Hubris.co.nz

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tuesday September 11th, 2002

Grr students and interviews and mentors and work and grr and grr and grr. GRRRR! Grrr $218.42 to get the phone reconnected. Grrrr going to work where Terri was also having a bad day. GRRR at ANZ. Grrrr at the HR lady calling me Love and then saying that no, they still hadn’t made up their minds. Grrrr at the memory of the dead mice in the cupboard. Grrr at dynamics that just don’t work. Grrr at the mean receptionist at my doctor’s who told me that Dr. White refused me a new prescription but didn’t say why (yeah, like I can afford $50 for another consultation right now – if my blood pressure is raised, it’s her fault!). Grrr at thousands of clippings to do, adn then GRRRR at problems with avmed stuff. Grrrr at getting rained on the way home. Grrr at Clay being sprawled out on the couch watching some stupid movie when I just wanted to be alone. Grrr at hearing Kara while i was hiding out in my room, rereading the Blind Assassin for the trillionth time. <!– homage mode: He follows her into the empty room, concrete floor bare except for the mattress, piled with messy sheets and pillows.  When she sits on the windowsill, he pushes her against the glass and kisses her intensely, until they move to the mattress. When her moans that she had never heard before have subsided, he tells her his tragedies, and she kisses him every time words fail her. You intrigue me he says, I feel like you’re holding me at a distance.  And she can see his eyes casting around her room, trying to find some clue to her, but there’s nothing, nothing but her Blind Assassin poster on the back of her door.  What’s that about, he asks, pulling her in tightly to his chest.  It’s about lovers who lie in bed telling each other stories, she laughs.) –>

But they went out, and I drifted in and out of conciousness as I have been doing a lot lately, and then I got up to eat spinach soup and watch Buffy. KateM came over half way through it, and asked a lot of questions, but she’s allowed to cos she’s cool. Oh, and I finally got my invitation to Justin’s party, so I can put that slab’o paranoia aside. After KateM left, I ran around my room trying on various clothing combinations. Fuck I need a needle and thread. The slit at the back’o my black dress has split basically almost up to my slit, so I won’t be wearing that tomorrow (eww, did I just use the word “slit” instead of “vagina” or even “panties”? Dirty). Tomorrow is, of course, our industry evening where we all try to impress PR bigwigs and get jobs. I debated wearing my cleavage top, but it doesn’t cover the hole in my bright pink skirt which I really wanna wear, so I think I will stick with my stretchy black skirt, providing it dries in time, damn excess soap powder, and my boots, of course. I figure standing at least 6’1 is one way to make an impression.

Oh, and what with today being you know, THAT anniversary, kinda, except a day ahead, it also means that today it’s also a year since I started taking the everlovely fluox. Of course, I stopped in umm February I think, but I still think it was like an important anniversary for me, cos that was such a fucking hard thing for me to do, and it of course kicked off my whole “why can’t I feel anything? maybe I should have another drink or some more cock” phase. Fun times. And I lost someone I cared about. And etc. Oh inncidently, I think I still have about a month’s worth of fluox, which I’ll trade anyone for a month of estelle35, or some more straight codeiene. I also have voltarin and brufen and maxolon, in case you too have excessive nausea. I like my pill drawer, although most of the pills in it don’t do anything, but some of them, like the brufen and the fluox are pretty colours, and it makes me feel like I’m some late sixties housewife.

Thursday September 5th, 2002

I’ve had whispers of conspiracy theories going on in my head, which really serve just to demonstrate what a paranoid paranoid paranoid girl I am. Nevermind.

Hmmm, what have I been up to lately? Working yesterday afternoon, but Terri was out sick, and Bridget’s away for a month (dammit, I nearly called them by their real names) and I didn’t have very much to do and I couldn’t move further without help from Terri, so I did do some more work on my zine. It’s nine pages long now, but I figure I have to make it at least 16 to make it worthwhile doing, and I’m finding that really, there’s not all that much more I can write. I’ve already outsmutted myself, I think (oh, for those of you who’ve just tuned in, my zine is called “BOYS BOYS BOYS BOYS BOYS”). Still haven’t found out if I got the job yet or not. It’s stressing me out more than just a little bit.

I was naughty and wagged my HR Tut this morning, but luckily it turned out that it was canceled anyway. Joseph was more than usually disturbing in our PR Practice tut, so Haley and I ever-so-grownuply wrote notes to one another, mostly about DiscoDan and I think I caught her up on my conspiracy theories and she just laughed at me. She also wrote me a note saying that I should tell Clayton she thinks he’s hot and that he should give her a call if he ever breaks up with Kara. I laughed. Oh, I’ll interrupt me with this side story here – Clay is a little grumpy with me tonight, cos he was telling me a story about this guy who tried to pick him up on the bus, who kept quizzign him about his background and what school he went to and stuff, and so when Clay told him, they tried to compare names of people they knew from there but they had no one in common, so Clay went “oh, but I know (umm forget his name) from Queer Nation”, so in the retelling of it I was like “oh of course Clay – all gay people know each other and they all watch Queer Nation” and so he’s shirty with me for accusing him of stereotyping, but oh well. Typical self loathing!

Anyways. Where were we? Oh yeah. So after our very long plenary meeting, Haley and I went to the Playhouse cos we thought we mighta been meeting the fashion students for an interview, but we weren’t sure cos Haley had sent out the email and not checked it recently (grr!) but they didn’t show, as I kinda expected, so we just had a drink and did much gossiping instead. Then I went home and phoned Momma, and booked plane tickets to Wellington. Yes, I’m going back there, even after declaring loudly many times to many people that I never ever wanted to again. Here’s why:

1. Ayna had invited me to her birthday party on the 18th of September.
2. We’re having a PR social down there to meet and greet (and apparently get leered at) by prospective employers.
3. Mummy and Daddy are going away for a week on the 19th, so I will get the house to myself, plus since I’m flying down on the 18th, I will get to see them for a day,which is probably all I can handle of them.
4. Karen and Anji and my KatieB and my FattySi are all down there and I miss them all and wanna hang out with them big lots.

So now I just have to get the time off work, or rearrange my days somehow. Luckily I do have a day in lieu up my sleeve.

This evening James picked me up and I went to see the team named “Stupid Horse” play indoor netball. It was fun! And it made meeee wanna play, although I haven’t since the glory days’o Standard 4. I have no doubt that I would suck at it – a lot. But still. Oh and Kate – I didn’t say this tonight, in fact I didn’t even think of it, but then I was watching Juice, so guess what? TEHEHEHEHEHEHEHHE. Love you baby.

Bo is still staying at her aunt’s, babysitting her cousin, so I rang her earlier today cos lord knows I can’t go three days without her ray of sunshine in my life. I’m so glad she moved in. Speaking of people that I like, have I said lately that I miss you? And I miss you. And you.

I have been having major crazy dreams lately – last night’s involved the cast of Home and Away, and a supervillan who was placing poisonous evil nasty creatures everywhere. It was fucked up. And oooh, I also dreamt about Amy and Andeee, so I really must give them a call sometime. I have a lot of catching up to do, I’m really quite slack huh?

Thursday August 22nd

If the phone rings one more fucking time, I swear I am going to hurt someone – but of course, I’m on the net, so HAH, it can’t ring. Take that, motherfuckers. I’ve taken to barking “THEY’RE NOT HOME” every time it rings now, since it’s both Clay and Bopha’s birthdays and the phone has been ringing nonstop and it’s always Clay’s horrible family members. If I wanted to be a receptionist, I would not have spent three and a half years getting multiple qualifications. I probably would have dropped out in sixth form.

So, today is Thursday and the last day I wrote was Monday, so I guess I should feel obligated to fill you in on my week. After all, you’re still my captive audience even if I haven’t heard from you in forever – well, I’m guessing that I am, and if you’re not reading this, then you won’t be able to let me know that I’m wrong, so really, it’s a win-win situation, kinda but not really. But anyways.

Tuesday: I had to get up earlish to get my ass over to Newmarket where we went to Westfield’s Nuffield Street Project’s headquarters to listen to their communications woman talk about their public consultation programme and how successful they have been and how they’ve scaled back the “mega mall” project they were gonna implement, so that was kinda really interesting. Then everyone had to hop it back to campus for Human Resources lectures, and then I went to the library to start looking up my hypothesis – “HR communicators need to have a thorough understanding of the implications of Sick Building Syndrome in order to protect their workers”. This is a reminder once again, children, that you should go to classes in order to avoid the lameass topics (not like i did today). After that, I had coffee with Thomas (because just between you and me, I do still worry about him, and also because it’s cool we’ve got to a stage where I can send him text messages going “BOYS SUCK” and he will text back offering to beat people up for me). Later that evening, after much wardrobe fretting, Haley picked me up and we went to our client’s hat shop opening in Kingsland. I managed two and a half glasses of bubbly and conversation with an ex-lecturer (“that scary guy is still looking t you! he’s giving you the glad eye!” – haley) before Haley had to go to work and I had to go and meet Jezza and Renae at the pub for quiz night. There, tragedy struck – I realised I didn’t feel like drinking! Shock horror, and so consequently, we didn’t win. It felt dirty and wrong and soiled.

Wednesday: Hmmmm, I almost had a total memory blank here, but then I realised that Wednesday was yesterday, so in that case, I can remember. Half a day working, doing name badges and other such things, making sure that our big major event next Saturday is going to go smoothly. I was also told that I’ve been shortlisted for Terri’s position and will probably have an interview on Monday or Tuesday. Gulp. I also spent my time emailing KateH and asking her to make the final decision on an issue for me – BradM told me to ask (one of) the boy(s) I fancy out for coffee, while Jezza says that that particular boy isn’t interesting enough for me and I need someone with more spark – but she claimed she’s too much of a fence sitter. Inncidently, when I say I wanted her to make my decision for me, that’s not actually what I meant. You may or may not know that the way I work is that I make my mind up about something and then canvas opinions from my entire social circle until I find someone who agrees totally with me and then I get to use them as like, my expert witness. We all went out to dinner (like, twelve of us) at the Canton Cafe in Kingsland for Clay’s birthday, cos we’d finally managed to get a booking, adn we made it our mission to last there for at least an hour – it was almost two before dinner was finished. The food there is SO GOOD. But the company was real wack. Leo kept trying to get me drunk (cos sure, that’s hard) and I could see KateH and Jezza discussing me over the other side of the table, wheras Morrison was even less subtle with her appraisal of the particular boy that KateH and Jezza were appraising (their verdict – perhaps a change from the usual drama boys would be healthy for me). I like lazy susans. I also like all the food at Canton. I ended up paying $20 as my share of a feast, which included the rest of us paying for Clay and Bopha both in honour of their birthdays, and a $10 tip. Good good good value. It’s funny though, that Clay’s friends are all cheap and don’t bring their own wine, wheras all of my friends did. After that, we got taxis and went and danced and danced and danced at Retro. I got shirty cos of course goddamfuckingKara put her handbag down in the middle. I HATE DANCING AROUND A MOTHERFUCKING HANDBAG! DO I LOOK LIKE I WEAR WHITE PANTS? Grrr. Anyways, eventually we all went home, and since he’d been flirting iwht me hardcore all night and everyone was whispering “there’s definitely chemistry” to me, I decided to sort things out once and for all with the boy. When we were standing outside my building by ourselves, I said “Pop quiz!” to him, and he was all “umm, okay.. I dunno if I’m good at these” so I said “it’s a simple yes/no question” and he said he could do that, and so I said “are you at all interested in me?” and he was a little taken aback, but he said no, and I said that was cool, and he was like “wow, that was out of the blue (OH REALLY? ARE YOU A FUCKING MORON?) you’re really straight up, aren’t you? That’s really cool” and then Clay came up so I just laughed and reiterated that it was cool. I did end up calling Tom to talk about it later though, because hey, no one likes rejection. Especially rejection that makes you feel like you’re totally not fanciable by anyone. If I want to make myself feel better about it, I can think that maybe it has something to do with the fact that I ruthlessly shagged his best friend the night we all met (oh yeah, cos thinkign about that stage’o my life always makes me feel better). Meh. At least I’m not wasting anymore time on him, and he’s cool enough that hopefully, we’ll still be cool.

Thursday: that being today, of course, was making yoghurt&peach cake for the flatties, more work, and too many goddam people ringing this evening for Clay and Bo. I got to see Emma this afternoon though, which was choice, cos I’d just been thinking about her before I got home. And I wanted to have a catchup chat with both KateB (who was just on her way out) and Anji (except she texted to say she was out to dinner with the whanau) so I didn’t talk to anyone. But I might go have telephone conversations now, and so that will be good. I have a big meeting at work tomorrow to discuss all the final details for this big event, so I guess I gotta get to bed at some decent hour so as to be able to cope with the things I gotta do.

Friday August 2nd

Okay, so before i fall out of my chair and pass out on the floor, here’s the story – here’s the correct deal that any’o you could have just got out of me by simply asking, and here’s my interpretation of what happened. You know how a couple’o days ago I cut Justin off my Xmas Card List (this is not an actual thing in existence, it’s purely a metaphorical creation)? And if you know that, you know it’s of course because he had drinks last friday and didn’t invite me, not even when I texted him that day and asked him waht he was up to and he didn’t reply and as both a Gemini and a Communications student, nothing pisses me off more than peoplke who don’t reply to txts? Well anyways, I heard from sources about his party, of course, because um, hi, do you know know by now that that’s the way girls work? But anyways. So I figured he hadn’t invited me to his party cos he thought I’d mack on all his friends (and so maybe there’s some degree of truth to that) and then when I found out that the last friend’o his that I shagged was back with his ex girlfriend that he was with before he shagged me (but not while he shagged me, nor for any immediate period before then, thank you very much) and I figured maybe Justin thought I’d like, embarrass that boy or something so he just wouldn’t invite me outta decency. And of course, there were also “maybe Justin just flat out hates me” thoughts but they didn’t last very long. But anyways, then tonight me and Maz and Bo were in the cab on the way to KateH’s party, and Maz was like “not to give you a complex or anything, Jo…” and she told me that Justin had been all hesitant to tell them that the boy was back with his ex and stuff, and they were all worried about telling me and I was all “WHAT THE FUCK???? If i had been after him in any way, I ouldn’t have left while he was sleeping plus I woulda put my number in the note I stuck in his letterbox after! AAAARGH I don’t fancy him, I just have a guilty conscience!” and Maz was liek “yeah that’s what we told Justin” and Iw as like aaaaaaaargh I don’t LIKE the boy, I just gave him a lotta mind time cos I thought he was a sweetie and I wondered if I shoulda got to know him better, and Maz and Bo were like “don’t do this, don’t get a complex” and I was like “i’m not!” but anyways, as soon as Justin showed up at the party I was liek “oi you! and I gave him an earfull and he was like “Ummm?” and said that what had actually happened was that when I sent him the text on friday, he actually received it while he was in a car with the boy in question and was like “oh, is it okay if I invite Jo tonight?” and the boy started freaking out and continued to do so for three days, cos like I think we first said, he’s just back with his girlfriend, and somehow I very much doubt that she knows about him fucking me like I was a pornstar in the middle of it. So yeah, Justin and I cleared all that up. I am a little hurt though, that they could think I’d be so unsubtle or anything like that to cause a ruckus – I’d only do that to people I don’t respect, and i do very much respect thsi boy, because like I’m sure I have said before, he was probably the nicest boy I’ve ever been to bed with, even if we didn’t actually have a Connection (and this is not a diss on you; I’m sure you wouldn’t call yourself ‘Nice’). And anyways, the boy ended up showing up at the party and I watched him in the hallway for a little bit, trying to be discreet in checking him out and thought “hmmm, he actually IS really cute and actually DOES look like Milan” and then later when I walked past him I said hey, and he said hey, and it was all cool. So yeah, that was the drama and scandel. did you manage to follow ANY of that? I don’t care if you didn’t; I’m quite happily quite stoned.

Today was 9-5 at work, which is always difficult, especially since Terri had started at 7am, which meant she left at 3pm, so Bridget and I were left going “ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm” all afternoon. But I did do an interview AND write a profile today, plus now I can tell you all about the causes of hydronatraemia and who of you else can claim that? I also went to ask the HR lady about the job I’m applying for, and was liek “oh, right, good, I do have the right person – I’m terrible with names and faces”. Nice one Joanna, way to apply for PR jobs. Really, no, seriously, excellent way to influence people is by pointign out your foibles.

Hmm, foibles, does this mean that i have to talk about those godawful muppets taht I had to talk to for like half an hour who kept referring to me as a crackwhore cos Clay and Bobobo did? I hope not. In fact, I know not, cos like, I so would like to go and jump into bed where it’s real nice and warm. well actually, it’s probably cold in my bed, goddamit I need an army of flying monkeys to make me a hottie and find me some socks adn all taht stuff. Where were we? I’m just like, all OH MY GOD THERE’S BETH ORTON ON THIS MP3 cd. And that kinda thing. Something about Mazzy being hot in her hot little red dress even though sips of her bourbon remind me of *III, or even the massive quantities of bourbon I would drink with him because it was part’o the whole fucktoy/rockbottom process. And definately something about how fucking choice KateH is, and how she looked reaaaaaally hot and flamenco tonight, and also what a pleasure it was to finally meet this Amy that I’ve heard so much about. Ummm other things – like, who the fuck actually drinks Creaming Soda? And Jezza going on a massive hunt to find a lighter, and then us smoking around the picnic table in KateH’s backyard and me feeling unspeakably guilty for doing so, and then being back in her kitchen where I spent the night going “OH MY GOD” cos Like, everyone fucking knew my name and could tell me where they’d met me before and what conversation we’d had, and that always makes me real para, and then I spotted that boy in the hallway and I had to point him out to Clay and clay was like “he’s real cute and hot” and I was like oh my god please hurry up and come out and dump your girlfriend.

Dear lord, there should be some more paragraph segmentation here, surely. Other things’o note? Bopha kept calling em a crackwhore, and okay, so maybe the stripper story was case and point, but THAT’S IT. At the start’o KateH’s party, we just sat in a corner going “grrr” at each other and wondering what would happen if she went and sat on people’s laps and said “chicachehooo” at them. I love Bo. And umm, oh I talked to this boy that I’d thought was kinda ncie and well dressed and good looking and nice to me and laughs at my jokes and stuff so I’d kinda thought “hmm maybe” about, but it was too hard to sustain a conversation, and plus, I think I’d decided this week that I was really into this other boy and yeah, so like, that’d be cool and shit, except he was supposed to come but he didn’t. Still, I think that there was like, enough scandal and mania going on anyways, and you don’t even know the half of it. Also, my eyeshadow looks fuckign kickass today, as does the rest of me.

Okay man, like, $3.25 in coins and head to whomever brings me salted snacks first. It was just one joint, motherfucker! It shouldn’t show up under all this beer. Jezza and Nae are real funny when they’re stoned though. That’s all I have to say. Tomorrow I may or may not get a network and Sunday I gotta do coursework, so that’s ass sucking, but like, only figuratively and only on Sunday, cos like, how fucking 2000 are you?

Tuesday June 11th

So I was meant to be able to say one down, three to go, but I’m still not entirely sure. And then maybe it’s a different one down, or none at all. Meh.

Bops asked Emma to move out this morning, and she totally understood, and was perfectly lovely about it, so it’s all good, we’re on excellent terms and she’s still gonna come and hang out all the time, so I’m happy. Everyone needs their space. And I didn’t have to be too much of the bad guy.

Then I went to Newmarket to have lunch with JeremE, so that was cool cos I hadn’t seen him in a while. It wasn’t that sunny outside, but my shoes were feeling really comfortable so I walked home, and I’m so glad that I did, because it was a really really nice walk. I just laughed lots when the wind nearly blew me over. Also, because I was passing, I went into work to see about my pay which hasn’t gone through (ha! call me a procrastinator will you?) and Terri said she’d chase it up for me and told me when she first started hers hadn’t gone through for a month. Eeek. Other highlights of my walk included kinda passing by where *IV lives, and I was really hoping I’d bump into him, but I didn’t, so oh well. (And no, that’s not me being a stalker because as has been previously stated, he lives right next door to my place’o work, thank you very much).

So I went home and discovered that Bopha had been drinking coffee all morning, as had I, so we were both completely mad and screamed a lot and she did some breaking and also some Kung Fu poses with her pom poms to Pluto before she completely crashed out (Have I mentioned lately how good all of redlightsyndrome is? It’s FUCKING good. Go buy it). I crashed out with her cos she has smurf pillowslips and did my best to drive her mad with a continuous loop of “Bopha what should I do? _ or _ ? or _? Or blah blah blah rah rah rah it’s all about me and Tom says _ but KateB would say _ and I can’t go with my instincts because I don’t know what my instincts are” until she threatened to steal my cellphone, get all the necessary numbers out of it and sort my life out for me. I actually kinda wish she would. Other people got text messages or emails with the same whinings contained within, only more abridged. Online now, Tom’s like “What would CJ do?” because I think we all know that she’s my role model (You know, CJ from the West Wing. I want Allison Janney to play me in my movie, so she’s gonna have to not get any older. I see myself as kind of a cross between CJ and the whitetrash lady she plays in ‘Drop Dead Gorgeous). But I don’t we can deal with it all this way. Ahhh my life is so trivial and silly. It’s great.

Bopha was gonna get up and go to Rasoi and was trying to tempt me to go with her, but ultimately she was too lazy so I made potato curry instead, and then Emma showed up to get us to go listen to Will spinning at Brazil but then she stayed for curry and oh my god they both went on about it so much. Apparently my Indian Potato Curry is the meaning of life and it tasted like it was cooked with love (“maybe that’s because I haven’t stopped talking about boys all fucking afternoon although love hasn’t entered the picture” – “if that’s the case Jo, you should always be thinking about boys when you’re cooking”). I stacked the kitchen (although it’s messy again now, damn Kara) and took the recycling out, and changed my bed linen because I was feeling domesticated. And now I’ve been spending far too long online, so I oughta get. I’m disturbed though – no one’s emailed me so far to ask for my address to send me birthday presents. Does that mean that you all already know where I live or what? I mean, think about how much I give to you each day with this journal. Really. Don’t you think it’s time that you gave something back? (And could I fish any more? No I really don’t think I could. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to give myself a nice hard slap). Also, Daddy has booked me a ticket on the 3rd to fly down to Wellington, so he is cool.

Thursday June 6th

Bed gets harder and harder to get out of in the mornings as it gets colder and colder. Bopa and I had breakfast in Grafton together, excellently cheap donuts and Atomic coffee before I went to work, a little bit late, but the big boy Bridget wasn’t there anyways, so it didn’t matter. Hmm, I just typed ‘boy’ but I meant boss. I’m a dick. Also, do you know who else is a dick? HORRIBLE MOOCHER GIRL. Grrr. I’m getting veeeeeeeeeery annoyed with our houseguest. Last night I missed a top secret but very important meeting because she had gone out and parked me in, and then I thought she’d come back any minute now, but of course she didn’t. I really need to say something to Bopha about it, but the thing is Clay wants her gone just as much as me, and I really don’t see why I should always have to be the fucking bad guy. Clay should get a fucking spine. Hmm, I was actually in a really good mood until just now too. But maaaaaargh – I mean, it’s fair enough to be pissed off after someone’s been in your house for four weeks without any indication of when they’re going to leave, right? I mean, this is a pretty small apartment.

But anyways, brighter happier notes. Trying to get gossip out of Justin about yourself is like trying to squeeze juice from a nonjuiceable thing, which is funny given how much he’ll tell you about everyone else not pertaining to you. I have things on my mind, semi guilty conscience and stuff, but not really – I feel bad for not being as sweet to someone as he was to me, but according to Justin, it’s all cool, so that’s cool, and yeah, end of story.

My wrists have been really really really clicky lately. I’m sure I heard Natural Ange recommend something for that – Silica maybe? or Zinc? I dunno, but that’s what I should be taking. Also, less wanking would probably help too. And plenty of other things. I should try and find the other poi that Jacinta made me, but I fear it has gone the way of my sneakers and vanished into thin air somewhere in limbo between Auckland and Wellington. Hmm, i keep going to hit tilda funny key cos I use a mac at work, but that doesn’t work here. Anyways. Okay, it’s becoming pretty obvious that i don’t have much to say, so I should talk about my birthday instead.

Hi, I’m turning 22 on the 17th of June. You can find my birthday wishlist here. You should send me stuff – if you email me I will give you my address; who knows, it could be the start of a beautiful friendship (I can give you references on that one). I’m going out for dinner to somewhere cheap and BYO for dinner on my actual birthday – and the best bit is that since Clay will be away then, I don’t have to invite Kara – muhahahah, so it’s just going to be my closest nearest and dearest, cos massive dinner parties are a little scary, and then having a (not hyped) party on the 29th, after exams, to which you’re all invited, assuming that either A) I know you, or B) you know my address and aren’t intimidated by my friends. Cool. My friends aren’t really that scary, even if they are a little protective. Maree came around this evening, and it was lovely to see her, even though she didn’t share her meat (I’ve eaten too much bread today and I’m craving proteins. This could also be related to me being midcycle, I think (and a quick check of the old pillarooni packet confirms it (I hope my previously good blood pressure hasn’t gone up drastically over hte past couple’o weeks))).

You know, if that last sentence had been a maths equation, it would have been fucking hard. Oh and one other thing – I fixed the links on all the pages to my photo directory – it should have always been /cam not /photos.

It’s back to the good old student tradition again whereby you have to miss all your actual lectures to stay at home and write your essays. I mean sure, there are probably more efficient ways for me to work, but i DO have to have frequent breaks. I didn’t do all that posture studying and physiotherapy for nothing, you know. Of course, the stress of the essay exagerates the pain and ache. Arrgh.

I offered Clay $5 to finish my essay for me and he just laughed at me so I offered him head and he said “now you’re speaking my language”. And yet I’m still writing my own essay. I think right now I’d probably give head for a really good arm and back and shoulder and neck massage. I’m worried that I’m going to have too many words and not enough source material for my essay. I’m also worried that amybe I haven’t completely understood the question, so I really should have been one of those typical horrible ‘mature’ students who sit at the front and ask a million fucking annoying questions until someone at the back of the lecture hisses “shut up!” because at least then I’d know that I was on the right track. But I dunno. I’m counting on the fact that my lecturer looks like the guy on the Wendys ads (the NZ Dave, not the dead one) and the fact that Wendys cures my hangovers and somehow those two facts will connect and result in me getting an A.

Eventually after I’d been working so hard I rewarded myself with a really loud orgasm cos it’s fun to be noisy sometimes and plus I thought I was home alone, but then when I went out of my room, Kara was sitting at Clayton’s desk pretending to be studying. She was embarrassed; I wasn’t. Later she asked me how I was and I said “really really excellent thanks” and smiled at her and she blushed. I was annoyed that he’d obviously left a key out for her though, or that she’d climbed in his window. It’d be nice if my house was just for me.

This evening I was watching ‘The Strip’ and feeling ill from eating too much Pad Thai with all the chilli flakes mixed in, when KateM rang my cellie. We yakked and yakked for ages and then I said “hang on, there’s someone at the door – it’s probably Kara again, grr”. So I grudgingly shifted my ass off the couch and found KateM herself standing on my doorstep, laughing her head off. I giggled a lot too. I like suprise visitors! You should all come up and see me some time. Well, assuming you know where I live, that is. And of course, just as long as you’re prepared to run the risk of me walking around the house pretending to be a Greek Goddess/beautiful movie star after a love scene.

Hmmm, when I was talking to Anji on the phone the other day she told me that her friend Gregor had been talking about me and said that he thought I was kinda strange because I’m very openly explicit in my conversation, and reading back through my journal entry today, maybe she’s right. I don’t really have any taboos, cos I figure if people don’t want me to talk about something, they shouldn’t bring it up. Anji said that she’d told him that if it intimidated him he should just tell me to shut up, but he said it was interesting. I guess I’m used to panda-ing to voyers (For example: Jason! we’re like, in the same circle but we’re not close, i find it really interesting that you’re reading me). I like pandas.

Right now I dunno if I should try and focus on my essay again, except I don’t think I’d be able to cos my arms are going numb, or try and sleep, except I drank coke today, or I could read. I wish Buffy reruns were on at 1am instead of 3am, it’d be so much better for me. I guess I have to make it in to my tutorial tomorrow cos our Com Strat is due. Jinan was supposed to be formatting it and doing it up all nice so I haven’t really got anything to worry about, except if she’s not there. I suddenly find myself full of Com Strat theory, which isn’t very helpful when it’s IMC essays that need to be done. Last night when I couldn’t sleep and I couldn’t do my essay either I drafted up a Communication Strategy Plan as a semi joke for someone based on a conversation we’d had at lunch the day before. I kick ass. Really.

KateB’s proposed outfit for me to wear as her bridesmaid: “And I’ll make you wear a high necked, long sleeved apricot coloured crushed velvet minidress with a massive lime green lace bow on the arse, and baggy flesh coloured pantyhose, with white open toed “Kumfs” and a matching white velvet scrunchie for your hair. ” KateB kicks ass too, and so I’m waiting for her to give me the spanking that I apparently deserve.

So, I haven’t actually finished writing my speech yet (and I have to do it tomorrow!) but I don’t really have any doubt in my ability to talk my way out of my own ass (ha, how’s taht for taking a couple’o cliches and muddling them up?) so I’m sure it’ll be fine if I take a little break and wait for this mask to set on my face and write my journal. Woah, that was quite a long sentence just there.

Today Maz came and talked to us in our PR Forum and at the end she came over to me and said “I’ll call you later” and it was so her attempt at being Carolyn Ryan saying hi to Nigel when she lectured us in Journalism second year (inncidently, why do all guys think she is the hottest news reader in the world?). After my lecture I tried to play some kinda weirdass Simon Says game in the quad but only so I could get a free LiftPlus. Students are such whores for free shit, even if it tastes nasty. Another lecture and then i went home and got stuck in on my speech again, until I got distracted by a nap.

My shoes from Willow Shoes got delivered today, yay! They’re the burgandy Mary Janes taht you will find on page three of that site if you’re really into stalking me that much. They’re lovely, and so are the people at Willow Shoes, who sent me a bath bomb as a free gift, and then wrote to me to tell me that my thank-you email had made their day. Awww. People who supply me size 11 shoes deserve all the love in the world. Yesterday I got a pair of new jeans, and they’re flared and soft and lovely, but maybe I should have got them in a size smaller because they sit reaaaaal low and they’re not supposed to. It’s weird, when I put on clothes that i haven’t worn in ages, they’re all looser too, which would suggest that maybe I’ve lost weight, but I look a whole lot fatter, and my skin is bursting with ugly pustuales, and I’m just generally unattractive right now and meh. My hair is looking good though! I did find it amusing that only KateM noticed i’d had it dyed.

My face isn’t quite ready to peel off yet though, so I will hold off on my Patrick Bateman imitations. My mummy is coming up to Auckland for a Potter’s Convention over easter, so I’ll drive back to Welly with her and her friend Paul and stay down there for a week. This means that I’ll get to go out with Ayna and Daniel et all, and hopefully get a chance to catch up with Fatty, who I haven’t heard from in a million years. You suck, Fatty. And KateB too, hopefully, unless she’s back by then, and she’ll say to me “have you lost weight?” and make me feel happy. And Tom too hopefully. I’m looking forward to the holidays, even if before then I have this 20% speech, and a 10% Com Strat, and then oh yeah, there’s that 50% IMC essay due next wednesday which I can’t yet even understand the question of. Guess who will be spending the day in Borders on Thursday buried in the Marketing section? I figure it’s only fair to use it as a library since it’s an evil empire and everything.

Why is hotmail so fucking slow tonight? Of course, i just realised that zFree is ending its service at the end of April so I’m going to have to actually pay for an ISP which means that I’ll be able to use a mailprogramme again, yay. Damn webbased mail, nothing but trouble! I saw my landlady today and she said that my room would definately be carpeted by the end of March, she was just waiting for the carpet people to come in to do one fo the apartments on the ground floor. She’s renovating the apartment of the motorcycle man who was killed in an accident. Last night I moved the dining room table into my room so that I have a proper working surface – you will of course remember that my desk is very dodgylike, and unlikely to survive an assembly then disassembly whilst the carpet is being laid. Of course, this does bring up the issue that when I have carpet again, I will no longer have any excuse not to put my bed back together. I don’t think I want to though! Having my mattress directly on the floor is really comfortable, and as anyone who’s ever even sat on my bed can attest to, it’s damn noisy. Squeak squeak squeak. Then again, since I have to put up with Kara’s MOTHERFUCKING GIGGLING all the time, so what if Clay has to hear my bed moving around, even if I’m just sleeping in it by myself very innocently? And I don’t care if I piss Ben off, because fuck, he’s pissing both me and Clay off more and more on a daily basis. I bumped into Bopa the other day, one of the lovely girls that I met on Boxing Day, and she’s living up here now and is unhappy with her flat. Clay’s friend Adrian is also thinking about finding a new flat, so Ben had better pull his socks the fuck up, that’s all I can say. Well no, that’s not all I can say. KateH offered to make me labels to stick on all my food to try and get him to stop eating it, so yes please dear,if you have time!

Maaaaaargh, I must take a break from my computer. Hurry up and call me, dick.

<!– So, news coverage today focused on 9/11 commemorations in New York.  It’s been six months, which means that I’m officially off Fluox.  I still have some pills left over (in fact, I suspect that I might actually have a whole month left over that I should pick up from the pharmacy, due to my slackness in taking things daily – I really should investigate this and then sell them to my friends who think antidepressants help with comedowns) but that’s beside the point.  Apparently I am no longer crazy.  Oh sorry, excuse me, I was never crazy, just depressed.   Remember, my quality of life depends on you, or something like that –>

I smell something burning but I can’t figure out what. I’vebeen checking the stove and various electrical fittings and all, but I can’t findanything out ofthe ordinary. Odd. Also, go HERE and join my notify list. I guess that’s not related to burning things (unless it was a “To: list@hubris.co.nz – Hi! My house is burning down. The smoke is filling my hallway and I think my skin is puckering from the heat. The electricity hasn’t shorted out yet, but I’m sure it will. How far down do you think three stories is in terms of broken bones? Cough cough. Ohh, my legs are on fire, it’s climbing my bod….” Sorry,is that poor taste? <!– because really, I taste excellent. –>) but it is on my mind, so there you go. Don’t ask me what I’ll send to the notify list,but I’msure it’ll be all sorts of exciting treats.

Today I spent two and a half hours after a lecture working on my Com Strat with Jinan. I’m still confused about the differneces between objectives, strategies and tactics as defined by the PR World (Maz – any thoughts?) but we’re pretty much done with our first assignment. I think we were helped a great deal by the fact that our mentor was super efficient in the information she gave us. It made me feel good to work hard like that. I was also happy that the sandwich place in the Imax building has gone back to having sundried tomato paste instead of actual sundried tomatos. Advacado, tomato, carrot, cucumber & sundried tomato paste in that order on rye swirl bread and a takeaway cappachino and I’m a student all over again. Of course, I’ve done no studying this evening but hey. I did bake a banana cake which grrrr Clay’s taken a big chunk out of without asking. Plus Kara (grrrrr!) was around this evening like an hour before he got home (apparently she doesn’t like walking to our house from the hundred metres away bus stop in the dark) so I had to offer her some, and that just really bugs me. I know you think this sounds petty, but none of you have to live with her, do you Katie? NO! And if you did, you’d be smart like Anji and Daniel and dislike her too.

I got someone else’s email yesterday because of the lack of current @hubris forwards right now, and in it someone else had described me as “a dope-as chick” and that just made me smile and smile for ages. Is that up there with “your hair is choice” ? Probably not quite, but it’s certainly better than “I exist to get your pants off” (Note to self: update lines page). Yes, I know I’m far too easily pleased – although then again, there are people who would argue that I’m far too picky (“what? you want someone you can actually have a conversation with? what the fuck is up with that?”).

I’m going to have to move the dining table into my bedroom real soon if there’s no sign of carpet laying happening, because I very much doubt that my desk could handle being assembled and then disassembled and reassembled again. This whole sitting on the ground thing is waaaay overrated. Fuck the Japanese(oh wait hang on a minute, didn’t I already? <!– he had shaved testicles which I presume were an attempt to make his cock look bigger –>)! Even if I put zabuton in here instead of a folded up duvet to sit on, it’d still be too uncomfortable for the long periods of time that my upcoming essays will require.

What else? I’m restless again and considering going for a drive, except that I’ve been north recently, and I don’t want to go souther than Greenlane, and I’ve never really been West, and to go East I’d have to go South, and besides, what is there to do out East? I did the supermarket shopping yesterday so it’s not like I can go do that (although I could replace all my food that Ben’s managed to eat since I bought it – grrr, I am SO angry that I’m tempted to leave a louise-esque note for him – he always does this and I’ve asked him many times before not to). I miss KatieB like mad. I hope it’sall going well for her down there (emailme, bitch!). (I’m very much in a brackets mood tonight)