, scarves, bright coloured eye shadow and lip gloss. I also need some knives, and a cat door. Thank you. In exchange, I will tell you that I saw Pluto play on Thursday and they were so fucking amazing, as per usual, and “8 O’Clock” nearly made me cry, as per usual, and I took a fuckload of photos what you can look at here.

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