On my birthday last year I woke up in bed with a nice girl, and then Anji showed up and brought us coffee, we all went to brunch and then cleaned Karen’s apartment. The year before that, I was fucking relieved not to be having vagina surgery, and was possibly still really stoked to have been felt up by a boy who was one the best pashes evah the night before, we went to Cafe Istanbul for dinner and I saw the Real Hot Bitches for the first time ever. And I think that last link does a good job of summing up other years, but I will point out that on the day I turned 20 I dumped my boyfriend (ala, the ASSCUNT of twitter from the previous entry) because he wouldn’t make an effort to see me, and ten years ago, I had a really sucky 18th birthday in which people I cared about said nasty things about me because I drank and (shock horror!) smoked pot (one of those three people is now one of my best friends, one of them does far too many drugs now, and the other is in Australia) and it turns out that another one was sleeping with the guy I fancied at the time. Etc. So today’s not really being able to sleep until after 6am and all the voices in my head speaking in Scottish accents ala Anna from This Life, then workshops, dinner at Caffe Italiano and Quiz Night is really not that stand-out-y.

Has it become apparent to you via this post that birthdays are actually very important to me? I hope it has, because I’m living in a flat who fail to notice that,and it’s weird. Actually, this is the third birthday in a row tat I’ve had in which one of them will fail to pay it any attention. Oh, but, on a non-flatmate note, I haven’t had a birthday cake of my own on my actual birthday since I was 17 – until this year, when Anji and Bambi bought over a beautiful delicious cake for me with champagne bottle corks. I’ll put in photos at some stage. And also creepy video of karaoke. Karaoke was SO fucking awesome, it was such a good night, I love me some friends, and also Yvonne at Longxiang who dealt with me having 18 friends at dinner and that not even being close to all of them. I’m not always entirely sure why anyone likes me sometimes, but at dinner I totally got it and it was lovely.

Also random blah blah. Something about sex. Oh yes, the twitters on Saturday night. I’ll tell you, I am SO fucking horny right now. Like, there’s the usual depression thing of wanting to lose yourself under someone, having them thrust aside all thoughts in your brain even for a couple of minutes, the validation of having someone wrapped around you, and then there’s pre-period hormones, in which everything is a turn-on (see above quizmaster love from tonight, although of course that’s not a new thing because of course I fancy the rare people who appear to be smarter than I) and oh man oh man oh man sometimes all you can think about is getting a pounding.

Then there’s the decision that if 27 was the year of debauchery, which it hardly was, then maybe I wil make an attempt to make 28 year of health (starting tomorrow of course). Even my taxi driver tonight asked me if I suffered from Anxiety, which holy fuck yes I do. I should defend myself in saying that he asked because he had it, not because I appeared totally buttfuck crazy, honest. Anyways. Full circle. I hide in bed to avoid the world (read: flatmates going “oh, not at work today?) then hate onthe world (read: flatmates) for not doing anything for my birthday. Yes, that’s right, you can’t win with me at all, anyone. Haven’t I made that clear already? I should I suppose clarify here: I fucking miss Kat’n Kane, and Bopha and Brad, and Kateb and Clayton and Simon like, so much. I am deeply deeply nostalgic for flats of yesteryear when they were more than just a collection of individuals under one roof.

Except, you know, if you give me a good fucking right now. And that won’t happen because I am far too anxious. Joy! Yes, cycle, yes, I will get out of it. Man, I am looking forward to sleeping tonight.

Oh, and finally, have i mentioned lately that I think Sebastian is gay? There’s always bitemarks on the back of his neck. I wonder if the gay cat world has bears, because he is big and hairy. But he is also poised and handsome and constantly grooming. But the cats he talks to during the day look like twinks to me. I reckon that’s why he kept trying to do Sammy when we lived with Iva, even though Sammy was actually (sort of) female. Ahhh cat sex, that’s a good note to end on, right?

Before I get on with the usual recounting of everything, let me just announce Canadia at the Country Club, 5pm Saturday May 6 – don’t worry, it’s planned so that you can come to this and still go to the Phoenix Foundation gig. We’re going to eat pancakes and maple syrup and bacon (if you’re that way inclined) and fries with cheese, and Chocolate Mooooooooooooooousse, and listen to the Arcade Fire and other goodness, and learn facts about Canadia, and end all our sentences with ‘Eh’ and I might plan another few activities, and it’d be rad if you could come.

And now let me get on with Friday night, which saw me leaving work on the dot of five and declining to go out for a drink (holy fucking shit, I know) in favour of going home and doing a mountain of dishes and prepping for my Spanishy potato dish which I’m hereby going to call Papas Garbanzo. Prepping means a mountain of agria potatos cubed and boiled, and cans of chickpeas rinsed and drained, and numerous garlic cloves crushed and roughly chopped and placed in a bowl with diced red onions, and feta crumbled and paired with chopped parsley and a little basil, and spring onions cut into pretty little loops, and chorizo sausages defrosted, diced and fried till crispy and put into yet another bowl. After that there was just time to set the table and get changed before I had to go and pick up Jisa for wacky one-way driving adventures in Brooklyn trying to find Jimmy, and then to Mount Vic for Jessie and Jane. I threw open the invitation to everyone else with a J in my phonebook, but to little avail. Boo-urns. But that’s okay, because we sat in the glowing atmosphere, and drank good red wine, and not so good red wine, and stuffed our faces with the papas garbanzo, and the green beans almondine, and then coconut cream and apple cake with caramelised peaches and raspberry strawberry SORBET (which you must yell like “Ole!”) and Jessie told us rock’n roll stories and we annoyed her with a lot of usage of the phrase “like throwing a sausage down a hallway” and its many variations. It was a geniusly good time.

On Saturday my head hurt, but I had to get up early to gossip to Heather and confirm that it was indeed her who had been drunkenly texting me the night before. Then there were an awful lot of dishes to do. Nevertheless I did them, and napped, and made myself pretty in time to meet the divine KateH, or Popular Kate as you may remember her, for dinner at Arashi. It was so nice to go out just with her – we tried to think of when the last time we’d done that may have been, and the best we could come up with was like, July 2002. We followed that with a drink at Harem, which was wacky crazy cool and I wish we’d eaten dinner there cos the menu looked yum, but as it was, we had to knock our cocktails back quickly in order to make it to Dylan Moran on time. He was genius, wonderful, excellent, angry drunken belligerant hott Irishman. His onstage persona was much like Bernard Black, but a little more articulate. Hott. I laughed lots, and I also laughed a bit because my friends who saw the show in Auckland said that there were many curvy bookish type women in the audience there, and so it was in Wellington. Afterwards we went to Good Luck for a drink, and meant to go to Bodega for the A Low Hum, but the cocktails were just too good and we didn’t want to get up. Eventually though with KateB in tow we decided we wanted food and headed back to Harem which was shut, so we went to Tupelo instead, where stupid boys tired to impress us with their asses, drank from our wine bottle and tried to offend us with videos on a cellphone of a girl who ejaculated semen out of her very hemaroided bottom. It’s probably not the kind of thing you want to see every day, but if you’re introduced to it with the “this is so offensive, this is totally going to offend you” type introduction, there is no way in hell that you’re going to be offended. Except by the guy’s total stupidity. KateB disappeared, and Tupelo shut down, so KateH and I were forced to sit outside in the alleyway with KateB’s coat and bag for LITERALLY half an hour since KateB’s phone was in her bag, and we were not overly impressed by that.

On Sunday I slept in late, and then later I picked up KateH and she came over for dinner, and surprise surprise, she knew people that Bart’s mum knew. And we watched the Garland video, and looked at photos, and read the bible, and oh, how long ago Uni was and how young and full of hope we were all then.

And now Sebby has been missing for 24 hours, and I am worrrrrrrrrrrrrrieeeed. Today I had lunch with Amy and Andeee but they had friends and sisters there and so we didn’t really gossip, and I haven’t seen them since 2004, and it was strange. And no one is upstairs at work today, and I had to log on downstairs in the morning and the boy’s computer that I was using was sticky and eww. And blah blah. I hope Sebby comes home when I get home today after PAYING FOR MY FLIGHTS. Wahoo!

Come to Canadia. What’s that all about eh?

EDIT: He wasn’t there when I got home, even after I called and called him so I went to my room and bawled and bawled, and then I heard him mewling and he came in and I cuddled him and cried some more, and he was like “sheesh, what’s the big idea, it’s only been 30 hours but can I have some extra food please?”

Today I went to Rumba! It was hilarious, and also super choice because of the following reasons:

I got heat stroke today, which is pretty fucked for early spring. And when I say heatstroke, I mean a sun-induced headache that has withstood drinking lots of water, sponging myself off, naps, beer, nurofen and coffee. So that kinda sucks.

This morning I went to the chemist in Mt Eden to try and get a 3 month repeat on my Estelle35, but they noticed that the repeat expired on the 7th, and said I could have it but the government wouldn’t pay for it, which would have made it $25.95 instead of $3 (incidentally, the only good thing that Jenny Shipley EVER did was subsidise the pill), so I figured I may as well go back to the doctor for a subscription cos that’ll cost $20 but hopefully they’ll give me a 6 month script. The chemist was like “well, you had an extra month written in to the prescription in which to pick it up” but of course, I got a month’s free Diane35 (there is something SO insidious about drug companies giving away free pills) so I’d actually been on it for 4 months, hence why I missed picking it up on time. Because you care. So anyways, that annoyed me.

And then I went in to tech to do an interview, and it wasn’t all that fabulous, so I’m dubious, but hey, and I sat around til one waiting to see if I had another interview to do, but I didn’t, so I went home and decided to go shopping. Bo was like “oh, I’ll come with you and get some shoes” but I was like “nah, I’m just going to the ‘burbs” cos I was all grumpylike, and wanted some alone time. So I got a new top, which is the lowest cut top that I have ever owned. I’m pretty excited.

although I’m guessing at least 60% of my readers have seen everything anyway

And then since I was driving home through Greenlane (past Garland Road and I went “awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww”) I got to shop at Vege World as well, so that’s good cos their produce is much fresher and less smelly than Silverbell. Incidently, does anyone know a good cheap fresh vege place nearer the city?

This evening I put on my top to show Bo, and Clay came in the room and wasn’t really looking at me and was just talking away, and then he looked over and he was like “oh hello!” and kept perving for ages after that. I asked if it was too much, and he said no, so that’s cool. We all went out for coffee, and Bo made me drive down the evil street off City Road in neutral. It was fun. Then we decided to go to Mezze, so we could sit on their lovely lovely deck with the candles and faerie lights, even though we’d originally intended to go to Ponsonby. I like hanging out with my flatmates.

Back at home, Bo and I sat around untangling a big ball’o jewellery of mine that I’d fished out of my drawer tryign to find a suitably dangly necklace to go with this top. I started to watch Lolita, but 1. I didn’t like the book and 2. I fucking hate Kubrick movies, so I decided to go to bed instead. I’m still debating whether or not to wear this top to a PR function. According to Maz, they’re just big pervefests where Joseph lines up the pretty blonde girls to greet the lecherous fifty year old men he invites, but then again, this year might be different, since it’s being organised by students. Hmm. We’ll see.

On Saturday, I meant to leave by 9.30am, but instead I ended up getting up then, which meant I left at 10.30am, cos it took time to shower and gather up glam rocker clothes and accessories and my princess dress and bedding and bundle it all into the back of my car and fill up with bagels and petrol. But yes, I was on the way by 10.30am. It was a gorgeous lovely wonderful day, and I was all happy and smiley as I drove along. It only took like an hour and a quarter to get to Paeroa, home of Gil and too many people who listen to Sublime, apparently. So many small towns, so many memories of people who came from there. And there was Waihi, where Shirley took me to one day, so that was choice and I tried to spot her old house as I sped along, but I didn’t – I did pull off the road to text her though – I’m so glad that there are text links to the UK. My wrists got a little sore eventually from the driving, but it was all so sunny and nice, especially the island-like driving just outsidea Tauranga. And then as I was retuning my radio, I suddenly heard Brad’s voice, so I realised i must have found Bayrock and that Whakatane couldn’t be too far away, and it wasn’t. 3.5 hours easy driving – loverly.

So I met Brad’s (intellectually challenged) flatmates and giggled lots, and then he took me on a tour of the town. It actually took a lot longer than I thought it would, and he took me up over the hill to a lookout point where we Parked (i’m using the capital letter there cos we were both like at the same time “hey, we can go Park” although of course we didn’t actually make out or any monkey business like that – I may lick Anji’s belly from time to time but I’m not actually incestuous) and took photos of the pretty view, and then went down to Ohope Beach where he used to live. So that was all cool. Then we went to the completely authentic Whakatane experiances of The Warehouse for masks and Pak’n Slave for food (I got baked potato chips, and let me tell you, they were nice, but they just didn’t satisfy on a chip level – they were far more like crackers). After that, I kicked Brad’s ass at Monopoly without even cheating at all. I am a railway mongol. And then we watched the Olsen twins’ TV show to reminisce about the old Garland Full House days and made lots of savvy commentary.

Eventually after dinner (he’d offered to make me Rice Risotto with Mince, his signature dish, but i declined) we started drinking and got ready for the masquerade party which had provided the extra incentive for me to visit him. Brad wore old blue flares of Fatty Si’s, a brown shirt and my purple feather boa, and I did his makeup all fabulous, and I wore my princess dress and tiara and lots of glitter. His flatmate Asher and some carny friend of his came home and made me play 3Man with them, go the dice drinking games. They were a little suprised at what a filthy mouth I have. Eventually we set out in the mist to this party. Oh dear. All the lights were on in the house and the music was turned down really really low – and plus, it was like, hits from 1999, which would have been fine if the house had been filled with Garlandketeers, but it wasn’t – they were mostly old people, and no one was dressed up. Oh well. We ended up sitting in the kitchen playing 3Man again with a larger group of people. That’s okay though, cos all I wanted to do was get to dress up and see Brad, and I achieved both of those things fabulously. I guess eventually we ended up walking home, but I don’t remember that, and we got changed and went to town. Brad bought me a KGB in keeping with local traditions (ewwww) and we danced like dicks in a bad bar called The Boilerroom cos the rest of town was completely deserted. Eventually the music was just too hideous to put up with any longer so we went and sat in a taxi office for what seemed like hours to get a taxi home. We listened to more music and sent off random texts and watched m2 for a while and I (apparently) told his flatmate in great detail just why Linkin Park are so crap, and then I fell asleep pretty much as soon as I had the couch open.

Brad had to work from 10-2, so I woke up before then, feeling more than a little seedy but fighting it. He left for work and after I’d had a shower and stuff, I managed to extract my car and set off for town. After driving around a little and checking out what times the movies were playing, I decided it was far too nice a day to sit inside crying at people chasing fences, so I went to Ohope Beach again instead, and sat outside in the cold sunny wind reading the paper, fightign the urge to throw up. Eventually I got too cold, so I went and found a suprisingly good coffee and some bad food and sat in that cafe for like an hour and a half reading magazines, getting rude comments from the couple sitting behind me who said to themselves that “you could read magazines at home” but it’s not like there was a shortage of tables or anything, and besides, they ordered Steinlager, so what would they know about anything? Damn carnys.

Finally it was almost 2, so I went to the radiostation to meet Brad and he gave me a tour around it. After that, he was hungry so we went to a cafe called ‘Friends’, and yes, it’s painted the same colour as Monica’s apartment and is hung with posters of the cast. It was scary. But there was a cool purple corduroy couch and they made really good smoothies that made me feel a lot better. And then we went and rented movies. Here’s a tip – if you would like to see Angelina Joile’s breasts, you certainly do get to see a lot of them in “Original Sin” but that’s pretty much within the first 15 minutes, adn you should TURN OFF THE TELEVISION after the long extended softporn scene (complete with softporn music). I want the two hours of my life that I wasted on that movie back please. And then we went and had dinner in an Indian restaurant overlooking the harbour, and it was all 1960s decor (we might have our wedding reception there) and we were the only people in it and it was just carny carny carny. And then I had to drive home. I hate driving in the dark, I must remember to remember that.

And now my back and shouldersa re SO sore from all that driving and I’m tired, and we had Nicky Hager come talk to us today but I don’t feel like deconstructing him right now, so I won’t, but if anyone has suggestions about what I should get Clay for his birthday, do email me.

In which Joanna tries to right all the wrongs in the world

So, this afternoon, Bops and I went to Newmarket. We were looking for a Sony/Aiwa/Pioneer microsystem under $400 with a cd player, cassette and RCA ports looking good for me, and a computer under $2000 for her. I found a Phillips one which the guy in Bond&Bond woulda dropped to $420 for me, so I figured the guy in Noel Lemming since they’re owned by the same company woulda done for me on an Aiwa woulda done for me for the same price, but it was kinda mintgreen tinged, so I’m not sure if I liked it. But we did find Bops a computer for $1700, and managed to talk the shop guy into being able to put less than a 20% deposit on it. I scrapped up $170 outta my account and she had $60 cash. We felt like we was scrounging for coins under the sofa. T has agreed to set us up a network, so I’mma do my best to not piss him off til he’s done that. Hi T, don’t get shirty with me for writign this. Lately I have been having mad flashbacks about all sorts of things, and I have this image of you in my head of you jumping on my bed and hitting your head on my dusty chandelier. That’s all.

Oh, okay, so where were we? Okay, KateH on the phone at 7.40pm, saying let’s meet soemwhere BYO at 8pm, and so we go through the yellow pages togehter and agree to meet at Sri Panang on K’Road so I don’t have to walk down the hill, but once I’ve finally got my shit together, i finally realise I’m on the wrong side’o the road, and when she calls I dunno where she is, so we decide to meet at Saigon instead. So yeah, super yummy Vietnamese for dinner, and then we go home for Martinis. Emma showed up with some crazyass friends, so that was amusing for a while, especially cos she called me really fucking beautiful and you know I pretty much fall for anyone that calls me beautiful – or maybe that’ sjust everyone I’ve fallen for has also called me beautiful.<!– cos you know I always thought Emma was HOT –> Chicken -> egg -> chicken etc. Katie read my list’o memories from Garland (or from the bathroom, laundry, hallway and kitchen, cos that’s only as far as I’ve ever got with those lists) while I got changed and reapplied makeup. She was impressed that I had “There’s a glass of water out here for you Jo” as a memory, cos that’s what she remembered from the bathroom too. That’s all I wrote down, cos what else can you say about a month of throwing up constantly and stressing out all the people that you care about? Especially since she was just “Justin’s Girlfriend” then (sweetei I love you and I don’t even need to say how much more you are now).

Anyways, where was I before I started talking about things that let’s so not go there right now. Oh yeah, Martinis at home, then we went to a party of her friends’, who are also my friends at tech who apparently actually really like me, so I’m so not a Grand Dick, and that’s yay. They were just down Symonds Street, and their party was on the roof of their building. I spent most of the time talking to the editor of Craccum from 2000, and we had astonishingly similar taste in music, and laughed about teh same things, and he was so cool and I was really surprised that apparently he wasn’t gay. It was choice to see where Kelly and Rowena lived as well. And then, we went to a party at Khuja, which was in the private back room so that was excellent, and I had long indepth conversations with assorted people, mostly to accomodate Katie chatting up boys. The boy I was talking to was talking close and whispering in my ear, and I had to whisper in his since the music was really loud, and I was mocking his partial English accent, and I dunno, I just had a real urge to kiss him behind his ears, and the last boy that I felt that for ended up kissing me, but this boy didn’t cos we left to go do sonmethoing else. What did we do? it’/s hard to remember. Drinks at The Supper Club maybe? And then Oporto, and I rang Justin to see where he was at, and he was like “hey, if you wanna hang out, you should call me before 2.46am” which made me laugh lots cos I ahd no idea what the time was cos Katie had had my cellie in her bag all night.

Then we talked about it, as we had been talking about it all night, and had had a big debate before we went into Oporto, but we went into Starks to have a very loud discussion in front of this FUCKING DICK who has done bad things to someone cool and you so don’t do that on our watch without us having to say something, and yeah, so loud obnoxious indignant conversation til we got the “You ladies would be more comfortable in the Civic Lounge” line, and fuck Katie, when i started this evening, I had $75 in my pocket, and now I have $6 for laundry and like $4 in scrapnel. What DID we get up to? Love you SO much baby xojo.

Last night I finally managed to get out of bed and run away from my house that’s annoying me (HMG had her cousin come over, then went out, leaving her cousin just here with Clayton – grrr!) to KateH’s. We debated whether to watch ‘Casablanca’ or ‘Empire Records’ but the trash won, because really, who wants to be thinking?

But I have done some thinking and now I have a list that’s four names long of people that I need to sort out my feelings for. Nothing like spreading the load! (and to you folks counting on your fingers – don’t).

Today I woke up around one and stayed in bed for half an hour, plowing through “Possesion; a Romance” some more. I’m not entirely sure I like it, circumstances aside, it really doesn’t move me. But then I got out of bed to a phone message from KateH telling me to go over there again for Dawson’s, and so of course I did. I think I’m liking this new series, although it’s not like the old days when everyone would come over for Dinner&Dawsons before our Friday Nights began. Ahh nostalgia. Anyways, where was I? Describing the rest of my boring day, I believe. Right. So KateH had to go grocery shopping after that (and txted me to say that she saw KellyHJT buying brocoli, and that made me laugh because it’s cool that i have that kinda friend who knows that trivia like that is great). I borrowed her Moulin Rouge video, went to Mercury for pad thai (she accused me of being afraid to go back since the lady didn’t recognise me last time) and settled down at home for a nice lax-out afternoon.

I was just near the end of Moulin Rouge when Clay’s friend BradC turned up, so I turned it off right after Christian and Satine said they loved each other, and so hey presto, happy ending! BradC had just dropped by “because he was in the neighbourhood” but I suspect he’s doing an early KateM, who always used to come over “to see BradM” whenever he was going out so she’d end up hanging out iwth me instead, cos Clay was on his way out to dinner and shook his head at leaving BradC with me. But I made him cups of tea, we abused one another (read: flirted (just for a change)) and watched Mexico-Ecuador. I picked Mexico 2-1, and of course I was right. I’m so clever and witty. My god, the Ecuadorian coach was funny; so Australian Westie Trash. Eeek, I swear, I’m not one of those clever sports people, really. Perish the thought.

Anyways, I have exams coming up in eleven days time, and I need to get my wrists into shape by then, because there’s no way I can sit exams with my right hand paining me as much as it does now, so I’m gonna try and cut my usage of computer back to one hour a day, as well as doing other constructive & useful things like the exercises the physio taught me (and if anyone wants to give me a wrist massage, I will be wellhappy to accept it). To that end, I’m gonna wrap this up and go and read or something. Ciao!.

In the evening, I went to see my lover again. I took my parents to meet him. I’m not entirely sure how happy they are that I’m running off with a bandit, but I guess they’ll get used to it. MMMmmmmmmmmm Lo. Neil told me that the characters for his name, Chang Chen, mean something like “massive earthquakes” which is so so appropriate, because goddam just one smouldering look is enough to make my earth move. You know I’m talking about “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon” don’t you? It was funny, cos going in, I saw Jen Troup who’d come out of the previous session and said it was wonderful, Sam Benton was in the same session as us, and then Paul & Robyn were going to the session afterwards. So everyone’s going, and so they should too. Just as long as they keep their hands off my Lo. I’m going to go see it in Auckland with Brad again – I don’t think I’ve ever seen a movie three times at the movie theatres before. But it was even better second time around, when I could see just how complex the relationships were. Okay, so I’m a little obsessed right now. Well, more than a little.

My parents are going away tomorrow for New Years, which is good because they’re driving me mad, as I think I may have mentioned before. So, party at Joanna’s house in Wellington. Well, I can party by myself or something.

Andeee stood me up for our IRC date tonight, but that’s okay, because she wrote me an email beforehand explaining all the reasons why she might not show.

I’m SO looking forward to seeing my flatmates again. We’re organising the Garland Roadshow. Get it? We plan on pinning drawings to one wlal of the tent to be the Flat Art Wall, and stuff like that, spreading our special brand’o loving around the countryside. I’ve been texting Brad today with trivial discoveries, such as the origin of the word “Drongo” (a 1920s racehorse who was so bad its name became a putdown) and the fact that a group of bears is called “A Sleuth of Bears”. Hehehehehe. This prompted Brad to text me back saying he’d had an idea for a brilliant TV show – a group of bears go around solving crime. Now how cool would that be? Course, if I’m moving out to the Gobi Desert to live in Lo’s cave, I won’t get to see much more tv, but I figure the payoff is worth it.

I had dinner with my parents tonight at Little India, because I’d previously said I could murder a curry, although I changed my mind to craving Chinese. We sat by the door in a very nasty draught and hte place was waaaaay too loud – too echoey. The food was pretty average – I wouldn’t recommend it. I would recommend ‘Crouching Tiger’ though – have I mentioned that before? Especially the desert flashback bit. It makes me laugh, it makes me cry. I sit on the edge of my seat, I wet my panties, I lust and I long.

Helen rang me while I was in the movie (cellie switched off) to say hi as she was passing through welly on her way to The Gathering. Lucky thing. But still, we’re going ot have lots and lots of fun in Taupo. I got this email from Brad:

Joanna,

I really want to go and see that ‘Crouching Tiger, Hidden Tiger’ film it’s got two five star reviews in the paper.

Why don’t you invite the barbarian to Taupo? Actually on second thoughts, i’ve heard some bad things about barbarians. Word on the street is that Genghis Khan wasn’t the greatest lover – maybe you should be careful. On the other hand, if you happen to meet a pirate invite him to Taupo by all means.

Brad.

Okay, so that’s not so completely related to Taupo, but i fucked up my in/out index page, so I had to put that email in here. I’m a bit scared htat I’ll be bleeding in Taupo, which won’t be much fun in a tent (not that it’s ever much fun). I’m insomnical and having madass dreams which are always signs that it’s due soon. Still, I shouldn’t complain, should I?

The bump on my neck is still there, and it hurts a little if you press it. I think I’m growing another spine.

So, what have I been up to this past week or so? Well since I wasn’t able to access Hubris, I wrote this and this on Swinney.org. I like places that let you in without a dress code. I’ve also worked damn hard suprisingly this week. I joined the Freemasons. But you read that on Swinney. I got my first ever four digit pay cheque, yay me. Of course, most of that will go to Entertainz and my car insurance and water bills and phone bills and my parents and paying off my bank overdraft, but still, I’m super excited.

We still haven’t found a place to stay in Taupo yet, and still I’m constantly inviting more friends to come along. I think we’re up to a group of 10 probably. We wanted to stay with Jarrod, but it seems too many people are coming up from Welly to stay with him already. Saint Pats boys!!!! Muhahahah.

I’m currently trading emails with one of the guys that I rang off Penny’s cellphone last friday whilst very drunk and making random calls. Apparently i told him we were meant to be together, based on his last name, which I remember, and I advised him never to get married, which i don’t remember. You can say a lot in voicemail, I guess. I got the photos from that night back, but I might scan them in welly, cos I can’t be assed doing it right now. I’ve done too much graphical stuff already. We’re making tapes for Friends of Garland as Xmas pressies, and I was responsible for the exceedingly stylish cover design. I’m also the one dubbing the tapes at high speed (I need a cd burner) and singing along at matching high speeds. It’s very scary, I tell you. Alvin Simon Theodore. Do do do do do do. Where’s the xentertainment article on THEM eh?

We had Garland Xmas Dinner tonight, although Jeremy’s already in Dunedin. I made fettucine with Chicken, sundried tomato, olives, walnuts and a blue brie and white wine sauce. It was yuuuuummy. For dessert we had toffee ice cream, strawberries and chocolate vodka. I haven’t had chocolate vodka in waaay too long, but as Bradley brought me back a bottle of Absolut from Australia, it was possible, bless him. I love my flatmates so so much, I almost shed a tear after dinner when we were exchanging Xmas gifts. They’re my best friends and my lifeblood. Plus they gave me a Bear Mask for xmas! And some noodle bowls. Clay and I got Brad an excellent book on Bears, and I got Clay an under $15 Wine Guide. Brad got Clay a pokemon watch.

There’s just something very very wrong about a guy giving his girlfriend flavoured condoms for Xmas – i mean why not just give her a tool kit or a bowling ball and be done with it? Really, who’s going to gain the maximum benefit out of that gift after all?

The other day – well, Wednesday to be exact, after work and a cold shower for me (long hot sweaty drive home) Brad and I went up to investigate our new Local, which used to be a restaurant called Forte, and before that a restaurant called Amadeus. It still has an odd man standing outside it, but it’s now a pub called “The Horse and Jockey” which is appropriate given its proximety to the Ellerslie Race Course. I bought him a pint. He bought me a pint. It was still too hot to bother walking home so I bullied him into a third (“what do you have to get up for tomorrow? what do you have to do with your life anyways?”) and after that the fourth one came easy. When we finally made it home (it’s my New Years Resolution to become a Regular, and recognize other patrons and make jokes with the staff in some establishment, so it may as well be that one) we watched “Young Americans” which I’d taped last week and saved to watch with Brad when he got back from Australia. It’s a Dawson’s tie-in because one of the main characters was Pacey’s friend in two episodes, but it’s by no means at the same level. I know it took me a while to get fully into Dawsons, but this show’s apparently only got eight episodes made. Ahh well.

On Sunday night I went to Helen’s house for dinner. I am at one with the shore. There was petanque and badminton on the lawn. It was very choice even though I got eaten alive by mosquitos. I talked to PR girls who were all seemingly jealous that I have a PR job now despite doing Multimedia. I like my job, even though I occasionally have too much free time on my hands and my dad doesn’t always email me back when I want him too.

I applied for another job the other day (remember I’m only on a short project contract) but I was talking to the woman at the recruitment agency after I sent in my CV, and she basically said that I was too good for the job and would end up being bored silly. Nice. But she’s putting me on the books incase anything better comes up. I was talking to Lola this morning, because there was a bad article published in one of the local papers that was related to what we are doing, and she said we might have to change course with our project. I asked if I’d still have a job then, and she pointed out that I’m contracted until the 28th of February, and they’d have to find something for me to do. Yay, I’ve loved it so far. I mean how many other girls get to go into Freemason temples? And the whole car access is choice. I admit, I kinda semi plan my meetings to fall between 10-11am cos that’s my favourite hour on the radio. But I have the freedom to do that. Edina and Lola both think I’m doing really good work, so wahoo.

But i have two weeks holiday now so hopefulyl I won’t talk about work too much. There was a semi xmas party this morning. Well, the Communications Department, which I am a part of although I physically work in another area, and am involved only in communications for that other area, had breakfast out today, but I got to work too late, and Lola was already gone by the time I got there, and although I knew where they were, I felt too dumb to go along. And then the division I’m in had drinks after 11am. Of course, because I’d missed out on breakfast, I had a couple of sips of bubbly and felt all funny, so I had to leave (despite how unfascinating the people in my workspace are!) and eat something at a nearby cafe.

I really am rambling now eh. You know, I wasn’t too distraught when I couldn’t get into Hubris. I wasn’t even that distraught when I couldn’t get into Email.com. I guess it’s all a matter of priorities. But don’t worry – there’s no way I’m giving up this web site. No indeed!

Don’t forget in/out for like, other info.

xoxo

Me (in bear mask)”roaaaaar!” Kara: “eeek!” Me:”Sorry, I didn’t mean to score you. I mean, scare you”

Sparing you all the details, we drank and laughed a lot. Penny and I reminisced a great deal. We gossiped. We danced on the front terrace. I rang Kini&Olivia and was terribly hurt that neither of them want to live with me. We took a series of dumbass photos which you can view here. We rang random people from Penny’s cellphone list that she wasn’t sure she knew, and had very amusing conversations. One guy had just been fined $13,000 for reckless driving. Jeremy gave us random numbers to call too, and then his friend kept calling him back. I bit Penny but didn’t leave any bruise marks, to our deepest regret. Around 2am we decided we’d go be larrikans out in the streets. I refused to go the park around the corner, so we walked up to Shell instead, then walked back playing Pringle Soccer. I had my camera so we took a succession of fantastic supermodel pose shots. We poll danced. Jeremy climbed a tree. I found myself unable to balance walk along a wall without holding onto Penny on one side, which made me mad cos I was really really good at the Beam in Primary school. Penny jumped into a bush which looked like fun, so I did the same, except it wasn’t all boingy like I was thinking it would be, in fact it was sharp and ouchy and I have deep gashes from it.

Today I woke up to say bye bye to Penny (also cos her phone with a goddam novelty ring kept going off in my room) but then went back to sleep, which is always fun to do cos the heat makes me have dirty dreams. I got up much much later then, and spent an hour reading the herald and stuff. My saturdays are so so cruisy. In the evening we did a tremendously huge heap’o dishes and cleaned up the kitchen proper, which was good. I did laundry. Stuff like that. At night, Jeremy and I were watching “Fast Times at Ridgemont High” (I LOVE TV3 for deciding to screen 80s teen flicks every Saturday) but Kara kept ringing for Clay who’d gone to bed with an infected foot. She was going to bus over, but I told her I’d go pick her up from work, cos she’s much too nice to take a bus home at 11.30 at night. It’s just as well I did pick her up actually, cos there were literally hundreds of people waiting for buses in Newmarket cos of Christmas in the Park. Ick. “Order! Order!”

That’s me in my pirate hat. Actually it became like, cooler than a pirate’s hat, but it was a pirate’s hat in the first place. Brad and I were sitting in the lounge bored, so we decided to make hats. I made a matching fan. He made a sword. Then we decided Jeremy should play too, so we made him a hat and a parrot (which looked suprisingly like a Japanese Crane) and went and knocked on his bedroom door. We handed him the hat, and he was like “where are we going?” We like that in a flatmate! So we went to ye old town’o food.

Work today was actually very cool. I sent out my first professional email – admittedly not using my own login yet. I don’t have my own login yet, or my own swipe card, but I should have by tomorrow. Hopefully. What I did have, however, was a huge ass bubble blister from my new shoes and from pursuing information all over the Puna, but I deflated it. Where oh where does all that liquid come from? But yeah anyways, I did enjoy work a lot, except it’s quite challenging. Which yes, is a good thing, but I had to think! And think! And I feel kinda like I wanna have every single thing I do checked over, but I can’t, cos how unproffesional would that be? Apparently Trevor, who was also in my project team and my broadcasting team is working in the same place that I am though, so I must email him and maybe have lunch with him or something like that. Stoked that we both got jobs out of it!

Arrrrrrrrr! Arrrrrrrrr! I was all tired before and falling asleep while Shirley was over, but pretending to be a pirate invigorated me. I have a notepad with lists in it now. I like it. I have lists of work tasks, lists of questions I need to ask at work, lists of stuff I need to buy and bills I need to pay. It’s funny, cos I was doing all this stuff on the computer, and I felt fine until my boss lady #1, whom I shall call umm well I can’t think of a witty name right now, handed me a page on RSI stuff and readjusted my chair and keyboard level so that I’d be “right”.

“Subject to the provisions of the * Information and Meetings Act 1987, all transactions, records and information pertaining to the business of * shall be held in strict confidence by you both during the period of employment and also after its termination”

Shirley arrived while I was still getting dressed, so I was able to tell her that I wasn’t decent without running myself down too much. Helen came along too, and demanded that I take her photo:

The turkey took about three hours or more, which meant that everyone had assembled (I think we had 15 people) and were well into their assorted wines by the time it was ready. Just before I brought it out of the oven and carved, I got everyone to assemble around the dining room table and say what they were thankful for. Sure, I ripped the idea straight out of a Dawson’s episode, but the whole idea for having Thanksigiving Dinner was from Dawson’s too, so it was very appropriate. It was actually really touching. Some people went serious, some went funny. I said I was thankful for all the people assembled, because I loved them so much, and they made my life, and they were all so much more special to me than they could ever know, and it’s true. So there.

Yes anyways, sappiness aside, I’m so so stoked, cos my turkey turned out juicy and luscious and scrummy, even though I’d never cooked one before. Unfortunately, the small ‘Turkey Roast’ we bought to accompany it was icky – can we say “sausage”, boys and girls? Don’t ever buy one! But the actual bird roast was good – so well cooked that the meat slid off the bones. Yay me. I’m so so proud. I mean, Mum’s never even cooked turkey. Anyways, enough boasting.

So everyone got all sleepy after lunch, and no wonder, cos of the heat and the alcohol and all the food. We had four couches and a bed in our lounge, and there were people stretched out on all of them, entwined with whoever else was sharing their seat. It was kinda touching. After dessert, I took an eiderdown out to the lawn and lay out there with Helen and Shirley and Jeremy, eating Rum Spiders (you know – coke and icecream) and giggling my head off. “I have a grass problem”.

Eventually, Kate M drove me on a Beer and Chuppies mission. Previous days had taught us that there was no Summer Ale at either Woolworths 277 or Foodtown, so we went to the Winemasters shop. It was very cold in the Chiller with bare feet. I hadn’t brought my wallet with me, since I’d just fished $30 out of the Booty Tin (we asked everyone to pay $5 for lunch to cover some costs) so I had no ID, and Morrison didn’t have her driver’s licence on her either, just tech ID and old licence. The lady let us have the beer, but warned us that they were cracking down and we should always carry our id. That place is always strict, how rude! When we got back to the house, we found everyone playing cricket in our newly cleaned carport. How industrious!

Everyone was all dozey until around 6.30pm, just snacking and drinking some more, and then Miss World came on. Boy did we ever tear strips off all the contestants! Oh lordy, did I just say “tear strips off” ? Did I just say “Oh lordy” ? Super! Anyways, around then, Renee asked where the nearest Accident and Emergency Clinic was, as she was having an allergic reaction to something, which seemed kinda scary, so i went with her and we got Nigel to drive us to the Ascot Hospital. Dead posh! We waited for ages, and Renee just seemed to get sicker and sicker, so eventually Nige and I went to the counter and said “look, our friend is having kind of a really bad allergic reaction” and since she was streched out lying down on the seats and was bright red from sunburn anyways, they rushed her off to a doctor, and I went in with her (sure, I’ve only ever met her at parties basically when I’ve been very drunk, but Jeremy was in no state to go to the hospital with her, and I figure it’s good of me to bond with flatmates’ girlfriends. To say nothing of the fact that I was kinda scared and like to help out in an emergency). Anyways, the doctor gave her some antibiotics and sent us off back home. She felt better after some panadol and a sleep.

I missed a significant part of Miss World, plus I’d accidently found out who’d won anyways, so that ruined a bit of the night, but ahh well. Jodie and Helen both left after Miss World, as did Nige and Andy. But Maree showed up then, which was sweet as bro. We played Bluffinitions. It was very amusing. I won. All those words we’d never heard of before!

I had a headache, so I’m going to manipoo now.

“Actually I quite like Waikato Draught” – Helen

Last night, I was online and feeling I dunno – bored and just a little down, when I got into an ICQ chat with Cam and Jeb. Mmmmm threesome with two gay men! It was very very amusing. Jeb wrote a derogatory haiku about me, so I responded in kind with a haiku explaining why I wasn’t what he was saying that I was. I pasted the haikus to Tom, and before you know it, we were talking to each other completely in Haiku, which were so amusing, I made a whole page about them. Jeb and Cam were very funny, but we fought about what tasted worse – girls or boys. Actually no, it wasn’t funny at all, it was all very sick and sordid and disgusting. So there! Heh. I was laughing so hard I was almost afraid that my flatmates would hear and get the wrong idea.

Today I woke up with a headache, which I’ve had for a number of days and I suspect it’s because I hadn’t had any coke for ages. Dammit, I don’t wanna be a caffiene addict! I was good and defrosted the freezer, making boys squeal when I dropped large chunks of ice out the kitchen window onto them on the patio sofa. I also did some tidying and stuff. Good me. But naturally I didn’t tidy my room. I tried and tried and tried to read through my paperwork and reports and stuff, but I just kept falling asleep. Jeremy said he’d charge me $18 an hour for him to read and brief me on all their contents, which I thought was a little moneygrubbing of him.

In the evening, Jeremy went out to some comedy thing with Renee, and lord knows where Clayton is (it’s 2.23am and he’s still not home, that rascal!) so Brad and I went to the supermarket. There’s a 4 kilo turkey defrosting in our fridge right now and also an 850gram boneless turkey roast in the freezer. I’m very excited. We also got cranberry sauce and all that good stuff. Oh man, I’ve become a fricking nutter (well, more so than usual) because we’re obsessed with one line from the Simpsons, when Homer goes “saxamaphone” so every other word that has at least 2 syllamabuls has now got a ‘ma’ or a ‘mo’ added in to it or a ‘mahol’. It’s driving me mad, and I’m the one who’s saying it the most – I can only imagine how annoying it must be for the people around me. After the supermarket, Brad and I went to Ponsonmaby to the Dog cos it was supposed to be Kate B’s last night at work, to have drinks with her. We didn’t stay all that long though, but Kate was very glad to see us.

We got home and Clay still wasn’t home, and we couldn’t find the tape with Miss Teen America that we videoed on it, so we watched Spiceworld. Again. Fuck, Richard E. Grant gets cooler and sexier every time I watch that movie (so now he’s 21 times sexier than previously). I declared myself to be the special commentary on the DVD, and launched into many tangents about foreshadowing and humour on many levels in the film. You really should watch Spiceworld with me one day. It’ll enrich your life, believe you me. Actually, all media consumption in this house is an interactive experiance. That’s because we’re so savvy.

“call Gary Barlow!”

Today there were chainsaws and sunshine and landlady’s sister, and as a consequence, there’s no nasty tree outside my window. Hurrah for that! And Brad mowed the lawn, which inspired me to do the lawns, and clean out the drain in the bathroom (some bitch sheds her long brown hair all over the place!) and put out about 12 bags of newspapers for the paperchase. House cleaning is good. Kate B ran off with my car for a couple’o hours cos it has a tow bar and hers doesn’t to put her stuff in storage. Jeremy hasn’t moved his stuff out of the lounge yet though.

Jeremy was watching The Muppets Celebrate Jim Henson this afternoon, and I got teary. I conceed that I’m a headcase, yes. But Jim Henson DIED, okay? Have you ever seen muppets crying? It’s not a happy sight, I tell you! I made vegetable soup, and it was really nice.

Brad’s got part time work at More FM. Clay’s working at a media monitering place. We’re so Savvy. Of course, I have a PR job instead of a multimedia job, and that’s just fine with me. Clay rang on the way home today and asked if I wanted anything, so i said “summer ale”. We moved the lightest couch onto the deck out the front of the house, which we foolishly have neglected until today when the bushes had all been trimmed back and sat out there. I was hoping to do some dancing, but then Jan – Clay’s friend that we don’t like – showed up and her and Clay went off to get dvds and stuff from the supermomarket. I rang our friends and made sure they were invited to Thanksgiving Lunch. Hayley got all confused, cos I’ve never talked to her on the phone before, and straight away I was like “Hi, this is Joanna McLeod from Garland here; I’m just ringing to confirm your reservation for Sunday”. Well, I thought I was pretty funny anyways. Godboy Peter can’t come (we have a $500 that he’ll ADMIT to being Christian again before 2005) but pretty much everyone else is. I was stoked that Helen can make it. She sent me email yesterday that said “THis is so freaky deaky, trippy dippy. I just came into your website to try and find your email details, and there you leave me my own personal details to get in touch. ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh, how lovely. I’ve always wanted to be the person who gets their own message. ” which made me giggle for ages. And Andee sent me email today too so it’s been a good day, emailwise. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to email me anyways! I like email from people called Ernest.

I hope it’s as sunny tomorrow as it was today – I want to do lots and lots of washing and stuff. I’m trying to tidy the house and my room before I start work next week. I was going to clean my room today, but then I somehow got sidetracked into talking to Olivia about rockstars. Well, no ‘somehow’ about it – I talked to Olivia because she’s the bee’s knees. Jeremy mentioned later something about our dumbass oven and how it dropped open on him at a part one time, and I was like “do you feel kind of like you’ve always watched these pop stars on telly and now you’re meeting them finally? I mean, you always used to come to parties here, and now you live here”. He just laughed at me. I guess that’s the appropriate response. I laugh at me. Time goes by so fast.

“am I famous for just one thing?”

Half the crew disappeared off to town, taking Andy with them, but me Clay Brad and Kate M weren’t sure if we wanted to go, so we decided to meet up at the Dog, cos Kate B was supposed to be working. Brad got in Kate M’s car, and I took Clay and Pete. Half way home, Clay called Kara @Garland, and there was a little domestic or something, so I had to take him home. We tried to call Brad or Kate M to let them know, and to see if they’d follow us to Garland so we could leave my car and all go with Kate M to Ponsonby. But noooo, of course neither of them had their cellies with them, so it turned into a mad game of chase, with me yelling at them although they couldn’t hear me, because the boys didn’t roll down their windows. You know how you’re not supposed to drive drunk (and I don’t)? Well, I think you shouldn’t be allowed to drive on that much sugar either. It was lots and lots and lots of fun though! We finally managed to make them follow us and not take the Newton off-ramp, but then just as they rolled down their windows to hear us yell we were going to Garland, they were on the Grafton offramp and we were on Manukau/Hamilton. People with cellularmaphones that don’t turn them on are dumb!

But anyways, we got home and I changed my shoes and Brad rang us from Kate M’s. Pete and I decided to drive to her dad’s house and leave my car there, and walk to the Dog. So that’s just what we did, stopping for Red Bull. By the time we got to her house, Kate M had fallen asleep, so only Brad came out with us. By the time we got to the Dog, it was past 1am, and the place was closed. We could see Kate sitting with the staff at the bar, but they pretended they didn’t see us banging on the windows. So we had to move on, and found ourselves at Grand Central. The front bit was full of Old Slappers dancing to dumb music, but we managed to snag ourselves a room all to ourselves; sofas around a fireplace with a chandelier above – a super cosy living room. We had a bottle of wine and texted Hayley, to find out that everyone was at Deschlers. Bottle finished, and we set out to walk to Deschlers.

It’s a long walk from Ponsonby to town! Well, maybe not THAT long, but 20 minutes or so, which is long when it’s cold and you’re already tired from dancing and haven’t drunk that much. But I shouldn’t whine, cos it was actually kinda fun. At Deschlers, everyone was already squozen (see, that word sounds so good when you say it, but you can’t write it down) into booths so we pulled up seats at the counter and had more drinks….

Bah, I’m bored of telling that story already. Maybe I’ll finish it tomorrow. Or maybe not. I got my hair cut today, and it looks cool. Since I got it done somewhere I’d had it done before, they had a file on me, and I saw that the last time I had a haircut there it was April 5th, so I looked back in my journal to see what my trauma’o the day then was. I only ever get haircuts when I’m excited or when I’m sad. Oh, I had a haircut in Melbourne actually, but that was in the kitchen of Anji’s flat, and it was done by her friend Ang. Incidently, you know the Libra ad for Charlies Angels that’s in a bright pink hair salon? That’s where Anji’s old flatmate works. He wanted me to get a mullet, because apparently they’re back, but I resisted. But that was all a tangent, because the woman today just cut my hair how I wanted it, whilst going on about how tall I was. However, I forgive her for that because she gave my head a massage while washing my hair, and I just about purred. I’ve decided I don’t want a boyfriend anymore – I want a hairdresser. Does it make them whores that I pay them money for the physical pleasure they give me?

Kate B came home at lunchtime today and said “oh you’re having a champange lunch” and me and Shirley and Jeremy said “yes”, and I waited for her to ask why, but she didn’t. That amused me.

Tonight Maree lured us around by making us cookies and promising to rent us a video – a NEW RELEASE even. We watched “Drop Dead Gorgeous” which was very very funny, but went on a little too long. She woke me up AGAIN at 7am this morning when she came in wearing her pajamas. I begged her not to do that last night and all! I should really go lock the dead bolt, but I need her to wake me up tomorrow morning. We’re going to have coffee before she goes to be a Teacher’s Helper at her kid’s school, and I go off to work.

Oh yes, I got a job. WAHOO! I’m not actually starting tomorrow, because by law I need 7 days to review my contract, but I am going in tomorrow to meet the staff, and to get my contract and get some background readings. I’m so stoked that I didn’t even need to interview for the job, because I met the big boss at the Expo and he was more than happy for me to come work for them, and I’d already been recomended for the position. So, a week after tech finally ended, I already have a full time job. It’s only contracted til February, but still, it’s experiance… and money. Yay! I’m very very nervous though.

“am I famous for just one thing?”

Oh, just before I go any further, Helen Urban – email me!. I have no contact details for you, girl. Ta.

Today I eventually got my shit together and went into tech to burn a copy of my cd rom, and put my other stuff together, but the goddam fucking lab was being rehauled so I couldn’t. I went to another lab to print out my cv, but of course in that lab, the printer was un-networked. Grrrrr! Very annoying. So I went home, then went to the bank to pay rent, and did the vege shopping instead. Vegtamables.

Later in the evening, Brad and I went over to Maree’s to watch “3rd Watch” because she’s being The Nanny Named Fran again, and couldn’t leave the kids. Brad went back home afterwards to eat dinner, so Maree and I sat around her kitchen table drinking tea and feeling like terribly old adults, me reading Christian magazines while she talked to James on the telephone. The rest of Garland came back with Brad – well, Jeremy Clayton and Kara anyways, and we played Postits. Clayton was Dirk Diggler, and we all guffawed mightily when he asked if he was known for just one thing. It felt strange to have the whole posse there, but to not actually be @Garland.

Kate B officially moves her stuff out on Thursday. Yesterday it was a year since Simon told me he was moving out, thus setting in place a chain of events that has been….interesting… to say the least. Well. I’ve been doing pass-throughs of her room to retrieve stuff that belongs to me – makeup and jewellery and towels. She gave me five boxes of condoms from Family Planning, because yeah, I really need them right now. They’re extra thick ones, which Jeremy told me are like gumboots. Nice.

I don’t know how to cook Roast Turkey, but we’re doing Roast Turkey for Thanksgiving Lunch on Sunday. It was going to be dinner, but Miss World’s on that night, so we have to watch that!

I haven’t written up my crazy night on Saturday, have I? Well, should I do that now? Possibly yes, yes I should. Okay then. It was Andy’s 21st, so me Clay and Brad drove out somewhere way way west in my car – I was happy to drive, because as the invitations said, by request there was no alcohol but a delicious fruit punch would be served. It was in a sports hall, which was a little newer than many sports halls, so that was cool. Andy’s mother’s kept the most amazing records of him growing up – writing down all his funny quotes and recording soundbytes of him ever since he was two. Listening to her speech, I was just thinking “awwwwww, i want a baby so i can follow them like this too!”. Incidently, Kate Benton dreamt that I was actually three years younger, and also pregnant with my ex’s kid. Thanks Kate!

Anyways, lots and lots of Andy’s friends and parents and church members made speeches. Brad and Nigel did one together, and played the “Big Tittie Monday” song Andrew wrote to promote Ryan&Jarrod’s Big Tittie Monday radio show – I dunno if the Salvation Army members fully appreciated it for the true piece of genius it is. I’m so going to get a copy of it. I must make a multimedia section for my site – I can also put in the video footage of Kate M talking about my horrible death, and oooh the video of Dancing Simon. Heheehe, I love that video so much! Anyways, eventually all the speeches were over, and we’d even prayed a little (which I thought was kinda nice actually, although when I prayed it wasn’t to any religion or to any being that I feel I know) and we all ate far too much sugary food. Andy wanted to dance then, so naturally, the Gang was called on to start off the dancing, so we did. Sugar sugar sugar is a mad thing – I even ended up dancing a jig, or trying to anyways. Nigel stagedived off a chair and we caught him. It was also nice that it was good wholesome alcohol free fun too, for a change. Not that it’d last though…..

Okay, I’m bored now. Tomorrow I will write up motorway chases, banging on windows, bathroom conversations, long walks, Brendon Lovegrove talking about my clit, barking, and the casino.

“am I famous for just one thing?”

From midday until 9.45pm, I was in the computer lab, working on our broadcasting assignment. Well, that included a break for a trip to the bank (damn you Internet banking that promises to do rent transfers and then doesn’t) dinner with Andrea at Boiger King (misspelling intentional to proclaim pronounciation) and a five minute phone interview with a reporter from the Herald. Hi, I’m Joanna McLeod, and I want a job producing content for the Internet. Bob King asked me to answer the reporter’s questions, as apparently, I’m a sort of spokesperson for the course. Yay me! I was actually really proud, especially when the PR woman in Bob’s office who was doing name-badge stuff for the expo whilst listening to me told me I’d given a good interview.

Today I wrote a story about microchips in vending machines that make their products talk that went along with a video piece Trevor and Andrea did. I also did some page laying out, and wrote blurbs about the people in our group, and that kind of stuff. I was so so so proud to teach trevor how to align pictures to the left right in the middle of the text – something people who never used Frontpage Express or any other really bad WYSIWYG programs might never have learnt. And Joe and I did a layout in Fireworks that worked real nice. Wahoo. Yeah, sweet ass. Anyways, around 9.30pm I got a call from Garland and when I answered my cellie, the voice was liek “Hello stinky poo” so I realised that my family had arrived at my flat, so they agreed to come pick me up from tech. Goddamit, it’s SO cool having your parents pick you up from stuff – I think that’s what I miss most living in a flat. They were all hungry, so I took them to D72, but the kitchen was closed, so I suggested bread and hummus from foodtown, and got aggressive defending that situation, because I was just waaaaay too tired to think about another cafe. And as Mum and Neil and Anji had just driven up from welly, they were pretty tired too and took my advice.

Back at home, we ate yummy things on bread (brie! baba ganosh! smoked beef! parents’ money!) and drank (parents wine, Anji and I the last of my vodka) and watched first Clayton’s brilliant documentary on BFM, t then his sitcom. It was the third time I’ve seen the sitcom (and the doco, actually) but I think the tiredness and alcohol proved to be a winning combination, cos i kept giggling and giggling. Then I showed them the Flat Video, that covers my audition for Life On Tape – talking about kicking out Leyton, Clay’s 20th birthday dinner and Simon dancing, Brad doing spicegirl moves for my CD ROM, and our Survivor Final Episode Party. They were very very impressed, and laughed a lot. Then Mum and Neil went to their motel which is just 100 metres down the road – I worked there for all of two days – and Anji and I had another drink. We had the absolute best gossip. It was Anji who told me all the way back in 5th form that giving blow jobs was empowering, and I’m very grateful for that advice – even if I didn’t give one to my best friend’s b/f like she was suggesting at the time. Thanks Anji and Cosmo – my god, how scary is it the first time you go down on someone and you have no fucking idea what you’re doing? Until you remember Cosmo going “there’s no wrong way to give head” and you relax a little, that is. I think drinking from Pint Glasses probably wasn’t the smartest move ever, eh. What you think is a reasonable three drinks is more like six. AND I STILL CAN’T SLEEP! GRR! I hate being so intelligent and thinking so much!

I’m reading this really good book r ight now which I can’t for the life of me remember the name of – something about Johnny Thunder, and it’s about a girl falling for the wrong guy, and her lifestyle reminds me of Anji, and the writing of it’s so real I can see every scene, and if my light was on, I would tell you the name of the book so that you can read it too, but it’s all dark and stuff, cos I’ve been trying to sleep for ages, so I can’t tell you. Woah, that was a very long sentence. Sometimes I think you need a map to navigate these journal entries of mine. My eyes hurt, so I should probably crawl back into bed now. I’m so so so nervous about tomorrow -it’s the first day of the expo, and I’m making a speech and all. One of the grad dips came up to me today and said she was really glad it was me making the speech, since I’d done so well presenting our project to the class, and I just thought that was really really lovely of her. But yeah. I think I’m going to go shopping with mummy tomorrow to find something to wear – I haven’t washed my new media pants yet, and I really should have. I didn’t expect to be at tech so late. “Maybe later – I’ve got creamy goodness in my mouth right now”

At tech today, I wrote an article about how Michael Jackson came to our Expo, and propositioned Joe for some “back ending” work. I wrote an article about how the staff at AUT have been secretly selling our bandwidth to buy Pajeros. I wrote an article about how the notorious hacker k1w1w3b hacked the Expo site. I like writing crap, oh yes I do! So that was tech. I came back home to watch the fight with the boys and drink beer, but I fell asleep before hand briefly, and didn’t want any beer. I’ve never watched boxing before, and I can’t say I really focused on it today either. Instead I rang my mummy, and discovered that her and Neil and Anji are driving up to Auckland tomorrow, and Anji is staying three nights with me. Mum and Neil are going to stay in the motel down the road where I used to work – well, for two days anyway. Yay, this is cool. Except that I’m just choto busy. But still, I can make them waffles and stuff.

Kara is also staying with us for a week, while being homeless. She’s lovely. She cooked us dinner. I hope we don’t scare her TOO much – scaring her a little is fine. I watched The Rock tonight. I really have nothing to say. Oh, I changed my bed linen so now it’s my lovely pink set. That’s about as exciting as my life gets. We dragged sleeping bags out onto the lawn today to get a little sunshine. Clayton and Kara came back inside covered in grass. Oh to be young and frolicky again. Oh wait, I am still young. Just not frolicking. I’ve had so many good gossips to people lately, and also not just gossips, actual good serious conversations too. No wonder I lost my voice. I need my voice back before I make a speech at the Expo. Oh, and I’m cleaning up my site tonight, on account of going to maybe give industry people my url, so if there’s something you wanna see again but you can’t find, just email me for the link, k? Goodo. “Maybe later – I’ve got creamy goodness in my mouth right now”

I’m queing for the toilet again and am just about to go in, when Kate B rushes up to me and is like “don’t go to the bathroom, come to the balloon room!!!!”

So she takes my hand and we run down the long shiny silver corridor into the kitchen, people clustered around red cabinets and I notice this hole in the wall. It’s about a metre square, and Kate’s clambering into it from a wooden chair, so I follow her. The hole is a tunnel almost a meter long, and it feels a little bit like Cube so I’m a trifle aprehensive, but the sides of the tunnel are padded with bubble wrap, which is cool. Then I emerge at the other side, surveying this huge room filled with black balloons, lit by some UV light somewhere, and a TV glaring blue in the corner. I slide down onto a leather chair, and dive under the masses of balloons. To my great excitement, I discover the the whole room is paved with mattresses. Kate and I don’t stop laughing for like ten whole minutes. We frolic and play, tossing balloons up in the air or occasionally diving on top of them. I’m pretty tired, so I burrow my way down (the balloons are waist high) and think about how nice it would be to sleep in there. There’s random heads all over the place and I have no idea how many people are under the balloons. There’s a wet patch in one corner which I hope is just a spilt drink. It’s a marvellous place – it reminds me of the ball pits at Rainbow’s End, but updated for the older generation who are out of their minds. I hide for ages, while Kate and her friend fossick around for me, calling out “Jo? Jo? where are you Joanna?” before eventually rising up, scattering balloons everywhere going “RAAAAAAH!”.

But I knew that I couldn’t stay in the balloon room forever, so eventually I surface, and clamber out of the room, still giggling at home cool it was. I wander into the dance room and dance for a while before I decide to go investigate people further. I think that I was looking for the guys wearing Ghostbuster style backpacks, but I didn’t find them. Instead I found myself in another lounge, lit by glowing bubbling columns, where a laptop was hooked up to a projecter, shooting crazy crackling spirally graphics onto a bed sheet pinned to the opposite wall. This room’s playing lighter music so I dance by myself for a bit, before curling up on a couch to stare at the graphics. I’m sorry, I keep cutting in and out of past and present tense, so maybe you should just pretend I’m doing it to be hip. Anyways, so I’m staring at the graphics when in come a couple of people. This girl introduces herself as Rhiannon, and so I have Fleetwood Mac running through my head. She tells me that she was me at the last party, just staring at the screen until it burnt into her eyes, and introduces me to the guy responsible for it. He used to live in the flat – we were in his old bedroom even – but he moved out to move in with his g/f. I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to move out of that house, it was so cool. It made @Garland seem inadequate! Rhiannon made me get up and dance again, to some heinously cheesy music, so eventually I wandered off again. I’m not too sure where I went.

Kate kept going through my bag looking for my hipflask, and in return I kept going through her bag after her black cherry lipgloss. Normally, I don’t rate Bodyshop products very much (the shops smell lovely, but I reckon it’s faked, just like the KFC scent), but this s tuff is the complete shit. Anyways. Eventuallly I went back to the Screen room, and was watching, when this guy came in and so I struck up a conversation with him. He was the marketing manager of Durasel – you know, that stuff you put on books. We were talking about flatmates for some reason, and he was like “and you don’t screw the crew” so I blushed, and he was like “no, you didn’t! it’s the golden rule!” and he started yelling at me so I just laughed. Last week i was at lunch with Kate H and Brad, and for some reason I was trying to persuade Brad to give Clayton head (i can’t remember why, but I’m sure there was a really valid reason) and so I was like “come on Brad – the flat that lays together stays together” and then both him and Kate H were staring at me going “umm Joanna” and I was like “yeah okay, shut the fuck up, bad example”. But that was a weird side diversion story.

Actually, I’m getting tired of telling every single little detail of the party. There were some strange pickup lines including “Why haven’t I seen you before – or were you ignoring me?”. I got stalked from room to room by this ugly guy in a singlet. Johnno showed up while I was lying by myself back in the balloon room so I talked to him for a bit, which was neat. I talked to one of the hostesses of the party, a nd found out there were six hundred balloons, all filled off a dive tank. I danced to happy hardcore by myself. The lightswitch in the bathroom was finicky. I will never forget the balloon room. Kate Johnno and I eventually left around about 4, by which time everyone else was gone and they were shutting down. It was brilliant.

“actually I have no urge to travel at all”