Hubris.co.nz

I think it is fairly safe to say that I am addicted to fairy lights. I set up our Xmas tree today (it is named Sam, because it’s a fucking prick. Although it is yet to insist that I must have diabetes). In the process of getting this in place, I also cleaned off our buffet! There are empty flat surfaces in my house! It is very very exciting!

Yes, that’s right, I don’t update for a month, and then when I do, all I write about is tidying my house. This is how I roll, yo. Oh okay, I will talk about how I’ve been Xmas shopping, and making plans for the dinner that I want to cook, and preparing secret potions and all that kind of thing.

I’ve been feeling a bit thoughtful the past couple of days. As you may have seen me twittering about yesterday, it was ten years since I first had sex. So that was the guy that I had my first relationship with. It’s been a year since I began my second relationship as well, which I call a relationship because he did, and because it was more than just fucking, even though it shouldn’t have even been that. Although I didn’t want the first one to be, the second one is most definitely a secret. In 2010, I’m going to meet someone who will love me so much that they will shout from the rooftops that they’re with me. That’s going to be really fantastic. Oh yes indeedy.

I don’t really have that much else to say, because it’s been so long that all the stories I wanted to tell you have been forgotten. Instead, I will grab some photos of me from Flickr with which to start conversations, okay?

SPICEWORLD

Still the greatest movie ever made. We had a most awesome night of watching it and then I stayed up til 3.30am talking to Amie. She cleaned up in the morning! Best houseguest ever until the next lot showed up.

ROLLER DERBY!

Richter City (Wellington) played Pirate City (Auckland) and three of Auck girls stayed with us. Turns out one of them was Hannah who was Iva’s friend when we lived at Volcanic, so she’s also slept with Lance. Hilariousness ensued. Also, Roller Derby was AMAZING, even though we got creamed. It was edge of the seat jumping up and down and yelling and cheering and fantasticness. And look who happened to be in town for it and managed to get in on the sign and fascinator-making?

Yeah that’s right, that’s motherfucking KateH! It was very very nice to see her again after years overseas. Plus, I am now the Popular Kate of Wellington, which makes me feel allpowerful. In fact, I’m the Empress of the Internet. Bow down.

I went to the Havana Club cocktail championships and wrote about it on the Wellingtonista. Speaking of, holy fucking shit, next week it is the FOURTH ANNUAL WELLINGTONISTA AWARDS. I am crazybusystressed sorting it all out plus I don’t get to buy a new dress which is sad but hopefully it will all go smoothly enough.

Oh yeah, duh, flickr reminds me that there’s this:

I got an infected ingrown hair on my stomach, and it developed into full-blown cellulitis and I spent 48 hours in the hospital. Almost two weeks later, I still haven’t finished my antibiotics. Kind of a bit bored of talking about it, so here’s this:

o, so 48 hours of IV antibiotics and crazy Syrian ladies yelling in the bed next to me and NO WIFI (omg death) and so many things beeping and being woken up at 4am all the time so they could change my drip and then at 7am because apparently that’s when they wake up usually anyways later, I cried and begged them to send me home so they have with lots of codeine and also fuckloads of antibiotics, and now my stomach is much better but my arm is in immense pain from where my veins collapsed under the harshness of the antibiotics and it all leaked into my tissue instead. Moral of the story: ingrown hairs are not a good idea.

Many people were wonderful and came to see me in the hospital or afterwards and it made me so happy to have such lovely friends and family and flatmates who provided me with food so I didn’t have to eat the hospital slop and so I had clean laundry and access to technology to keep me from going crazy.

So yes, even though things are far from perfect (I still don’t have a job or a flatmate), the awesome things in my life kind of outweigh the sucky, and that’s the way I would like to keep things, thanks.

So tomorrow, or sort of todayish, it will have been a year since I cried and I screamed and I hoped and I begged and I cried some more in joy and Obama was voted in as president. There are plenty of people who will write about the political implications of all that, and about the terrible puppy-eating thing that happened a few days later in NZ when my hair looked all amazing and I was pretending to be Joan Holloway, but I will pretend that night never happened. And I suppose that’s where it would be easy to start the fantasies, to pretend that the things never happened, but lately and for very little reason other than maybe getting my period and the associated END OF THE WORLD right before it, I am reminded of all these things and all these touches, and I react funny, and I cry in strange places and contact people that I shoudn’t because I just want some kind of attention and I know that mostly this is me, not you, and yet I have come to the conclusion that it’s not that I am still in love with you, but rather that it has gone out the other side and I hate you for what you have done to me, and for what I let myself become and that maybe it is easier if I loathe every single thing about you. But of course, that’s not actually that much easier. It just took me by surprise a couple of nights ago when I was just totally overcome with thoughts of the things that briefly were things, but not for very long and anyways, let’s end this paragraph. I am not good at dealing with anniversaries of things that are teh sux0r.

Now I have a a toss-up between good or bad. Let’s go with the bad, then the good.

I will try to keep this paragraph relatively spoiler-free, but I have been watching a certain show set in 1963 on torrents, and so yes, you can expect that Mad Men WILL deal with the assassination of JFK (oh, spoiler alert, apparently the president got assasinated in November 1963..) and I was watching that episode last night and because of course, much like you, my moment of “This is history happening right now” was 9/11, and so it was all played out in flashback sequences last night, the starting on Fluox, the Buffy episode at 3am, the flicking to the news channel, the “oh wow, what movie is this?”, the text messages to Kateh and Thomas, the wondering whether or not to wake Clayton, and then the flatmate hunt in the weeks after, but most relevantly, EM’s letters about what he told his son about the bad men when his son’s cartoons were taken off the air. It’s 2009, EM, shouldn’t you be emailing me right now?

But oh, the happy anniversaries! They can wipe out all the badness. And this is where the glee comes in, with going to Christchurch for one night for Harvestbird and Ned’s wedding. I feel very tongue-tied and inadequate and actually quite useless in recording such a lovely mellow event (although I can say that some dumbass Kwikimart clerk gave me terrible directions and it took me 30 minutes to walk to the bar instead of two), but what I can do instead is embed a drunken video for you that I took of the crazy lights in my crazy hotel room:

Apart from that, Christchurch was AWESOME! There was the girl on the plane who recognised me from a rollerderby match (“you’re Jo from Pretty Pretty aren’t you?”) who gave me a tour around the city to my hotel and an adventurous trip back to the airport the next day. There were hungover drinks with Emma Hart who managed to make ME blush which is practically as unheard of as the word “squozen” and the brunch the next day with Kebabette at C1.

I know Kebabette from PPP, so this is a good time to say how awesome the Pretty Pretty Party was. Also awesome? The Pride & Prejudice & Zombies ball. There are great pics on that link, by the way. I do so really love to dance, and the girls and boys at that dance swept me off my feet and all over the floor and I really should have hitched up my skirt better so I wouldn’t have slipped over so much. The fact that I ended up crying behind my (Theresa’s) fan at Motel later that night and sending texts to inappropriate people because I wanted some attention is clearly irrelevant. Honest!

I had a period for like, almost two weeks or something? Which was annoying but at least it kind of made my body make sense. Now I’ve got a three-week contract working from home but all I seem to want to do is take naps, so my hours are a little sporadic and off the standard chart. I have Fridays in the office to ground me however, and I feel really good and confident about the work I am doing. It is very much aligned with my skill set and close to my heart. Someone commented to me on Facebook the other day about how they can’t believe that I still don’t have a job yet and I feel pretty much the same way that they do, only more so.

El moved out but a lovely girl from Twitter who is on Brutal Pagaent (boo!) at Roller Derby (yay!) will be moving in. Brent’s going to move in with his girlfriend so I still need another flatmate. My social calendar is insanely busy. Hubris wasn’t updated for a while, but now it is. Good. Gossip Girl time now, right?

Except Lisa has me watching a Pearl Jam clip where they’re singing ‘Black’ and I expect him to start singing “We…belong…together” like he does in the Unplugged video, not altogether too different from Campbell Scott (that’s right, isn’t it Jessie? I get the two confused) in Singles but then he sings lines from ‘Good Woman’ instead about how he’s lying when he says he doesn’t love me no more, and oh, they’re too much like a text message when someone said that they were going to say that they were over me because they were weak, and oh, fuck you Obama, I am holding you entirely responsible for this, apart from the parts that are Guy Fawke’s fucking doings..

Last time I wrote, I was planning for Martha’s new Wanda Harland opening, and now that was a couple of weeks ago. I had a tremendous amount of fun. There was the most amazing cheese in the whole wide world there (one was called “OMG Triple Cream Brie” by Over The Moon) and because I was so in love with it, I get to go to eat more of it tomorrow at a super secret cheese tasting. More details will come on YASE at some stage soon, I’m sure. It is a great space, and there are many pretty things in it that I want to buy.

After the shop opening, Karen and Megan and I went for dinner at Arashi, and then up to Hooch for a quick drink. A couple of bottles later, we’d had enough of old men from Nelson who were up for the rugby and decided to hit on us but accidently showed us picture of their wives. We really should have stopped drinking earlier though so that I could have been less hungover in preparation for the roller derby on that Saturday.

The roller derby was fucking amazing! I wrote about it on Pretty Pretty Pretty and you can also see photos of how hot I looked. Sure, the leopardskin bustier gave me bruises, but it was totally worth it. I was really happy that when I was taking photos of the girls afterwards they’d mostly all heard of PPP, and so I felt totally full of love for Wellington and the internets.

Afterwards, we went up to Hooch for a Cowboys + Indians night. There was a guy in a horse’s head! Behold!

The horse is made a million times more awesome by the guy in the background

I ran into the girl from #madbad and ended up pinning her to the bathroom wall and pashing her until one of the female bartenders came in and told us we were too drunk and she would lose her bartender’s license. I think that was somewhat of an exaggeration. But I went home and did not accept her text invitations to go up to the duck’s house. I had to get up at 9am to go to the airport to pick up Kat and Kane, after all!

The airport mission was pretty heinous but then Kat and I went into town to meet up with the Wellingtonista at Mac’s Brewery because we’d finally managed to literally organise a piss-up in one. We drank our tab we’d won at the Webstock Quiz the year before, hung out in the lovely weather, introduced new people to the delights of knowing the best people in town, and many people brought along their kids. It was thoroughly delightful to sit in the sun afterwards, eat gelato and plot starting up our own crocodile bike business.

Having Kat and Kane around always makes me feel very mellow and content and full of love. I cooked a big old lamb roast for nine people that night, and we crowded around the table stuffing ourselves, drinking red wine and having hilarious conversation. Kat did all the cleaning before and after, which I felt bad about but I didn’t want to fight her on it too much! I was really happy with the way that everything went, that it reminded me what fantastic lovely people I have in my life. Awww.

But I didn’t have too much time to reflect on it, because on Wednesday, Miss Harvestbird was in town, just in time for the RASSLIN! The rasslin’ was being filmed for TV, so it was held in a warehouse here in Newtown with tiered seating and great lighting for taking photos, but of course I didn’t get around to downloading my pics before my camera was stolen. However, the lovely Miss Fur took pics, of course, so you should check hers out. It includes this gem:

Chris DeLorean and Lazarus Volt - bum pinchers!

After that, it was time to go to the Watusi to listen to some lovely drunk girls read out Olsen slash fiction in bad Russian accents. It was very very entertaining. I got somewhat drunk and melancholy afterwards, which was a bit weird, given how happy I’d been previously. I got to spend the whole day in bed on Thursday though, which was a great way to unwind in preparation for the madness that was to follow.

On Friday I went to the Montana World of WearableArt, which again, you can read about on PPP. I got to go in the media room to hang out with Kowhai and Robyn and Russell Brown and Fiona from Public Address, and drink free wine and stuff my face with spicy nuts. It was a really great show, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Afterwards I went to Hooch with Kowhai to have a heart to heart, and apologise to Johnny for being snapped the week before in the bathroom making out with that girl. He just laughed.

I’d texted Smoo to see if he wanted to share a cab home from work and he told me he’d been robbed, and I was thinking he meant his restaurant, but no, it turns out that our flat was broken into, two days after the neighbours had been burgled. They took my laptop, my eeePC, my iPod, my camera, his playstation, El’s camera and iPod. Needless to say Saturday was somewhat of a blur of phonecalls with the police, talking to the police, being told that we need to be more social in our flat, crying down the phone to my mother, welcome visits from Anji and Bambi – who told me that I’d sent him a drunken email on Wednesday night asking him to tell Tingle to call me and that actually it wasn’t Tingle who tried to climb in my window. Naturally because Bambi is smart, he saw the 2am timestamp on the email and decided to wait until I was sober before he replied to it. I think I might put the math goggles thingie onto Gmail. And my lovely mother came over as well, and then Lisa came by in the evening to watch 21 Jump Street. Sure, the cops who came over were nice, and seemed to know what they were doing, but they weren’t no Johnny Depp. Le Sigh.

On Sunday I went to buy a new laptop (no, I don’t have insurance), and spent the afternoon fighting with Vista. Firefox wouldn’t install, so Chrome is totally my new lover for life now. Then a boy said he’d buy me consolation beers so we went to Hashi Ogazeke, and I bought him a beer from Invercargill that tasted like bacon. He was still there in the morning – and then the afternoon – which is something I am very very unused to, and I didn’t know how to act. Plus, I really wanted to check my email. There have been sleepovers with girls, but the last boy I woke up with would have been Good Tom, all the way back in 2004. Apparently when you have sex with married men, they go home to their wives afterwards and don’t spend the night. Who knew? And I don’t like sleeping in other people‘s beds either. Etc. Anyways. Today continued the lesson that Wellington is a very small place, and that I really do know everyone and everything about everybody.

Yesterday I went to the new bar Betty’s with the lovely Amie to try Tohu wines and find out all sorts of gossip. I will write about that sometime on YASE – the wine and venue, that is. And then I went to dinner at Thai House and Quiz Night where I got to have a good gossip with Anji, which I really do need to update. I didn’t manage to sleep at all though, so I was still awake at 11am waiting for the tsunami. I don’t know what to say about that without sounding trite. The place where Karen and I had an amazing holiday - Coconuts Resort is apparently completely destroyed as are of course many other houses and lives that I have no connection to other than, y’know, having  a heart. So I baked cupcakes for Megan instead, and now I am wondering who will get to see my amazing new dress first.

I really have been having the most excellent week, and it’s kind of making me go “how did I get to be so lucky?” I love the post period period. Period. Lols.

On Wednesday night, I built myself a new site, based on an old zine of mine called You Are So Entertaining. Dot Com.It’s a party/recipe/stuff site, and I hope you like it. It will continue to grow. I could build another site based on my other zine, but really, this site is pretty much BOYS BOYS BOYS BOYS BOYS and 101 Stories That I Want To Tell You anyways. And I don’t get to tell You & Me in the Last Days of Bush ever anyway.

On Thursday I headed out to see Martha at Wanda Harland and plan the opening of her new shop. You can read more about the planning on You’re So Entertaining, in fact.

Then I headed home to prepare Miss Fur’s birthday dinner. We had papas garbanzo, and Karen made PANDA CAKE (based on this bread) and Megan made raspberry umm cobblers, and Shirley just sat and looked pretty. Even though it was her birthday, I still beat Lisa at some singstar songs. Go me!

Yesterday I did some serious work on a comms plan for my old workmate Ros, faffed around with stockings and got dressed up, and then Miss Emma picked me up. I spooged coconut cream all over her house and we had cocktails. Simon did his sexy dance for Lisa, and went to spank me which I found rather awesome, except for the whole being someone’s husband thing. We had tremendous fun and I didn’t even have to use a coaster.

Today I woke up with a hangover and a big pile of compliments (god i ADORE Fatshionista so much! I’m having trouble keeping my clothes on these days). I had trouble starting my car because of the rain, which served me right for asking how many Brents it took to change a lightbulb because he was struggling to fix his headlights, but when I got to Hadyn & Amy’s there was coffee and pastries waiting for me, and it was almost like being in Vanuatu again, only with better coffee and less tropical fruit. Amy and I discussed secret PPP business (we’re coming close to 1000 comments and so the 1000th person will be getting an awesome prize. Also, we’re having another girlie party, possibly on Oct 17ish), and then she cut my hair. Hurray!

After that, she told me many things about her vacuum cleaner, such as how it has a motor in the head as well, that it can stand up by itself without needing to lean on anything, and that she can push it with just one finger. I was entralled. I know I am supposed to say that Beatles Rockband was much more awesome, but really, who doesn’t like a good suck?

Beatles Rockband was fantastic though. I like that there can be harmonising. I also loved singing ‘Here comes the sun’ because of the aforementioned happiness, and how it feels like the ice is finally melting and all. They bought me fish’n chips and I had a very long conversation with Amy about my uncomfortableness with any lack of financial independence, but she said that I give back with generousity. And I did a panda dance for her.

Then! I went out to Newlands to pick up Lisa and also got Shirley and we went to the James Cabaret to see HEAD LIKE A HOLE. Oh my, they were so very awesome after Luger Boa finally got the fuck off the stage. The crowd was all old school, and there were people stagediving, and the bass was all rumbling and my skirt was vibrating, and they played all the songs that i love, and they had a hot girl come out and play the trumpet, and oh, it was just the most giggy gig I’ve been to in a very long time. Love.

And yes, because of all the good feelings that I’ve been having lately, I’ve resolved to try and go a week without saying anything nasty about people I know. I can do this, right? After all, the things I hate the most in other people are the traits that I’m worried that I myself exhibit. And honestly, all this snarking that I do is partly because I’m trying to impress Megan and Emma since they’re both fairly new friends to me, but putting other people down doesn’t really make me happier (although it can be entertaining!) so I might make a conscious effort to stop, for a week, and see how I feel about that. Of course, this only applies to people I know. #TV3news is still very much an open target.

Since I last wrote, the intense bruise on my knee has faded somewhat, but it’s still pretty sore and spectacular.

Since I last wrote, we have opened up the Tiki Shack for summer, and consumed our own body weights in frozen fruity drinks. Well, perhaps just Anna Jane’s bodyweight.

Since I last wrote, I got back the photos that were taken of me in the shack and the back yard. Friends of mine on flickr can see a sampling of them under this tag (warning: I am in my bra in some of the pics, and I look incredibly hott), but because I am so in love with it, I’ll post one pic here:

I am a dusky maiden

Sylvie is a fricking amazing photographer and I highly recommend her for all your photographing needs.

What else? I have been busy on PPP adding in an Outfits of the Day page, which will hopefully soon display any flickr picture tagged with “PPPoutfit”. I have been obsessed with looking at what people are wearing lately. I blame the LJ Fatshionista community, and also Megan for making me do things on Polyvore.

In career pursuits, I have applied for a surprising number of jobs lately, written my first blog post on Open Govt, and I’m working on some advice for Community Central including how not to be a dick on Twitter. That last post was on my portfolio site, which I’ve also spent a lot of time working on. I have been writing a lot on a lot of places. I have been having many thoughts.

In more important news, it’s the Miss Fur‘s birthday today! Lisa it’s your birthday, happy birthday Lisa! Tomorrow night I am cooking dinner for her and a gaggle of girls. And in exciting lady news a) I’m going to see Martha tomorrow because I am helping to organise the opening of her new store b) I’m getting drunk with Emma on Friday and c) I’m going to HLAH with Lisa on Saturday d) there’s roller derby next Saturday e) Kat & Kane are coming down next Sunday! And at some stage in all of that, Amy may be cutting my hair for the first time in a million years. Joy!

If only I had an income so I could maintain this hectic lifestyle for always. It is nice having leisurely lunches with entertaining friends. If only I had a sugar daddy or mammy. Hmmm…

Because I have been severely premenstrual and hating everything and feeling like I am a worthless piece of shit, I have spent a bit of time contemplating telling everyone everything about everything, burning every single bridge I have and being herded out of town by an angry group of people with pitchforks and torches. But then the lovely Tash sent me a twitter making me promise never to leave Wellington and also wrote me a 140 character poem about how awesome I am, and then there was a vague bit of blood in my gusset and then I felt better.

Today Anji came over because she had the day off, and it was sunny, and she weeded my garden, and I did two loads of washing, and cleaned out the tiki shack, and the mouldy towels and mats and cardboard boxes and other sundry rubbish from the garden, and hiffed loads and loads of weeds over the fence into the nothingness. It was hard work, I tell you. So I am very tired. It was great hanging out with Anji though because I could talk about the things that I can’t talk to anyone else in Wellington about, and this makes me feel all Barbara Kruger like, and all altruistic and stuff, because my silence is other people’s comfort and all that, but also, again, pitchforks and torches. But we had a lengthy discussion about my tendency to sleep with people that I have no risk of falling for after I’ve had my heart broken (see this and this and this (although that one backfired) etc) in an attempt to safeguard myself again. Etc.

And then to continue on that note, I went for a drink with the girl from Saturday night tonight,  and we were having a grand old time, and then boy #2 from that night also showed up and I found that hilarious because they were all not talking much and I was talking lots, and I adore Johnnie at Hooch so much. But I was very sober, so I took off to bus home and be talked to by strange women on the street surprising me out of my loud Interpol head noise. Tonight I’ll rest my chemistry instead.

You guys like role-playing right? Okay, so let’s pretend for a minute that you’re Jonathan Davis of Korn fame. You’ve dealt with my urge to call you Jonathan Brandis, and you weren’t on Seaquest and you didn’t kill yourself. You wrote some tunes that some people stood around in a circle in a lounge in Johnsonville when the parents were away pretending to headbang to, and you wrote the soundtrack for a dreadful movie that Stuart Townshead wore leather pants in and looking very fucking hot and so much better than Tom Cruise in. So, your guitarist quits, and goes off to write a tell-all book, and become a born-again Christian. Do you use your down-time to help puppies and also to train your bassist to wear his bass up around his middle not his knees, or do you learn to play the bagpipes?

Yeah, exactly.

So I wrote a journal entry last night, as you have no doubt read. Since that time I had a nice sleep, I drank some coke, I watched some episodes of America’s Next Top Model (I am totally on Team Isis and love Faux-Kimora for her open mind. And there’s just been the Irene Cara ‘Fame’ song on TV and I’ve realised that pretty much the entire cast is Isis, not least because of their bad hair). Then I got my shit together and put on my old red dress and went into town and Cafe Istanbul for Megan‘s redrunkening.  Her friends were mostly couples but I won’t hold that against her, and also I was amused to see the girl I used to work for at Ausm/Debate and we had a quick bitch session. I couldn’t believe how busy Istanbul was, and we managed to try to leave at the same time as another big table of cute lesbians so it took forever to do the bill and pay.

Then we went to the Taste of Korea to do karaoke. As is my way, I grabbed a mike and opened things with ‘Wanted Dead or Alive’ as I always rock the fuck out of that on Rockband. Our Soju “cocktails” were neither strong nor actually cranberry flavoured (raspberry miranda is NOT cranberry) but people warmed up eventually and we all sang some more. I ended up getting another hour, and because I didn’t know the people I didn’t ask for any money, which possibly was not the best financial decision ever, but Megan got the first hour, so whatever. Anyways, so mostly I sang power ballads. I sang “Sweet Child’O Mine” because I now take any chance to exercise old demons. And then I sang ‘Careless Whisper’ but I am too used to the Gossip version, and also having the lyrics up on the screen was like a punch in the face. As these things go. But anyways, I fucking adore karaoke like so much. I could sing all night.

Except that we only had two hours and we finished on “We are the world” and most people went home, so I went up to Atomic to find Karen. I couldn’t spot her on the dancefloor initially, but I did spot Smoo and Blair out on the balconey so I hung out with them for ages,  before I went and had a sweaty dance (I was all in synthetic fibres, stinky) and found my friends. I alternated between dancing and hanging with the boys after that. Acgtually, I also managed to combined the two, making Blair slowdance with me to OMD’s “If You Leave” as a tribute to John Hughes.  Blair and Smoo had some guy with them who managed to believe that Karen and I were identical twins – after I sadi that I’d eaten all the pies. He did some clever detective work, asking me what my birthdate was, and then asking her, and strangely enough, she said the same date. Karen was in very fine form that night, saying that there had been quite a few young boys hitting on her that night, including the duck – “but then again, I am moving/have a pulse. Not that I think he’s that fussy.”. Blair and Smoo didn’t seem to accept “Not married!” as a justification for anything, and if you add that to the fact that Smoo has a cricket bat in his room for chasing intruders then you’ll understand why i left a note on his door when I got home telling him that I fricking adore him. And now it’s 4am, and kebabs have been eaten, so let’s finish this journal and maybe have sleeps, yes?

Right now I kinda wanna tweet “Hey weirdo, my window is open again. At least if you rape me while I’m sleeping I’ll get a proper hard good dicking & stop being a lesbian…” But I can’t. Because that’s 141 characters. And also that wouldn’t fit in a “oh wait, too soon?” or a #iamdeconstructingyearsoffeministtheoryandalsobadpeoplejudgementandtakingthepissbecausethisissuchawrongopiniontohave,andalsoitkindafreakedmeoutsoofcourseiammakingjokesaboutit hashtag.

And in things that would only make sense if you’ve figured out the secret code of this site as opposed to the old one (it is no longer the source code and as another hint it rhymes with what Glen and Rebecca and Amy are) I had a wall-touching moment just before when I was peeing just now. It was kind of amusing. But let’s backtrack back up to this morning, when I discovered that although webstock satchels are awesomely strong and enabled me to carry two bottles of wine to dinner at Emma and Simon’s last night, but apparently they did enable those two bottles to crush the leg off my new sunglasses. And you know how fucking difficult it was to find those glasses!

But oh yes, in further backtracking, dinner was a magnificant thing. I ate amazing mushroom bourgouin, and delicious bread, and average green beans (I don’t want all the praise to go to Emma’s head TOO much) while I heard the most adorable D&D related story that I’ve ever heard. And then there were cats on my lap, and faces in Emma’s pudding, and Simon did his sexy dance for me, which LITERALLY (my loud English neighbour says “literally” a LOT when she’s not necessarily meaning figuratively, but the literally is sort of superfluous. But in this case, I know I say I do things a lot, like omg I totally died,  but I didn’t actually die etc) made me go “tehehe!” and almost blush but not quite. There were a lot of eyebrows.

And now we come to the total and utter degregation and humiliation of a WINZ seminar. I was in a group with two people who maybe aspired to work for a supermarket, maybe. This should not have been a group discussion, no way, no how. It wasn’t fun for me and I’m sure it wasn’t fun for them either. Hey, did you know that jobs are advertised in the newspaper? And also online? And sometimes places aren’t hiring? I wrote UGH in my notebook in a very steady stream.

After that I felt disgusting and gross and violated and so fucking dirty and disheartened and untalented and every other bad adjective in the world, but luckily, it was time for me to text Megan and go and meet her for lunch. Because the day was so gorgeous, we went to Beach Babylon on Oriental Parade. We basked in the sun, and the food was tasty, but the service was pretty terrible. I’d almost call it appalling except that I know they were dealing with a broken till at the time. Megan is one of my current favourite people right now because I get to gossip with her about other people and she knows almost all of my secrets but not quite all. I still haven’t told her that I’m actually Batman, for example.

Tonight was Karen’s dinner at Miyabi and it turns out that their chicken teriyaki is battered and deep-fried beforehand. Excellent. Then there were drinks at Watusi and I got to see Jane from Green Land who I miss insane amounts and is  one of my main motivating factors for kind of wanting to work in Molesworth Quarter again, even if it means work drinks at the Back Bencher, but if it means Green Land coffee and Green land scones, and love from Paul and Jane then maybe it’s worthwhile? I mean, apart from the actual job of course, which would be great. Speaking of jobhunting in a not related to WINZ way, I got a call from someone I’d interviewed with a couple of weeks ago, inviting me to go to WOW, so that was nice. I like people who like me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Despite all my statements on Twitter that I’m gay this month (because yes, you can totally dictate your sexuality like that, weren’t you aware?), mostly June has been a month of birthdays, and that is a fantastic thing, but it has pretty much killed me and my July schedule is looking about as full, and really, maybe it’s time that you guys all started paying attention to the things I say about you all behind your back, because really, I can’t take all this popularity anymore. It’s exhausting!

So anyways, near the start of June, I was supposed to go to Social Innovation Camp, but I was so so tired from presenting about SMS to people, and so much talk talk talk about work stuff, and I was hungover from something, some drinking after work but where and with who I can’t remember, but oooh, a look at my Google Calendar tells me that I had a glasses adjustment (I got new glasses) that day, so now I remember that I thought I lost my glasses that night, which means that i was playing Rockband with a whole bunch of public servants (I eventually found my glasses days later having torn my room apart and uncovering a dead rat under my bed by following a trail of peanuts – my laptop had crumbs on it so I had obviously been eating something while writing crap on the internet drunk, and then I saw a peanut container by my chest, and so if I’d thrown the peanut container there, perhaps I had thrown my glasses there too, and I had – I’m so Veronica Mars it hurts sometimes). I would not be able to function without Google Calendar, I almost had a heart attack when it went down one day oooh la la. Anyways, back to my point. So anyways, on a Saturday at the start of June I had to drag my ass over to Karen’s house to do secret work on Neil’s birthday present, and Amy was supposed to be coming over to make us up, so I was in ratty tshirt and jeans, and I was carrying food, and wine, and I had to walk up three floors because the lift was down, and I walked in the door of Karen’s apartment and then this happened:


Photo by Jed
It turned out that I was having a MOTHERFREEKING CIRCUS FREAK SURPRISE BIRTHDAY PARTY! Have you ever seen me speechless before? No? Well you should have been there really, shouldn’t you? Oh my stars, it was astonishing. There were lions and tigers and bears and creepy hypnotists, and two-headed freaks, and bearded ladies, and kissing booths and cakes with ponies and decorations everywhere and flaming hoops and gypsies and fortune tellers and cupcakes and umm, just go look at photos from Anji and Bambi and Kowhai and Jed’s and my crappy cellphone photos (I can’t find my camera cable). I was truly truly blown away, it was astonishingly awesome. I have never had a surprise party before, and apparently it was rather difficult to plan one for me as I am so hyper-socially-organised, but Karen and Anji and all the other lovelies did a most spectacular job, and I was just like holycrapwowfuck for a very long time. And they read out nice things from people who couldn’t be there, including KateB who had rung the night before to wish me a happy birthday and I had been like “umm, what the fuck? it’s not my birthday for another couple of weeks, how do you not know that?” and she’d been like “oh, umm, I’m drunk” and I’d laughed, but looking back there were a million little pieces that all make sense now. So yes, birthday party. Awesomeness.

There has been a lot of drinking at work lately as well, because of half of our team losing our jobs, and there’s gradual goodbyes, and finishing off of projects, and writing “No, I rocked” as an answer to a personal assessment question about whether I could have done anything better this past year. I’ve finally published the report that I worked on over the summer with the intern, and I’m having my final say about stuff. I cried a little bit when I wrote my last update for the work blog. Then I got drunk. I had birthday dinner with my family at Elements in Lyall Bay which was amazing – incredible service, value and taste, and then last Friday I had a big group dinner with my friends at China Delight, who were delightful and rang me after I’d left to say happy birthday to me again. I have a lot of friends it turns out. There were more drinks at the Hawthorn Lounge after that, even though we’d just been there the week before for Shirley’s 30th. They always give me extra olives in my martinis now.

It’s been so cold that there has had to be lot more drinking because bars are warm. There was burlesque at Bodega that was squirmy. There were long conversations with Canadians at Hooch about the Zombie Apocalypse and the roles that we will all have to play after that. It’s my standard conversational pickup line, obviously. There actually hasn’t been any gayness at all really despite June being Gay Month, unless we count me making $1.50 showing my sailor bra to Anna Jane in the kissing booth at my party, but since I refunded her money because I always give that away for free anyways, it doesn’t really count. It is nice having new friends like Anna Jane, and Kylie, and it is fun to twitter that I’m drinking with Kylie and comparing notes because I am a mean girl.

Wellington continues to be – and in fact grows even more – incestuous but mostly I’m sitting on the sidelines giggling at everyone. I’ve written some mean emails to someone who maybe does or doesn’t deserve it, but they aren’t read anyway. I’ve also written naughty emails to balance out the passive-aggressiveness, because everyone likes that, right? Anji reminded me that I’d been so happy at my surprise party that I promised to not be passive-aggressive to anyone for a whole week, but that didn’t quite work out. I’m surrounded by people all the time and that’s lovely but I’m also kind of lonely sometimes but I know what it is that I want, and I can’t have it, and that’s just that.

I have one full week of work left, and then two days. I am actively applying for jobs, but there aren’t many around that I want. I want to go away to a tropical island for a while but Karen can’t get leave until August. I’m also currently fantasizing about blowing a substantial part of my redundancy payout on this bed which I suppose wouldn’t really be blowing my money away so much given that I spend so much time in bed and I’ve had this one for ten years, but I think I should maybe wait until I have a house of my own in which to put it. I’m not entirely certain I’ve taken my zopiclone tonight (or rather yesterday) since it’s 2am now and I’m not sleeping, so beds are weighing rather heavily on my mind right now. I’m going to use the time without employment to ween myself off the zopiclone very very slowly. I will miss the crazy intense dreams, but I also can’t wait to get rid of them.

Were there other things we needed to talk about? Oh yes, this:

TEN YEARS, BABY! You will come along, right? And finally, if you’re wondering what I look like right now (or rather earlier this evening), here’s a picture of me with a chip cat on my shoulder.