Hubris.co.nz

Hi, I’d like to spend about a grand and a half with your store today. What’s that? You’d like to continue standing behind your counter? All three of you? Okay, I guess I’ll sit down on this big couch for a while. Boy, it is a comfy couch. I’d sure like to buy it. I wonder how I could go about doing that. Maybe you could tell me? Oh no, you’re still standing behind your counter. Okay. Maybe I’ll flounce on over to the fabric samples and flip through them for a while. In fact, why don’t I take them over to the couch and spread them out and stand back to admire them? And then go and get some more and try them too. Wow, that counter sure must be nice to stand behind. I guess I’ll park my fatass down. Boy, you’d think that crossing my legs like this would have got your attention…..

House update:
Two big purple couches ordered – finally. One washing machine purchased on trademe. I’m going over there tonight to talk about Storage Options. Oh joy.

Lunch update:
Raspberry coke tastes like cough syrup. It would be better with vodka in it. Then again, name me one drink that wouldn’t taste better with vodka in it. Wishbone risone pasta salad is still kickass, though I’d be curious to know what the supposed difference between orzo and risone is (Jimmy?). Vanity Fair is great, I would like a subscription.

Cat update:
Pixie, who has been hiding in Mum & Neil’s room most of the time lately, ventured out last night. Unfortunately, Sebastian wasn’t actually outside as I believed him to be, and so when he saw her and she ran for sanctuary he followed her back in before i could shut the door, and went and hid under the bed where I couldn’t reach him while Pixie sat and cried. He’s such a badass sometimes. He’s still my snugglewugglepoodlewoodle though and I will hate leaving him.

Holiday update:
Sarong hemmed. Three more sleeps!

Me update:
After having lunch with the Wellingtonist crew, I am feeling somewhat more pressure to write about Wellington. Of course though, since I’m a JOURNALLER rather than a blogger (motherfucker!), mine will be a long tale of woe and heartbreak and sanctuary. Naturally.

Okay, so it’ll be eight people for dinner tomorrow night (and I hope that you, Mr Noizy, will be losing sleep over your lack of RSVP! I know you’ve been reading, I know you’re not in New York.). Now I’m sure that you’re already bringing wine, because you’re polite young people, but Jessie said that my last post on the subject was a little confusing, so let me spell it out – in addition to the wine which I have no doubt that you are bringing, it would be great if you could bring a piece of cheese. I think Jessie mentioned that she likes blue cheese, (unless she was trying to wind me up), so perhaps a brie and a something else could be dividied up between the two remaining of you? Tonight there will be much cleaning and cooking and planning of social introductions. As I just said in an email, sometimes I think I am a Stepford Wife.

In other things that aren’t my dinner party, on Wednesday I went to see In Good Company and consequently I am in love with Topher Grace all over again like the second season of that show. It was a really funny really nice movie, although Scarlett Johansson didn’t wear enough low cut tops. Um, not that I’m shallow or anything. But you should check it out.

Last night Anji and I went to look at a flat in Mt Vic. It was art deco with wooden floors. Luckily the landlady had a phobia of cats, because it was $375. In half an hour I’m going to go and look at a workman’s cottage in Mt Cook. It is sunny today so I can assess how damp and dark it will be.

The cats are stressing me out with their differing needs. I have finished reading Feel although I never wanted it to end. I must make a dinner party playlist of music. Today’s big drama at work was all about the total lack of toilet paper in our building and how it took the other building two hours to get us some. Shocking. There’s toilet paper now, however, so I might end this here.

Oh actually, just before I go – Karen and I had dinner at Coco last night, and when I ordered a glass of shiraz THE GIRL ASKED ME FOR I.D. Oh my fucking god. I will accept that in supermarkets and liquor stores, but in a cafe????

Apparently according to a certain forum’s certain-wind-me-up member, I have no right to be personally offended by alleged homophobia. Riiiight. Heather said yesterday (before that last post actually) “when you posted yesterday I had visions of you storming around the office with snakes waving around your scalp and laserbeams coming out your eyes. Actually, it wasn’t an unpleasant image.”

I am actually Medusa. Didn’t you realise? Oh no that’s right, you didn’t, and now you are stone. Ha ha, sucks to be you. I guess you’re not interviewing one of the most influential producers/now musicians of the late 20th century this afternoon – but if you do have any questions for me to pass along, please feel free to pop them on. Should I give you a clue who it is? Nevermind.

Hehehe. Fuck I’m hilarity. Yes, personified.

This past weekend was very cultured – there was Swan Lake by the Russian Imperial Ballet company, which was very grand and great, except that it had a happy ending (I know, right? Also: oh dear, did I really just say “I know, right?” ? I am totally turning into Lindsay Lohan. All hail the boobs), and then a surprise party for an ex workmate, who was apparently surprised although I got there late. A very scary woman who had been drunkenly grabbing everyone’s asses asked me out to the ballet and I declined. When she was like “ARE YOU TURNING ME DOWN?” I had to try to politely wrangle my way out of it.

On Saturday I did nothing much at all, which was great. Oh, I made corn & zuchini fritters based on a pikelet recipe and they were great. On Sunday morning Momma dyed my hair for me. I wanted the new bright bright red that Napro Live has, but in deference to the swag of job interviews that I have this week (well, two) and in anticipation of some more (although I hope not) I went with a dark brown which is actually a little more maroony than I first thought. Then we went to see Pegasus Moon which is a collaboration between the dance and the drama students at Toi Whakaarei that Brad was in. Since Toi is housed in the old show buildings, their theatre is a huge empty space, so when we first went in, it was so black apart from the lights on the bleachers that I had no idea about the depth of its space. I thought “this is just like in the House!” for a while, and then I stopped and contemplated how both Heather and EM raved at length about the book, and I loved it though it freaked me out too much, and then how both Karen and Brad were like “meh” when they read it. Nevermind. The dancers were all very attractive people, and I found myself doing a lot of oggling – just like at the ballet. I think I should get myself neutered.

Then last night Brad came around for dinner and the-week-before-last’s O.C and a recap of what i’d read on the televisionwithoutpity.com’s recap of last week’s episode which I’d neglected to tape, and then we watched Mean Girls with the commentary subtitled turned on. We made a tentative date for next week to watch another episode (since i’ll miss this week’s cos I’ll be at my GOODBYE DRINKS), and also Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen. Exciting! I can’t talk about Lindsay Lohan without expressing my appreciation of her boobs. It was choice.

And in an end of the day update: Joanna Vig has quite a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? Lovely man. So quotable.

Here’s a lesson for you all. If you’re planning on moving house on a hot summer’s day, it’s probably a good idea NOT to drink nearly four bottles of bubbly the night before. Yes sure, it’s fun at the time, but you’ll pay for your happiness. What makes yesterday’s hangover even more infuriating is that everyone else there wrote gleefully about not having one.

But my (now ex) flatmate J’s 30th party was good. Hubrettes in attendence included Jess, Jessie, Jimmy and Joel. In fact, that was all the Hubrettes. Karen was also there for a while, but she left pretty early. We mostly sat in the garden and talked. Once everyone had left I wandered down the road to another party by myself, where I danced for ages. Then I wandered back home and danced for ages. The vibes at the two parties were totally different, which was interesting. I felt like I was on a very very mild trip, it was grand. Then when I checked the time it was 4.30am, so I went to bed, despite the noise, and turned off my tv sometime after 5am. I nearly saw the sun rise.

Stupid fucking sun. SO HOT. Moving is horrible. Sebastian being freaked out by being put in the van is horrible. Having to get up before 8am is horrible. Reconciling to the fact that I’m now living with my parents again is pretty horrible, because it makes me feel like I did NOTHING last year, and accomplished nothing. That’s never cool.

<B>Friday</B>
<LI>Handing in my notice
<LI>Job interview at lunchtime. The one question that stumped me was “how would your colleagues describe you?” I confessed to having just resigned so they would probably use a few choice words about me, and then talked about last year’s colleagues instead. Then the interviewers all left me alone in their office with assorted laptops to go get lunch while I did a test. I wonder if part of the test was them spying through spyholes at me. I don’t mind if they did because they also bought me a smoothie. I would like that job please.
<LI>BBQ with Karen and Mummy and Brad, and much foodage. Later we tried to make s’mores although the biscuits were stale and it took a long time to get the fire going again. Have I mentioned how disturbing it is that my parents turn Mum’s 80kg gas bottles into flame throwers in order to start the BBQ in their outdoor potbellied pottery fireplace? No? Well it’s really disturbing. What was less disturbing, and in fact, great, was watching two hours of <I>The O.C</I> goodness (last week’s episode for Brad’s benefit first).

<B>Saturday</B>
<LI>Dinner with Mummy at Daawat in J’Ville. J’Ville has a bar now! What goes on?
<LI> 1000ml bottles of Banrock Station are back. Hurray!
<LI>Drinks at Jessie’s, followed by a party in Mt Vic, and then Indigo. I networked all comms like! I plotted all politically like on the deck of Indigo. Random girls made me try their random drinks! All very exciting stuff.

<B>Sunday</B>
<LI>’Home and Away’ Omnibus.
<LI> <I>The House of Flying Daggers</I>. Oooh pretty.

<B>Today</B>
<LI>Guess which magazine has pages laid out in COMIC SANS this week?
<LI>Tonight I am going to take Jessie to The Shins. I only know that one song, but hey, if y’all knew I had free tickets and didn’t go, you’d probably spit at me, right? Plus, hopefully I can get Jessie to <strike>put out</strike> buy me a beer in gratitude. Or something.

So my mother has osteoarthritis. I just found out this morning, after we’d been to breakfast at the local cafe which was blasting out Appetite for Destruction (which i <3 and would love to receive a copy of). Her mother had it, and Anji's doctors suspect she has it, so chances are that I will have it too. I know she's probably a bad example of worse case scenarioism, but they're going to Morroco soon, and she's all "I need to get things out of the way this year because I won't be able to do them next year". While I don't know how much of that is true, it's still kind of fucked. She can't even knock on doors cos her fingers are so sore right now.

We drank a lot of wine tonight. Boy did I need it. Here's a pop quiz for you. Which disturbing line has the new editor said to me in the past couple of weeks?
A) "I'd like a milk chocolate sante bar please - I don't like dark chocolate"
B) "I really love the music from The Phantom of the Opera”
C) “I have never seen an episode of ‘The O.C’”
D) “I love it up the butt with three fists please”
E) Everything but admitting to the buttsex

Yeah you know how it is.

Last night, after I’d stayed til almost 9pm proofreading (and I didn’t get to do the whole magazine, and based on the half that I did, I wish that my name wasn’t on the other half – although i’m sure that my dislike of the music pages for example is that it’s no longer Hott Boy writing them), I saw a hunched old lady carrying bags up the hill and since my parents had left me the van at the station I offered her a ride home. She said she lived on the big street that goes past where you turn off to where i live, so it wasn’t very much out of my way. However, when we got to her place, she stopped and chatted for a very long time. She’d just had a couple of her teeth replaced at over two grand each. She’d just had some verucas off except that she thought they were corns. She asked me where I lived and I gestured. She asked em what I did and in the same breath if i was a mother. Okay, I was driving a van in Suburbia, but it still felt weird. For some reason I said that I was a student. I suppose ti was because I knew that if I said what I did, I’d have to explain it, and she’d ask me if I liked it, and I’d be all FUCK I HATE THAT SHIT, butr I just wanted her to get the fuck out of the van. She told me that she’d studied various things trying to cure her ‘illness’ – she was talking about being crazy – and had done a B.A in Philosophy and Psychology. Her father was an English professor and her mother was one of only 3 women in her accountancy degree. She built her house 25 years ago when she was 40 but it still didn’t feel like a home. She studied yoga in India trying to fix herself. I know too much about her. Please just get out of my car. It made me realise though that what I really want is a baby, to not have to do my fucking job that I hate. It’s so hard trying to actually have a career. I believe that raising good healthy children is a valid (and important) lifestyle, so why can’t I do that instead?

Today was teh suck. However, tonight The OC is the greatest show in the entire world ever (except for Buffy).

Oh, I should point out to you that if you’re a Hubrette, and you get a message that says something like “you need to be logged in to read this entry”, and you’re all like, but dude, I’m totally logged in, well, chances are that the entry is at a higher level than your status. What you need to do is comment more, and then I’ll move you up, and we’ll be closer than ever. Hooray!

I think whoring mysef for a living is wearing me out. If only I could just lie on my back and spread my legs and let them have full access to Hilary, that’d be fine. It’s the trying to rattle up business that drives me crazy. Still, I made over 14k today, which is nice.

Oh yes, Hilary. Today I observed that in this bra, Mary-Kate & Ashley collectively look like Lindsay Lohan boobs (ie: hott but padded), so I figured why not try for a full set – plus, I can go all cockney rhyming slang with Hilary Duff/Muff. Oh the hilarity! And oh the hilary! And if I ever feel political, it can become Clinton, not Duff.

Not that Hilary is going to be doing any campaigning any time soon (or promotional tours, or singles, or what have you). It’s kind of distressing to think that even if people were queuing up to get in, I just don’t know if I want to. I think my confidence has been shattered by the puke incident (I was supposed to be great, and yet all of a sudden I develop a gag reflex? What’s that all about?) but also I’m disgustingly still pining for another boy. Nevermind.

In happier news, there’s a Red Wine Cake baking in the oven, although it sucks that the recipe giver will be leaving the country very shortly. Also, if I counted correctly, there’s only 101 sleeps until I GO TO FIJI. Wahoo! I will be staying here and going on this (and if you see the words “open bar” and presume that’s how Kate and I picked it, well, you’d probably be almost right), if you want to book your tickets now to stalk me. On a stalking note, you know how people talk about how owners get to look like their dogs? Who knew the same happened between husbands and wives (although maybe they’re the same thing), and that a person could go from logging on five times a day during the high drama period a couple of weeks ago, desperate to figure out what was going on, to going cold turkey?

In TOTAL HAPPY NEWS, you know how it was like, no more sleeps today when the good thing was supposed to happen? Well it happened at work. Hoepfully it’ll happen at home too. Soon.

What else do I have to tell you? Probably not very much. My father’s wearing my pearls right now, which is vaguely disturbing. He also hasn’t got the hang of when something’s widescreen and when something’s not, but hey, nevermind. Mum’s trying to figure out Morocco, cos they’re going there soon. Hopefully I will have a flat by then, of course. Katy gets back soon, and then we’ll have the incredibly fun task of flatfinding. She wants Mt Vic. I’m dubious. Nevermind. We’ll see.

Okay, it’s time for me to go and take Marie Antoinette’s advice and eat cake. Wahoo! Oh yeah, and if you’re new, and not a Hubrette yet, and you’ve just come here from Bizgirl (like most of you do), and you’re like “omg, this girl has just told me about the name she’s given her vagina, and I don’t know who she is, and wtf?”, well, get used to it. And do come back. But you know how people write about what they think about? Well I’m like the Korn song, so be warned.(Also, how fucking cool is it that The First Lorelei was renting out her house to Korn? Even though Korn suck.) However, since my image directories are down, y’all can imagine me as being the hottest bitch in the world, and that will be cool. I am, you know. Just maybe like, two or three of the hottest girls stuck together. With a normal amount of arms.

Here’s a lesson for you all. If you’re planning on moving house on a hot summer’s day, it’s probably a good idea NOT to drink nearly four bottles of bubbly the night before. Yes sure, it’s fun at the time, but you’ll pay for your happiness. What makes yesterday’s hangover even more infuriating is that everyone else there wrote gleefully about not having one.

But my (now ex) flatmate J’s 30th party was good. Hubrettes in attendence included Jess, Jessie, Jimmy and Joel. In fact, that was all the Hubrettes. Karen was also there for a while, but she left pretty early. We mostly sat in the garden and talked. Once everyone had left I wandered down the road to another party by myself, where I danced for ages. Then I wandered back home and danced for ages. The vibes at the two parties were totally different, which was interesting. I felt like I was on a very very mild trip, it was grand. Then when I checked the time it was 4.30am, so I went to bed, despite the noise, and turned off my tv sometime after 5am. I nearly saw the sun rise.

Stupid fucking sun. SO HOT. Moving is horrible. Sebastian being freaked out by being put in the van is horrible. Having to get up before 8am is horrible. Reconciling to the fact that I’m now living with my parents again is pretty horrible, because it makes me feel like I did NOTHING last year, and accomplished nothing. That’s never cool.

Wednesday July 10th, 2002

I’m back! I’m here in Auckland. So why am I still supergrumpy and miserable then? I’m going to go with being pre-bleed, and also being annoyed that i missed people terribly and people are all busy now. Yes I know they all have their own lives and stuff. But meh. And also, Bops left for Wellington yesterday, so I won’t see her for like, two weeks and that sucks cos she’s so fucking great. Plus, she took her discman with her, so I can’t even listen to all the cds I got yesterday at Real Groovy.

All in all, my time in Wellington pretty much sucked more ass than an ass sucking machine. Mum drove me fucking crazy – I’m pretty sure that she has depression, or is at least going through menopause, but she doesn’t acknowledge depression as being anything valid at all; apparently it’s only events that make you sad, not chemical imbalances. But I will stop talking on this subject now. At least I got to catch up with lots of people and buy some kickass but very expensive pants.

Would you like to come over and munch on my rug? It’s kinda smelly, but it’s newly laid. Okay, we can stop with that now, but suffice to say, I actually have new carpet! It’s very exciting. Right now my room is spotless (although admittedly, there’s still a lot of my junk in the lounge) and you did say you’d be curious to see what my room looked like once I’d actually got it sorted, so I think you should come round and see it. I need a poley thingie to mount my photo hanging thing on, but other than that, things are pretty much sorted – once I unpack my suitcase, and get all my posessions out of drawers they don’t belong in and unstack my books from my wardrobe where they are getting all damp. I could go do that now, actually. Meh, that’s boring. I oughta focus my attentions on finding something to cover up the window with. My landlady has taken my curtains to wash them cos they were horrible mouldy, and your guess is as good as mine as to when I’ll get them back.

It’s 18 past midnight now, so I won’t sleep for a couple more hours, but I have an induction course at 9am tomorrow. Stink. Actually, the organisation employs me is very large and varied, and there are quite a few young people working for it, so maybe there will be some hot young things tomorrow morning. I can only hope.

xojo

Sunday, July 7th

My grandmother has this game that she likes to make us play when we go visit her that’s called “Putting stickers on the stuff you want”, so that by the time she moves into a resthome or dies, all of her antiques and ornaments will have already been claimed. I’ve taken a more practical approach and only labeled her fridge and her 17 inch computer monitor. When I told her those were the things I was after, she offered me a thousand dollars os I could buy myself a bigger monitor, which I managed to wrangle out of, and then told me that my fridge was a germ breeding ground and i must buy a new one and send the bill to her. Unfortunately, much as I hate our fridge, I can’t do that either. I felt much better when she was talking about how the Catholic doctor gave her a diaphram after she had Mum to use instead of condoms. It was a weird conversation. She also told me that she stopped getting migraines after she had a hystorectomy, but I don’t think I’ll be trying that one for quite a while yet, thank you very much. I do want to have children, like not just in a “oh that kid on TV is so cute, I want a baby NOW” or a “hey, if i had a kid then I wouldn’t have to worry about my future” kinda way. Having children is very definitely a part of my life plan, even if it may eventually mean using one of Anji’s eggs. But we’ll cross that bridge when I come to it, i guess.

So yeah, that’s what today was spent doing; visiting Oma with Anji. When I got home, I went to bed to avoid talking to Mum and Neil, cos they just reaaaaaaaally bug me. I HATE being in Wellington, this town is making me fucking miserable this time around. It just seems like there’s ghosts everywhere, and I dunno, it’s sucking lots. On Friday night, KateB and I had a really nice dinner at Saffron with two bottles of wine, and then we went and had cocktails at Jet Lounge (downstairs of course, although they weren’t admittign the general public). Double Fudge Martinis from there are my new favourite Mmmmmmm. But it’s such a fucking long expensive cab ride home that I was forced to call my paretns aroudn 10.30pm to get them to pick us up – that saved $25 taxi, plus however much more I would have spent on drink. I was absolutely trollied at that stage, and I tell you, there is nothing worse than being drunk in your parents’ house waiting desperately for them to fuck off to bed so you can raid their liquor cabinet – unless it’s waking up with a hangover the next day and them asking you all sorts of stupid questions. So Saturday was spent running away to lunch with Anji and Karen and hten watching videos with Anji.

Mlaaaaaaargh. At least I’m going fora long leisurely day’o shopping by myself tomorrow. I need some cool pants, and hopefully maybe a skirt, and a top. And i will gaze wistfully at the makeup in Napolean and try not to give into temptation. I’m also gonna get some new innersoles for my Birkis and have lunch with Karen. Kickass. In three more sleeps, I get to go home to Auckland YAY. Right now I’m reading ‘The Vinter’s Luck’ and I don’t really like it. Sodomising an angel just doesn’t sit right with me. Plus, yeah, I don’t like the characters, adn I don’t believe that the basic premise behind the whole thing is believeable, and the writing style seems a little off. So HA! Take that all you NZ literary snobs. Also, did I mention how I’d given up on reading ‘Posession’ cos it bored me stupid? I saw a promo for the movie of it – not suprisingly, the characters in it have miraculously become young and goodlooking. It makes em happy though, cos horrible Gwenyth is in it, so HOPEFULLY, I got it wrogn when I thought that she was going to be in “The Passion” and hopefully no one is making that into a movie, cos if they try, I will just fucking cry and cry. Posession, Passion – they’re pretty similar, right? Not that I’ve felt either for a little while. Well, passion, yes. Possession, not for years, and I think maybe I really really miss it.