Hubris.co.nz

I’m so so sunburnt. Well, not drastically so, but enough to give me a headache. Too much sun from driving around in the morning in a station wagon this time. I’m actually getting a little tired of traffic, strangely enough.

I got my first pay slip today! It was only for three days work, but now for the first time in the past six months, I actually have a positive bank balance! Xmas shopping here I come.

I talked to Mum on the phone tonight and she asked if I was going to be in Welly for New Years and said that they were going to go tramping in Mt Tongararo. For a minute there I was afraid she was going to invite me along, but she wasn’t. Phew!

I’m assembling my portfolio which means that my mailing list is currently going to get emailed a whole stack’o old articles that I wrote back in 1997. Lucky them.

I only have restricted Internet access at work – “This Page does not appear to be work related – please view it after hours”. How rude!

Brad’s in Australia for the week with Morrison. Jeremy goes away for a month on Sunday. We’re going to buy him a flipping barking dog. Clayton’s going on the 23rd. I am too. But Brad will be back by then, so don’t get any burglering ideas.

All the motels in Taupo are fully booked. I wonder if random people would mind if we just pitched tents on their lawns. I really must get someone to call Jarrod.

“Order! Order!”

I don’t actually spend all of my time drunk. I’m not sure if I’ve made that clear enough recently in my journal. I do actually do other things. Really. I just don’t write about them, although in my head, I’m constantly telling stories.

A couple of days ago, Kate H and I took Brad shopping for a new shirt. We were hoping to be able to end up doing a shopping montage scene, ala Pretty Woman, but he wouldn’t try many things on. Eventually though, we did get him a really cool shirt, and so he bought us coffees.

Shirley dropped lollipops all over my bed today when she came in while I was still sleeping. Well, I was half asleep anyways. Justin had been over much much earlier, and he’s kinda hard to sleep through. I made scones, and we had Sunday Lunch, with her and Kate B and Kate M who was still there although Brad was not. I find it very amusing the way Shirley speaks of her man.

I have a crush on yet another boy after dreaming about him. This amuses me greatly too. I’m 13 again, I swear. I also had a rather horrid dream this morning, in which I was a guy, and abused some women rather badly. That was nasty.

I have three papers worth of work to do still in the next two weeks. If you’re looking for me, I’m imagining you’ll find me at tech. I hope I remember to take earphones. You can go here in preperation for my Expo.

The other night, Brad and I went over to Kate Morrison’s to watch “Bringing Out the Dead”. We stood in her kitchen gossiping while Brad cooked himself dinner, and that was fun. The movie made me think about all sorts of weird things. It was really good and really disturbing too. I borrowed a stack of books of her – teenager crap. Remember Paula Danziger? I finished “The Pistachio Prescription” today, and now I have some “Freshman Year” books to read. I like reading crap when I’ve been reading Literature for too long. I still haven’t made much headway into “A suitable boy”. On the way to Kate’s, because Brad’s car has no radio, he named all the songs that he’d heard on Classic Hits that day, and I sang them. On the way back, we sang Song Association. It was Very.

Yesterday I got lost on the Shore, trying to find my way to Penny’s house. Her fiancee and a couple’o navy guys were there, and I felt quite out of place. They probably thought I was a prissy snobby bitch, and maybe they’re right. It was lovely to see Penny though, but I don’t understand how she could let herself be treated like that. I have quite a diverse range of friends, I think.

Last night Kate M came around and had a few drinks with me and Kate B. Later Kate B and I got ready to go out to the Space party that I described in detail. Brad drew the eyes on our foreheads, in wet coloured pencil, and he even drove us too, lovely boy that he is.

Today I spoke to my mother on the phone. She was all grumpy cos she’d rung three times and I hadn’t answered cos I was in bed. Her and Neil are coming up for the expo, and Anji might too, which would be cool. I got her to test my site for me. I really should stop writing and go to bed now. I should have gone a while ago. I’m just feeling really – I dunno. I haven’t said everything that I’ve been up to lately, you know, so I feel like I’m lying to my general public or something. Well, not lying, but just not delivering all the facts. And it’s not that I’m hiding anything, just that I’ve forgotten all the things I meant to say.

Oh yeah, my main reason for this entry was to put in a link to Adbusters. They were in “No Logo” a lot, and I like. I don’t like flies. Why are there flies in my room? Fuck off!

I don’t like fireworks very much

These are highlights from my journal that I kept in my red book in Australia. Obviously, it’s not everything. I was doing a whole bunch of thinking, and no one needs to read all of that. But these are the entertaining highlight parts.

Sunday, June 18th, 2000

So, on that note, let’s move on to Airport stories, ignoring the obvious parallels between this and my last trip to Australia. It was so lovely, being with Maree and Kate M and Brad and CLayton, the people I’m closest to. And yes, of course I cried. I’m going to be away a whole month, and I feel really bad about leaving Brad with all the responsibility of the bills and with finding us a flatmate. But honestly, this trip has been what has gotten me through the past couple of weeks. I have never needed or deserved a holiday more!

****

Stuff is nifty. My feet hurt from queing though! It took soooo long to get through customs. I got stuck in the middle of a whole bunch of Taiwanese on a package tour. They had a tour guide with them, I think, because he talked a lot, loudly, and everyone laughed. He had Elvis hair, and despite his saggy man breasts and beer belly, he was wearng a tight tshirt. It was truel truely hideous! There is a smell like rotton eggs on this plane, which is pretty hideous too.

I’m really excited about this holiday, despite the fact that I’m going to miss my Auckland friends like crazy. It’s going to be really good for me to spend some time alone and record my thoughts. I don’t have to be scared about what I’m thinking either, which is a pleasant change. You know what? I am so proud of myself for surviving when I thought I couldn’t. I mean, I know I broke down and begged Thomas to help me, but when he didn’t, I managed to pull through. Thank god for Shirley and Maree, and Mum especially. All my _friends_ mean so much to me. I want to make them proud of me by taking better care of myself.

Oh, the plane is taking off now. Bye bye Auckland! I wonder if we’ll crash. I don’t think I’d mind – not because I want to die, but because I feel really at peace right now. I’ve had my breakthroughs and everything. Oh dear, I think I’m going to cry again. I _always_ fucking cry at airports, although never before as bad as the last time.

You know, Kara has never seen me sober. Oh dear, she must think I’m a fucking fruit bat. Brave girl, I think she’s lovely. Clayton shouldn’t have been talking about Shirley in front of her. Neither should I. Damn. Ahh well. He’s such a sweetie, I hope they’re happy together!

*****

I think I have developed an unnatural obsession with my drink. I am amazed at how the lemon slice perfectly fits half the glass. I’m intrigued by the bubbles, and wondering how the fuck they could be drawn. I want to scan my glass and use it for a background for Hubris. I need to redesign. I want floating text over a fixed background. It looks like there’s a bullet mark in my window. I could see the bullet moving in slow motion through the window into me, and it just felt like the needle last time they took my blood. There was a _lot_ of vodka in this drink, I think. Oh, they’re serving dinne! It must be all of five pm. How Grandma! I’m still very full from my Pork McRib, but I’ll have a pick at it anyway. The pork McRib was very disappointing, unsuprisingly since I’ve been waiting 3 weeks for it. BUt still, it was good to have a goal!

Ohhh I have reached the very middle of this book. That is very cool. I only wish there was more good writing in this book, instead of dumb babble. Do you think I will ever be published? I’d so love that. I wish I could write a novel, something that would affect other people. I know I’m not supposed to talk about this, but the thing I am most terrified of is that I had no impact on Thomas at all, that I haven’t been significant to him. I know that was the case with Morphine Matt, and both of them affected _me_ so profoundly. I would hate it more than anything if I just didn’t matter to Thomas, if I hadn’t changed or enhanced him in any way.

Chicken or beef? Chicken or beef? Chicken I think. I wonder if I’ll eat again in Melbourne. Probably. But we might save Mihn Mihns for another night. Damn the vegetarian meal smells nice. I am so not hungry though. I had chocolate covered coffee beans and red bull for breakfast today. It made me babble lots, all that caffeine. I think everyone thinks i am looking better too. Sure, I’ve probably put back on the weight I lost (looser jeans were fun!) but maybe I have my spark back. I thought it was gone for good. What’s that Leonard Cohen line? “Thanks for the trouble you took from her eyes – I thought it was there for good, so I never tried”. Well, maybe one day I’ll meet the brother that will make me truely happy.

Witty banter again – the plane wings look awfully flimsy. I wonder if they are made from paper, and if that is completely legal. I should go find a bathroom sometime. After the meal. It’s okay – airplane toilets are too small to kneel in. I rememebr dancing around in my underwear last night in the handicapped stall at Roasted Adiquition, in between sari re-arrangements. Sassy! I’m so glad Shirley liked my speech – I just didn’t know how to do justice to all the things that she’s done for me.

The clouds look just like icebergs. I wonder if I’ll see any dancing penguins. Who the fuck came up with that concept, anyways? I mean, what links chips and penguins??? Oh wait, i guess they ARE called Bluebird. But penguins seem to show up in the oddest places. I mean, Squirt? Linux? What’s going on? Is there some secret penguin conspiracy? Maybe the Emperor penguins are taking themselves too literally.

I think coke should go back to 500mls, and the price should go down again. Fuck that dollar sixty stuff. Oh sorry, that came from me thinking about the 250ml cans you get on aeroplanes. In Japan, coke sometimes comes in 200ml cans, like Red Bull, only they have pull ring tabs that come right off, which are far more dangerous. Oh my god, I remember drinking like, cocoa and shit out of cans too. Here comes the drinks trolley again. But I’d better not. I feel drunk already.

Well, dinner’s over now, and I’m enjoying dessert. It was Chicken curry – not bad, pretty much like Eastern Curries. Better than the Healthy Choice monstrosity Brad brought home yesterday. I am, I am looking after myself! This custard looks remarkably like (admittedly yellower) semen, but it sure tastes a whole lot better. Oh I want your hot cum all over my tits! I think it’s a lot worse watching porn when you are no longer a naive little virgin. Although, quite frankly, how i managed to go through with intercourse after the penetration shots is beyond me!

****

Mmmm, filter coffee, blarrgh! Oh, AND a Bardot remix. Choysa tea, man. And speaking of tea, man I have embraced it very quickly. Which is a good thing. I am way too on edge. One day I am going to have a shoulder massage that won’t hurt because I’ll be so relaxed. Oh yes, I will! But whilst in Melbourne and Wellington, I’ll drink coffee. I don’t know how i’ll get through the days at the MOE otherwise. Mmmmm Fuel Coffee! And mmmm Fuel Hot Chocolate.

****

I think relationships should come with airsick bags. Motion sickness. Emotion sickness. Oh god, I am quoting silverchair. Just as well I switched to the concert station. Goddamit that coffee is FOUL. I really need to pee, but I think there’s someone in the bathroom. This polynesian guy and girl just walked past. They couldn’t have been more than 17, but they were carrying a baby. What goes on?

*****

We must get into Melbourne pretty soon hopefully. I have steel bladder, I can hold on! Fuck it’s going to be good to see Anji again. Must remember to claim sleeping bag. And ask at the bus counter where to get off closest to Fitzroy. Fuck I’ve written heaps. I’m going to read through again.

Ahh, aeroplane toilets. There’s a sign on the door inside that says “please lock” which I think is really unfair, because like, I’d really prefer for everyone to see me peeing. The rubbish bin has funny pictures of things on it that you’re supposed to dispose of in there – emotion sickness bags, razors, nappys. But then there’s something really weird that I can’t figure out, but I guess it must be a pad. Fucking odd looking pad. Maybe it’s like the real old fashioned kind you have to hook onto a belt thingie, like in “Are you there God, it’s me, Margaret”. Maybe. I’m cold. I want my hoodie. Only no, that’s in the cargo hold somewhere.

What does scratch aeroplane windows? They are always scratched, as far as I can tell, but it’s not like planes drive through foliage or anything. What an odd concept!

I keep writign down little quirky observations just like i keep going to reach for my bag and cellie to check for text messages. Only, no, my cellie is in Auckland, n a bag with my Macy Gray cd, my Geri book, and Ru-bear. I miss them all already!

I don’t get why Channel 7 is so much quieter than the other channels. Maybe I should write a letter of complaint. Ha! Beck is on the crooners’ channel, with “tropacalia”. That amuses me biglots.

Wow, I never knew where Melbourne was on the map until now. 46 minutes left. I’m bored. I need something to read! I want my cellphone and text messaging. Ah well. Maybe I’ll try napping. Oh fuck, I had coffee. Hmm, I need another vodka.

Later:

The airport seemd to take forever to clear. Then I had to find my way to the Skybus, and tere was absolutely nowhere to dump my trolley. I had to take it back into the terminal, where I gave it to some woman so she didn’t have to pay to get herself one (I was at the domestic terminal by that stage). But I managed to get myself onto the bus okay, and the bus driver told me to get off at Franklin Station. I was so so tired at that stage, and I just started thinking about how badly lost I got the last time. Plus, I think all the stress of the past month really started catching up to me, and I just about started to bawl. But I didn’t.

Getting off the bus, I was faced with the problem of finding a taxi. I’d kinda thought there would be a rank at the bus station, but no. So instead I set out to walk to a busy looking road, with my handbag and a backpack and suitcase and sleeping bag. I was _not_ a happy camper! No cabs passed me by, so I was searching for a rank. I finally came to some huge big building, so I figured there had to be one there. There was – it just had no taxis waiting. But there were about a dozen Asians. We all had to wait at least ten minutes before the first taxi arrived, and then of course, they got it first. A little while later another taxi came along, and i asked if he could take me to Fitzroy. He said he could, but was I first in line? No. So he said he’d call me another one. Then this girl came up to me and said she’d ordered a couple of taxis. She asked me where I was going, and suggested we share, so I agreed. A taxi came along then, and another one for the last of the Asians, and we were finally off. When we got to Napier Street, the girl said not to worry about paying, but the driver suggested i pay $5, so I did. They were both lovely. If I’d had to wait much longer for a taxi, I probably would have cried!

So we sat around in Anji’s lounge, and I met her flatmate Mike. He has two chicks staying with him, Racheal and Ange, who looked really really similar. At first I thought they were sisters, but when I saw them snogging, I realised otherwise. Racheal “did my numbers” for me, and what I read in the book seemed very true. Ange said she’d cut my hair for me, yay! We smoked some pot and had some red wine, then decided to flag going out to dinner because I was too tired, and Anji seemed kinda tired too. Instead, we ordered in Italian. Anji and I shared a vegetarian pizza. Mike brought down his cd mixer, so we played all sorts of music, from Flying Nun classics to very cool techno. Him and Rach had a fight and looked just like Tekken characters. Later they danced very cooly, like someone from Bust-A-Groove. It was nifty. The one downer was when they started playing Beth Orton, but I thought “no, I’m being dumb”. I am going to reclaim music, and create NEW associations for it. So there!

I’m reading Lolita because I feel like I should. Maybe it’ll offer insight into the whole school girl thing!

When I went to bed, I was like “awww I don’t have my teddy bear” so Anji biffed this huge big bear at me that belongs to Timmy. So I slept with that, and it was lovely. The bear was bigger around than Thomas even, but snored less.

Wednesday 10; Febuary, 1999
I couldn’t sleep last night, so i was up till like 4.30am reading “Naked Lunch”. Now, I could sit here and say that I love it, that I can fully understand why it’s considered to be such an important piece of literature, but that’d be lying. Sure, he’s got astonishing descriptions, but a whole ‘novel’s worth is too much. It’s all just short stories and they don’t start and they don’t end and it’s just really bad. Plus, it’s completely nasty, and really scary. So if you have a differing opinion on it, that’s fine. I’m still going to finish it, because I could never put down a book, no matter how bad it was.

I still woke up pretty early though – well, around 11am, because I had calls to make. It’s my mummy’s birthday today, so I wanted to say hi, but she was out so I left a croaky message on her answerphone that sounded like shit instead. I know it sounded bad because I checked her voicemail later. That’s Fun with Phones 101.

I also called Dee, who wasn’t there (which is NOT fun with phones). So I did other stuff instead, tidy and clean a little and stuff like that. I also washed my hair, but it turned out absolutely lousy. Like, I wash my hair every day (if I’m going to be seen in public anyways) because it tends to go quite greasy at the roots, while the ends are too dry. Anyways, it normally looks fine, good, great after I wash it, but today it was fucking shocking. Like, so greasy as if I hadn’t washed it in a week. Honestly, it was that tragic. Oh god, how vain do I sound? It was so icky and greasy. I’m just going to blame the humidity. The fact that there’s no healthy food in the house apart from plums has nothing to do with it, really.

I was going to go to the supermarket, and then i realised that HEY! Clayton’s going to be coming back tomorrow, so why should I spend MY money on food that he’ll eat? I already paid for all the electricity. That sounds petty, but it’s not really. I’ve just become accustomed to living alone.

Anyways, so I was just sitting around, when all of a sudden my cellphone bleeped at me. I picked it up, and was astonished to see a text message scrolling across my screen – something like “stalkstalkstalk hey Jo was just seeing if you were getting showered upon*shags* your #1 stalker”. That completely confused the fuck out of me. I really didn’t know who would have the know-how to send me messages like that. I knew Matt was supposed to be calling me maybe to see if I wanted to go into town, so I rang his cellphone, but when he didn’t answer, I figured it couldn’t have been him, so I rang my momma instead. (More Fun)

She was home this time, so we had a chat. She’d recieved and appreciated my pressie, especially Anji’s breasts (see earlier entry for details). So we nattered away for a while, running up my flat’s phonebill, but I guess I’ll be paying THAT as well as everything else too, goddam it. While I was sitting there catching up on Welly gossip (apparently, they think they can fix my desk chair – YAY says my back) my cellphone rang, so I answered it and it disconnected. Bizzare. However, the great thing about my beautiful Phillips Diga is Caller ID which means TREMENDOUS fun with phones. So once I got off the phone with Momma, I set out to discover who it was that was stalking me.

I rang back the number, and got the Auckland University Students Association Office answering machine. Well, I know I don’t know anyone there, unless I’ve all of a sudden been elected president of a school I don’t even go to, so I had to use my amazing powers of deduction, and figured out that atmos.net was having meetings there today. So I rang Matt back on his cellphone and yelled at him “ARE YOU STALKING ME?”. Hahahahahaha turns out he wasn’t. Still, it was fun to accuse. Roll on the next suspect.

Dee rang me, and came over a little while later. She loved my house, which made me feel warm fuzzies, cos I love it too. It’s so MINE, which is the best thing about it. Like, I can see myself living here for years (sure, and now I’ve said that I’ll probably be forced to move out or something). I guess that’s the good thing about being here alone all the time is that it really gives me a chance to bond with the house. I can’t believe I was so scared that I cried the first night I was here. I guess that’s mostly because there was no power that night, and I was expecting a thousand dodgy people to come a-thumping, when only one of them did really. But moving right along. So yeah, Dee and I gossiped, and caught up and choice stuff like that. She’s always really busy cos she works at Orbit, the resturant at the top of the Sky Tower, but I’ll see more of her once tech starts – especially since we live so close now.

Once she’d gone, I went online to geek a little bit. I was very keen to find out who my stalker was, so I was telling everyone #left right and centre about it. I was talking to Kini (who, incidently, wrote in her journal that she never used to like my journal but now she does, because apparently my writing style has changed – your thoughts on this please) and she was like “did you like my message?”. I thought she was referring to the 8 ICQ messages she’d sent me when I was but NO! Turns out SHE was behind my textmessage on my cellphone. I told Simon about it, and he was like “but doesn’t that cost heaps, to call from Australia?” I was like “well I guess she just thinks I’m worth it then!”. Of course, it turns out that it’s actually free and reaaaaaally easy to do. I’m not going to tell y’all here how, although I may well some other day, when I decide I want more random stalkers, but I posted it to the Vision list. Kini just knows her shit, bro!

I was watching “The Craft” tonight (God, why did I miss John Hannah for that piece of shit?) when I got another textmessage pagey thing. Awwww I so wish I COULD come to your flatwarming, Jo! It was so cool to hear from you!

Now I feel like the sister in ‘Leave Before You Go” doing her sneaky tshirt thing except she made her bit up, and I didn’t. Go read the book if you don’t understand. It’s by Emily Perkins and it rocks.

Um that’s about it, eh. I’m paging people like mad now. Gimme your cellphone numbers if you’re on Vodaphone:

Name:

Number:

And I’ve only just clicked to the “showers” bit now. hahahahahaha.

Monday the 11th of January, 1999

Anji and Karen came over and Mummy made us Tempura for dinner and it was really really yummy. She was such a good Japanese housewife, standing and cooking us some more cos we are all greedy pigs, but she’d had enough to eat. I’m so glad I like food. Sure, I don’t exactly have a spiffing figure, but at least I have FUN!

When we were about to have dessert, Anji was like “Okay, who’s going to spread the jellytip icecream on me and lick it off?” Then she veered off in some other conversation, but made the mistake of standing next to me, and the icecream tub. It was just too tempting. I picked a hunkajelly out and slapped it onto her tummy. She squealed, appropriately surprised, and picked off the lump. But then she wanted me to lick off the remaining traces. I’d never licked someone’s belly before. I can’t say it was all that exciting – despite her belly button ring. Honest we don’t live in Kentucky, just cos she only wore her bra and camos to the dinner table. We’re just um… a very close family. God, you should hear our conversations if you think our actions are bad. Anji’s new short haircut inspired a ‘dykey’ tinged conversation, and oh boy, carpet licking is a weird terminology for your parents to need translated. I remember waaaaaaay back when my mother thought a blow job was something you got done at the hairdresser’s. Not that I was really in the know when I was nine either, but still, that’s to be expected, right?

When I was ten, the trendiest book at school was “Forever” by Judy Blume. Anyone who had a copy passed it around, and we all knew chapters 7, 9 and 16 were the juiciest. The thing that none of us got was that the girl and guy in it kept coming. I mean, they were already THERE in the room, and they hadn’t been anywhere. The phrase came up too much to put it down to a grammatical error, so eventually I asked Karen and Anji what it meant. They refused to tell me and made me ask my mother. She was like “where did you hear that?????” but eventually she told me, which left me even more confused than before. I think ‘white liquids’ were mentioned. Golly.

When I was eight, I stole ‘My Lady, My Vixen’ from Anji, and read most of that, even though I wasn’t allowed to. It was one of those books that had a chick with her dress half ripped off and a brawny guy under giant shiny letters on the cover. I’d been sneakily reading it in my room, but then I left it hidden under my pillow and Mum went into my room to make my bed. BUSTED! I never found out how it ended. I did learn a lot about ‘his pulsating manhood’ though. Ahhhh crazy kids.

All my stuff is packed now, apart from my puter and my stereo. Stress City, man! My parents don’t want me to leave too much stuff for them to take up cos they wanna take stuff up too two days later bringing my stuff up, but Si won’t have much room in his car….. Arrrrrrg. I’m sure I’ll forget something vital.

Shit. This is the end of my time in Wellington, at least until April. Anji’s probably going overseas before then, and she was like “I might never see you again” – drama queen. And Karen might take an unexpected turn for the worst, or anything. Shit. Again.

But nah, it’ll be cool. Okay, Puter’s going into a box now. Say Bye Bye!

See you AFTER.

PS would you be scared to learn you’re being watched from afar?

Tuesday the 5th of January, 1999

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunday the 3rd of January, 1999

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thursday the 24nd of December – Xmas Eve

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wednesday the 23nd of December

Another 8am waking. This is evil. Why does working have to be done at that hoour of the day? Anyways, I was quite busy all day – people came in waves. I didn’t sell a single piece of jewellery though, which is good, because people who want it are always fucking indescisive, and I have to stand there while they hem and haw, since I would have had to open the cabinet for them. People picking over pottery can usually help themselves, apart from asking if the stuff is dishwasher/microwave/candle/being dropped off a tall building proof. In case you’re wondering, it’s all of the above. But I’ll just tell you now – if you drop pottery off a tall building, it’ll shatter. Use those shards to enrich your garden.

Fuck I’m an awesome saleschick. I sold about $1500 worth today, which is HEAPS. More than half of it was Paul Winspear’s stuff. He minded the shop while I went to grab some lunch and say hi to Jo (“Boxing Day!”). I got back to find him selling a $390 piece of his, only he charged them $3.90, because him and the eftpos machine don’t get on too well. Luckily a) the people were going to collect the piece the next day and b) they were honest and came back once they saw the mistake. So I rang up that sale correctly. Shit, did I just say ‘rang up that sale” ? How American can I be? I love zapping cards throughth the eftpos machine. Changing the roll in it wasn’t so much fun though.

Momma came into the shop in the afternoon and minded it while she sent me off to get Cousin Jacinta an Xmas pressie. I also got Karen a silver and green bead necklace from the lovely Jo at Narnia. Weren’t those books the BEST? Except once I realised how Christian they were. That sort of killed their rosy glow. But I digress.

In the evening, Amy and I went to see ‘Stella Does Tricks”, only it had finished its season, so we saw “Love and Death on Long Island” instead. It was quite good, I thought – Jason Priestly taking the piss out of himself. It was really nice to spend quality time with Amy too. She lost a ten dollar note somewhere between the ticket counter, and the table we sat at, three metres away. Truely truely bizzare stuff. It just vanished into thin air. I tried to pretend like she was just going crazy, but no! Apparently we both are. Sigh. I’m senile at 18. Then again, maybe there’s a black hole operating around me. I lost three eftpos reciepts today, and I haven’t got the faintest idea how, since I always put them straight into the cash box. I lost my wallet at the Rialto in sixth form too – maybe the two events are connected.

Afterwards, since all we’d eaten for our evening meal had been a large box of scrumptious popcorn, we went to Axolotl and had not one, but two plates of nachoes – the kitchen fucked up and cooked them twice. Yay. It’s so good, knowing the people I know. We had a really really good long chat too, which is Yay (good england!). I’m going to Midnight Mass with her tomorrow – but ONLY because she asked, and because we’ll go with her (scary) parents who know the owners of the Big Sleazy so we can get free drinks. I’m such a whore for alcohol. OOoooooooh scary thing happned today – I whored myself out for POTTERY of all things. Paul had this gorgeous purpley pinky plattery bowl in the shop today, and I fell instantly in love with it. It was priced at $90 – I knew he’d let me have it for less, but it’d still be expensive, so I asked him if I could do his next duty (on the 29th) for him in exchange. He was thrilled at that idea, so I get the platter. Now I’m worried, cos I normally hate and despise pottery. Hmmmmmmmmmm. Oh yeah, it’s for the good of the flat. That’s right. I’m sacrificing myself for group benefit. Besides, it’s not like I’ll have much else to do on the 29th – and I bet the shop will be deserted anyways.

I went to Midnight Mass last year too. I hate carols. I hate organised religion. Why am I doing this???

Oh, weird thing that happened, just before I go – I got an authorization request from this chick on ICQ saying she’d seen my page and she wanted to talk to me about it. Intrigued, I authorized her, and added her to my list too. This was a couple of days ago. I’ve been to her website and she’s a 15 year old American girl. We live in different time zones, and she hasn’t left me any messages. How bizzare. I sign people’s guestbooks, or if they really turn me on (like, not sexually), I’ll email them. Never ICQ. That’s just weird. That said, if you wanna ICQ me, by all means, go ahead!

Friday the 18th of December

I got up today before 11am, out of my own gumption. Are you impressed? I guess the loud mixer going in the kitchen added a little extra inncentive, but that’ll be our little secret, okay? Mum was making the desserts for the Bakehouse Xmas party we’re having on Saturday night,so I helped her with those. We made a biscuit log

1. whip cream with icing sugar and cocoa
2. dip biscuits in sherry and sandwich together with the cream in a long line
3. leave it in the fridge for at least a day
4. cover with more cream and chocolate
5. serve in slices cut on the diagonal

it sound simple but if it sits for long enough, the biscuits turn into really rich cake and it’s absolutley gorgeous. Don’t tell me that this journal never does anything for you!

We also made rum pudding, which is super nice and is basically just eggs, cream, sugar and lots and lots of rum. I have such weird memories of food. Like for example, one time we were staying in a hotel in Austria, and I got left behind for half a day everyday while the rest of my family went skiing. Although I couldn’t have been more than four, I was a really good skier, but just was too young to last the whole day. Anyways, I think there were two other kids in the day care, and one day, the woman that was looking after us took us in a special lift right into the hotel kitchen, and we were each given a bowl of something that tasted like rum pudding. It was like the yummiest thing I’ve ever eaten. I tell you, my memory is probably too strong for its own good.

But yeah. So that was the morning. I did three hours at Leonie’s again, doing more typing and more cateloging. It’s easy work, except that my wrists started to get a bit sore, which probably isn’t very good. Just so long as my back doesn’t get fucked up again like it did in September. That was such hell. I thought for half a day that I had haemarroids cos it hurt SOOOOO much to sit down, before Karen asked me “what sort of chair do you use?”. Since the answer was that I use a chair whose back had broken off, I figured it out. Fuck it was good to not have haemarroids!

In the evening, I dropped Mum in town for Neil’s Xmas party, and went back home to veg for a while. Around 10pm I went into Smacksalot, to wait for the olds to call me for a ride. The place was hella busy, but since Joseph and Mark were there again, I went to sit with them. I was going to order dinner, since Mum had given me some money, but then Anji plonked a plate of thai chicken down in front of me for free… Yummmmmm. Steph was crying, so I think she’d fully fucked up an order or something. She got happy again after a couple of drinks, and I sat listening to her and Siobahn’s stories in absolute hysterics.

A friend of theirs was with a guy with a really small penis one time. Eventually she said to him “Can you stop fingering me and get on with fucking me please?” He was like “what are you talking about? I’ve been going hard for the past fifteen minutes”. Whoops!

So that kept me entertained for a while. Gregor came and sat with us too, and I asked him if he was still at IBM, which he was. He asked me if I was still in school, and I was like “No – I was at AIT in Auckland all year”. He was like “FAAAAAAAAARRRRK I’m out of touch”. It was really funny. As soon as Anji finished her shift at like 11, she went shopping with Aaron, since the Markets were open till midnight. I didn’t mind staying in Axolotl though, since I know all the staff, and the lads were still there. But then they decided to go play pool, and asked me to go with them. Well, I’ve always had a tiny crush on Joseph, and I figured Mum and Neil wouldn’t call me until midnight, so I agreed. I asked Steve, the owner, to tell my parents I’d be back in half an hour if they did call, anyways.

But then Joe and Mark decided to go to Coyote instead of to play pool. There I was, in like my derelict too baggy jeans, an op shop dress that isn’t very styley, no makeup, my glasses perched on top of my head, a useless bra, and a wallet that was too big to go in my pockets. Sigh. So I looked like crap, but I still went anyways. There was an awesome house dj playing in Coyote, so I went as hard as I good being sober, poorly dressed (jeans falling down) and carrying my wallet. I stayed for about twenty minutes, leaving after they played Armand’s Startrucking remix of Proffesional Widow. That’s like my all time favourite song to dance to in the whole world. I only wish I could’ve stayed longer, had been drinking and looked better, cos Joseph was really drunk. HAHAHAHAH fuck I’m traj.

So I went back to Smacksalotl, and just had time to order an iced chocolate from Louise before my parents rang. The perfect crime. They never had to know about my detour. Rock On! So that was the highlight of my night. Oh joy, drunk potters and other assorted loosers at my house tommorrow. Oh Joy, my mother stressing over cleaning. Oh double joy, MUm drinking and spading Paul!