Hubris.co.nz

Because I’m trying to get everything tagged and tucked away and imaged and stuff here on Hubris, I have been reading through many many many entries, and woah, I sure have a lot of angst, don’t I?

I don’t, so much anymore, or at least not all that much today. It is nice to start your day with lunch at the Med Warehouse with Megan, and gossip your hearts out, and then to cruise the aisles looking at tasty things you want to eat, and then do the supermarket shopping, buy healthy vegetables and stuff and make huge big pots of dhal. It is also nice to have a Lisa Fur visit you and to watch Flash Dance together and sing along and twitter incessantly about Sassy Black Friends.

This unemployment thing is handy in that now I am coming off the zopiclone I am not sleeping at night at all so I am sleeping all day, but trying to be financially responsible means that my going out is severely curtailed. That is probably for the best, I suppose, because I am running out of people to drunk text. Getting cease & desist emails was a good thing, and the reaction that I had been pushing for.

Being home during the day means more amusing conversations with Smoo, and also being beaten by him at both Wii Tennis, despite my Williams-y grunting, and at bowling although I’m normally good at it, but beating him at Wii Baseball. It also means that I get to spend more time with Sebastian:

It sadly does mean that I’m churning through bandwidth at alarming rates, although I’m defaulting to simple things, rereading Harry Potter (I have lust for young boys, who knew?) and rewatching Angel.

I’m excited that I get to attend the cheese celebrations of Miss Harvestbird in October, and I’ve booked my flight on airpoints. Nothing good ever seems to happen to me in Christchurch (sorry Good Tom), but perhaps three times is a charm.

There’s more than one type of ooooh, you know.

Friday’s ooohs were of the dirty perverted kind when you realise that you want to do things to Harry Potter that shouldn’t even be expressed since he’s supposed to be 13 in that particular movie. We’ll say no more about that. To make myself sound better, there were also ooohs as I realised why things became important, and I shut up with the laughing at innuendos long enough to talk like a stupid person in the movie ie: “oh of course!” and “look out behind you!” type things.

Yesterday
There’s the ‘ooooooooooh’ when you sit down on the bench outside your soon to be ex flat, after you’ve done six trips carrying drawers, and a couple more trips carrying boxes down your steep Victorian staircase.

There’s the ‘ooooh’ noise when you’re folded into the back seat of your parents’ van because your boxes and chest of drawers are taking up the rest of the room and your sister is on the front seat and the heat is making you feel sick, and there’s the ‘oooh’ of relief when you get to unfold yourself and sit in the front seat cos you’ve dropped your sister in Tawa, ha ha.

There’s the oooh your tummy makes when you’re struggling to hold in laughter when your mother complains about her mother, and the oooh of disappointment when you realise that the cookies your grandmother is offering you are stale. There’s the oooh when you breathe out after holding your breath through her stale smelling rooms, and the oooh of relief that you have all your boxes stacked in the room off her garage now and as soon as you have made with the social niceties you can leave.

There’s the oooh when you dip your toes into the water at Paraparaumu Beach and realise that it’s not that cold, and the oooh that you want to whistle at yourself when you take off half your clothes and run in to go swimming. There’s the oooh of cold when you finally duck your head under and realise that it’s much colder that way, and the oooh as your muscles unwind in the waves. Somewhere in the spluttering from the water going up your nose there’s an oooh or two as well.

There’s the oooh when you see the newborn second child of your sister’s best friend and he’s gorgeous, and it’s just weird to see her all married with kids when it seems like only yesterday she was buying you vodka and taking you to gigs as a surrogate when your sister was on her OE.

Later there’s ooohs of little lightbulbs lighting up over your head when the plot of Firefly twists and turns and characters pash.

Today
There was the oooh of muscles cramping as you stay in bed for four hours, polishing off what was essentially a Jackie Collins novel in a Literary Type looking cover. You can’t even remember what the book was called, but it was great – in a Jackie Collins type way, of course.

There was the oooh that goes along with websurfing and coming to a page that jsut makes a person look like such a fucking tosshead that you can’t believe that they ever meant anything to you.

There was the oooh of tastebuds being tantalised in Bejing, and the ooh of frustration at not being able to pick up, fill, roll and eat duck pancakes all in one swift move with chopsticks. Then there was the ooh of a full belly, and the oooh when Clementine first started talking in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and you realised taht you were in love with her, and in love with the movie. There was the oooh when you worked out who Elijah looked like in that movie, and the oooh when you realised it was all coming around in a circle and that was yay. Then there was the oooh of delight in putting in an old video tape that your parents told you had The Lost Boys on it, and the oooh of discontent when the start wasn’t on it, and then the delight again every time Corey Feldman entered the frame. And then there were many ooohs of just amazement at commercials from 1994, and the ooh at the how loudly you were laughing at the episode of The Young Ones on the end of the tape. And now there is the Oooh of You Must Go To Bed, and anticipate the oooh of the release you’ll get thinking about Corey*. And the oooh of the pain in your wrists.

Tomorrow will be the oooh of the man, I am so over hunching over my laptop, and the oooh I just discovered more interesting facts about the band I am profiling, and then eventually the oooh, finally I am done. And that will be exciting. I mean, oooh, I get to go into a whole new POV tomorrow and all!

*You know I’m kidding about this one yeah? Keifer all the way! Well, all the way to the finish line tonight anyways.

Okay, so just because someone produces the magic substance that wakes you up does NOT mean that you should trust their decisions. Oh no. So if the boy who makes you coffee once or twice a week recomends that next time you have a VANILLA soy latte, don’t do it. Even if you love Vanilla Coke. Even if you’re easily swayed. Don’t do it. It tastes RANCID. Moral’o the story is, don’t take tips from men who listen to lifeFM or happy hardcore, and have mutton chops.

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.