Now I have a a toss-up between good or bad. Let’s go with the bad, then the good.

I will try to keep this paragraph relatively spoiler-free, but I have been watching a certain show set in 1963 on torrents, and so yes, you can expect that Mad Men WILL deal with the assassination of JFK (oh, spoiler alert, apparently the president got assasinated in November 1963..) and I was watching that episode last night and because of course, much like you, my moment of “This is history happening right now” was 9/11, and so it was all played out in flashback sequences last night, the starting on Fluox, the Buffy episode at 3am, the flicking to the news channel, the “oh wow, what movie is this?”, the text messages to Kateh and Thomas, the wondering whether or not to wake Clayton, and then the flatmate hunt in the weeks after, but most relevantly, EM’s letters about what he told his son about the bad men when his son’s cartoons were taken off the air. It’s 2009, EM, shouldn’t you be emailing me right now?

But oh, the happy anniversaries! They can wipe out all the badness. And this is where the glee comes in, with going to Christchurch for one night for Harvestbird and Ned’s wedding. I feel very tongue-tied and inadequate and actually quite useless in recording such a lovely mellow event (although I can say that some dumbass Kwikimart clerk gave me terrible directions and it took me 30 minutes to walk to the bar instead of two), but what I can do instead is embed a drunken video for you that I took of the crazy lights in my crazy hotel room:

Apart from that, Christchurch was AWESOME! There was the girl on the plane who recognised me from a rollerderby match (“you’re Jo from Pretty Pretty aren’t you?”) who gave me a tour around the city to my hotel and an adventurous trip back to the airport the next day. There were hungover drinks with Emma Hart who managed to make ME blush which is practically as unheard of as the word “squozen” and the brunch the next day with Kebabette at C1.

I know Kebabette from PPP, so this is a good time to say how awesome the Pretty Pretty Party was. Also awesome? The Pride & Prejudice & Zombies ball. There are great pics on that link, by the way. I do so really love to dance, and the girls and boys at that dance swept me off my feet and all over the floor and I really should have hitched up my skirt better so I wouldn’t have slipped over so much. The fact that I ended up crying behind my (Theresa’s) fan at Motel later that night and sending texts to inappropriate people because I wanted some attention is clearly irrelevant. Honest!

I had a period for like, almost two weeks or something? Which was annoying but at least it kind of made my body make sense. Now I’ve got a three-week contract working from home but all I seem to want to do is take naps, so my hours are a little sporadic and off the standard chart. I have Fridays in the office to ground me however, and I feel really good and confident about the work I am doing. It is very much aligned with my skill set and close to my heart. Someone commented to me on Facebook the other day about how they can’t believe that I still don’t have a job yet and I feel pretty much the same way that they do, only more so.

El moved out but a lovely girl from Twitter who is on Brutal Pagaent (boo!) at Roller Derby (yay!) will be moving in. Brent’s going to move in with his girlfriend so I still need another flatmate. My social calendar is insanely busy. Hubris wasn’t updated for a while, but now it is. Good. Gossip Girl time now, right?

Except Lisa has me watching a Pearl Jam clip where they’re singing ‘Black’ and I expect him to start singing “We…belong…together” like he does in the Unplugged video, not altogether too different from Campbell Scott (that’s right, isn’t it Jessie? I get the two confused) in Singles but then he sings lines from ‘Good Woman’ instead about how he’s lying when he says he doesn’t love me no more, and oh, they’re too much like a text message when someone said that they were going to say that they were over me because they were weak, and oh, fuck you Obama, I am holding you entirely responsible for this, apart from the parts that are Guy Fawke’s fucking doings..

It appears that Sebastian is a tradiionalist too, and has once more run away over Guy Fawkes. This makes it three years in a row, and I know that if he disappears for eight days like he did the first time, I won’t survive. But for now, I will sustain myself on giggles that Miss Rat Pony and I can share over a subject called “A.” and it’s really got out of hand, and honestly, I am sick and diseased and I think I decided tonight that there was no point and that I needed to stop.

Anyways. Tonight I went up to my old office (same company still, but we have two buildings – have I explained that enough?) to watch fireworks above the harbour go bang. I was actually incredibly impressed. After that one time in Japan, when my parents made me (against my wishes) ride a stupidly crowded subway for an hour and a half and then walk for half an hour and then sit on a crowded tapualin for half an hour watching some big display, I have not been the biggest advocate of fireworks, except for sparklers, the occasional bang at Halloween and and that one time that Si, Morphone Matt and I were letting off fireworks that night we stayed up all night drinking barcardi and theyclimbed the tree that’s been cut down now.

I am watching Starsailor on TV right now. I deliberately smoked half a cigarette last night. I wonder if thses things are leated, like that I am trying to sabotage my life, like maybe I am “oh, those things that y7ou want, they’re not going to happen, so why don’t you just crash your ferrari, and kill Razzle, and go to jail?” I have also been rereading The Dirt again, in case you didn’t get that reference. I’d give it all up to have Sebby back here cuddled up to my thighs. And Starsailor says “my wandering soul found solace at last” and wow, I don’t even know what solace is anymore, if I did ever. And I am going to enter Cosmo’s erotica writing competition, and you know I will be good at that, and while we are talking erotica, let me go again “OMG SO SMITTEN” but I decided tonight that I am wrong. Also, while we are talking aobut tonight, can we please get a FUCK YEAH for Mt. Vic being on fire?

Also, since we stayed late, and played silly games at work,I’d like you to say which of these three statements is wrong, since no one else got it: A) I refer to my breasts as Mary-kate and Ashley because of their size discrepency B) I lost my virginity when I was 13 C) I have a fondness for age discrepencies with thte people I sleep with?

Also for right now, I’m praying that someone will heed the invisible signals that were probvably totally inaudible as well and come over and we’ll sort this out> I bet that won’t happen though. Still, a girl has two fingers.

Eventually I’d faffed my way into some going out clothes with the twins out and we headed out the door down to the supermarket, but Sebby was following me and following me and I really didn’t want him to get onto the main road of Newtown, and I knew he was acting strangely cos of the fireworks, so I took him back to the house and met Brad at the bus-stop later. It took fucking ages for the bus to Kelburn to show up, but while we were waiting we got to watch the big explosions over the harbour (yes, despite the fact that Newtown is flat on the ground). So that was vaguely entertaining, but neither of us are that fussed about the boom boom boom. I am so over the number 22 bus, and I’m worried that I will have to catch it every day when they stop the 18 (campus connector) over the summer. The 22/23 goes to Courtenay Place and then down Willis, Lambton Quay and then up the Terrace before it gets to Kelburn and it takes forever. I probably could walk faster, except ha ha, yeah right. The bus on Friday night was steamy with the rain and the many people on it from watching the bang bangs. I asked Brad if it was okay if Jess’s party was teh suck that we could go and fire bottlerockets (which of course are banned and I don’t have any of) at my office windows cos with all the magazines and boxes piled up in the main bit, this place would burn real pretty and easy. He said that was fine.

But Jess’s party wasn’t at all teh suck, far from it. Initially I felt kind of old, cos it was a uni party after all, but I just drank some more and that went away. PLUS! When we were first standing in the kitchen part of our tour, in there walked a PANDA BEAR. You know a party’s going to be a good party when there’s people in animal costumes. I decided then and there that I would be hugging that panda before I left. In fact, Brad and I discussed slipping it a rophy, but since I didn’t have my date-rape hat on (but I always could accessorize…) we were unable to do that. Instead we talked to Jess’s lovely flatmate and also a bunch of other people. Some people didn’t have very much of a sense of humour but that’s okay because I managed to sho them away eventually I think. At one stage I was sitting on a couch in the window when I turned around and for some reason locked eyes with a cute boy outside the window, and then we proceeded to have a long conversation, although I couldn’t hear a word he was saying. Things I may have said include: “I can’t hear you” “what?” “You’re very very cute”, “the world is trying to keep us apart” and possibly “I think we’re soulmates”. I was definately giggling and blushing like a smitten kitten schoolgirl. I realised he was drinking Hollandia, and since that was Brad’s beer’o the night, I realised I had a way to prove our soulmatedness to him, so I rushed off to the kitchen to get one of Brad’s beers, but they were all gone, and when I got back to the window so was the boy. His friend told me later that the boy’s name was Fritz (dumb!) and that he could hear everything i said (duh, silly me not thinking about sound-type-physics of being inside with the stereo vs outside without it). Brad then came to the conclusion that it was Fritz who stole his beer. My heart was broken, until I was given a vanilla vodka and cranberry (tastes like boysenberry icecream!) and a girl who will remain nameless showed me her nipples, after Fritz’s annoying friend showed us his. I covered Brad’s eyes and showed the nameless girl mine. The panda looked on in shock. Then there was some dancing and some laughing and much funness and a tiny grope (not of the panda, although I did get my hug – possibly several) and then Brad wanted to go home so I figured I’d save money on cabfare and go too.

The next day, which, strangely enough was a Saturday, I woke up and thought I’d go for brunch and funshopping before going to Katy’s for her goodbye BBQ. I made a big mistake and went to Bar Edward for brunch, because I thought “hey, what could be wrong with $5 waffles?” Well, once I finally got to order them from the bar people who were arguing with each other rather bitterly, and asked for a latte and water and had to wait for another person to come out and figure out the really hard maths of 5 + 3 = 8, and then discover that my choice of reading material was AA Directions or the free local paper, and then get served cold soggy waffles with a splot of yoghurt and golden syrup on them and two slices of kiwifruit, and no sign of my latte or water until I asked twenty minutes later and then the latte was overheated and just yuck, well, nothing really.

Around 4pm I managed to drag my ass into town and up the horrible hill to Katy’s for the last time. Everyone was sitting in the back, so on nasty yucky concrete with weeds and thistles everywhere cos that’s where the bbq was. I felt really uncomfortable physically, and slightly socially awkward, although there were a couple of people there who I thought I was quite close to a couple of years ago (but then I stopped taking e). The boy who I used to have a huge huge jones for was there, and I noticed that he laughs like Iva’s ex, and that’s so not hot. But still, it was fun and I had a piece of the best steak ever. Maybe it was so good cos I ate it with my hands and put blue cheese on it. Who knows? I went home around 8ish, to take a nap and get changed with the intention of going to a party with Katy and then to the closing down of Studio 9, complete with LIGHT UP DANCE FLOOR, but then I got very sick and crapped til I bled. Yum! Who needs anal sex when you can just have the hot beef injection instead? Not me! So yeah, I stayed home instead, and chuckled at all the parts of Hot Shots Part Deux that seem to have become so much more relevant lately. And on that topic – man, we had motherfucking EMINEM on our side – how the hell did we lose?

Yesterday being Sunday, I did laundry and went to town to buy some new shoes but #1 Shoe Warehouse isn’t in Cuba Mall anymore so I didn’t. I did have a fuckoff big breakfast at the Krazy Lounge though – garlic mushrooms on french bread, hashbrowns and bacon – with Karen, and I bought some more body butter from the Bodyshop, this time in coconut cos I’ve just finished my papaya. Yeah interesting, rock on. Then I locked myself in my room cos i was overtaken with an attack of the GRRRR I HATE YOUs towards my flatmates for no reason at all except that I wanted to watch X-2 on Sky and they didn’t. I don’t actually hate my flatmates, I’m just in serious need of a bleed cos I’m feeling kind of dead and hating of everything. I am in love with Pretty Girls Make Graves right now. My new playlist is called “Are you sure you’re still alive?” – it’s loud and fast and very very rocky and contains the line that I am trying to use effectively today: “AND NOTHING ELSE MATTERS WHEN THEY TURN IT UP LOUD”

Oh look, Jo’s talking real trivial issues, she must be feeling better!

And actually, I am. even if Cipramil leaves me with a dry mouth and totally inadequate orgasms and weird dizzy spells sometimes. Oh, plus I have a totally burnt thumb. But I suspect that has more to do with Guy Fawkes than any other mental affliction.

So where were we? We talked about the coffee, which sucked. I trained today to do the WebDev Guy’s job while he’s away on leave. He put a sign on our office door that has the Communications Administrator Job being done by a “Joanne” McLeod. Apparently this is his reaction to Bridget telling him off for spelling it “McCloud”. I was like “Skew, you just gave me all your passwords for the webserver, are you sure you wanna say bad things about me?”. I hope he knows I do actually like him, even if there is a little “friendly” tension between me and Terri’s replacement. I’m still infamous at work for doing so well at the quiz on Friday night, and of course for the Hula dance that went along with it.

I worked from 10-3pm today, serving at Skew’s leisure so that he could teach me before he gets all mad panicy, and then I went for my eye appointment, which is very heavily subsidized by my organisation, as long as I made it clear that I need glasses to operate my VDU. I made it very clear. The guy was all young and nice, being a final year Opotometry Student, and it turns out that my glasses are WAY TOO STRONG on my left side. He was nice but too close in some parts, and I felt like I was supposed to pash him, because really, that’s the only time you’re supposed to hear people breathing like that. And then we got to the room where to try on frames, and he put the first pair’o frames on me, and he was like “yeah, that’s so it” and we tried on lots more pairs, but he was right, the first pair really suited me, even though they were $300 frames, and we couldn’t find anything nice that was cheaper (“I have expensive tastes!”) plus when someone is so convinced that something looks that good on you, it’s hard to argue, isn’t it? I told him off during my (incredibly long) eye examination cos he kept laughing at me when I was so obviously wrong reading letters, and he was like “hey, it’s boring to be so clinical”. He also got an abridged version of my full medical history because he damn well asked for it, and yes, thank you, I appreciate why I’m having dizzy periods, and I’m paying $120 an hour to sort that out, and I appreciate that you’re taught to do this, but seriously, get back to writing me out a new glasses prescription. Thank you.

And then this evening there was Quiz, but when Clay and I got there, who was sitting outside but *IV (damn, I wish I was into full name disclosure styles, cos it’d sure as hell make things easier) and I was like umm “okay, I’ll go get the beer” because i am LAME and because he totally wouldn’t even look in my direction at Justin’s last party, and then KateH showed up, and eventually Peter (Hi peter, you’re choice even if you’re not scrawny in a tight tshirt anymore) and a friend of his, and that was our quiz team, although Bo and Leo put in an appearrence for a little. At one stage, I went out to the bathroom, and *IV was out having a cigarette, so I kicked his chair, and said hey, and said that he didn’t need to be afraid’o me cos I didn’t mean to cause trouble at all in any way. He said he was back with his g/f and I said that I knew that, and that was cool and I understood, and he was like, “but you were the first girl since her” and I said that he’d told me that at the time, and then I told a kinda lie and said that I was in love with the boy who’s party we’d hooked up at (a lie in that it wasn’t LOVE as such, but definitely some kinda big feelings) and he was like “what, Justin?” and I laughed my head off and I was like “don’t you remember – we were at a party in Herne Bay” and he was like “ooooh” and I said that he was quite probably the nicest boy I’d ever had sex with, and I’m sorry that I’d snobbed him the first time I saw him after we’d had sex but I hadn’t expected to see him again quite so soon, and he was like “I got a snub in the Hub” which was actually really funny and we were both like, mutal admiration for how cool each other was, and he said that he’d got the note I left him in his letterbox that said he was a total sweetheart, which is true, and he said I had great taste in music, and we had a laugh, and just parted on super terms. So that was lovely.

Meanwhile, back at Quiz. OH MY GOD! Okay, so every Tuesday, we call ourselves “The Slab” on account of it being our apartment name, right? Well, tonight not only were there “The SLAB” but there was “Peanut Slab” as another team, and also “FUCK THE SLAB” as a team name. ATTITUDE! Anyways, we won, and so that’s a $50 tab for us to drink next Monday when I’ve finished my first exam. No more Quiz nights at Vesbar anymore, at least not over summer. He took my number and said he’d call if he started working somewhere else, but Meh, I doubt that’s what I would like it to be, then him and me and KateH played with Sparklers in the Quad. It was pretty choice. ANd then I went up to Kelly and Rowena’s and we set off fireworks on their roof and I burnt my hand. I went home cos I was so drunk I could hardly stand up anymore, especially in the rain, and Kara and Clay and Bo and Leo were all watching Harry Potter, and there were Nachoes on the stove, so I was stoked, and that was cool, except, my god, maybe kids have mucher longer attention spans than I do, cos I so could not be bothered concentrating, so after an hour and a half, I headed off here.

But doesn’t it make you happy? Look, Jo all conscious and stuff – and like, sure she’s drunk, but that just means that her OOS doesn’t hurt as much, and yes, I am, I am looking after myself, MUM. ANd soon, I will post you a rant about happiness, and also about Therapy. White MiddleClass Girl Angst etc. Love you all – well okay, that’s a lie. Love all of you who you know who you are, and care about some of the rest of you, and are glad some of you read me, adn would very much like some of the rest’o you to fuck off now please. Thank you. Xojo.

So yes, very very tired. I was relieved to find out today from Mansfield that actually, all our paperwork and website isn’t due in today after all. Plus, apparently he’ll very happily give anyone an extension on their I.D project, and accept stuff with “Under Construction” segments. But that’s cheating. I figure if I can get an A on the planning of it all, I can damn well get an A on the actual thing. But I’m not sure if I will or not. I can dream. It’s all that makes doing an instructional program on how to use the AUT Phone System bearable. We had some career people come talk to us, and they said “You can expect a starting salary of around $30,000 in your field when you graduate” but Mansfield said after that if you go into Coporate Instruction work, you’ll start on at least $45,000. But where oh where is the soul?

I like Director. Well, I like it better than Quest anyways. I think I like it better than Flash too. My timeline is all colour coded and pretty. Arrrrgh, what’s happening to me? Helen asked me and Jody today if we’d had any Fireworks this year – my automatic response was “yeah I have it installed on my machine at home”. Of course, she was refering to Guy Fawkes. Why do program makers try and give their products such fucking bizzare names? I mean “FLASH!” – and how many people start singing “oooooh Dreamweaver, I believe…” AAARGH! Okay, sorry – you can kind of tell that lately I’ve been spending 90% of my awake time in the labs at tech, can’t you?

I meant to change my sheets and stuff tonight, and maybe even do a load of washing, but when you get home at 10pm, the inspiration’s really just not there, is it? Ooh I just made my back crack something lovely. I’m sure it wasn’t healthy, but it felt good. I’m not very healthy, and I intend to change that. My body’s so completley unable to cope with stress that it gets really really sick whenever I need it the most.

The link to my journal page is maybe likely to disappear off my front page sometime soon. This is in keeping with the fact that we’re soon going to have to make our answering machine message less offensive too as I go jobhunting. Damn conformity!

I’ve drank about three litres of water today. I’m pissing on the half hour. If someone was to give me a neck and shoulder massage, I would sell them my soul.

Think my “Night” capsuale is kicking in yet? I took two last night and still didn’t sleep. Too much running through my mind, plus I can’t breathe with a blocked nose, and I can’t sleep when I can’t breathe. My parents are coming up to Auckland next week to go to the Expo. Anji may or may not come. It’ll be nice to see them. I think I must also borrow money off them, unfortunately. I’m looking forward also to getting gloriously drunk on Wednesday night after the expo is over. And going to Hamilton on Friday to see Andee and Shihad and Fur Patrol.

Brain mush brain mush brain mush.

Oh, and just cos I was showing them to Annette, here are the last ten search engine thingies that people used to find my journal page:

• delivered baked goods
• flame test ion
• coloured gifs and jpegs and wizard
• piss jpegs,
• gifs of eart,s rot jpegs,
• gifs of eart,s rot jpegs
• hot jpegs
• fuck her very badly
• Nipple Licking

“You got nipple licking? I’m so jealous!”