Hubris.co.nz

Friday 12; Febuary, 1999
I was smart and turned my cellphone off last night (or this morning at some heinous hour to be perfectly honest, although I won’t tell you the exact hour because it shocks even me). This morning I woke up to the sound of a toilet flushing, which completely freaked me out. I mean, I should have been the only person in the house. So I opened up my door and there was Clayton in the hall – obviously home from the Coramandel. I went back to bed, after turning my cellphone back on.

I woke up again around 1pm when it beeped at me with a page from Olivia. I’d had two messages before then from Justine, but I’d slept through those. So yeah, it was good to get a wake-up call. Kate yelled at me yesterday that I need to reset my body clock for when Tech starts again. I kinda like living four hours behind the rest of the world apart from Andee and Thomas but then again, Andee’s moving back to Hamilton on Saturday so I won’t be able to talk to her on the net anymore anyways. And plus, now Clayton’s back, I can’t have music blasting out at all hours. Boy, it’s going to be weird living with someone again. I’d gotten so used to the solitaire thing. This is probably healthier – no more toast for dinner.

And speaking of not eating toast for dinner, I went to the supermarket today. I was going to take a bus up to it, but then I realised that I’d just missed on and I didn’t want to wait another twenty five minutes, so I figured I may as well walk. It’s just as well I did, because Foodtown is actually so much closer than I thought it was. So I did the shopping, trying to keep expenses down, and having no idea really what to buy because I wasn’t shopping for just me. I did buy heaps of shit for myself though, like shampoo and chocolate and red wine (life’s essentials) but that’s going to come out of my pocket, not the communal-yet-to-be-established-fund. Walking down the wine aisle, I accepted a taste-cup of some red that tasted a lot like a white, because it hadn’t been oaked. I guess it was the sun, and the fact that I hadn’t eaten all day, but I felt all light-headed and warm after that. Made the shopping better I guess.

I took a cab home, because there was no way I could haul all the groceries home otherwise. My driver was this really cool chick, and we just babbled away the whole distance home. It was $5, so that’s cool – not too much to spend for saving so much hassle. It’s nice to have food in the cupboards again. I was even inspired to do a little cleaning and tidying.

It’s weird now though, cos like I said, Clayton’s back and so I feel like I have to be tidy and polite and stuff. No big deal really, but I can’t scratch myself, or sit with my skirts hiked up now or anything. I don’t want to traumatise the lad.

There was something I wanted to say, and I can’t remember what it was anymore. I’ve seen the layout for Annette’s Valentines Day thingie, and it rocks. So yeaaaaah baby. Ahhhhhhh Valentine’s Day. So not friendly to single people. Sure, I’m smart enough to see how crappily cheesy and commercial it is, but SO?

Tuesday 26; January, 1999

Ahhhh sweet nothing days. Bliss. Umm. Did I do anything today? Not really. Let’s see. Hmm. Nope, still nothing.

Simon’s friend Don was around for a while. He has really ugly tattoos and he’s a total slut too. Slept with so many chicks off chat. Lame lame lame. Chat’s lost all its thrill for me now – which is a good thing. Basically the only person I talk to on a regular basis on there is Andee, now that I’m living with Simon and Hulita is still overseas.

Clayton and his friend Lucy came around in the evening, and we watched some of the globes. Apparently, Layton is 25. Lucy warned me that Layton is boring, and that he’ll probably ask me out. Well, I don’t think that’s too likely, but oh great – a boring flatmate.

Anyways, I have nothing to say, sorry. Except the stalker was a silly girl called Tammie – go figure.

I’ve so got to get a job.

Friday the 22nd of January, 1999

Hoooly shite, 11 days. Goddam, how have y’all coped without me? Well, good news. I’m back now. Back to stay. Yeah. I didn’t miss IRC at all the whole time while I was travelling, just a couple of people off it. Mostly I missed my ICQ list, and my journal. It got to the point where I was lying awake hot summer nights, unable to sleep, writing out drafts in my head. That works out just great for you, because although you have missed ten days of my life, when I do finally get around to writing them, they’ll be astonishingly descriptive and poetic.

So yeah. This guy knocked on our door two minutes ago, and said he’d spotted our empty front room and was wondering if we needed a flatmate. We don’t. They’re moving in reaaaal soon. Clayton and Layton. Classy names huh?

Anyways, I will write soon. Later tonight. There is red wine to drink.

xoxoxo

Tuesday 12; January, 1999

Jo and I were waiting in the van outside of J’ville Mall for Mum to buy flowers for Oma, listening to @ctive 89fm (which isn’t half as cliched as it appears from that spelling). Because it was so hideously early in the morning, it was still the breakfast show (Felix wakes up djs and laughs at their houses), and they had a ‘classic track flashback’. We were SO estatic to hear ’3am’. I so so so wanna be the KLF. So that set us off in good spirits.

We had to stop off at Oma’s, so that she could give me some ‘travelling money’. I know, I know, I’m a spoiled brat. What am I supposed to do about it? It costs a lot to set up a new flat you know. And stuff.

Simon took ages to cram all his stuff into the cars, and he ended up leaving shit like his stereo with my mommy, so that she could bring it up two days later in the van-mobile. Jo got in the car with Simon’s momma, and I got into his car. We agreed to stop in Taihape for lunch, cos we figured that with his boyracingwannabe driving, we’d end up miles and miles ahead. We didn’t though, and had only 20 minutes to spare in Taihape (at the reject jean store). While in Taihape, our entronage reccomends the Brown Sugar Cafe for reaaaaaally good coffee and foodage. I remember the good old days (ie – before I went to Japan) when we used to have picnics during long road journeys instead of stopping in cafes. In fact, there weren’t even cafes – only tearooms. It’s so much cooler to be driving reaaaally fast listening to reaaaaaaaally loud music (even if ears do pop when windows are wound up – no air con in the honda accord) than sitting in the back seat feeling carsick like I used to. Did that make sense? I’ve just finished a bottle of wine so I hope so. This is all written post-humouressly by the way. Oh god, I wrote btw, but then had to erase it. That’s what nearly two years on chat’ll do to an otherwise nice girl. Annnnnyways………

So yeah, whenever we stopped and met up, it was a very joyous occasion for me and Jo. I’m not sure what the people in Bombay thought of two girls kissing (that’s not SNOGGING, sorry to disappoint). Oh well, I’m sure they needed it. She’d managed to charm Si’s momma into sharing the stereo, and they sat smoking away in the air conded mitsubishi as happy as Larry.

Simon’s mother had booked us into the Mount Eden Motel, on Balmoral Road. Shihad stayed there too, but I guess we’ll get to that a little later. We had to go to the shore to drop Jo off at Matter’s, so that was a laugh and a half. Then we had advacado on bread for dinner. Mmmmmm.

I got on the phone like really soon after we got there, and so Si and I headed up Mount Eden Road to Shirley’s house. Classy Classy place, so near town, but it’s $120 a week each for her and her sis which is a bit too much, so she’s looking for a new place. I’d love to live in her house, only we want somewhere that’s bigger than two bedrooms.

I was a trifle worried about where we were to sleep, since it was a one bedroomed unit. I mean, I’m grown up enough to not mind having to sleep in the same bed as a boy, or an older woman, BUT I hate sharing a bed at the best of times, and especially in sticky sticky hot summer. As it turned out though, it was semi-sweetass, cos I got to sleep on the sofabed in the lounge while Si and Si’s Momma did the Oedipul thing. Well, not quite. She SNORES sooooooo loud man. I fully couldn’t sleep.

Monday the 4th of January, 1999

Woke up

Picked up Charly from the airport

Had Lunch

Jo called

Went to see Jo

Went to Jo’s House

Went to beach

Went Swimming

I haven’t been swimming at the beach since I was ten.

It was choice.

Went back to Jo’s

Waited around

Drove Jo to David’s house

Realised it wasn’t his house

Went to the Right Street

Got stuck in his driveway

Spun the wheels and made lots of noise

Blushed

Drove forwards and then managed to back out

Sat in the sun listening to Jo and David

Dropped Jo off in town

Went Home with Charly (SCORE!!!).

Jo’s journal for today is a tribute to me. Maybe you could read that instead

Sunday the 3rd of January, 1999

So it’s a new year, so we get a new colour scheme. Possibly this purple is a little too bright for your tender eyes – do let me know. Okay. Onward ho. Do make sure you’ve downloaded my font too, okay?

I woke up around 10.30am when Karen came into the lounge (I was in the moonlight lounge remember?) and said Good Morning to her. She was fully suprised and was like “what are you doing here?” I replied “sleeping” and turned over and went back to sleep. Such a shocker of a McLeod answer huh?

Anyways, I got up properly at the far more dignified hour of 1pm, and explained to her that I’d been out with Anji. We went to have breakfast at the Krazy Lounge, which was nice, only I’m not a big fan of breakfast menus. Eggs and I are not on speaking terms, basically. But yeah, anyways. Mum and Neil came to collect me, and I went home.

Did I ever explain why I call my father ‘Neil’ ? Like, everyone always asks me, so maybe I’ll write it down here for you.

Once upon a time, way back in the early seventies, a man called Neil and a woman called Aimee had so much love for each other that the love formed a whole seperate baby that they called Angeline – or Angie (Anji now) for short. Angie watched her mother and father refer to themselves as “Neil” and “Aimee” so when she started to talk, she called them that too. Aimee and Neil made another baby out of their love, called Karen, who was basically just an Angie wannabe and called her parents the same names too. One day Angie started Preschool, and saw all her peers call their mothers “Mum”. Aimee helped out at the preschool, and all the children there called her “Angie’s Mum”. A lightbulb went on in Angie’s head, and she started to call Aimee “Mum”. Karen instantly copied her. Neil however, was not as involved in his children’s lives, so he didn’t have his name changed to fit in with their peers’ expectations. A few years later, Joanna came along, and mimicked her sisters. She got really tired of telling the story, and since she resented being moved to Japan and loathed her father for it, she claimed that was the reason he didn’t get called Dad. But it wasn’t really.

Gosh, that was a fun digression, wasn’t it? Anyways, where were we? Oh yeah.

The rest of the day was pretty boring. In the evening I totally hid out in my room because my aunt and uncle came over and they’re excrutiatingly boring. I was just sitting on IRC and stuff when Kate came online, and she was like “can I come over?” Of course I would have said yes, only up pops Simon with “come and visit me!!!!!”. So yeah, on the spur of the moment, we decided to make the hour long drive up to Waikanae. She told me that she’d be at my house in fifteen minutes, so I went to wait for her at my letterbox, foolishly not realising that she meant half an hour. Ah well. Eventually, we were on our way. In Johnsonville, she decided that we needed to get KFC, so we got burgers that were actually really yucky. The roundabout had its sprinklers going, so we drove around it like four times, shrieking when the water came in the open window. Ahhhh you crazy kids!

The drive out to Waikanae took a long time, and Kate’s driving is slightly scary, but that’s okay. It was amusing ‘cos she made me smoke a cigarette, and I realised that they taste like shit, even more so because I wasn’t drunk. So yeah, I don’t know what the moral of that story is. Smoking IS sexy though, even though it probably shouldn’t be. Most of the people I know smoke; it’s kind of suprising that I don’t. In fact, neither me or Anji or Karen smoke. I guess in Karen’s case, that’s not suprising, but both me and Anji dwell in what are extremely smokey societies. How Brady are we then?

Anyways. Kate and I decided as we drove along that we’d take Simon to the beach, so after sitting around for a while watching him play with his linux, and after making more arrangments with his momma for our exodus up north (she’s coming next week to help us flat hunt) we did just that. It was so dark walking through the trees barefoot, and then we had to scramble down sand dunes, but it was completly worth it. There was a full moon, and it glinted off the water something gorgeous. Further along the beach was a bonfire, but as it was midnight, it was completly deserted otherwise.

I rushed into the water, although Simon calling out a warning about blue bottles was a little spooky, as was the thought of Katipos. Kate rolled her pants up (I was holding up my long skirt) and came wading in too. It was so lovely and warm. It could have been so romantic if I’d been there with a guy, instead of two of my best friends. We splashed around a bit, after finally convincing Simon to come in – he’s such a big girl’s blouse sometimes. Kate gave me the fright of my life, sneaking up while my back was turned. I screamed so loud, it was crazy. I ended up totally soaked, which sucked a bit, plus I got sand in my open blisters, which wasn’t the best thing in the world, but it was soooooooo much fun!

We dropped Simon off back at his house then, and went to harrass the macdonalds staff at Mana. When we found out the drive through was shut, we drove through it like three times, sharks circling their prey. Meanies. Shit, that’s like three times Kate and I have played games with Maccers staff that they didn’t get. You’re terrible, Muriel. I swear to god, she’s just a bad influence!

Sunday the 3rd of January, 1999

So it’s a new year, so we get a new colour scheme. Possibly this purple is a little too bright for your tender eyes – do let me know. Okay. Onward ho. Do make sure you’ve downloaded my font too, okay?

I woke up around 10.30am when Karen came into the lounge (I was in the moonlight lounge remember?) and said Good Morning to her. She was fully suprised and was like “what are you doing here?” I replied “sleeping” and turned over and went back to sleep. Such a shocker of a McLeod answer huh?

Anyways, I got up properly at the far more dignified hour of 1pm, and explained to her that I’d been out with Anji. We went to have breakfast at the Krazy Lounge, which was nice, only I’m not a big fan of breakfast menus. Eggs and I are not on speaking terms, basically. But yeah, anyways. Mum and Neil came to collect me, and I went home.

Did I ever explain why I call my father ‘Neil’ ? Like, everyone always asks me, so maybe I’ll write it down here for you.

Once upon a time, way back in the early seventies, a man called Neil and a woman called Aimee had so much love for each other that the love formed a whole seperate baby that they called Angeline – or Angie (Anji now) for short. Angie watched her mother and father refer to themselves as “Neil” and “Aimee” so when she started to talk, she called them that too. Aimee and Neil made another baby out of their love, called Karen, who was basically just an Angie wannabe and called her parents the same names too. One day Angie started Preschool, and saw all her peers call their mothers “Mum”. Aimee helped out at the preschool, and all the children there called her “Angie’s Mum”. A lightbulb went on in Angie’s head, and she started to call Aimee “Mum”. Karen instantly copied her. Neil however, was not as involved in his children’s lives, so he didn’t have his name changed to fit in with their peers’ expectations. A few years later, Joanna came along, and mimicked her sisters. She got really tired of telling the story, and since she resented being moved to Japan and loathed her father for it, she claimed that was the reason he didn’t get called Dad. But it wasn’t really.

Gosh, that was a fun digression, wasn’t it? Anyways, where were we? Oh yeah.

The rest of the day was pretty boring. In the evening I totally hid out in my room because my aunt and uncle came over and they’re excrutiatingly boring. I was just sitting on IRC and stuff when Kate came online, and she was like “can I come over?” Of course I would have said yes, only up pops Simon with “come and visit me!!!!!”. So yeah, on the spur of the moment, we decided to make the hour long drive up to Waikanae. She told me that she’d be at my house in fifteen minutes, so I went to wait for her at my letterbox, foolishly not realising that she meant half an hour. Ah well. Eventually, we were on our way. In Johnsonville, she decided that we needed to get KFC, so we got burgers that were actually really yucky. The roundabout had its sprinklers going, so we drove around it like four times, shrieking when the water came in the open window. Ahhhh you crazy kids!

The drive out to Waikanae took a long time, and Kate’s driving is slightly scary, but that’s okay. It was amusing ‘cos she made me smoke a cigarette, and I realised that they taste like shit, even more so because I wasn’t drunk. So yeah, I don’t know what the moral of that story is. Smoking IS sexy though, even though it probably shouldn’t be. Most of the people I know smoke; it’s kind of suprising that I don’t. In fact, neither me or Anji or Karen smoke. I guess in Karen’s case, that’s not suprising, but both me and Anji dwell in what are extremely smokey societies. How Brady are we then?

Anyways. Kate and I decided as we drove along that we’d take Simon to the beach, so after sitting around for a while watching him play with his linux, and after making more arrangments with his momma for our exodus up north (she’s coming next week to help us flat hunt) we did just that. It was so dark walking through the trees barefoot, and then we had to scramble down sand dunes, but it was completly worth it. There was a full moon, and it glinted off the water something gorgeous. Further along the beach was a bonfire, but as it was midnight, it was completly deserted otherwise.

I rushed into the water, although Simon calling out a warning about blue bottles was a little spooky, as was the thought of Katipos. Kate rolled her pants up (I was holding up my long skirt) and came wading in too. It was so lovely and warm. It could have been so romantic if I’d been there with a guy, instead of two of my best friends. We splashed around a bit, after finally convincing Simon to come in – he’s such a big girl’s blouse sometimes. Kate gave me the fright of my life, sneaking up while my back was turned. I screamed so loud, it was crazy. I ended up totally soaked, which sucked a bit, plus I got sand in my open blisters, which wasn’t the best thing in the world, but it was soooooooo much fun!

We dropped Simon off back at his house then, and went to harrass the macdonalds staff at Mana. When we found out the drive through was shut, we drove through it like three times, sharks circling their prey. Meanies. Shit, that’s like three times Kate and I have played games with Maccers staff that they didn’t get. You’re terrible, Muriel. I swear to god, she’s just a bad influence! I have a classic quote from her, talking about her boyfriend Anton – “I’m so mean to him and he doesn’t even realise”!

Thursday the 24nd of December – Xmas Eve

If you have had reason to be in my address book, you probably recieved the above graphic already. If you didn’t, help yourself. Or if you just wanna PRETEND like I sent you an xmas card, go for your life, you tragic little puppy.

I’ve got three new people on my ICQ list now, and they’re all fanttttastic. Annette, Brooke and Heather. Go and visit their pages, and read their journals obsessivly like me. Except not Brooke’s, cos I don’t know whereabouts it is. But hey! She did the design for my “Frozen Lake” story so I love her anyways. (Instant friends with Vision!).

Today I woke up early (by my standards – ie before 11) and vaccumed, because Mommy had asked me to, and I’m a good little girl like that. What I didn’t vaccum, though I should have, was the floor under this desk, where Pixxie must have been playing with a bird, unless I’m malting feathers unawares.

I also made dessert – chocolate cake with lemon mousse inside it. I made a stencil and put pretty icing sugar stars on the top, and lemon zest. Someone should so marry me, man. Wow, that was a cool sentence. Double Alliteration. Mrs Turner would be so proud. Actually, all my English teachers, with the exception of Mr Mitchell and Mr Vigeland were proud of me. Mr Vigeland hated me because Beth and I always laughed whenever he walked past because he wore tight jeans and thought he was sexy. And Mr Mitchell knew I was smart but he also knew I thought he was a slack bastard, and that was the reason I did no work in his class (I still got an A for bursary though – but I guess I could have got scholarship if I’d ‘applied myself’ and hadn’t been on IRC all year). Annnnnnyways.

Granny came for dinner. I hid in here. Mummy was good to me, and gave brought me in a glass of bubbly. She understands how I feel, and so I didn’t have to resurface until dinner. Then straight after dessert, Karen rang, so I left to answer and never came back. I’m sure it’d be good to spend some time with her because, realistically, she’s not going to be around much longer. But I just have nothing to say to her, and I hate the way her false teeth move around in her mouth. So yeah.

The amusing part of the evening though was when I said something about Mum’s driving, and Leonie was sitting in the corner pissing herself, because she’d admitted to me that Mum’s driving terrifies her as well, only of course I couldn’t let on to that. So I sat there winking at her instead. It’s funny how I can get on with my aunts nowadays – like, as an adult. I HATED Leonie when she stayed with us for a couple of weeks back in Japan. My My, what a problem child I was (according to Mum anyways).

Amy stood me up for Midnight Mass. This makes her Brian. Happy Xmas and all that, people. Me, I’m going to be buried in stacks of pressies tomorrow. Or today even, given that it’s one am.

Thursday the 17th of December

So today, everyone’s favourite American President is killing civillians because he doesn’t want to be impeached. Don’t even TRY and tell me it’s a coincidence. I voted for him in the mock elections we held at school back in Seventh grade – yeah, like I’d choose Ross Perot or Bush. I didn’t think that having an affair would in any way make him not be a good president – unless he’s going to declare war like this to get the heat off himself. The thing is, I’m not an Iraqi, and I’m not American, so whatever’s going on ovre there really shouldn’t concern me too much, but it does.

UI moved to Japan right after the Gulf War, into an American based society. I didn’t really think the war was such a big deal, because I was only 10, and all I knew about it was the odd headline or 20 from the Evening Post, and those fireworks images from CNN, that TV One piped in especially. In Japan however, apparently there were major threats of terrorism, so much so that the school buses had the “American School In Japan” logo taken off them, and students were told to tell everyone they were Canadian. It’s a fucked up world we live in. Then at 2.30am today, just before I went to bed (yeah okay, I’m writing this entry the day after) I thought I heard the distant roar of air-raid sirens, but figured there was nothing I could do anyways.

Why the hell am I talking about all this crap? There’s so much today that’s my own life that I could talk about. It’s December 17th. Those of you that know me will know why I’m moping. Those that don’t can hang on for it while I get through my basic day.

I worked two hours at my aunt Leonie’s house this morning. I did some typing for her (her keyboard was too clacky, so I made so many hidi errors, not like on this speedy wee baby) made some changes to her address database, and started cateloguing her collection of Japanese books that she bought off my grandfather’s collection (other side of the family)for her Nakano group. All terrific fun of course. Luckily I’m getting paid $10 an hour cash.

That was probably about as ragey as I got all day. I spent a lot of time revamping my website, trying to use Dreamweaver. For those of you who didn’t spot it, there’s now an extra table of contents. And there’s a couple of new sections too, maybe. I spent ages trying to get rollovers to work. They worked first time when i was just playing,but now I want them they don’t. Ain’t that just typical? That’s okay, cos apart from hurting my wrist, it also managed to keep my thoughts off other things. I guess I should probably explain, huh? This day last year is when I lost my heart. And my head too.

I guess it sort of serves me right, cos I’d mainly started talking to him cos he was always so flirty in the room, and that made another guy I knew jealous, which is always fun. It got to the stage that I was talking almost exclusivly to him on IRC – I stopped going in rooms, and only messaged my girlfriends to tell them things he’d said to me. I was so fully smitten, I guess because people told me that he had a crush on me, and we were labeled as a couple even though we weren’t. The week before, on the 10th I’d gotten heinously drunk at my friend Amy’s house, and had come on IRC going “I looooooooooooooooooooooooooooveeeeeeeeeee you” (I only know this from reading logs of it) which was just disgusting. I managed to get away with that though, by blaming it on Amy and Fiona. But yeah, back the 17th. I was up late chatting to him, and talking to Andee too, when he made some sort of comment about how I didn’t want him to say that he loved me until we’d met. I started crying, being the sap that I am, thinking there was no way he could mean that in the way I wanted him to, but when I finally got up the courage to ask him about it like an hour later, it turned out that yes, he did have a crush on me. There was no way in hell that either of us wanted to have an internet relationship, so we were going to wait till we met at the Gathering (aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah you say, more pieces falling into place) to see what the story was. I stayed up all night talking to him then, only leaving because my dad was getting up in ten minutes. It was the most amazing glowing feeling, despite the fact that it was obviously a doomed situation. I’ve never had someone like me mutually before. The whole next day was bathed in gold. I couldn’t stop smiling. He made me the most gorgeous site for Xmas, with this picture on it that he made – featuring the glowing orb of the sunrise we saw together in different cities. Sigh. So sappy.

Of course, in the two weeks leading up to the Gathering, we had a big really stupid fight, and he also revealed that he was still in love with his ex, but aaaah well. There was still enough there for me to be scared shitless of meeting him. So yeah, and then he thought there was no spark, but he still came to stay with me, and I fell head over heels in love with him, and he just didn’t care. Maybe I should post the letter I wrote him. At the time, it was so important and special to me, but that WAS a year ago. I just like telling stories which is why you’re all hearing about this now. That and well – he is still sort of in my head, just because I still feel like it’s last year sort of, because I’m on holiday again. That’s okay though. It can be fun reminiscing. To quote myself:

Replaying the past is like having all these good (and bad) movies to watch, that you don’t have to go to the shop to rent so they’re heaps cheaper and slightly more interactive

Saturday the 12th of December

A funny thing happened last night. I was talking on ICQ chat to this guy, and my friend Brad from tech was at his house. Ho ho ho. No wait, that’s not the whole story! Come back!

So yeah. Anyways, Brad wanted a demonstration of what cyber was, and so I gave them a few lines – hey, i don’t do it, but I’ve got a great imagination! Kamahl was like “more importantly, is this how YOU like it?” so I was like “I should have sent you my erotic story after all, shouldn’t I?” and against my better judgements, they talked me into it. Hell, the story used to be on my old homepage anyways. So they sat there reading through it, while I was pissing myself, cos I knew what it’s about. I think it musta shocked the shit out of them. It’s a bit naughty – I’ve had so much fun with that story and morons off IRC – it’s my porn content. Anyways, they came back and were like “what on earth possessed you to write that?” I was like “autobiography”. HAHAHAHAHa. I think that’s like a thousand times more information about me than they’ll ever want to know. If you’re going to go and read that story, which no doubt you are now, be warned. Content may inspire nasty visuals.

I slept in until 2pm today, having very disturbing dreams. At one stage, my dad, Karen and I were building an nuclear bomb shelter in my room downstairs, not expecting to live past 9pm. That was kinda sad, and the dream was really scary, especially with like gail force winds screaming around my house at the time. I also dreamt I borrowed this amazing dress off Andee, made entirely out of Yellow daisies. It was fantastic. Then I was like Buffy or something, trying to solve this mystery, and this giant catipillar ate my friend, but it spat him out, because he was too fluffy. My friend was a smaller catipillar, that looked like a purple magic duster. By that stage, I was a catipillar too. I always get really weird dreams, for about a week, right before I get my period – if I can claim to be that regular. Which I can’t. Anyways, my point is that my journals over the next couple of days will probably be filled with dreams, so bear with me.

What else? Ummmm, I think I’m getting more involved with Vision, which is cool. I am so in awe at some of the people in it. I can’t quite understand why the fuck I got in, because I know sweetfuckall about html and all that funky shit. Ah well. Maybe I got in under a quota of ignorant people or something. It’s fun cos it means more people to talk to on ICQ, now that IRC is empty and boring. So yeah, rock on.

Tonight I went to see “Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels” at the Paramount with Anji. Loved it, love the theatre, love her. It was so funny. I just hate the way it’s been billed as “Tarantino meets Trainspotting”, even if that’s an accurate description. Can’t people come up with anything new these days? The main guy in it was really studdly too. Mmmmmm. And all of them had accents. Terriffic shit. After we went and sat in Axolotl, with a whole bunch of offduty staff. It’s everyone’s second home. Tommorrow is the staff Xmas party, and they’re having it on a yacht. Rock on!

I’m going to go now, cos tommorrow I’m Xmas shopping with Momma. Don’t forget to send me my pressies – if you don’t have my address, send them to: Joanna McLeod c/o The Bakehouse Gallery, Swan Lane, Wellington. Ta muchly!

xoxox