I have dreamt about Bic Runga two nights in a row now. I blame my friend who emails me with tales of woe like “I have a blood blister from playing Foozeball with Bic. I am sore from playing soccer with Shayne”. Not that dreaming about Bic Runga is really that bad, but I was just disappointed when I woke up this morning and realised that I wasn’t actually working on my first solo album.

You know who should go solo? Like, in Antartica or something? The guy in the hat at the Pluto gig who was TALKING THROUGH THE WHOLE GIG. Up the front. Near the stage. In the sad songs. If punching him to knock off his hat and pissing on it wouldn’t have been just as distracting I would have gladly done it. Pluto have played better gigs, but I didn’t say that when Karen and I were retroly having cake at Midnight Esspresso (retro cos we used to do that in the olden days after seeing Garageland or Superette or the 3Ds at the old Bodega) and Milan came in and sat behind us and perked up his ears at what I was saying (mostly about how gleeful I was that they’d played ’8 O’Clock’, and how annoyed at Stupid Talking Guy I was. Then I saw Miss Lucy_Fur walking down the road and I waved but she didn’t see me, so I called her cellie cos it’s very amusing to watch people do the “ooh is that my phone ringing?” look, and then the mad scramble in the bag to find the phone. She and her friend Dawn came back down to the cafe to say hello.

Now, a confession: I am sometimes somewhat lacking in self confidence! No really! Sometimes when I meet them I don’t know if people actually like me, and I feel a little iffy around them. It took me ages to realise that Heather could actually stand me, and then the same thing happened with Jessie (I was like, wow, she must really like eating roti and must dislike being alone) and it just goes on and on. I am a spazz.

Anyways. That was Friday night. I stumbled home drunkenly around 2am and knocked over everything in the house, but didn’t wake Anji up, excellent. I cleaned on Saturday. It takes me like half an hour to vacuum both the couches. No it’s not just Seb-shed, it’s funny rub-off chenille stuff, and hair and tangles. Yum. I hope that once my couches are less new they’ll be less sheddy. Then KateB came over for takeaways and gossip and wine and we watched Mean Girls and then she left for like, a year. With a dagger.

Last night Dave and my parents and I went to a Serisen Wines dinner at Capitol. Holy crap it was amazing! We had Moana bubbles to begin with, then a first course of salmon gravlax with crumbed oysters and a lime olive oil matched with a limey 2004 Riesling. I don’t like salmon, and I’d never eaten oysters before. I figuratively licked my plate clean. I suppose pretty much anything tastes good when it’s deep fried, but the oysters were light and fluffy, not sluggish like I imagined that they’d be, and the salmon was paper thin, and didn’t smell or taste fishy in the way that salmon so often can. Mmmmmmm. The next course was bass and chive ravioli with clam sauce, matched with a chardonnay. I don’t know how clammy the sauce was – it seemed more buttery than anything, but it was really really nice. I don’t think that the accompanying clams were much good, but that is of course coming from the perspective of someone who doesn’t like shellfish. I don’t like cheap chardonnay either, but this stuff was lovely. The courses were pretty small, and spread out well, and the wine glasses were topped up too, which was fantastic. Then we ate duck confit with mushroom and potato pie and muscatel jus, and a Pinot Noir. Oh my god, mouth orgasm! The dessert, really simple grilled pineapple and marscapone with a late harvest Sauvignon was like TRIPLE MOUTH EXPLOSION ORGASM YUM. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. For $85, this was bloody excellent value, and I’m looking forward to going to the Ata Rangi one. Oh yes.

In other news, because I am furious with the temporary editor of Pulp who was in place for one issue, I may very well put up the FULL text (which doesn’t make me look like some kind of retard who doesn’t know that the Spice Girls had a second album before their third album, plus with bonus witty subheadings) of my story tomorrow. Also, I am moving offices to be with the Hott Young Things where I can be better utlized. Two people told me on Friday that I was doing a good job, woo! Of course then I went and fucked up majorly. Nevermind, it’s all half fixed now.

Also, I am in love with the new wallpaper and chandeliers at Indigo, and I may very well marry them, as soon as I get a divorce from the pineapple and marscapone that I also plan on marrying. Oh! And Auckland: I’m coming baby, oh yeah I’m coming real good. Haha. Also I’m visiting Auckland on the 9th and 10th of September I believe, and I intend to have drinks in my suite, assuming I get a suite, or something, and it would be lovely to see you then okay? Choice.

Before Shihad on Saturday night (they played DEB’S NIGHT OUT! Holy crap! I cried!), I was at Karen’s, and at Karen’s house I went to the bathroom, as I tend to do, and in Karen’s bathroom there was the latest <I>Salient</I>, (and I’m not going to say anything about how it tends to belong these days), and so I picked it up and read the editorial, and became absolutely disgusted. Apparently there’s going to be an SGM to attempt to roll the vice president, Jen Jones.

ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE?

Jen works harder than anyone else at VUWSA. She is passionate about helping students. Unlike most of the executive, she delivers results. Jen cares about what she’s doing. It makes me so mad that people could even suggest rolling her, so I implore you, if you are a Vic student, please go to the SGM, and please vote AGAINST rolling her (I’d tell you when it is, except that suprise suprise, the <I>Salient</I> site isn’t up to date). You might not agree with all of her ideologies, if you’re of a right wing nature (although hi, if you’re right wing, why are you reading my journal? Why aren’t you out eating puppies or something?) but surely you must see that she’s doing an excellent job.

I hate so much that there’s such a large number of ring wing people on the exec this year. That’s bad news for students. It’s also pretty shocking for the student magazine to have right wing connections too, but let’s not even go there….

<B>Update!</B>: Apparently it was
13 in favour
98 against

I’m fucking overjoyed. Thanks for making the right decision guys, you have renewed my faith that while the evil puppy eaters might talk louder, good sense and decency will prevail on the day. Yeah!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I dreamt this morning that I and a friend of mine had been making out – well, more sort of illicitly stroking each other almost platonically, and she’d been like “Well, should we make something out of this then?” and there was some sort of really annoying girl scout leader making us play stupid games when all I wanted to do was make out with my friend some more. I said that yes, maybe it was something, and she ran up and down the street telling everyone she was now a lesbian. Some woman made a homophobic comment, so Arnold Schwartzeneger leapt off a video box and shot her with a freeze ray, so Jean Claude Van Damme leapt off another video box and shot Arnie, and then Russell Crowe entered the fray. Then my alarm went off and for a minute after I woke up I was still all “yay, I wonder if I get to see my girlfriend today?” and then i felt weird.

Nevermind. Ignore that. Think about the two little kids at the bus stop this morning with their mothers (the kids must have been about two) who spotted each other. The little boy approached the girl, but because he was wearing his mother’s backpack, it was too heavy and it pulled him over onto his ass. When his mother tried taking it off him he cried, so she gave him a smaller side bag to hold. The girl grabbed her mother’s side bag and showed it off all proudly, because now she was just like him! Then they sat down together and she fed him Japanese crackers that he made a yucky face at. Aww true love! Why can’t it stay that easy when you’re older?

Stupid lack of having crushes on anyone except for the vaguest glimmer in one direction that’s a big no no no. Still it made me chuckle when I realised it existed.

Speaking of young boys, I emailed the guy that I threw up on last time I was in Auckland to see if he wanted to platonically hang out this weekend. I don’t even know if he has that email address anymore, but nevermind. I’m sure he’s not one to hold a grudge. It still made me feel really bad though. Nevermind.

Other things? Hmm yesterday I took a mental health day, but of course, Mental Health Days aren’t quite so healthy when Mum is home (I know right, how dare she be at home in her own house?) Back at work today there are SO MANY CHILDREN running around. Stupid <A HREF=”http://www.hubris.co.nz/entry.php?id=501090047&type=6″>loud</A> children who talked all the way through Julia Deans’s set before The Shins. The Shins were cool, but it was so goddam hot. Am I getting too old for big gigs? Surely not.

Auckland tomorrow! My day looks a little something like this
9.30am: Arrive, get picked up by Gemma, go for breakfast
11ish: Pop in and see KateB if she’s free
12.30pm: Haircut with Hayley
1.30pm: Lunch with a client
2.30pmish: check into hotel, meet Iva to go swimming at said hotel.
6pm: Meet Heather for dinner (mmmm food on sticks)
8pm: Meet Kateb for <I>Bugs Bunny on Broadway</I> and some kinda afterparty
Late: Maybe meet up with Heather and Paul after their gig?

Saturday:
……… hopefully something with Kyla and or Chelsea
5pm: The Zoo for Goodshirt and KateH
9pm: Out on The Town via a quick change at the hotel for KateM’s going away

Sunday:
10am: check out
10.30am brunch with Heather in Grey Lynn
12pm: KateH’s bbq

Is that enough detail for you to stalk me?
3pm: fly back to Welly

My letter to the Editor of the New Zealand Herald about this story

“The day before Parliament is set to hold a conscience vote on the Prostitution Reform Bill, the Herald runs a front-page story about a convicted rapist visiting a brothel. This isn’t news. The story isn’t about police catching Michael John Carroll red handed committing another crime (remember that under the double-standard current law, prostitution isn’t actually illegal, just solicitation). This isn’t a serious debate about whether or not he should have been paroled. The story is just an absolutely sickening editorial attempt to sway the vote away from law reform. By linking sex work with rapists, the story intends to imply that sex workers are entirely responsible for the moral decline of society. The front-page placement of the article, despite its lack of newsworthiness (it happened “some time”, not yesterday), clearly demonstrates the editorial position the Herald has taken on attempts at law reform. If prostitution remains illegal, the Herald will have more opportunities to publish those “12 year olds sell themselves for a can of corned beef” moral panic stories that it so dearly loves. Heaven forbid that such a conservative paper should actually support a bill that would improve people’s lives instead of scare mongering to raise sales.” 200 words only

---

So it’s been a while, hasn’t it? Well, when did you last hear from me and what did I say then? Ahh June 12, the night before my birthday party. That was a jolly good night, with people dressed in bear costumes (!), much gossip and scandel and me lusting after not one but two gentlemen. I had so many friends there, I wasn’t able to talk to anyone really. That was a shame. Oh well, a good time was had by all, except for Kara, but really, why is that such a suprise? It’s not. The following Tuesday (the 17th) I had my dinner at Canton, and that was lovely dovely, except for losing my wallet and feeling like no one cared about that fact. It was found later, and of course people cared, as I am constantly reminded.Yes, people care about me, I get that. I just feel really isolated a lot lately, and have discovered that it’s far more convinient and possibly a little more mature to push bottle caps into your arm so that they leave marks for a couple of days rather than scarring up with hot knives in hidden places. I’ve been questioning my current meds a little bit too because I feel sometimes like I’m at the stage where I can’t be bothered with people at all (re: Clayton being upset at Kara’s storming off at my party), while at the same time I’m feeling lonely and scared and freaked out. I guess it’s just generally weird when you hear Live on the radio or get books about monkeys and it brings to mind “You took advantage of me. I don’t know why I bother with you”.

It’s not all that though, there’s also gigglestyles at boys in bands who I saw play on Saturday at the Kings Arms for the ‘Here Come The Bulletholes’ release party who I have crushes on and I get to email them and say that they look sexy on stage. And then there’s that I got to talk to Tom McRae last week (thank you soooooo much darling!) and he was absolutely lovely. English people should be banned from saying “erm” instead of “um” because it’s just SO DAMN CUTE. I sounded like a fawning sycophant in the interview, but oh well. How could I help but be anything but?

I’d like to think that Iva has settled well into our flat although I’m sure she finds my disappearing chequebook a little annoying. Our computers are intemittently networked, so I can access her huge amounts of TV and movies. Oh how in love with Bernard Black I am! In other flat gossip, I’m incredibly pissed off with Johnny for buggering off to Queenstown without paying his rent, leaving me almost literally penniless and unable to purchase tampons or painkillers. GRRRRRRRRRRR. GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. Daniel is coming out of his shell more and more, and although Lance’s fetish for bringing home white picket fence pailings is more than a little disturbing, I adore him, he’s very fun.

Other things going on in my life right now? I think my Masterplan is never going to come to fruition. I’m annoyed with my failing lack of ambition, and the fact that I just churn out shit at work – when I’m doing anything at all, that is. It’s more than a little disconcerting to think of all the people I told about my brilliant idea, and how supportive they all are, to know that that’s going to be swept away in a tide of self pity and bleakness. I think that it’s probably quite likely that I should be going back into counselling (so.much.anger), but the prospect of starting all over again is more than a little daunting.

I miss having people love me. Even if I don’t deserve the love – but surely everyone deserves love? I know this entry is more than a little pukefest, but just like Bobby Brown, that’s my prerogative. There were so many more narratives that I meant to include but have forgotten. Probalby something to do with vidoes. I watched ‘S.F.W’ which I fucking worshiped when I was 15 (people fucking to “Teenage Whore”, Stephen Dorff walking in slow motion through a mall to “Creep” – what’s not to like? Oh, and Amber Benson is in it! I adore Tara. Oh Buffy, how can you be coming to an end so soon?), and it made me feel very nostalgic for a time when I thought I had the right to be “angry at the system, maaaan”. I have no idea what the hell I thought was oppressing me back then, but I want it back. I wanna jump up and down and scream “fuck you I won’t do what you tell me” in the mud again. But instead, I will just watch more videos and cry in joy at the end of “It’s a wonderful life”. Is this growing old? I guess so. Shit, I’m 23 now. Time to call out the knackers.

I’m wearing new Napolean mascara Karen sent me (although it’s weird – mascara? rather than eye shadow or lipgloss what I asked for? Surprises are cool.) and I feel like it’s making me open my eyes extra extra wide. That’s no bad thing.

I think I’m menopausal, cos I am full of hot flushes. Although the fact that I’m currently bleeding might suggest otherwise. Oh well.

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

There is a ridiculous amount of good food (ie – vegetables) and liquor in the house. You should come over. I will cook you the best dinner in the world.

Well hello there! It’s been a long time hasn’t it? Today has been spent in my pajamas, some of the time watching “The Shining” and some of the time standing in Bo’s doorway hissing “REDRUM! REDRUM!” and some of the time making and eating kickass guacamole. Freshworld, what used to be ummm something else, near Mt Eden Foodtown is now officially FUCKING EXCELLENT. Karen and I were drooling at vege shops up in Kerikeri, but this is now officially as good.

Oh yeah, I’ve been up north. For four days it was just me and Karen and my parents’ van and the open road. It was pretty choice. We stayed in Whangarei, Paihia and Pukenui. I went swimming in the ocean, through great big forests’o Kauri, to NZ’s northern most point, and horseriding along Ninety Mile Beach. All of it was pretty fucking spectacular.

My holiday came at the end of my exams, which were also the end of my graduate diploma, my year of study etc etc. It’s strange cos I’ve been happy ever since I started on cipramil, but there was just the hugest sense of an anticlimax at the end, and I cried some, cos it felt like no one fuckign gave a damn at all. For some reason, I still expect people to care when I achieve things. I guess I have this vision of someone popping up with an enormous novelty cheque. But anyways, later that night, Ammy managed to get all excited for me (I’m so glad i’ve discovered her again) and with her help, I perked up and we drank many bellinis and went out to see the Rogues play at the Galatos basement, and Lawerence did fat harmonica improves and it turned out ot be a fucking excellent night after all.

I have one week of only working part time, then I start full time til the 10th of January in the office I currently work in, only doing some’o the computer guy’s job as well as my own. I feel very not up to the task, but it’s okay, cos if there’s ever anything too complicated, I can email him and say “oh, shall I go into your database and fix it?” and he’ll freak out and do it by remote access from Ireland instead. Muahhaha. I’m liking my office – although it is currently full’o turmoil and drama. Maybe that’s why I like it -because it doesn’t affect me.

I’ve been having an influx of very very vivid dreams lately. I dreamt about my latest crush twice – probably my mind’s way of reminding me it’s highly doubtful I’ll ever see him again. Those were nice dreams but I’ve also had very traumatic realistic ones as well, which I could so do without.

Homework that I’m supposed to be doing for Kulpana (look, I learnt her name!) is writing a list of all the things I like about myself vs. all the things that I don’t. I’m becoming even more selfaware but that doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m any more in touch with my feelings. She’s suggested that maybe I am far too influenced by other people’s opinions of me. If I say that maybe she’s right then I’m just proving her theory aren’t I?

Next Saturday, I am going to Rumba – the pop music festival. Brad’s dad got tickets for free, and to quote Brad – “well you were the first person i thought of, of course. i mean, who would appreciate a whole days worth of crap pop music better than yo ho jo?”. Yo Ho Jo is of course my pirate name. Yaaaarh.

Last night I went to a BBQ at Dee’s house. When her husband introduced me to people, he was like “oh, you’ve met them before, but you were drunk”. Well at least I wasn’t fucking wearing boat shoes or talking about yachting! I couldn’t drink last night as I was driving. Still, it was nice to catch up with Dee again. I’m giving up on people who don’t return phone calls or texts, I can’t be assed making the effort all the time.

Hmm, that’s probably about all the update you need for now. If you want to know more, then you can email me. You know how.

xojo

Friday September 6th, 2002

Last night, I went as KateH’s +1 to Salmonella Dub at the Saint James, but we were both pretty drunk before we met up, and then she said she could get me drinks on receipt, so I was like, well sure, so we just ended up sitting in the booths upstairs gossiping/yelling _with_ each other, not at each other, cos she’d had a bad day, and I had conspiracy theories running around in my head, and oh god, I just wanna say (and you know I sorted this out with you Katie, so this is not a diss) how can you people not be able to tell the difference between “so I met this guy last night and he was totally amazing and I felt really close to him and I so want to see him again” and “I shagged a boy last night – he was really nice but we had no connection”? Maybe my communication skills aren’t as good as I’d like to think that they are. I know y’all have my best interests at heart though and I love you for it. Too defensive my fucking ass.

Anyways, so we didn’t even see Salmonella Dub, though we heard them, and then KateH went to the B-Net afterparty, and I managed to blag my way in cos I wanted to spend more time with her. I have to say, the so called “cool” people of this world are actually really fucking boring. Then I went home and lay on the floor in the lounge for hours and hours watching Nine Inch Nails videos and then talking on the phone til almost 5am.

Today I got woken up by Penny calling at 10.30am, and so she came round around 1pm and we caught up on the St Pats Boys gossip from the CarnageMatakana party. Then Anji rang me with hot exciting gossip. Now I am going to have a shower and take my green folder and go to bed.

BUT! The purpose of this journal really is to let you know that I have finished my zine, “BOYS BOYS BOYS BOYS BOYS” and I would like to trade it with you. Zines, yes, how retro 1993. Go to this page for more information, and yeah, that’ll be cool. Thank you!

Dammit, some slapper has just stolen my bathroom. Must go sort this out!

June 1 – Saturday

In three hours, I will be watching Pluto, and in six hours, I will be bowing down in awe at the feet of the mighty Pacifier/Shihad. !. !!!!. Bow down to me.

I’m just hoping that by that stage, I won’t be feeling so hungover. When did I last write? Probably a couple of days ago I guess. I’m feeling much better. It’s amazing how destressing work is, I guess becasue I know what I’m supposed to do, and it’s like Problem to Solution, easy as pie. And that’s very different from trying to tell someone what they should be doing in regards to their personal life. Yeah. Anyways,

So Thursday night there’s top secret meetings and secret plans and cool potential and stuff, and meeting a whole lot of new people, which is always interesting. I’m excited, I think. And when I got home, my KatieB showed up a little later, and that was completely lovely. It annoys me though that she’s been known to ring me up and scream blue murder at me very early in the morning for neglectign to tell her about a random kiss I received from a not-so random boy, but meanwhile, she’s been seeing someone for like six weeks without mentioning him once to me. You are an EVIL GIRL KATIE!

Friday was working, and I was trying to write an article, and of course I remembered that I just completely can’t remember how to write news articles anymore. But then Skew came back with lots of food he’d pilfed from a meeting, so that was nice. Oh yeah, I’ve thought of psuedonames for the three people I work with, and I’ll just have to keep remembering them. The kickass thing about work (well, one of the many things) is that I’m on a salary, rather than an hourly rate, and so whenever my work days fall on public holidays I just get paid for them regardless. Choice, especially since I work full days on mondays and half days on Fridays. Hmm, friday was yesterday, wasn’t it? Yes it was. So early last night, I got a txt from Justin saying he was down at Murphy’s drinking with Wayne Hope (Mass Com tutor) and I should go down and meet him and we’d proceed to JeremE’s birthday party from there. I decided that sounded like a good plan, so I got dressed, but then Kate told me my breasts looked weird and made me change my bra (and then she tells me I’m paranoid!) but eventually I got approval and she dropped me off at Murphy’s.

After I walked into Murphys and looked around for ages trying to find Justin, the bouncer came up to me and made me go back out to the front door to show him my ID. I thought that was more than a little unnecessary, but if it made him feel like a big man, then so be it! I managed to find Justin and sink some pints. There were more people who said that they’d met me before, and this time I actually managed to place them – “Oh, we talked on the stairs for ages, didn’t we?”. One day I am going to make myself flashcards to improve my name-face rememberence levels. Wayne Hope said he remembered me from two years ago, and I was like “I didn’t work very hard” and he was like “but you had charisma” and that made me laugh a lot, because really, drunken lecturers are funny. And a bunch of us (us being me and Justin and Justin’s friends) went to go get some food. They were madkeen on Nando’s, so we went to the Atrium on Elliot foodcourt but everything was just shutting, so no one got a very good meal. But hey. Then we cabbed it to Nick’s house in Ponsonby via Liquorking. I’m still really surprised at how nice Nick’s house was, and I told him so many times – “like, I’m not saying you’re all that scungy or anything, but I would have expected your house to be”. There was a bidet in the downstairs bathroom.

So yeah, lots of drinking sitting in Nick’s porch, and then Brad came along and drove us all to JeremE’s house. Brad kicks ass. We hung out and talked a lot. There was a dj and house music playing in the living room, and couches in the hall and stuff. I talked to people that I knew, but mostly to Brad and Hamish. It was a good atmosphere though. Eventually one of the boys that I’d been drinking with earlier came and sat next to me, ripping my skirt in the proccess, and since there was three of us on a two person couch, he put his arm around me and then when Brad left, I suddenly realised that he was giving me the eye, and that I was giving him the eye too, and I was a little surprised. But hey, I went with it, and when we thought no one was watching we kissed, and he invited me back to his house, promising me chocolate and a lock on his door. In keeping with the whole discreet attempts, he said he’d meet me on the street, and left, so I left a couple of minutes later. There’s me trying to keep a straight face telling Brad and Justin that I was really tired and going to leave. I couldn’t figure out if they were clued to me or not, cos I would have thought Justin would have said something (or asked for a percentage) but hey, whatever. And so I met the boy on the driveway and made out against a car with him (classy!) before our taxi arrived.

He was a real sweetheart; he played Jeff Buckley and had an electric blanket and he called me gorgeous, and made me a chicken enchillada, so that was cool. He also put up with me making long cellphone calls to Tom and KateB because he was a nice boy. <!– SUCH a sweetie; he looked like the singer of Pluto, but Jesus, someone needs to teach him that hey, you know, maybe Foreplay would be a good idea! –>And as such, I left when he was sleeping and walked home – you know me and my _sleeping_ with people issues. KateB was fast asleep in my bed when I got home, so I pulled out hte couch in the lounge, watched Tool videos and had a very amusing conversation with KateM who was in Wellington.

Sometime in the middle of the night (okay, well it was 4am when I got home, so maybe 6amish?) I woke up and had absolutely no idea where I was – I knew i wasn’t in a boy’s house but it was the whole sleeping i the lounge thing that threw me off, so I ahd a minor freakout but it was okay. Around 10am KateB got up and climbed under my duvet with me and we spent a couple of hours with her bitching about house music, poking each other and screaming and squealing and laughing and giggling and it was awesome. Clayton’s psycho mother kept calling – why doesn’t that boy have ANY nice women in his life (me included)? Around 2ish, Kate and I went to Occam to meet Derek, who stood us up. On the way, we stopped by the boy’s house cos I was feeling a bit bad, and I put a note in his letterbox which said “Hey *! Thank you for the enchilladas and I hope I didn’t make you feel like a man-whore leaving while you were sleeping. You’re a total sweetheart, Jo”. No number or anything, cos it wasn’t that type’o deal.

Now I feel a little ill from the food and the hangover and stuff, so I will have a nap, and then go to True Colours in time for Pluto. I’m going by myself because I’m cool and secure. KateH will be there though, and hopefully I will see her. And anyways, I will see her tomorrow for sure because there’s a new series of Dawson’s Creek starting – wahoo! And then I will need to do my assignment. My arm is really really sore – I suspect it’s from carrying a dozen all the way from the liquor store to Nick’s house.

K, naptime now. I’m happy and bouncy today, and that’s cool. Also I should call Brad and apologise for not hanging with him very much. I feel a little stink for having left the party so early, but I guess sometimes a girl has to do what a girl has to do. Also, don’t forget my birthday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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