Hubris.co.nz

Okay, so I’m kind of cheating this week. The drinks weren’t free. But I could say that I paid for the entertainment and the prospect of finding true love, and the booze was additional. So with that in mind, this week (two weeks ago, fine) the free drinks came courtesy of:

VINO EROTICA!

TUESDAY NOVEMBER 27th

Now this tasting is purely by customer demand (it has nothing to do with us).
Strictly limited to 24 people – this is a night of speed-date-wine-tasting.

Each person booking in for this exclusive tasting must be single and bring a
single friend of the opposite sex with them
(to ensure a high calibre, you understand).

Upon arrival you will recieve an aperitif, and then be sorted into random teams
of 6 people to answer multi-choice questions on each of the wines you will be
tasting. At the end of each round of wine – 3 people must move to the next table
for the next wine and a new bunch of people!

A night sure to be filled of intrigue, adventure, hilarity, erotica and romance!!!!!

$30 PER PERSON
TUESDAY NOVEMBER 27th
6.30pm

PLACES STRICTLY LIMITED – Remember singles only and you must include a friend
of the opposite sex with your booking!

I like wine. And I like my friend Tom, so I went along to chaperone him. Because obviously as an old cougar spinster, I am the ideal chaperone. However, the best thing was that upon arriving, I didn’t feel at all like a cougar. I was at least five years younger than all the other women there. Hurrah!

Actually, that’s a lie. The best thing upon arriving was the glass of delicious bubbly that tasted like it was Italian and prosecco-ish, but was in fact an Australian bubbly chardonnay. We drew numbers out of big jars for our table places, and after another glass of the delicious bubbly, we sat down in groups of three men/three women, and had to announce our star signs. Simple, I’m a Gemini. No one else at the table was, to the best of my recollection. We were poured tastings from a bottle in a brown paper bag, and had to answer three multichoice questions about it. I knew straight away it was a Sav, and I was pretty sure it was from NZ, and Marlbourgh at that. Yay me! But we were assisted in our blind tastings by Nicola’s explanations of what the regional differences were like, had our glasses topped up, and smiled and nodded.

The boys moved over to the next table to be replaced by a new lot, and the question we needed to answer to get was “what kind of car would you be?”. I said I’d like to think I was some big brash mustang convertible in some fantastic colour, but I’d probably be a white prius – not the best kind of hybrid available, and like, so last year in trends”. One guy said he’d be a concept car, and I said “Like Homer’s with the giant cup-holder?” and the table went completely silent and I watched tumbleweeds roll past. Really? REALLY? Not even that basic a Simpsons reference could get recognised? Woah. Tough crowd. And a tougher wine. I think it was a viogner. I can’t remember. Nice work Jo. Perhaps Tom could post if he remembers what the wines were.

In the next group, we had to say what our favourite word was. I thought of a long-gone friend’s long letter to me, and claimed ‘succulent’ as my own. I got to use the word ‘onomatepaia’ in my explanation, which luckily was out loud so I didn’t have to spell it. Someone said “you’ve practiced this answer”. I said “I work in communications”. Other than that, there wasn’t much talk of work. One guy said that his favourite word was ‘Orb’, and I said “so do you like The Orb?” and he was like “well I like the planet earth” and I was like “huh? I meant the early ’90s techno band” and he stared at me like I was crazy, so I was very happy when the guy across the table was like “I like The Orb” and named some of their albums. Finally someone understood me! I wasn’t actually talking crazy after all! In fact, that guy was probably my favourite of the night. He laughed at my jokes, and seemed normal, and didn’t have a mo. I could have put down at the end of the night that I wanted his email address, but that would of course have opened me up to the possibility of rejection, and god forbid I should ever take any chances! We drank some red wine. It was delicious. That’s all I remember about it. Perhaps it was Italian. Or Argentinian.

In the next group, we had to give examples of the best or worst pickup lines we’d ever heard or used. I offered up “Your curtains scare me – can we go to your room?” as laaaaaame (although that worked), and as possibly the best ever, “I’d buy you a drink but I don’t buy girls drinks because they use me too much” as most powerful, because it got us talking, made me buy him a drink to make up for all the other girls, and introduced the user as a wounded flower who obviously needed someone to take care of him. At least three times that night. Heh. We also drank more red wine. There was a girl at my table who was getting most of the wine questions right. The other girl at the table was not very forthcoming with answers. Some of the guys weren’t either. One of the guys in the previous round had said he didn’t have a favourite word. I told him his new favourite word was ‘banana’ and he had to use it in the future. I suspect this meant that he would have had to tell every other group as he went around about it, but somehow I doubt he would have. Shy people freak me out. People at the table talking about how hard it is to meet people when you’re in your thirties and don’t like bars also freak me out a lot. Thank god for being 27.

The next group, with a delicious bubbly shiraz was all about the “naughtiest thing you’ve ever done”. Both Tom and I, comparing notes later, were very much like “Seriously? WTF?” about people’s “naughtiest” stories, which consisted of things like “knocking a book out of a teacher’s hand” at age five, or their boss – not even them – throwing up in a cab. My story was of revenge in a toilet stall. It got shared in front of the whole group. Awesome. At least I was happy to participate. I’d had Lominger Competencies earlier in the morning at work, and had been pissed off then too by people who wouldn’t talk and join in. What’s the point? So I had some more wine, and then ran off to Quiz Night where the quiz master told me to shut up because I was drunk. Heh.

EDIT: Tom says “The second one was a Pinot Gris from Argentina, there was a Malbec there somewhere, plus a Negroamaro from somewhere in southern Italy (Puglia, I think).

Your description of the night was bang on. All I remember was getting drunk quickly and acting too loud and inappropriate for what was pretty much a bunch of wallflowers.”

Of course, he could have commented that for himself, but oh well.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. My free* drinks last week were supposed to come courtesy of the seminar I attended – Social Media’s Impact on Communications at the posh old Wellesley Club. But my cow-orkers left straight after the seminar, and it was so damn hot in the room that when I saw the bar wasn’t even fully set up yet, I hightailed it out of there to pay for a glass of wine at Plum (and trick Tom into buying me one) instead. Just as well then, that we had $100 in Southern Cross bartabs to drink that night then.

One of the vouchers had actually expired the week previously (I’d left it at home accidently, so we had to pay that night, shock horror) but we calculated that the somewhat inept staff would fail to notice that, and we were right. Also, I should now direct your attention to this very gracious comment from the general manager, because it is very gracious. $100 + $10 bought two bottles of Five Flax Reisling (standard sweet reisling, quite drinkable but I’m getting a bit bored of drinking it every week, however it’s a big jump from its $30 price to $45 for Rose) and two jugs of Emerson’s Bookbinder for the boys. We got the right table-booth, and the Quizmaster was back from his knee operation so we didn’t have to resort to calling ourselves “Anus. Heh heh, anus” because my arch nemisis The Poo from 2004 (remember that horrible fashion show that I did?) was reading the questions. A good time was had by most (the numbers of people on our two teams did my head in somewhat), and we won $80 in bar tabs which we drank this week. Hurrah!

* Free to me, obviously, the seminar was paid for by my work.

Last week I was totally and utterly exhausted, so I planned to use the Quiz Night bar tab as my source of free drinks, but then I left the tab at home. Luckily Karen stepped up to the plate and told me about the book launch for Looking flash: CLOTHING IN AOTEAROA NEW ZEALAND
edited by Bronwyn Labrum, Fiona McKergow, & Stephanie Gibson at Massey on Thursday. That fit in well with my later movie date, so I grabbed the lovely Annabel and we trekked up the quadrillion stairs to what used to be the museum, which is now Massey.

There was an intimitading-looking bouncer man posted by the revolving door who asked us what we were there for, but when we said “the book launch” he smiled and pointed us in. I guess he was just there to keep away people who were only there for the booze…

We arrived in the foyer and I was surprised by how tiny it was. I mean sure, it was jampacked with 50 people or so, but I was expecting it to be HUUUUUUUUUUUUGE. Perhaps my sense of spacial perception has changed a little bit since I was 10. Or perhaps going to the Metropolitan Museum in New York has ruined me for all other museums (which is probably true, because that place was sofa king amazing). We found spots on the coat rack, and managed to make our way to the bar for Totora Hills wine (I felt like white, but there was only chard, so I had red instead) before Dr Bronwyn Dalley, The Chief Historian for the Ministry for Culture and Heritage started speaking about all her fashion crimes. It was a really nice speech actually, funny and full of vivid imagery. Then one of the authors spoke, and we were encouraged to have a good time. I had another glass of wine and thumbed through the book which was pretty intellectual-academic looking. Plenty of people were buying it, which is good. We spotted a table with some food plates on it, but they were empty except for a handful of tiny tartlets. Sigh. So it was out of there and off to SMK for us. Buy the book, it sounds very interesting and the people involved in it are nice.

Tom posted on the Wellingtonista recently about the places to drink for free. Join me as I try to score free drinks every week until the end of the year.

By the time Friday rolled around and I hadn’t had any free drinks (partly because I was desperate to get some home time in to prepare for my party and to keep from going completely insane), I was getting kind of nervous. Would my challenge fall over in only its third week?

Of course it wouldn’t. I’m Jo Hubris, after all. I have my finger in many many pies. And so the lovely Anna from the Wellingtonista stepped up and invited us all to the opening of Any Suggestions at the Film Archive. Yay! I love the film archive but I hadn’t actually been there since that time I saw the editor of NME speak, courtesy of the British Council. So it was happily that I headed on down to the corner of Taranaki and Ghuznee after work.

The event itself

Companions: When I walked in, I was pleased to see a whole host of Wellingtonistas – Hadyn (and Wellingtonista PAG Amy), Tom and Kowhai, who had secured a table and were sitting contentedly around it chatting. Anna was also floating around.

Venue: the Film Archive lobby is a cafe/library-type place, all done up in white plastic like a futuristic 1960s set. It’s a very pretty place. There weren’t huge crowds of people, so it was nice to be able ot have a table to return to, especially to dump a heavy bag (BYO for dinner later), and you didn’t have to stand balancing your glass. It also meant you could peruse the exhibition at your leisure, and feel very very civilised.

Drink: the bar had a list of drinks available, which included Gisbourne Gold (nice!) and Monteith’s Original, and chardonnay and cabernet-merlot from Okahu Estate Shipwreck Bay. I made myself sound like a fucking twat when I went up and asked for a glass of Cabernet Merlot, and watched the girl pour a glass of the chardonnay, and when she handed it to me I was like “yeah that’s cool, but can I have a glass of the Cabernet please?” So I tried to avoid going to the bar after that, because who wants to be known as Douche Girl? Not me. I had three glasses of the red, and it was nice and mellow.

Food: our table had a bowl of delicious senbei/peanut mix on it, and that was constantly nibbled.

People: As well as the lovely Wellingtonistas, Anna introduced us to some people from the VBC, one of whom I had already met as he was my next-door neighbour growing up in Ngaio.

Scoring factor: given that I didn’t talk to anyone new, and that I was leaving by 7pm, zilch. Plus the presence of actual children can be a little offputting towards encouraging making knuckle-children.

Celebrities: None that I recognised. Unless you count a douche who’s had grafitti written about him in both the men’s and the women’s bathrooms at Mighty Mighty. And I don’t.

Overall: A very pleasant way to start a gentle Friday night. Thanks Anna!

Tom posted on the Wellingtonista recently about the places to drink for free. Join me as I try to score free drinks every week until the end of the year.

For the second event in my series, tonight I went to:

“The 2007 Annual General Meeting of Members of Young IT Professionals Network Incorporated trading as Unlimited Potential (the “Society”) will be held at the Wellington Convention Centre, 111 Wakefield Street, Wellington on Thursday, 1 November 2007, commencing at 6.00pm. Join us from 5:30pm for networking.”

Now, if something says that there’s “networking” at 5.30, you’d read that as “drinks”, right? So in that spirit, myself and a couple of of other IT-ish people (Tom and James) RSVPed and concocted a clever plan to go for the drinks and leave before the AGM.

Of course, that’s not what happened. James, Tom, Shirley and I showed up at a little after 5.30 (apparently there’s no longer an umbrella on the corner of Wakefield and Cuba – when did that happen?), we found a group of people standing around in the town hall, and while the ceilings sure had pretty moulded plaster ceilings, THERE WAS NO BAR!!!!!!!!! James left because he’s a good family man, so we cut out of there straight away, and headed to Finc for a bottle of Squawking Magpie pinot gris. For $39 it was easily dividable by three, and peary and delicious. After Shirley decided to go study, I made Tom go back to the Town Hall with me, out of determination to live up to my drinking challenge for YOU, my dear Hubris reader.

So back up the pretty tiled stairs we went, going “hmmm, it sounds very very quiet”, but when we saw the door to the foyer room place where people had been gathered was open (wow, how badly constructed was that sentence?) we thought we might as well creep in there to see if perhaps the bar had been set up while people were still AGMing. We stepped in, and we saw that it was, so I raised my arms in a great big “Woooooo…” but then, I saw him. The Wellington Convention Centre’s very own Clarence Weidman, complete with blue blazer and grey slacks. He was standing possessively behind the drinks table, so I changed course and headed to the badge table instead. Clarence muttered something and made a move to hold open the door into the council chamber, and so somehow Tom and I found ourselves sitting at the back of the AGM, me trying not to snicker as we came in the middle of a speaker that I of course took totally out of context when he was asked “So what did you say to him in the morning?” and he spoke about how he let the mysterious him talk about himself, totally like they’d hooked up, especially after he said “oh yeah he pulled out all the keys”. Everyone looked very serious and not sniggery at all, so I tried to take photos of the council chamber’s chandelier instead, but my camera battery was flat. I said “Aye” to some things, and hoped that someone would say no, and then the meeting was over, and the “networking” started.

The event itself

Companion: Tom, who I have been doing a lot of drinking with lately. He works in ICT as well, so he was a legitimate guest of the event.

Venue: The drinks were held in the foyer outside the Council Chambers in the Town Hall, on the first floor. I love the Town Hall so much that my very first post on the Wellingtonista was about it, so it was nice to see a new area. The Council Chambers were all wood panelling and leather, just the way you’d imagine someone evil like Kerry presiding over, and the foyer was lighter-coloured, but nice and old fashioned. The toilets had sensor-lights in them, which was appreciated.

Drink: The bar table had glasses already poured of now-warm Sav, Chardonnay and red (I didn’t recognise the brand, it was probably some side-Montana label), as well as Heineken and perhaps Tui? They topped up glasses if they noticed you bring one up, but then stopped attending the bar so it was grab-what-you-can.
Tally: 5 glasses Sav, approximately $35 in a bar, $12 at home

Food: There were two platters of antipasto stuff on two tables, with a plate of mixed bread on each. The selection of meats and cheeses and bits and pieces, was really good-looking, but as I said to Tom “You can tell that Kerry provided it due to an obvious lack of thinking and follow-through in terms of not actually providing us with knives with which to cut the cheese”. Of course, Clarence Weidman came out with them then, just to ruin my joke as well as make me attend an AGM. Bastard!
Tally: A whole bunch of stuff, but not a sizeable meal of it though.

People: I recognised a lot of people from Bar Camp, and I got to talk to Mike and Matthew about the olden days of the interweb (like, totally last millennium!) which was fun. I also am now apparently joining a women in ICT group, and if my bag was at my feet I’d tell you exactly what it was, but you know, my couch is too comfy to get up from.

Scoring factor: There were some cute boys, but I didn’t talk to them. A lot of people seemed to take off straight after the AGM, so I wonder where their priorities really lie…

Celebrities: There was someone there who is going to be nominated for Wellingtonista Person of the Year. But I can’t tell you who. Yet.

Gifts: None. Apart from the gift of networking, I suppose.

Total freebie value: It cost me $13 in wine while waiting around, and then 20 minutes of listening to the AGM, but I talked, networked, ate and drank for an hour, so I’d say I was $20 up (that’s serving myself at home prices), ultimately. Plus I got to do this entry, and that’s what’s most important, right?

Tom posted on the Wellingtonista recently about the places to drink for free. Join me as I try to score free drinks every week until the end of the year.

For the first in my series, tonight I’m going to the

“AUT Alumni Cocktail function is this Thursday from 6 – 8 pm. at Hotel Inter-Continental.”

You can sneak in and join me there, and I’ll report back on how it is when I come home, including analysis of the food, the selection of drinks, the company and how much I got out of it and its approximate monetary value.

The event itself

Companion: Fellow AUT Alumni Shirley, and if we were bad sort of people, we may have snuck someone else in under the pretext that they were in our class. But we’re not bad people, honest.

Venue: The drinks were held at the Hotel Intercontinental, in one of the function rooms. It was a very bland space designed for around 30 people. Arm chairs were around the walls, and there were a couple of small tables in the middle of the room, cleverly placed for putting down empty drink glasses, and with bowls for rubbish. An effort was made to make them look more interesting by scattering flat blue glass marbles on top. The bar table was near the entrance door, which was guarded by an AUT staffer to make sneaking in people without them being added to the mailing list much harder. Some of the lights in the windowless room weren’t turned on, allowing the non-AUTer to lurk in the shadows more. Oh, and the toilets had individual hand towels. Classy.
How good was it?: I hadn’t been to the Intercontinental since we went there for KateB’s 12th birthday dinner when it was the Park Royal, so that was nice to do something different, but it was an incredibly bland space.

Drink: The bar had bottles of Montana wine displayed in classy silver bottle-coolers – Lindauer, Sav and a red I didn’t inspect. The beer range was Monteiths and Heineken, and in an unusual touch, they also had a cruet-holder with classy bottles of raspberry, lime and lemon syrups, as well as a range of mixers, suggesting that maybe there were spirits behind the bar. But given how long it took to get a glass of wine poured (there was only one girl behind the bar, who struggled with the Lindauer cork for aaaages), I didn’t bother asking for a mixed drink so I can’t confirm that they were actually offering spirits, or what brand they were.
Tally: 4 glasses bubbly ($28 value in a bar, $9 at home)

Food: Food was brought around on small platters by one waiter, who didn’t circle the room properly, so most of the food went to the people nearest the door, dammit! It consisted of mini sushi (I hate sushi), coconut-crusted prawns (they looked so good I almost tried one, but I don’t like prawns either), rare roast beef on polenta bites (really yummy) and tiny pieces of cheese on tiny bagel chips (only one lot of these circulated as far as I saw).
Tally: 3 pieces beef, 1 piece cheese – I’m estimating the catering was $2.50 per menu selection per person, with 2 or 3 items offered for each thing, so maybe a $5 catering value.

People: There weren’t many nametags left when we went in, but it turned out that there weren’t all that many people there at all. We were pounced on for conversation when we entered, and gradually we started talking to other ex-comms people, all at a very superficial level. There was, however, one woman there who might be a valuable business contact for both Shirley and I, so that’s a good start.

Scoring factor: Zilch. It was almost all entirely corporate women, or older men associated with AUT. And it was far too civilised to start to find out juicy details about the people.

Celebrities: Gemma Gracewood, who didn’t stay long.

Gifts: We got AUT Alumni Network branded pens when we left. They’re silver, with a padded grip and quite classy. However, when you work in an office, good pens lose their novelty value. Unless this one can write in SPACE! Which I don’t think this one can. I also got an AUT-branded lanyard on my name badge, which I’m sure I can be put to good use as a red accessory for my work ID instead of the usual pale blue I use.

Total freebie value: We were only there for around an hour out of its two hour window, so had Shirley not wanted to go and catch up with our mysterious friend who went out for a cigarette and didn’t come back, I could have made better use of the bar. But with such a small group of people assembled (20) and only one bar person, frequent trips to the bar would have been more noticeable and frowned on. Still, it cost me only a quick application of eyeshadow and a ten minute stroll from work, and I got to hang out with Shirley, and then her mysterious friend’s friend bought me a drink in the hotel bar afterwards, so not a waste of time at all. A fine start to free drinks each week, me thinks.

‘ve been to three Industry parties this year, excluding work-dos. Here’s how they compare. Well, not ‘compare’ as such, cos I had fun at all of them, but here’s how different parts stacked up against each other. Don’t ask me why it’s so low down either, I can’t fix it. But if you click here hopefully it’ll jump.

Stories may come later. What do you want to know?

I’m now writing this almost two weeks later than events, which is strange cos I didn’t realise that time went by so quickly. Nevermind, let’s plunge into my last couple’o days in the Auck town shall I?

Monday 6th December
I finally managed to have myself a merry little sleep in, tucked away in Oratia, which was certainly very pleasant, even though I felt terrible cos I got a text from Martina going “Okay I’m ready! Meet me on K’Road” and I had to reply going “umm I just woke up, see you in an hour or so?” But eventually I made my way into town and picked her up, and since it was a gorgeous sunny day we drove over to Devonport and had lunch at Manuka. Then, because it was so very nice and because we both found ourselves being the only other people we knew who wanted to do it, we set off to look for a beach. Now, you’ll of course recall that I once spent the summer working for the North Shore City Council and that my job then seemed to consist of little more than driving around all day getting suntanned. However, that was a long time ago, so we went for a rather extended drive up the motorway to Greville Road and then a long way back down East Coast Bays Road (which pretty much doesn’t go past the sea at all!) trying to find a nice little beach, before I took drastic action and found our way to Milford Beach.

There weren’t very many people there, which was great, and there was a changing shed with showers and an open-roofed area like an Italian courtyard which was great, so we got suited up and tried to get away from any boys on the beach. The water was very very cold and it made me hyperventilate a little bit (“sorry Martina, I know I sound like I’m heavy-breathing at you…”) but it warmed up a little, at least enough to frolick and try to do headstands in. When I started trying to do yoga poses and pretty much ended up nearly drowning myself, it was time to call it a day. The showers weren’t warm, but at least they weren’t salty. We headed back to the right side of the bridge to Occam for some more food and a perusal of Civic’s video sale (Cruel Intentions, Far from Heaven and umm something else for $12) before Martina left me for a ride home. I was waiting for Iva to call me so we could meet up, so I found myself a park to sit in and cuddled up with The Dirt. It’s soooo good. I wish I was in Motley Crue, for serious.

It turned out that Iva was trapped on the shore, so we decided to see each other the next day instead, and I eventually made my way towards KateH’s, via a phone call to La to see if he wanted to come along to the party we were going to that night, for a girlie website that I won’t name – which, after I uttered the magic words “free booze” of course he did, so I told him where the party was at and he said he’d meet us there. At Kate’s I believe we probably watched Shortland St together, and got poshed up, me making the last minute decision to switch from my party frock to my cleavage top (and of course SHRN yellow scarf), which I think in hindsight was quite fortuitous, and we set off to pick up her friend Olly, who is British but edits a certain ‘lifestyle’ paper. Haha, that’s me exercising my ‘get out of jail free’ card again. I get to say “but” because we all know that I find British accents ridiculously hot, BUT I try not to waste my time hankering after boys if I know straight away (as opposed to at Ruby on Friday) that they’re gay. Y’dig? Yeah. Anyways. We had to trek around and around and around The Secret Garden looking for La, cos the entrance isn’t actually on the street that it says it’s on, but eventually we kind of gave up and went in, keen to get started on the free liquor. Or at least I was. Given that KateH was driving, I imagine that she was a little more restrained. I got severely fucked off because Horrible Gay Jonny (and let me point out here that the ‘gay’ tag is used because before him I’d had another Horrible Jonny flatmate) was serving drinks and grrrrrrrr he makes me so mad with his theiving and then his fakeness. Bah. I’ve vented about this already. But I am setting the scene for what comes later by giving a partial reason as to why I downed so so so many glasses of bubbly very quickly ie: I was angus and also a little bored until La showed up. KateB was at the party too, but she left pretty early, so mostly I just talked to Olly and KateH (although they knew lots of people) and La, until much later in the night when we were out the back adn the bubbly had run out and I’d switched to beer and was talking to a whole bunch of random guys and a couple of other people I knew. Now, in further stage setting, let me tell you about the toilets at the Secret Garden – they have shower curtains for doors. Yuck! I’d had one piece of cheese that went straight to my bowels and I was like aaaaargh, but then I thought “Well, you know what? These girls here jostling for space to adjust their makeup, I don’t respect them, why should I care about what they think of me?”. Later though the toilets were all floody and still really crowded, so I couldn’t have a quiet puke, which meant that all the beer and bubbly stayed in my stomach. Foreshadowing.

Eventually almost all the people I knew had left – KateH with the oh so subtle “call my cellie when you get to my house – or if you should happen to be staying in (certain address implying that I would be in someone else’s bed), I can come and pick you up from there”. Aww bless her. I imagine I said something like “Well, I’d like to say that’s not going to happen but I’d probably be lying”. Needless to say pretty much as soon as she’d left, perhaps, I found myself making out with a boy, and soon we were in a taxi on our way to his house. Now, I’ve made out in taxis with three other boys before (oh hush, not all at the same time) and the drivers have always been the embodiment of discretion. This driver was an ASSHOLE. Okay, admittedly I can’t remember exactly what it was that he was saying, but I think it was of the nudge nudge wink wink “go on my son” type commentary which was really really unnecessary, and which probably contributed a little to my later unease. Anyways so I found myself in a house that is very familiar to me, and in fact on a bed that I’d been on before, peeing in a bathroom where I’d peed so many times before mid-coitally, and it was just a little bit strange. Before I knew what was what, he had a condom on, and I was like “woahhhhhhh, wait a minute….” I know that I’ve bitched for a year and a half about my total lack of sex, but what with it staring me in the face like that (so to speak, of course), and the feelings that being back in that house stirred up again, I suddenly realised I couldn’t do it, and I told him so. I’ve been without sex for so long I’m a second-time virgin, and I just think it’d be really wrong to do it with someone that I’m not in love with – or failing love then at least Ridiculously Hot wrists-tied-above-my-head, him-whispering-in-my-ear-about-all-the-things-he’s-going-to-do and then how-he’s-going-to-pass-me-onto-all-his-friends-cos-I’m-such-a-fucking-whore Dirty Passion Violent Fucking. Giggly-drunk-friend-scoring isn’t good enough, unfortunately. So instead, I went down on him (well, I would have anyway) but I was in much more of a hurry for him to hurry up and come so that he’d stop begging me to let him fuck me. He still had the condom on at the start, and that was strange, and of course, his dick was hitting the back of my throat, and I was still full of beer and bubbly, so what happened? Oh yeah, I started gagging and my mouth filled with vomit. Now, I thought I’d just swallowed it back (heh) but after he’d finally finished, he was like “umm, I’m going to go sleep in the lounge, cos you threw up on this side of the bed” and I was like “omg, wtf?” and then I got all offended and was like “FINE! If you won’t sleep with me then I guess I’ll go to Kate’s” (cos you know, I totally had the moral highground on my side – hahahaha) and after he’d left, I groped around in the dark (some more, haha man, how many fucking double entendres can one entry have? I guess this is like, a year and a half’s worth poured into one night) trying to find my clothes, since he doesn’t have a lightbulb in his room. I left without a skirt (luckily I was wearing pants underneath) but with pearl necklaces (haha, see previous-to-previous brackets) and hiked up to the main road to get some cash and find a taxi and hope that my cellphone battery didn’t die, which it seemed to be doing. Somehow though I managed to get a taxi, and the driver seemed much nicer when I complained about the previous one, and KateH got up and let me in and all seemed well in the world.

Tuesday 7th

I woke up around 10.30am, feeling pretty damn sorry for myself, let me tell you. Kateh had left a room outside the room that I was sleeping in with her worknumber on it, so I gave her a call cos I knew she was supposed to come home and turn the alarm on when I left. When I told her that yes, I had gone home with the boy, she briefly wondered why I hadn’t just stayed the night there then, but accepted my explanation that it was weird. I don’t know if I mentioned the puke thing or not – I probably tried to conceal it so that she didn’t worry about her flatmate’s bed. Who knows? Anyways, it transpired that she wouldn’t be able to make it home until lunchtime so I had a cold shower (like I should have had the night before, but nevermind) and settled down with my laptop to write the ‘Things Not To Do Whilst Sucking Cock’ entry that only my Hubrettes can read, and to contemplate how much my black and silver skirt meant to me vs the having to go back to the boy’s house and pick it up. Well, when KateH finally got home it was 2.30pm so I realised I couldn’t put it off anymore, so it was off to the boy’s house with me. Him and all his flatmates were all sitting out on the back porch in the sun. I had no idea what he’d told them, but I do know that the walls there are paper thin (and that the girl he shares a wall with is a prudey little virgin, hahahah). I tried to play it all casual, just “hey, how’s it going?”. He was laughing at me when I had to say “so um, did I leave my skirt in your room?” so I double-casualed it by saying “haha, that sounds really bad”. Yeah I’m going to pretend that your flatmates didn’t hear me faking an orgasm if I want to, okay? Sweet. They were like “oh what are you up to today?” which meant I had a trump card up my sleeve – I told them I was going to go see Iva, which was true but also I knew that there was bad blood between them all, so they started going blah blah blah which took the heat off me and I got to leave holding my head up high. Phew!

Next up on my agenda was a visit to Wendy’s and then to the shore to see Iva Beaver. we sat in the sun and talked about Bernard, amongst other things. Ahh sweet sweet dusty cups. Then I went to meet up with OLIVIA and STEVE and KYLA, once I finally found her house, that is (stupid Americans saying “eighteen” instead of “seventeen”, or more likely stupid hungover not-awake&capable of listening me). After cruising Franklin Road to see the lights and marvel at the audacity of the house with a COFFEE CART in front of it, we went to Joy Bong for dinner, where I struggled to question how the tofu was done in a tofu and eggplant dish I was eyeing up (when I’m around vegans I eat vegan). I got a different dish instead cos I was afraid it’d be the squishy kind I don’t like, and as Olivia said of my tofu, it turns out i want it done like it’s a bouncy castle. It was so great to see them again, cos I haven’t seen them since umm forever, but they were tired from the flight, and I was tired from the debauchary and found myself only able to say “the thing with the stuff” and “so hot right now”. Whatever happened to Verbacious Joanna? We fought over the bill and I thought I won and paid it but the next day I found some cash in my bag so either they slipped it in or I am just terrible with money. Then we went back to Kyla’s to watch half of Harry Potter 3 and make dirty jokes about paedophilia. Have some chocolate little boy, and all of that. Of course the night didn’t last nearly long enough, but sigh, I guess I’ll get to see them again in a couple of years or something.

Wednesday 8th
Having stayed at Kateb’s again, I got up in time to do some research on a Certain Band Who Have A Lot of Members adn Wear Robes because I was interviewing their frontman. He was a little grumpy and the line wasn’t that good. Sigh. Then I drove back to Welly and Sebby was overjoyed to see me. The end.

Wednesday, June 11th

Repeat after me: free stuff is good. Awhile ago, Clayton got a postcard in the mail inviting him to the preview of ‘About a Boy’ (you know, Nick Hornby & Hugh Grant type thing etc etc) which promised food and liquor before hand as well. Clay wasn’t home at the time, so I texted him with the hypothetical question “Hey, if you should ever get free tickets to ‘About a Boy’ would you take me?” and of course, he stupidly said yes he would, so I presented him with the card when he got home. Ha. It made me laugh a lot at the time, because just the day before, i’d explained to him that generally when girls ask for things, they already know if it’s possible or not (ie: “Clay, can I borrow a half a tomato?” “Sure, there’s one in the fridge” “yes I know, that’s why I want to borrow it” etc). So anyways, that movie was today.

But if we want to veer back in time, we’ll start at the start of my day, which was some time after noon, because my bed was just so damn comfy, and also I’d been up late talking on the phone to my Attention Seeking best friend in Chch (I swear, I’m so defensive lionness with cubs eh). I think it’s so important that there are people that i can say “I mango bleach” to and worry about The Hot Potato Syndrome and they know what I’m talking about. Plus our new insult for one another is “hey, stop attention seeking” which is funny if you know the context and potentially offensive if you’re the person I got it off, but hey it actually really offended me, so there. (And I think I tried to say that in person, but I’m always so much better at bitching about it after the fact). Anyways, so where was I? Oh yeah, day at home, doing housework. I cleaned my room! You can actually see all the concrete now, which is not necessarily a good thing. And I divided my notes up into their three topics, which is half way to starting studying, isn’t it? I don’t have an exam for a week though. Blah blah.

Around 5, Clay and I walked to Newmarket for the movie thing. He mentioned that Kara would probably be really pissed off that he’d taken me and I chuckled more that was polite but oh well. Then my arch on my right foot got really really sore, so I guess that was my punishment. The free food and liquor was at Lonestar, and there were masses and masses of people so it took ages to get a drink, meaning Clay and I only managed three each in the 45 minutes that we were there. The food consisted mostly of tortillas and dip. Waiters kept walking past with plates of ribs which we wanted, but they got put on other tables and we couldn’t be bothered getting up. Some nice ladies came along and tried to pick up Clay, and he felt all special cos he knew lots of people there from his work. I should stop laughing at him so much. The theatre was also really full so we had to sit too close, but the movie was really good. Hugh Grant is getting hotter as he gets older, which is disturbing, and the kid was so cute! I want a 12 year old son. (hmm, i should have been more sexually active in 1990 and not been concentrating on getting Mum to buy me Subway shoes and a peace necklace I guess).

After the movie, we went and got Burger King, which I instantly regretted and took a bus home. Bops and Leo were sitting in the lounge patiently suffering through Buffy because I was taping it (hey man, she’s coming back from the dead!) but as soon as it was over, Clay watched the soccer that he’d taped and I made lots of phonecalls to arrange my birthday dinner. I wanted to have it at Saigon, but they’re shut on Mondays so I’m having it at a Turkish place instead. Then I rang around trying to organise my friends, most of whom didn’t answer their phones – kate & kate, I’m looking at you here. I did manage to get aholdo Justin, who said he might come, and then we talked about Brand JK reliability, which is amusing. It’s where I do most of my shopping – so I put in a pre-order as well. Ha, fuck I’m terrible. And boring.

I put the wrong link in to my birthday wishlist last night, but it just occured to me that i have to say “Hey, if you’re my friend, and you’ve had a birthday this year, and I have been to your celebration, I hope you haven’t bought me anything, because I didn’t buy you anything and I would feel (a little)bad”. See, I do have a conscience after all. Last night while I was lying in bed I realised that when work finally DOES pay me, it won’t be the one week’s salary I was expecting, it’ll be FOUR weeks, and that’s kinda really cool. OH MY GOD! THEY PAID ME! I HAVE A POSTIVE BANK BALANCE! I haven’t had one of those since i left Foodstuffs. I can pay the rent, AND the phonebill now. I can even have a good birthday, and I can buy KateH drinks tomorrow night when we go out (except that you try so hard to not talk to me about reading my journal, so you can’t ask for them so HA!). And I can ring up WINZ and cancel the $50 a week they lend me which they’ll be cancelling in a couple of weeks anyways cos I will no longer be doing enough papers to qualify as a full time student, although apparently there’s something else I can be wot says I still qualify. Sorry. It’s just really exciting.

And that’s about me for the night, eh. My neck really hurts from that damn sitting too close to the movie thing. Maybe I should have a hot bath. I wonder if that’d help me sleep. It’s funny taking herbal supplements to make me sleep because they completely relax out my body so that it feels really heavy and sinks into the mattress and I can hardly move but my mind is still going a trillion miles an hour. I’m due for a bleed in a couple of days, and I’d know that even if wasn’t for the diane35 packet telling me. Midcycle I get mad protein cravings, and then I get sleepless and my breasts get fuller and look glassy and probably in two days time I will be really really sad and cry at the drop of the hat. It’s so interesting (to me anyways) watching myself change. Go womanhood. I bet you’re all just holding your breath until I get pregnant or some mysterious wasting disease and I write about that in great length every single day. Not that I’m thinking that any of you would wish disease on me, of course (because hey, everyone loves me, right?).

I thought of a new look for Hubris that I wanna do, but I have exams and secret things and charity work and momma’s site (still) to do first. But then maybe there’ll be a logo! And tshirts! And merchandise! And branding! Perhaps.