Hubris.co.nz

Wednesday August 7th

Please don’t consider this to be a full picture in any way, if you want to know what’s really going on in my life, you WILL have to write me. Or call me (Mazzy, what the fuck? I was talking about three different boys, not the one, and if you were up with the play, you’d know that).

Last night me and Jezza and Morrison and Nigel went to the AUT pub quiz and spent my $20 tab and won a $30 tab. We also bought the quizmaster a drink cos he was cool, and also, if he’s stalked me off my cellphone picture, HI. And we will win the $50 tab next week. And then we went to Oporto and I got groped by a horrible skanky horrible disgusting icky old man. ewwwwwwwwwwwww.

This morning Bo and I went to St. Lukes to pick up a shirt for me, although we were both shuddering at the Mallness of it, and then we went to Roasted Adiquition for breakfast. OH MY GOD their hashbrown stack with turkish pide, aioli, advamacado and pesto is delicious! Oh yeah, but before that, I was jolted outta sleep by Haley calling me to ask which apartment was mine adn I was like “FUCK! I’ll just put on some clothes and come and find you” and we finished our presentation which FUCK FUCK FUCK I gotta do now. No wait, I’ll do it tomorrow morning. Cool. SHIT. Fuck. I can’t believe I forgot about that completely. And about turnign in my CV for the job which I’m really starting to doubt that I’m going to get. FUCK. Nah it’s cool, this way I can fit in seeing my HR tutor tomorrow to talk to her about my hypothesis about Sick Building Syndrome (moral of the story is – go to your tutorials and you won’t be stuck with the lameass topics no on eelse wants). Where was I? Work at 12.30pm, yeah, and longmeetings about Courses and Careers Day, and then I spent the afternoon looking up catering websites.

Anyways so this evening, I left the house with $50, and now I have come home with 2 expensive cocktails, one flavoured vodka shot, one bottle of red wine, one kebab and two taxi rides in my belly and empty pockets, so I guess I did okay, mostly coasting on the charms’o lovely KateH. Lovely Popular KateH who even manages to know people in common with the random “hi ladies – do you mind if I introduce myself?” guy at Deschlers. We drank at the Classic, and then didn’t go to Starks cos we’re still banned, and then Deschlers for ages of course so American Friend Amy could drink Chocolate Monkeys, and then Kate and I had a boogie at Retro Night while Amy slept in the corner and now I’m home, dropping my kebab on my breasts cos I wisely took my shirt off. I can’t feel the cold. ALSO! I had to leave Buffy with like, 15 minutes still to go, how rude! AND I idnt’ even get laid out of it – previously, only boys taking me to the bedroom have managed to lure me away from that programme, adn that was under duress (yes, and one of you knows who you are, with that whole leaving your laptop behind ploy, and as for the other one, well I’d be suprised if he could even write his name, frankly. But we’re way off track. My point was, I think I missed Buffy and Spike having sex, and that’s a momentuous occasion!). But still, I had a great night, especially dancing at the end, and so Katie and I decided that our cheap ethnic food and wine BYO nights will now take place on Wednesdays so we can go dancing after. Kickass

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, July 23rd 2002

In which Joanna and Bopha have Retro Night

“I haven’t done it either. I’m not a nymphomaniac – I’m a compulsive liar”. Guess who’s been watching ‘The Breakfast Club’ again?

Dreams this morning involved me scoring some random guy so that my friend could cheat on her boyfriend with the other guy that we were with, and one of the those guys happened to be Josh from Home and Away. We ended up crashing a Hercules plane into the desert in French Morrocco, and my friend got taken by white slave traders, and there was much hiding behind rocks and stuff until I woke up. Mm. It’s full moon kinda weather, right? My periods are no longer nsync with the moon, but my dreams apparently still are. Then again, if Bopha and clay jump on me again like they did tonight while I’m trying to swallow my bleed pill and make me cough it up, then who knows what will happen. Chaos, utter total chaos. Possibly.

Human Resources Communication lecture was actually really good, and plus I really like Lenny, so that’s cool. Hey Maz, if you read this before I have a chance to call you (and if that’s the case, then we are LAME) which text books should I buy this semester?). Then, cos I had a two hour gap before my next class, I hopped on a link and went to Newmarket to look for a stereo. Or rather, I waited 25 minutes for a link bus that is supposed to go every 10 minutes, which then took 20 minutes to get to Newmarket. Plus, I didn’t find a stereo. All I want is an Aiwa, Sony, or Pioneer microsystem stereo that has an RCA input plug and looks good for under $400. Why is that so hard? Actually, come to think of it, I haven’t seen a single Pioneer stereo anywhere. What’s up with that – are they just out of my price range or what? See, my parents hav always had pioneers, and me and my sisters have always had Sonys, so you know, I just wanna stick with waht I know. But then again, half the reason I want a new stereo is because the laser in my Sony stereo has been dead for a year and a half. Then again, I did buy it at the start of 1995, but it cost $800 then. So who knows.

OH MY GOD! I almost strangled someone in my Coporate Communication class this afternoon. We were doing an exercise on evaluating a particular politician’s postives and negatives and suggesting tactics for them before the election, and my group was working on Peter Dunne. There was one girl in my group who was like “Who? I don’t know who any of the leaders of any of the parties are”. OH MY FUCKING GOD! Okay, so maybe Peter Dunne was until last week one of the lesser known politicians but you HAVE to know him by now! And so I was like “what? how can you not know?” and she was like “oh, I have no interest in politics – I don’t really watch the news or read the paper” and later she was like “oh, I don’t htink I’ll vote – I don’t know what anyone’s about. Mum doesn’t like labour though”. I was just about ready to jump across the desks and throttle her. SHE IS A THIRD YEAR COMMUNICATIONS STUDENT FOR FUCKS SAKE! There is absolutely no fucking excuse for that kind of bullshit. Okay, it would have been fair enough if she’d grown disillusioned with the system, or disliked the policies of everyone, or was making a protest non-vote, or even if she was voting for Winston Peters cos she liked his three fingers, or ANYTHING like that, but NO! She didn’t have a single thought or opinion. Sure, maybe later years of the BCs didn’t have the benefit of the best Politics tutor in the world, Marcus, but if she can’t follow the media, she has absolutely no fucking right to be doing a A GODDAM MEDIA DEGREE! Especially with a major in PR. In Multimedia possibly there would be the faintest chance in the world that she could bury her head in code and never see daylight, but in PR, it is completely essential you have a grip on the environments that your organisation is operating within, and politics is vital to that. You don’t have to like it, but you should at least be able to identify who the leader of a party is. Even goddam fucking personification of stupid old flatmate Ben probably would have been able to tell you who he was voting for (because he like d cannibas and thought that the Greens were a single issue party in that respect) and would have had one or two issues that would have concerned him – ie the closing of Thames Hospital cos his parents were nurses. But oh no, not this girl. One of the other girls in my group was voting for Winston, which is tragic, but I still really like her as a person, and the other was going National, but she explained her standpoint, and while I didn’t agree I could at least respect it.

But yeah, after wadling up the hill in the rain, Bopha and Clay shared my total and utter indignation at that girl’s complete ignorance, and then I went a little bit mental, completly hypo. Hmm, I can’t remember what teh end of that word is – hypo ummmmmmmmmm. Hyperactive. It was fun, and Bops laughed at me lots, which is also kinda fun. So us two planned a retro night, with liquor and ‘The Breakfast Club’ since she’d never seen it. We were in the bottle store in Newmarket when the guy ID’d us – which is probably fair enough cos we spent ages debating the virtues of drinking RTDs in retroness, and I just laughed at him, and then was like “fuck, actually I don’t think i have my drivers license” and I was rattling out the same prattle that I used to use 8 years ago when I wasn’t actually legal to drink, but then finally I found it, and was hugely relieved cos I was just about to be really embarrassed. Yeah anyways. We tried to play a drinking game with The Breakfast Club, doing shots any time anyone said that their homelife was worse than anyone else’s, anytime anyone was called by their name, any time you saw a clock, any time Allison stole something and anytime anyone swore but eventually got lazy. According to Bops, if I was a Breakfast Club character, I would be Claire the princess, played by Molly Ringwald, with elements of all the others except for the jock thrown in. I kinda think Bopha would be the jock, except she’s so not, but she’s no one else better, and Clay would definately be the nerd. That’s all I’ll say about that movie (for now, anyways).

After that, we was watching music tv, so we had to run out into the hallway and try to learn the dance moves to ‘Step By Step’ by NKOTB on the public staircase. We think we got something going on, except then we were throwing in the panda dance, and also the crazy maraca thing Bops and I had been doing to a Santana song on Sunday night, so it got pretty fucked up. According to her, we’re almost at hte point where we don’t even need to talk anymore to know what each other mean, adn soon we will be communicating entirely in a language of clicks and beeps and “BO BO BO badabibi” I keep telling her stories, and she keeps wanting to meet people she’s heard about, so fi you’ve never met Bops, now is the time to get your act together and drop round.

ALSO! On July 17th, it was Hubris’s THIRD BIRTHDAY. This is very special and important, and hey, actually, I might like, you know, release merchandise soon. THREE! I can’t believe it.

Thursday, July 18th 2002

In which Joanna ponders her ovaries in some detail

Yesterday I’d half written this excellent disection breaking down the stereotypes in the Breakfast Club which I’d watched that afternoon on two glasses of wine and some codeiene cos I was bored, and I wrote how I could easily match up the nerd, the weirdo and the stupid jock to people that I’ve shagged, and also probably the badass but I was having trouble matching the Molly Ringwald princess character until Tom told me exactly who it corrolated with because of major Princess Complex going on with that particular person and he was so right, but anyways, I lost that whole entry because I had to go and take a drunken phonecall from Anji, and spent over an hour only saying “Yep”, “ahuh” and “yeah”. I could have been a character on the West Wing, if I’d said it with that funny abbreviated swallowing their words kinda way that they all do (Incidentally, I can’t remember who it was that said it, but someone suggested that there’s only one character on the West Wing and I sometimes think that they’re right. CJ is still fabulous though.)

But anyways, that was yesterday, along with Maree phoning to say thank you for the faxes I sent her the other day, so I invited her around to eat vege lasange with me (it was the fucking best lasange ever, with leeks and onions and mushrooms and bromocoli and kidney beans for protein and pumpkin and tomato and everything). That was probably the highlight’o my day, seeing her. No wait! The other highlight yesterday was a suprise coffee in the courtyard of Strawberry Alarm Clock with KateH who is my sunshine although she shoulda been working. Was that yesterday? Or the day before? I can never remember. Wait, I think I wrote about that already, so maybe that was Tuesday. Who knows?

Blah blah blah. Work today. Right now Clay and BradC are at Pluto and Gomez, the bastards. I asked them to bring me back Milan, but I doubt that they’ll remember to, since it took BradC exactly one month to bring me my birthday present. And I still maintain that a cinnamon donut really ain’t any kinda present. They were drinking Soju and also Cider before, so I laughed at them over the top of my dry martini with a twist and the olives on the side. Then BradC got under my duvet cos he was cold and Clay gave me looks, which is ridiculous cos he already gave me full permission to pursue him if I want to, but I don’t think I do. I need to learn to make myself happy without having to disengage my brain all the time, etc. Plus, I’ve done enough pursuing for the year.

Also, I have had the dull distant ache of a soft headache all day, so I know it’s the goddam pill, and I’m going to have to do some serious thinking. If I skip the sugar pills, there’s a risk that I’ll have PMS all month, and I don’t think anyone would be able to deal with that. If I don’t, then I might always have this ache when I’m on the sugar pills, and while it’s not the fullscale migraine’o last time, I do realise that i’m going to have to make sure that I have full oxygen going to my brain at all times in order to keep it from getting to that evil “I think I’m going to die because something has exploded in my skull feeling”. And you know what maintaining proper breathing means that I can’t do. Grrr. So I guess I could go off the pill. I’m not using it as birth control, cos ha, do you ever see anyone actually fancying me enough to have a dedicated relationship with me where I trusted them enough to stop using condoms? I doubt it (side note – I am 22 years old and only one person has ever told me that they loved me). But in theory, the pill is regulating my ovaries – and also apparently clearing up my skin and making me less hairy. My skin isn’t really that bad though, is it? And yeah, I have horrible hairy hobbit feet, but that hasn’t seemed to have changed over the past two months. However, yeah, I do want to get my ovaries in line. Hmmm. Maybe I will wait til I’m next sick and needing to see my doctor and then I’ll discuss it with her. Dammit, if this was two months ago, I could still go see her for free cos of the whole U22 free sexual health visits.

Blah blah. Blah blah blah blah blah. I think I had more to talk about but maybe I don’t. Bopha is coming back tomorrow – oh how I have missed my little girl! And I get to see KateH again too, and that kicks ass. If I had been good and gone to watch them all playing indoor netball, I coulda seen her and Maree and JeremyO today, but Maz said that they weren’t going to be wearing short skirts, so really, what would the point have been?

I really wanted to go to Gomez, but it was $60, and I’ve been increasingly crowdfreakouted, so I dunno if it woulda delivered $60 worth’o satisfaction to me. But fuck, Pluto are great live. Oh well, I’m sure they’ll play an individual gig sometime soonish, and at least this way I wasn’t subjected to Chris Knox.

NEWSFLASH! Clay and BradC just got back, and apparently they met a friend of Jarrod’s from Wellington, and OH MY GOD it was the first boy I ever kissed who I was madly in love with for a very long time afterwards. Now I’m really bummed that I didn’t go.

Sunday the 14th of July, two thousand and two

I had a really random day yesterday, it was strange, but ended well, so all’s well that ends well, really. I have now managed to shake my bad mood, thanks probably entirely to the divine Ms. Hamlin (KATEH! heh). So yeah, day yesterday:

In the afternoon, after doing not much in the morning, I popped around to see KateM on my way to the supermarket, and made her get up. How cruel of me – it was only 3.45pm after all! And then I went to the supermarket, and found that Grower’s World has shut down or something, and it was all abandoned and I couldn’t get veges. Then there was a busker outside’o Foodtown playing a very bad rendition of “Lover, you should have come over” which made me remember a girl who mostly doesn’t remember me now, but it still made me smile. And then I laughed on the inside at the enchilladas in the deli case, until I worried that maybe people were giving me strange looks. It was so hot in the supermarket that I started spacing out, and I felt all funny, so as soon as I got home I shut myself up in my room so that I wouldn’t have to talk to Clayton. But later, I was out in the lounge, getting ready to watch The Goonies, and he came along and gave me big hugs and said I was a great person for putting away the dishes, and that he’d been feeling Meh too, so it was a nice bonding moment. I flicked through our flat bible, where random people write random things, and discovered that KateB generally writes “Snapshot Memories” in it the day after I’ve scored, so there were some interesting regressions. But I guess it makes sense, cos we’d be hungover and lying around unable to move, swapping stories, and that’s when she’s most likely to write. Anyways. At the back’o the Bible, there was a list of Dorks begun in early 2000, and also a list of people we give props to. The dorks included people like Dawson, and Brad’s old boss, and the girl who’d been grumpy in Global Sandwich, and the list of people we gave props to were generally flavour’o the moment celebrities, but also included on the list was Jason, which made me laugh cos obviously I’d had a crush on him when I first met him way back then. And if you know anything about the inner workings of our social circle, you’d find it funny too (Hi Jason, if you’re still reading).

Anyways, so yeah, like I said, weird things were amusing me, despite an overall feeling of Meh. I got to watch the Goonies though, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ll never stop loving Corey Feldman. Is it wrong to fancy a 14 year old boy? I’ve managed to outgrow finding Eddie Furlong in T2 attractive, but Corey is my forever. Then I was going to watch The Skulls, but luckily KateH rang and said that her plans had changed and did I feel like going out? Hmmmm… let’s see. So needless to say that I met up with her 20 minutes later. I wore a tiara out, because I am after all a princess, and I haven’t worn my tiara in a very long time. I met her at Caravan Serai where she was having dinner with her Disney friends, who are also in my class at school. They used the word “random” an awful lot, which was random to me since I was having a random day, and and and. Oh you get the picture. They went off to Globe, but Katie told me that i’d hate it, so we went to Deschlers instead, where we drank devine cocktails. Brad joined us a couple of hours later, which was very cool. I was talking about my pants, and he said they looked good on me, and just as I was about to go “aww thanks” he said “they’d look better on my floor in Whakatane” which I’d actually scripted for him in emails discussing me going down to visit him. Ha HA Hilarious. We bumped in Jason and Hamish which made me giggle quietly on the inside as well, cos’o the whole bible thing, and cos Hamish asked me if I was still hanging out at his old flat. And I got to meet Luke Casey and shake his hand! That was pretty exciting. Then Brad dropped me home and I found myself watching an Adam Sandler movie and actually laughing lots and lots, so maybe I was drunker than I thought. It was a really good night though, and it very much lifted my spirits.

Today I got up before noon to make sure I was clean and dressed by the time Maree and Brad showed up to see my rug. I gave Mazzy a copy of the last ever edition of the Evening Post, and also a first edition of the Dominion Post, and we went for ‘brunch’ at Box House. We sat outside cos it was sunny, but four hours later, my legs are still numb from the cold. Good food though. And then we went to Hamlin’s for Dawson’s, which was really boring. Yeah. Now I’m home, and I might find a duvet and watch The Breakfast Club, if our TV decides to be in colour, otherwise I will take Haruki Murakami to bed with me and be disappointed 20 times over cos I never like his endings and this is a book of short stories.

Also, i just noticed that my last webcam photo is of me with my mouth really really wide open cos I was belting out the dirty words in ‘Stagger Lee’ last night. Lovely.

The phone rang early this morning (ie, before 11am) and I was like “fuck I hate people!” only of course, it was Maree, who was ringing to ask what time I was flying down to Wellington, cos maybe she was on the same flight, and as it turned out, she was. I read the Herald and discovered that i was mentioned top’o the list in Sideswipe, so I cut the article out and stuck it to my wall with 3M® Scotch Tape. Bopha and I had lunch at a very nice newish cafe on St Benedicts Street, and then I packed and took a cab to Maz’s, and we took a taxi-chitted taxi to the airport and Maz was a spaz, and there was no leg room, and also, there was no window. But that was the first time i’ve flown not by myself since I was fourteen (oh I’m such a loner) so that was cool. Mum and Karen picked me up from the airport, adn we met my daddy at Astoria for a drink cos Anji was working there, and then went to Arizona for dinner. Karen and I both sent our steaks back, cos they were blacked adn dry and not at all medium rare, and it took an hour for them to bring us some water. I filled in the customer survey alright. But the steak was nice the second time around, at least. I am nearing my protein stage, I think. And now i’m home, and sleeeeepy and my wrists hurt, so no more stories for you.

Oh, and apologies to anyone who was in Arizona tonight who saw more than they wanted to when I flashed my boobies at my parents cos they asked.

Tuesday June 25th

Just before midnight, that thing in my head snapped again, and the entire left side of my head started to throb and pulsate and ache ache ache. The pain was incredible, I hadn’t felt its like except for on Saturday and Sunday nights as well. I couldn’t take it anymore. I sat up in bed and cried for about fifteen minutes wondering how badly it would scare my mother if I’d rung her at that hour. My head was really freaking me out, and I needed it to stop. It’s kinda terrifying to feel like a blood vessel has burst in your brain. Bopha was fast asleep with two exams the next day, and Clay wasn’t home, so I ended up canvassing opinions via txt, until someone agreed with me that yes, maybe I should go to the hospital since I’d been in pain for three days and it wasn’t getting any better – in fact, it was getting worse (and I know I don’t say enough good things about you sometimes, so thank you, I’m so glad to know you’re always there for me when I’m having a crisis, and you know I’m always there for you too, if you need me). I woke Bops because I had no money for a taxi, and she offered to come with me, but I said she shouldn’t, because I knew we’d end up waiting hours and hours, and because I was crying and in pain to the point where I could hardly talk, and because of her exams. I managed to scrape together $5 in coins, which was just enough.

I felt so fucking stupid, telling hte guy at the counter that I had “a headache” because it sounds so goddam prissy and lame, but he was very nice and told me that three days was an extreme length of time, and he called me sweetheart in a really nice way. He took me to a room in the ER and left me there for ages, which I understand cos I know they have to prioritize. I held my head in my hands and felt nauseous, and listened to the staff calling for diazaphan for the guy in the room next to me who was having fits. That made me feel kind of like a fraud, but there is only so much pain and misery a girl can take. It was a fucking hard call to make though, having to take enough responsibility for myself to seek treatment. Meh. Eventually a nice nurse called Jayne came along and took me to another room, and gave me a wristband with my name and phone number on it, and told me to get undressed and put on one of those funny hospital gowns. I’d be expecting them to just shine a light in my eyes and tell me I was pathetic and wasting their time, so I was like “umm, you have the right piece of paper right? I’m here with a headache?” and she laughed at me. Once I’d changed, she told me to lie down on a half propped up bed, took my blood pressure and pulse, turned out the lights and said the doctor would be in to see me soon. I think it must have taken about an hour for him to get to me, in which time I just cried like the big sooky girl I am, because it hurt, and because I was lonely and because I just wanted my mum. I really wished that there was someone who I could have called to go with me, that I wouldn’t have felt bad about asking, and so I decided that I need to have kids as soon as possible cos I figure by the time they’re 15, they can drive me and also, they’ll be completely obligated to me and everything, so I won’t need to feel guilty, and they’ll be matyred to me. And yeah, I know that when my darling friends read this, they’ll all be like “you could have called me” but how do you call someone at 12am and say “hi, I have a headache, can you please get up and come to the hospital and wait a couple of hours with me?” It just doesn’t work like that. Still, Auckland Hospital is a scary horrible place to be alone in. It was miserable and I considered putting my clothes back on and running away, except that it wouldn’t have been running, it would have been a very slow, very painful crawl, and I would still be worried about what exactly was going on inside my skull.

Eventually the doctor came and examined me and asked me all the same questions that the nurse had asked me. He said that everything seemed fine, but that I had done the right thing to come in, and he told me that I didn’t have meningitis, which hadn’t even crossed my mind. He said that although I had no history of them, it might just be a particularly violent migraine, and said he would work through levels of pain relief with me, from basics, to heavier, to hooking me up to a drip and keeping me in overnight if need be. This meant sending in a nurse with panadol and voltarin and a glass of milk which she ordered me to drink to counteract the nasty stomach munchingness of voltarin, and leaving me for half an hour “to get some sleep”. Righto. I started tripping out, and could feel the pain in my head breaking free and floating loose, and then working its way into a little knot by my eye. What the fuck is it with hospitals and their fucking panadol? It’s like the time when I got hit by a car and they gave me panadol, only this time i wasn’t drunk and abusive, and I wasn’t inflicting hours of waiting torture on James and Maree. Anyways, finally my doctor came back to re-evaluate me. He said he was happy to keep me in overnight, but he thought that I’d probably sleep better at home and that was what would probably do the best for me, as long as he gave me some more pain relief before I went. Knowing that I had an exam in six and a half hours time, I agreed with him, so he dosed me up on straight codeine, wrote me out a script for some more, ordered me to see my GP as soon as possible for follow-up and gave me a piece’o paper detailing my tragic story.

Of course, I’d used up all my coins on the taxi to get to the hospital, and in my zonked state, I decided that it would be a good idea to walk home. When I left the hospital I thought the moon was half full – by the time I got over the Grafton Bridge, it was full, and I was by the graveyard and I kept seeing things and I couldn’t feel my legs anymore because of the 60mg of codeine. Things were a little odd, to say the least. The sky was really clear, and all the branches were ghostly, and I was doped off my tits, and yeah, fun times. At least my headache had subsided to a dull roar though. It was 3am by that stage, and then I woke up at 4am when the drugs wore off and my head was screaming again and my chest cavity felt like my ribs were all imploding. Odd.

So of course, there was extreme lack of sleep, and residual dopiness from the codeine, and the headache was back as soon as I got up this morning, so I had to take more nurofen plus. I would have been bouncing off the walls if I wasn’t reduced to sliding along the floor. In my exam, it took me fifteen minutes to be able to focus enough to copy down the question to the top of my page, and that really really fucked me off. I did an appalling job, and I’m really upset, because I could have done so much better. I know my LTSA topic inside out, and I’d done well on going through the other stuff too, ducking in between major migraineness, but I was so vague and blurry and doped just to try and get rid of the fucking pain. I went to fill out compassionate consideration forms straight after, but they’ll only allow me a “pass” which I think I might just get anyways, not an actual indication of the good mark that I could have got if it wasn’t for all this bullshit.

After the exam, I went to pick up my prescription – more codeine and voltarin, lovely. Everyone from my Persuasive Class was meeting at The Playhouse for lunch and drinking so I went along, spaced out and only able to drink coke. But the girl I dislike more than anyone kept screeching in my ear, and I was fading fast after the quick pickup of pills, so I went home, told Clay that I couldn’t talk because I wasn’t coherant, and slept for four hours. When I got up, there were concerned phonecalls from Maz and a bigass gorgeous lovely bunch of flowers from KateH, stark contrast to being alone and miserable in a hospital bed. They also came over really briefly, and Kate told me she’d deliberatly asked for Serene, Calming flowers. Awww. I’m looking forward to my party on Saturday, especially since I’ve had to forsake alcohol today and BradC and Clay are currently drinking Soju in honour of Korea/Germany. I’m also foresaking hte soccer as well, because I just can’t handle. I’m so fragile and fucked, and if I move my head, it hurts. Arrgh. At least I get to go home to my mum next Wednesday.

Thursday June 20th

Happy Birthday Daddy! I’ve fucked up everyone’s birthdays lately – it was Shirley’s on the 15th, not Andee’s. Andee’s was yesterday, not o’s. And o’s is tomorrow. Happy birthday o!

This morning I dragged myself out of bed and the house into the most miserable weather ever (three sleeping pills (relax, they’re just herbal) had actually allowed me to get a decent night’s sleep beforehand) to go down to tech and sit my Intergrated Marketing Communications exam. I decided last night that I’m going to get an A on it. I wrote about telemarketing, databases, heirachy of effects and the implications of new media in 2010 on IMC. I kick ass.

After that, back home in the horrible weather for a few quick puffs on a spliff with Bops and Emma and then it was off to Newmarket for my half hour massage. Ahhh bliss. I just wish that the guy hadn’t had coins in his pocket that kept jangling. I also wish that I wasn’t so tense and that I didn’t feel the need to fight back when someone is pushing me. At least I’m more comfortable about strangers touching me. Oh shut up.

Home again to laze around, completely relaxed except for Bopha scaring me. I had a lovely nap and mooched around doing sweet fuck all, except for baking a birthday cake for Emma. Her birthday was on Tuesday, but we were slack so we’re gonna celebrate it tomorrow along with Brazil/England. Come watch the soccer with us. (Oh also, Mazzy/Kate; yes Emma HAS moved out, don’t get worked up! We just like hanging out with her, okay? Good!)

Blah blah blah blah. I want the other half of my massage now please. I was afraid that I’d end up gurgling on the table but luckily I didn’t.

Monday June 17th

Today is my birthday, my 22nd to be exact. Any and all of you who haven’t seen me, called, txted or email suck. That’s right, ALL of you. So there.

Work was long but hey, I was weraing my pretty new skirt so at least I looked good.

Evening was Bopha and Berrin which apparently means Little Bear so I love him yelling “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” and breaking like mad as soon as I walked in the door which was a little scary.

Evening was dinner on the pillows at Caravan Serai with Bopha and Jezza and Renee and Maree and KateH and James and KateM and Jody, and oh my god that was so cool apart from getting locked in a toilet stall and having to take the lock off with a knife as an alternative to climbing over the roof into the dust and air vents to get out, but maybe we’ll write about that when we’re soberer, cos I’m actually reaaaaaaally sleep so I migth go sleep and write up an inventory tomorrow. I had a kickass birthday, and it would only have been cooler if You had called. Ha, who’s that You? You all are, maybe. Also, I’m worried that you’re not going to email me again, after my last letter to you which I guess was a suggestion that you shouldn’t, but that’s not really what I want, it’s just what is obviously for the best. But fuck the best! I want the rest! Anji says I should go and leave the boy another note with my number and see if he wants to have coffee, but I’m so not even sure that I wanna see him, I think I just want SOMEONE to fancy. Meh. Think about it tomorrow? For now bed looks all warm and soft and stuff. ANd there’s no one left to drink with cos everyone’s gone to bed and I almost fell asleep in Bopha’s when I wenmt to wake her up for the soccer which she’s not even going to watch (I’m in shock). Yeah, so I’m cold and drunk and mostly really happy, bed would be good here.

Hey, do you think I’m grown up now? We’ll see. xojo.

PS – Did I mention that I set myself on fire yesterday? Whoops!

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.