Hubris.co.nz

So apparently, according to everyone and also me, I haven’t been writing here very often. That kinda sucks. It means that my writing is pretty much restricted to stupid little snippets of everyday banter about what I’ve been watching on TV, or endless melencholy about people that have touched me (literally) that don’t get aired much. Well, maybe I can change that. I could write a bit long piece here, or I could publish dirty snippets that I must stress are not related to one another, nor are they chronological. Maybe I’ll do both.

For a nice guy who told me that he hadn’t had sex outside a relationship before, he still managed to fuck me in half a dozen positions, transitioning seamlessly between them.

Yeah! This is going to be fun. Plus this way I get to pretend that I’m still hot and desirable instead of sitting around wearing old jeans in desperate need of a decent haircut and some proper shampoo.

So, Jo’s life as of November 25th. Well. Still searching for the perfect job. Still not sure how she’s going to pay the bills. Still questioning the meaning of life. Making sure she takes her pills regularly every morning and never lets doctor&pharmacys fuck her around again so she ends up going ten days without them.

Other than that, what ho? Hmmmm. Sebastian went AWOL for eight days, causing me no end of worry. I pashed a hot boy who looked like he was from The Strokes, but he was British, and British boys NEVER come home with me. I don’t know what’s up with them. What’s up with you Brits eh? Are you all prudes? (Actually he had a girlfriend. Whoops). I need two flatmates. I moved my bedroom furniture around. I may move the lounge furniture around although now that La’s gone I no longer have a willing helper monkey. And that’s it. That’s all that’s happened to me in the past shit, nearly two months. Fuck.

So it doesn’t matter that he seems like he is a sexual deviant. It doesn’t matter that he rejoices in my hairy legs that he takes the time to rub his cock up and down. It doesn’t matter when he licks my armpits, or tries to fuck me in the morning when he’s still wearing the same condom. He is no one. He is nothing. It doesn’t matter.

I don’t have new things going on in my life which is kind of a problem given that I need constant stimulation to keep me going. I feel very out of the loop now that I no longer receive free movie tickets and cds. I haven’t left the house in ummmm two weeks to go anywhere but the shops. No work and no play makes Jo a dull girl. No work and no play makes Jo a dull girl. No work and no play makes Jo a dull girl. You get the general idea. So right now I’m trying to correct that, in the sense of downloading free mp3s from NZm to see if I can find a great new NZ band I can love and hopefully I’m going to a show tomorrow night. Must. get. out. of. the. house. Of course, all donations of mix cds, tapes, old books and magazines will be most gratefully accepted.

I also should be creating more than I am. Maybe I oughta do my portfolio site. In fact, there’s absolutely no maybe about that at all. A few more job applications wouldn’t go astray either. I’m bloody sick of rejection letters though. If only the dole paid about $50 a week more – or my flatmates were able to cough up for their bills instantly – life would be so much sweeter. I could go out! I could do things! Oh yeah, did I mention that my car is totally dead? That kinda sucks some ass too.

What I need I think is a makeover. Maybe the Fab Five could come over and laugh at my clothes (“you have HOW MANY bonds tshirts? and they’re all tight on your nipples like that?” “What are these shoes? Silver plastic? Are you from the Jetsons?” “Christmas lights? Tack city! And what’s with all the saris?”) and change my life. Already half the time I think I have Joss Whedon doing commentary over my life (“And in this scene, Jo’s watching TV. Again. The empty dishes piled at her feet adn the newspaper opened to the ‘Situations Vacant’ are there to really drive home the loneliness she’s feeling, while soon the demons she’s battling will come back cos we’ve cut off her cipramil”). I think maybe instead I need less TV in my life. But Heather Havrilesky is the best thing about Salon, and if I never watched TV again, how would I know what she was talking about?

His hands are on my head, pushing back my head to secure his view and to make sure I don’t move my mouth away. I can taste his tang and it’s all I want for now, all that I could ever want, but there’s a knocking at the door, and he says that it’s her.

Oh yeah, crack out the porn, Jo. I do think that I’d probably have a good career in Erotica writing. I just need to get me a laptop so I can be more savvy about it. How exactly does one become an Erotica Writer? Or rather, a Writer of Erotica Who Makes a Living out of it? Perhaps even An Erotica Writer With A Shiny Laptop AND an Aeron Chair? An Erotica Writer with a Shiny Laptop and an Aeron Chair Who Can Afford to go see Her Hairdresser Again And Fill Said Hairdresser With Accumulated Scandals and Gossip, And Who Can Also Find Another Pair of $30 Jeans from Farmers That Fit All Lovely Except That Now They Have Big Thigh Holes And Are Thus Rendered Useless. Yeah, that’d be sweet.

PS: my hubris mail went down for a couple’o days, so if you emailed me and didn’t get a reply, try again. Cheers.

We got back the videos of our seminars today (I got an A) so I’ve been watching that tonight. Bopa and Emma say it’s real good, and I’ve even heard Emma reiterating stuff I said down the phone to her friend, but my mind’s so not there. In between thinking that I gesture too much, and watching the pen slowly slip out of my hair, increasing my hair-pushing-back gestures, I’ve been thinking “fuck, no wonder no one’s shagging me” thoughts. There’s nothing like watching yourself on TV for confrontational thoughts. It leaves me contemplating how sometimes I think that maybe I should just become morbidly obese and give up all hope of anyone ever fancying me, but then watching myself on TV I feel like I’m already there. And I hate this, because this generally isn’t me – I don’t tend to talk weight very much in my journal because the last thing in the world that I wanna be is one of those verdana girls, but arrgh! You know, I’d like to think that I’ve always had a pretty healthy relationship with eating, May/June 2000 and the whole stress related thing aside, but maybe that’s just me trying to talk bullshit to myself, and suddenly the reason why I’m sleeping alone just makes so much more sense to me. ( And then there’s a boy who enjoys calling me fat and pretending it’s just his way of being straight up, and while I try to excuse it as him trying to find out what buttons to push to piss me off I want to scream “YOU CALLED ME BEAUTIFUL MOTHERFUCKER! WHY ARE YOU RETRACTING THAT NOW?”)

And the other thing that fucks me off is that I know how closely entwined my self esteem is to my stress levels, and I know that right now my stress levels are almost at boiling point (And I know it’s seldom that you read my journal, and you know that i love you, and that yes, I’m fucking worried about you now, and yes, it’s stressing me out a fuckload, but that’s only because I care so much about you). We won’t discuss that further, but I had a big talk with Joseph my lecturer today and luckily I got an extension on my last Com Strat assignment til Tuesday. That’s kinda relieving and stuff. Plus yesterday, I sorted out one of my issues – or rather the girl whom I’d very childishly not been contacting cos’o a spat emailed me (thank you so much for doing that, seriously) and we made cool. And I get to see my Katie this weekend (oh you know you’re ALL my katies, Kate, but in this instance I mean KateB) and that’s gonna be so excellent, as long as I don’t end up being overburdening.

I can’t remember what else I had to say. Probably not much. I’m due at work in less than eight hours, I should really go to bed. I’m really worn out (but if you’re reading this, please please know that I am ALWAYS here for you, and it’s not just you that makes me exhausted, and you’re not an unfair burden or anything, it’s just the way I feel, okay? and yeah, all that stuff which I know you already know). Plus 2 litres really isn’t as much as you’d think that it would be. But I took two herbal sleeping suplements so hopefully I can fall asleep real soon and then not have to spend tomorrow morning with my head under the covers trying to make the whole world go away.<!– I CAN’T HANDLE CARING ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE RIGHT NOW! like, there’s a primary, and a secondary, and a thirdly, and aaaaargh, and also, what the fuck’s wrong with me and where’s my compassion?) –>

Tuesday, June 13th, 2000

Fuck it’s cold! I wish I was back in the Lurve Tent. Yesterday Brad brought home a HEATER from his parents’ house, so I hung two sheets across the lounge to trap in the heat and make it more cosy, and it worked. Me and him and Clayton even all studied together in it to conserve warmth and stuff. It was cool. I actually even learnt a few things, explaining telecom stuff to Clay, which is just as well cos I ended up writing an essay on it today.

Yes, that’s right, I had my (fingers crossed) final exam ever today. And gosh, it was enthralling stuff. Me and Clay and Maree and Brad all wore scarves today, so we looked like a pack of scarfies driving in. No wonder the petrol station attendants laughed at me as I put $5 worth of petrol in the car Or as the attendant did it anyways. One day I will learn for myself!

But yeah, anyways, the xam was okay. I spent a great deal of thinking about Australia and about my upcoming birthday and about Dawson’s Creek and basically anything except the essays I was writing. Afterwards, we all went to London Bar, and I was really annoyed cos drinks were only $2.25 but I had my car so I could only have one drink. And then I started stressing out about money, and the lack of flatmate, and everything, and before you knew it, I was crying in the bathroom, but I guess that makes a nice change from feeling sick, so it was okay. Then we dropped Shirley home, and beat a swifty retreat home too, via Foodtown for wine and Wendys for dinner. Straight into the Lurve Tent, put the heater and TV on, and then Shirley and Jody showed up for Dawson’s.

So that was cool, having lots of people made it even cosier inside the tent. They stayed for Roswell too, so that was good. Actually, it was really weird watching it with a pack of analyzing girls. Kate M was pretty onto it though. And Jody was all like, understanding and shit, it was cool. She was very impressed to see the flat she’d seen so much of in my cd rom. Oooh, that’s right, it’s burnt now and handed in, wahoo! Now I just have a 15% report, and a 40% graphics assignment. Sweet as bro. Oh, and find a flatmate so as to cut down the bills. Maree rang me twice tonight while babysitting. I really really should cut off her privileges. Right now she’s having all the fun and support without the commitment – hang on, that sounds a tad familiar. Why buy the cow when you can sit on the horns for free?

Peter and Kate M were discussing my journal tonight at the bar, cos they’re both sometimes readers. Apparently, Kate M doesn’t like the fact that she gets the M put into her name, but I’ve known Kate B for like 14 years, so she’s been Kate to me for longer. I could call Kate M “Unpopular Kate” out of deference to Popular Kate H, but that’d sound nasty. And there’s already a Hairy Kate, and a Forni-Kate, so yeah, personally I think Kate M is better. Don’t you?

Oh yeah the other thing I did tonight was call up Andee, since she’d rung me yesterday but we hadn’t been able to talk for long since i had to study. Fuck, I love that girl so much! I had an awful lot to catch her up on, as you can imagine. She says the coolest shit, none of this namby pamby being nice like my other friends. Straight to the point, I ended up screeching my head off. She said she thinks Hugh is back in Hammy now – I am so going down there when I get back from Oz (FIVE SLEEPS MUMMY!) Other classic Andee quotes “fuck, Matt is so petty. I should email him!” which makes me laugh, even if it doesn’t you. I should really redo my quotes page in the whole blahblah section, since it’s like a year and a half old now, and not at all fresh and relevant. Boy oh boy it is cold. Wake up little toes! Time to take me to bed!

Well, my peppermint tea is stewing, so yes, I will write an entry now. It’s strange, I used to always love writing my journal, but lately it seems a tiny bit forced, like I have to assure people I am actually still alive, no matter what I feel like. I don’t like appearing to be unchipper, you see. However, I can play a bit part anyways.

I had a shitty day today though, lots of little things being dumb. It got better, but still. It rained on me lots as I was walking to the bus stop. Sure, I’m not made out of sugar and I don’t exactly melt, but still, until the weather in Auckland gets better, traffic problems will never be solved. Then two of my eftpos cards got declined when I knew there was money in the account. Then a floppy disk full of pictures I needed for my rom wouldn’t work. Then the email of them that Thomas sent me wouldn’t come through. Then I spent six hours working on my rom. Which is always enough to put someone in a bad mood.

But then Thomas and I had a really yummy dinner at Mezze, even if I couldn’t keep it down, and then went for drinks with James, which was cool. One day I will go back to the Occidental and try their raspberry beer. And the Playhouse was cool too. Burger King was less so. And of course it sucked that I had no money. I hate owing people money. Even if it’s someone that owes me anyway.

Did I mention that it’s going to cost $94 to get my car window fixed? Or that my warrant is due on Friday? Or that my doctor still hasn’t got back to me with my all my test results from the first round of blood, and none of the results from the second? Did I mention that I’m going to Australia in 12 days? I am so so so excited about that. I’m sure Kini would be terrified if she knew exactly how much I am looking forward to seeing her again. But first I must do three assignments and an exam and oh yeah I failed my mass com essay, no suprises there really. Also I have to write a speech for Shirley’s 21st, which will be fun, and get her a birthday present.

It’s probably just as well that I have so much to do or I’ll go mad after Friday afternoon. Damn, I just caught the last bars of “Fade Into You”. If I could hear that now, maybe that’d unwind me. Or perhaps I should play “No Suprises”. Maree and I were watching a Radiohead video on Sunday, and I remembered my soup and blanket complex: I want to take Thom Yorke home, wrap him up in a blanket, wipe his nose and feed him lukewarm soup. I always fall for boys who seem to need taking care of. I prefer taking care of others than taking care of myself. Damn I’m tired. Can we watch Roswell now please?

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

Friday the 8th of January, 1999
Penny and her boyfriend Graeme came around to see me this afternoon. He was like, old, and had a beard. Well, he’s 23 I think, but that just seems so old because in my mind, Penny will always be 15. He’s a navy guy too, and he was quite quiet. We showed him some of the drawings Penny did back in school of Ms Caldwell – naturally he was shocked. She’s a worry, man! Or she used to be anyways. It’s weird to think that she has a boyfriend now, because we were so single together throughout all of school.

In the evening, I went with Jo to a party in Te Aro. The house was up on a hill, and we had to park waaaaaay up the street because the road was so narrow and otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to park properly because I suck. The house was really cool, sorta half in the middle of renovations, but it was very styley. I had a glass of really yummy punch but that’s all I could have cos I was driving and it was leathel. So yeah, I was sober, which probably didn’t help much.

People were having such bullshit conversations, man, like “what do you think about about the pyramids”. God, three thousand years from now, will people think that the Sky Tower was built for religious reasons? I had to tune out of that conversation before I opened my mouth, so instead I zoomed in on a bunch of dishy guys. That was choice until they started talking about starwars. Am I just too cynical? Cos I swear to god, they were like getting turned on by the trailer for the new ones and shit.

Eventually I just went into this quiet room lit by candles and went and laid down on a sofa for like an hour, staring at a trippy screen saver. Then Reece, who was definatly my Eye Candy for the night, and this guy Jeremy who is friends with my friend Hulita, but who’s also in Vision, came in and started playing around on a music making thing. Yeah, good grasp of terminology there, Joanna!!! It was um some sampler& beat thingie or something. So they started playing techno on it, so I danced for a long time which was choice.

Yeah, that’s about it, eh. They were spinning some funky ass old hip hop in the red room, but there were so many Goths and boganny people that I didn’t know in that room. I’m sure goths are all nice as individuals, but they seem so set in their culture that I don’t belong to that they don’t strike me as being very approachable. You know what I mean? If you do, you’re doing bettter than me.

I shouldn’t drive around by myself at night, or space out and think. I’ve figured out too much about myself now, and I’m really not liking what I’m seeing. People have told me they like my journal because it’s happy – I guess that idea’s gone now. I’m so thinking of stopping doing this, or maybe starting up a second journal

Tuesday the 5th of January, 1999

I guess the fact that Oma rang me twice while I was still trying to sleep should have cued me into the fact that it wasn’t going to be a good day. At one I worked for three hours at Leonie’s, finally managing to finish cateloging all her Japanese books that she bought from my grandfather’s collections. How can one man have so many books? Have had, sorry. There’s a tshirt at the Markets that says “The man who dies with the most books still dies”. Mum wasn’t impressed when she saw it, for obvious reasons, but I had a good chuckle.

So yeah. After finishing work at four, I veged at home for a bit before Charly rang, wanting to be picked up from town. She said she’d hardly talked to Graeme all day that she’d been out with him, which I really think is a bit off, if she came to Welly to sort things out with him. So yeah. We had dinner and stuff like that. While she watched “Party of Crap” I came online and did a bit of work on my journal and stuff – I’m falling behind, sorry. (I know there are people that care, because I’m addicted to checking the stats page – which doesn’t make it go up). I’m so vain and self absorbed, it’s terriffic!

Anyways. Then we watched some more of the taped Glastonbury. Charly had the audacity to diss Nick Cave AND Jarvis Cocker. Some people wouldn’t know class if it ran them over in a green MG. I logged on to Ihug for her (since she doesn’t know how to log in, and she doesn’t have my password). I saw that the K Man was on, and I haven’t seen him for aaaaaages and I really really felt like talking to him, but Charly wanted a go, so I told him I’d talk to him in an hour. Sweet, cos he said he’d wait for me. So yeah. I went off and had a bath and shit (mmmmmmmmm rose oil and candlelight – that’s making me sound really seedy – oh well). And yeah, then after an hour, i went back into the computer room, bored and wanting to do my computery stuff, and she was like “oh, Graeme just came online” and she gave me OH such a sincere “Sorry”. So that just right royally fucked me off. I know that I’m too possessive about my computer, but she knew I hadn’t talked to Kamahl in ages, and that I have journals to do and I have people to talk to as well, you know? And I just have so little sympathy for her and the whole Graeme mess because she got herself into it. Okay, that sounds too harsh. It’s just that I know how fucking crap and pointless internet relationships are, and if there’s a problem, I’d rather talk it out than sit in silence and get on a plane and then sit in silence again.

Okay, so after that spew, what did I do? I was like “fine” and left the room, and went sulking into the lounge, where my parents suggested I go to town or something, since I couldn’t bring myself to kick her off my puter. So I did, rejecting the idea of going in my pajamas, so I had to throw on some clothes first. So yeah. I was so mad I was fuming by the time I got to town, so I’m glad I managed to drive okay. I went over a hedgehog before I realised what I was doing, but I think it was lined up between the wheels, so it should be okay. So yeah. I stopped into United Video, who tried to tell me that my prize was probably sent to Mount Roskill – bastards! Anji wasn’t at Axolotl, so I had a hot chocolate and talked to Kirsten and her friend Amber, who was really cool and we instantly got chatty. Then as I went to call Anji, I heard someone call out my name, and it was Nicola! So yay, I talked to her for a while, after finding out Anji was in bed. Although we email and talk on the phone occasionally, I haven’t seen her since Onslow ended. She was looking SO styley. Great hair. We’d sit in Economics talking about our hair all year long. No wonder I had to learn the whole course in a day long mass cram with Kate. We ended up getting exactly the same mark too, which is kinda amusing.

Anyways. So I walked back to the car, and bumped into Siobahn, who invited me and Jo to come out and play on Saturday Night – YAY since I’m going back to auckers on Tuesday. Mmmm. I got back to the car, and put Little Earthquakes on, which probably wasn’t a very smart idea at all. It came in right at ‘Tear in Your Hand’ and I suddenly got very melencholy, singing my heart out, and I just wanted to keep driving and driving, so I decided to take a long way home. Then of course, it was ‘Me and a Gun’ which made me cry. I mean, I’d been worked up enough as it was, but well, that song……. I was driving along feeling really really bad, when suddenly I felt something go bang, like I’d hit a dog or something. That completly freaked me out, and I started bawling, but I couldn’t stop because there was a car right behind me. As soon as I could, I turned around and went back, but I couldn’t see anything. I was so blubbering my eyes out, at the thought of having just killed an innocent animal and a beloved family pet. I was so freaked out that I’d go back and find a wounded animal and it’d look into my eyes accusingly as it died, but I couldn’t see anything. Then I remembered that there’s a big hole in that stretch of road, and that was probably what had shaken the car. I was so worked up by that stage that I just stopped the car in the Ngaio library carpark, and after checking the front of the car for blood, I cried my eyes out. Then I really wanted someone to talk to, so I drove past Kate’s house, but I couldn’t see any lights on, so I went on home.

I snuck into the house so quietly because I really didn’t want to talk to Charlotte, but she was waiting up for me. No sooner had I crept up the stairs than she told me that her and Graeme were all over (no duh). I mean, I do feel bad for her, and I’m a terrible friend and all, but honestly, there’s like nothing I can do. So I talked to her about it for a bit, and leant her a teddy bear. She didn’t ask me where I’d been or anything, so I don’t feel quite so bad.