Hubris.co.nz

Sometime around September last year I started desperately searching the internet for a house we could rent for New Year’s Eve, as the beloved bach in Waiterere had been sold. Astonishingly, I managed to find one – in Raumati. It had six bedrooms, three bathrooms and was across the road from the beach. And we got it! And so, #raumatirumble was born. You can read Laura’s shorter description with more crying here, or read on.

Obviously everyone who’d been at Waiterere had to return. That was me, Kim & Brendan (KRENDAN SMASH!), Jason & Kate (Kason) and Stacey and Mike, who met and became Macey on that fateful occasion. But we’d also folded in Laura Hungry and Tim (Lim) into our social group, like whipped cream into a coulis. Notice a reoccuring theme? Oh yeah, me amongst a whole bunch of couples. So it was time to find myself a summer boyfriend. I thought there was potential, and there had been a really nice first date, but a second never eventuated. Also we found out that the other Laura (Lozza) was going to be around, and we wanted her with us. Yay Summer Boyfriend!

So emails went around about what we needed to take with us, and we decided to each put in $50 for food, and cases of wine were ordered, and ginger and rhubarb syrups brewed, and limoncello soaked and bottled (well, the bits that Bad Tom didn’t accidently add to our already alcoholic lemonade on Xmas Day anyway). And then the weather reports were read and it was rainy mcrainstorms ahead. Boo, you whore. So I packed some socks as well as three pairs of togs, and hit up the Sallies shop in Newtown for four trashy novels (and a stack more saucers for the #plateproject while I was at it).

Finally December 30 rolled around, after a couple of very long days of anticipation. Rachel came over to catsit, and after about a thousand trips, I managed to get my car all loaded up with food, wine, chilly bin, paddling pool, fancy clothes and all. I collected Kim and Lozza in the rain, and we were off, cranking up our themesong (we run this town, after all) and other Rihanna choones along the way, talking about how major Nicki Maraj is, and loading up on vegetables on our way (avocados at 69 cents and strawberries $1.50 a punnet? Oh hell yes!). We got somewhat lost in Raumati but eventually with our three iphones combined, we managed to make our way to the house, and unload.

Kason and KRENDAN had already secured themselves upstairs rooms, so I headed downstairs. Summer Boyfriend and I took separate bedrooms because I snore, but figured we could do it on the ping pong table upstairs so I could show off some new tricks while I was at it (for serious: I was at Family Planning the other week getting a full range of STD checks (my Xmas present to myself: being assured I am clean. Treat yo’self!) and the nurse was like “your vagina muscles are so strong you should learn some ping pong ball tricks!” because I kept popping out the speculum. Why do I always get the interesting health professionals?). I pushed the beds in my room together none the less, because I am not very practiced at sleeping in a single bed and did not want to injure myself. Also downstairs were Macey, and the biggest room of all was saved for Lim. Seriously, that bitch was like, huuuuuuuuuuge. Which came in very handy later…

Too many details, right? When Lim got there, we held a summit and worked out an approximate meal schedule, and dispatched the menfolk off to the supermarket in the root ute (in this scenario, Lozza counted as a man, on account of being my summer boyfriend). Meanwhile, us ladies drank wine and called ourselves the Real Housewives of Raumati. I was wearing a caftan, after all.
Our 3G connection was weak, but our love was strong. I rang up the property owner to question why there was no TV when there had been one in the pictures, and scoffed at him for saying “there are Sky connections if you brought your own decoder” because what good would that be without a screen to watch it on? He rang back a little later and then I rang him from a telecom phone with better coverage, and he promised to send one over the next day. Victory!

To my extreme delight, Laura had brought along a couple of Babysitters Club books, and so we made Tim give us a dramatic reading about the truth about Stacey and her diabetus (captured on Instagram by Jason here). It was raining but the wine and rhubarb ginger gimlets were warming, and it wasn’t actually cold, so I went for a swim with some of the boys. The beach was beautiful even in the grey, and easily accessed by some steps. The hot shower afterwards was good, especially since I didn’t have to wait for anyone else to finish first.

My wrists were sore from all the wanking pre-holiday chopping and cooking and scrubbing so I assumed the position of Team Leader instead of cook, and we got two huge pans of glorious mac’n cheese in the oven. Cooking teams are great! We spent the evening most pleasantly, stuffing our faces, drinking wine and talking shit. Good times.

The next morning I woke up to a good deal of excitement upstairs. Santa had just dropped off a brand new 42 inch plasma screen, and the menfolk were scrambling around to assemble it while others played barista with Lim’s coffee machine. There were fried potatos and toast and eggs for everyone but me, and once the kitchen was cleaned, the boys (and Stacey) went to the rec room to play Settlers of Catan loudly, while the girls made mimosas, watched The Mighty Boosh (we even had our own Milky Joe), and painted our nails with OPI’s Rainbow Connection and other delights. I even have a picture of it, including glittery cakeballs made by Laura.

So important! So shiny!

Cider was drunk and the weather cleared up a little bit, so we got our ocean swim on, my summer boyfriend squealing away. It was cold, but we all had a lovely splish splash, and when we got back to the house, after hot showers and putting PJs on, I busied myself making fried cheese sandwiches for people. Mike’s friend arrived around that time and didn’t bother to introduce himself to the other room of people. In his defense, Mike didn’t introduce us either. So we drank some more cider and did some prep for our fancy dinner. I made bread rolls! The dough rised! And rised! And then it rose again after I balled it up! SUCH AN ACHIEVMENT! Then Laura brandished pipe cleaners at us, so it was time to get our cat ears on. Stacey did mine for me, and I got my fancy duds on:

Turns out my Summer Boyfriend gives great pussy too:

My tweet at the time said we should be on the cover of Cat Fancier magazine, because WE ARE FANCIER THAN CATS. We are major. More catting followed, and we also decided to give the boys cat head dresses. Not all of them were keen on having their toenails painted though.

After arguing backwards and forwards about whether we could fit the outdoor table into the dining space as well, we ended up setting up the ping pong table for dinner, which worked very well for the eleven of us. There was lamb and beef from the bbq, amazing potato gratin, my rolls (and rolls and rolls. Get it? I’m fat), and then because we suddenly realised there were two vegetarians, we also made a carrot salad and asparagus very hastily. And we sat down and ate and ate, and talked about what our resolutions for the year had been, and if we’d kept him. I had resolved not to sleep with any more close friends, workmates or married people. I didn’t sleep with any workmates in 2011, woo! (Or did I?) And I resolved to shoot a gun in 2012. After dinner we broke out the limoncello that I had made for dessert, and started singing songs from Community, which may have been a little disturbing for those who were not familiar with it. Mike’s friend revealed that he voted National, which made everyone uneasy. There was some dancing, and at midnight I put down my glass of Glen Coco Juice, and warned my Summer Boyfriend I was going to dip her and kiss her, which I did. As a good hostess, I thought it would only be fair enough to kiss Mike’s friend too, because everyone should have a good time. And then there was more crazy dancing, some wacky waving arms to ‘Wuthering Heights’ of course, which I hope someone will post the video of. Cigars were smoked on the deck with whiskey, and I felt very manly. More drinking was done, and I showed more hospitality, painting the friend’s toenails and introducing him to the delights of the Arcade Fire and gave him a place to sleep. Because I am a good host, okay?

On New Year’s Day, we got to go to Wendy’s for lunch, huzzah! And then we watched Mean Girls and started drinking again, and the sun came out, and the ocean was a lovely place to swim off a hangover and feel bad in. That evening we watched Point Break as Jason made us pizza after pizza, and once again we resolved to shoot a sequel, starting with Patrick Swayze washing up on Raumati Beach. I think Kate is going to play Gary Busey.We played Articulate with some amazing calls like me “Someone who talks to the dead” and someone else yelling “…. Necrophile!”.

The next day was glooooooooooriously sunny. After fantastic breakfast triple pikelets, there were many card games outside in the shade, much devouring of Rivals by Jilly Cooper which is so fantastically trashy and also happens to be Laura’s favourite book so she constantly receited lines at me about people’s bushes. Very major. More cider was purchased, along with some other treats, and more swimming was done. There was still almost no cellphone coverage, so we heard that people were angry with Libra Tampons for transphobia, but couldn’t watch the ad. So we drank more and bbqed a feast. Later, a commitee was sent downstairs to Lim’s room to build us a blanket fort. Holy fucking crap. I thought last year’s was spectactular, but this was astonishing. Four clothes racks provided central support, and there were mattresses and pillows galore, as well as a chilly bin and a stereo so we could party in there. Here’s a picture taken by my Summer Boyfriend. Naturally the first game inside a blanket for is Marry, Fuck Kill, and as Mean Girls was fresh in our minds, it stirred up some hefty debate. Most everyone would marry Karen, but there was a lot of argument about who was richer – Regina, or Gretchen. Obviously it’s Gretchen, because her dad like, invented toaster strudel. Plus I think Gretchen would work much harder in bed because she wants people to like her, and Regina would just lie back. But if you fucked Regina, there’s a good possibility that Amy Poehler might walk in on you, which would be great. INTENSE DISCUSSION! Someone has a video of it which they might post. Of course, we also played I Have Never too, and I discovered that the past six months of my life result in me getting raaaaaaaaaaaaaather drunk during that game. Then there was some wailing to Adele, and a great big hangover the next day.

Macey had to leave us, but we consoled ourselves with the saddest sight in the world ever – Jason playing paddle tennis by himself on the beach. I had the best swim ever, and then sent the day alternating between sun and shade and wet and dry. Monkey butlers even brought me G&Ts. And I very nearly won at cards after making Tim shift into the paddling pool with me. Yes there was an ‘f’ in that, thanks. And then some kittens came to visit, as snapped by Laura in front of the paddling pool!

I feel like I am failing to capture this magical holiday and have no way to describe all the injokes and the number of times I sang “YOU’RE WELCOME, YOU’RE WELCOME FOR EVERYTHING” like Pierce, and the number of times I told people I loved them as Laura ate golden syrup off her knife or Lozza wrote “I LOVE LAMP” on the beach. There was lots of laughter and also enough quiet time, the house was plenty big enough for us all, and the bad weather over the first couple of days didn’t matter. We ate and drank like kings, and didn’t even spend all that much money on it. On our last night we watched slide shows of the pictures and videos people had taken, looking back already. I was very very sad to leave the next morning, but super happy to come home to Sebastian.

So that was my New Year’s. How was yours?

These are the questions that I answer every year. You can view last year’s here.

1. What did you do in 2010 that you’d never done before?

• Lived by myself in my very own house
• Went to the emergency vet in the middle of the night
• Ran my own business
• Got my first filling
• Worked for a company that got slash-dotted!
• Appeared on television as an expert in a certain field (Wellington mayoral campaigns)
• Slept with a workmate
• Organised a very successful bach trip away with friends.

2. Did you keep your new years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

According to last year’s post, my resolution was:

“My new resolution is to articulate myself better when I don’t like something, rather than just dealing with it. As in “please take your hand off my leg” instead of moving chairs, or “Actually I don’t like Hawaiiian Pizza” instead of just avoiding those slices. Etc.

I was very very dreadful at this. Well, I got better at standing up for myself at work, both in terms of actual work, but also just in my 3 month contract standing up to the dreadful racism, misogyny and general ignorance in the office.  There was a thing at the end of the year though, in which I was unable to say no at the time, but I was able – with the help of good friends – to make it clear in no uncertain terms afterwards that what had happened was not okay, so I’m pretty proud of that.

Oh, I also said that my resolution last year was to try roller skating once. I didn’t. It was too much of a pain to get out to Kilbirnie after work.

As for my resolution this year, it’s pretty simple. I resolve not to sleep with any more workmates, married people or close friends. I think that’s pretty self-explanatory. I also stole Jason‘s resolution to read more books, and there are things I’d like to do, like walk to/from work at least half the time, and take lunch to work at least two times a week, and restrict buying coffee to twice a week at the maximum. But those aren’t such strict resolutions, if you know what I mean. Actually, I have set myself a 11 in ’11 challenge with a whole bunch of stuff I’d like to do.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

I don’t think so. My flickr stream is flooded with pictures of babies, but I’m pretty certain they were all circa 2009. Smack me if I’m wrong.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

No. But someone that people I care about cared about did, and that was a bit weird, especially when Facebook kept suggesting that I should friend her. Too late.

5. What countries did you visit?

When I found out that I got my current job, Karen and I planned a trip to Tonga, but then the price went up by $800, so we went to Samoa again instead.

6. What would you like to have in 2011 that you lacked in 2010?

I’ll say it again – a relationship with someone who shouts it from the rooftops that they are in love with me.

7. What date from 2010 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

June 29 – I moved out of Balmoral Terrace in Newtown where I’d lived for the past two and a half years. September 20, I started my new job. October 9, I got possession of my very own flat.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Getting a job that I both love and am very good at. I really like the people that I work with, and most of the time I feel like I have a lot to contribute.

It’s also really important to me that I am close again with people who have played major roles in my life before. Some of those friendships are precarious and teeter a little, but I will continue to work at them.

9. What was your biggest failure?

Given that I’m making the most money I ever have, my finances should not be in such dire straits. Also, that whole going on Yaz to sort out my PMS and then it making me worse than ever was a pretty big failure on the part of my reproductive system.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

The Yaz made me sick. Also, Sebby got beaten up. And oh, the Madder Badder Flu that I got after Tom’s party that knocked me on my ass for a couple of weeks was totally dreadful.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

It’s not a single purchase, but the decision to get a flat by myself was fucking brilliant.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?

The wonderful people who supported me as So Content, my amazing manager who hired me and has dealt with me being slightly mental and who is super protective and encouraging, the lovely feminists of the internet who fought the good #mooreandme fight as well as all the other usual battles that exist, my family for their help in moving, and the Lovehawks for providing me with a second home.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

That place I worked for three months. My ex landlady who thought it was okay to make me pay $900 for cleaning. The tenancy tribunal who agreed with her. Assorted rape apologists on the internet. The National Party, as usual. The married man for what he did at the start of the year. The other thing that happened at the end of the year.

14. Where did most of your money go?

Booze, debt servicing, and living by myself.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

Princess Camp because it came when I really needed it. Getting clients for So Content, and building up a reputation for knowing what I was talking about. Getting hired for a proper real job as Jo Hubris, not just a random ‘Joanna McLeod’ on paper. Getting my own flat. Going away for New Year’s with the Lovehawks. Kissing a boy again after pashing so many girls all year.

16. What song will always remind you of 2010?

‘Run this town’ by Jay Z & Rihanna. I came very close to deciding that I needed to move the fuck out of Wellington at the start of the year, when the married man hooked up with another girl (not his wife) and Wellington was too small, and everywhere I went I was reminded of him, and the fucking terrible thing that I did and that he was, and all that. I wanted to run away and hide forever, but then we had Princess Camp and I was reminded that in this case, I’d done nothing wrong, and that actually, Wellington is my fucking city. I fucking run it. And I have my girls, and they have my back, and I ain’t going nowhere. I fucking love my princesses.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:

I am fatter, happier and richer. That’s a good balance, right?

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?

I wish I’d done less shopping, and more saving money. I also wish I’d gone to see my counselor. I can’t believe it’s been over a year since I last talked to her. I tried to make an appointment during my last week of work but she was all full until now, and, as I hoped, I have dealt with it now.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?

I probably should have drunk less, and done less shopping, given the financial suckiness of me right now.

20. How will you be spending Christmas?

I had an International Sandwich Degustation with Karen and Bad Tom, and then BAMJI came over and we watched Buzzcocks.

21. Who did you spend the most time on the phone with?

What is this phone thing of which you speak? I don’t call anyone ever anymore.

22. Did you fall in love in 2010?

No.

23. How many one-night stands?

Two.

24. What was your favorite TV program?

Still Mad Men, Community and Parks & Recreation.

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

Not hate hate, but there certainly have been a fair number of people who’ve made life more difficult than it needed to be.

26. What was the best book you read?

I really liked most of Player One by Douglas Coupland. The ending was a bit meh though, and it was mega depressing.

27. What was your greatest musical discovery?

We have Mac Airports at work so we can share our music collections, and also we have speakers anyone can control, so most of my music has come from my cow-orker Kirsten, who is into The Black Keys, Band of Horses and other such indie bands. I like it a lot.

28. What did you want and get?

A tropical holiday, a great flat by myself and a job I love.

29. What did you want and not get?

To clear my credit card and my financial debt to my parents.

30. What was your favorite film of this year?

Seriously, I’m not entirely sure I went to the movies AT ALL in 2010. Woah!

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

On my birthday I turned 30. I was working at Customs, and they didn’t know it was my birthday. I got my hair cut by a bad haircutter at a place near the building, and then in the evening I think I went to Le Metropolitan with my family.

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

$200 more a week. That would have allowed me to have not felt like such a shut-in while I was on the dole, and now it would allow me to service my credit card debt AND save a little while still having a life. Also, I wish I hadn’t tried Yaz.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2010?

Dressy McDresserson. With lots of pillaging of Sue and Megan’s wardrobes. Lots of black eyeliner, and occasionally some dark lipstick, and lots of lasercut jewellery from SuperVery and Cupcakes and Mace.

34. What kept you sane?

Lexapro, Princess Camp, my manager at work who is a saint despite all his swearing, and all my dear friends,  Kim and Megan especially. <3

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

Joel McHale, Alexander Saarsgard and Jon Hamm. There was a Jezebel poll to pick the sexiest man once, and it was impossible!

36. What political issue stirred you the most?

Let me quote the Feminist Hulk here:

AS SURVIVOR, HULK DISTURBED BY ASSANGE COVERAGE. HULK GLAD WIKILEAKS EXIST. HULK SMASH RAPE SHAME. AT SAME TIME.

37. Who did you miss?

I got to spend lots of time with Kat & Kane and Heather this year, so I’m going to say Kate H who’s over there in Engerland. And Smoo once he moved out.

38. Who was the best new person you met?

Via Kim, who I believe was the best new person last year, I met Kate & Jason & Brendan. They’re pretty sweet eh.  And most of the people in my office are pretty awesome too.

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2010:

Moving in with your parents when you’re 30 is never a good idea, even if you need to save money and you’re only doing it for a couple of months!

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:

“We gon’ run this town tonight. “

Yesterday was pretty much the first summer day that I’ve had all summer holidays, and so of course it was also the day that felt like I didn’t need to go back on pills. Nevertheless I took my half, as I’m easing onto them for the first week and headed off to Newtown for blood tests, and was somewhat surprised that the woman in the clinic didn’t wear gloves while she was doing it. Granted, it does seem all very clean and stuff, and maybe she didn’t want to disturb her manicure, and she’d obviously done it before because I hardly felt the needle go in at all, but still, shouldn’t she have worn gloves? Anyone?

Afterwards I came back home and sanded down one of my small bookshelves and spray painted it golden. Then I went to the beach! Yes, that’s how hot it was. I had my first swim of the summer – if you don’t count the night that I finished up at CWA – and I realised as I was in the cold water at my special secret cove (okay, so there is a concreted path and a handrail down to it, so it’s not actually that secret, but it is the perfect place to swim and yet is often populated only by two other people) that it was a really good way to describe the physical manifestation of the anxiety I’ve been feeling – like you know how when you get in really really cold water your breathing becomes really shallow and your heart rate speeds up? It’s like being like that all the time.Other things going through my head nonstop is the line from The Killers’ newish album which I have been listening to despite my total hatred of Brandon Flowers, and I am much enamoured of ‘When you were young’, so I’m all about the “you sit alone in your heartache / waiting for some beautiful boy to save you”, because I am still 14 and still thinking that Nuno should have been there and busted in and saved me and consequently I will always be expecting someone to save me from myself. And I’ve been so with the trying to figure out exactly where everything went wrong with my life that on New Year’s Eve if I’d had her number I probably would have called up my form one teacher, Ms. Petz, and asked her why she didn’t like me. Because I am teh crazy after all, and all of this stuff keeps me up at night and can’t turn off in my head. Except not so much yesterday, because as I said the sun was shining and that meant that I actually got things done. I did two loads of washing, hung them on the line to dry and actually folded them and put them away afterwards. I changed my sheets. I sanded down a bookshelf and spraypainted it gold, and then put coats of spray-on varnish on it. I installed new shelves in the kitchen. It was fucking amazing how much of a positive effect the sun had.

Today of course, the sun wasn’t out and so I stayed in bed for a couple of hours reading Danielle Steele before I managed to get my shit together to go to the warehouse to buy frames for my art – via the Maranui Surf Cafe, of course. And then I realised that I shouldn’t have taken my half pill on an empty stomach because I got spacey and nauseous, and I spent what felt like hours in the Warehouse, eyes glazed over in the DVD section, fighting impulse buy urges – I want to watch Deadwood but they only had the second series, I probably wouldn’t be that in to 21 Jump Street now that I’m actually old enough to stay up past 8pm and would therefore be able to watch it if it was on TV now, and then I decided that I didn’t need to spend $85 on Beverly Hills 90210 (and got it for $25 US from Amazon instead, natch). I did, however, come across The Breakfast Club by itself for $14, but decided to get the triptich with Weird Science and Sixteen Candles instead. The eighties’ movie fest continues. I felt sick for a couple of hours and weak and kitten-like, so I’ve been hiding under my duvet on the couch since I got home, you know, just for a change. Lisa came over and we watched The Breakfast Club together and made really smutty dirty jokes about the movie and also about a choice selection of NZ musicians. You know, just for a change as well.

I’m starting to feel a bit like Osama Bin Laden here. I mean, apart from the bit where he fancies Whitney Houston and plots to kill people, of course. Just that me sitting here, sending journal entries out into the ether as proof of my continued existence instead of actually talking to people. I am still ducking the phone, and I have emails from some nice people I should reply to, but oh man, that just seems like so much effort. I should talk to people and find out about what’s going on in their lives instead of just thinking about mine. And I will. Soon. It’s going to be sunny tomorrow, right?

I’m kind of very very swamped by girl angst right now. It doesn’t help that I’m due for my period sometime hopefully very soon so that the stomach cramps will go away, or that everyone at work is leaving. But let’s not talk about that. Let’s talk about my lovelife instead.

Okay, so let’s slip back to New Year’s Eve, and I’m all “ooh I hope I get to see the Hot Candadian”, and I do, and he’s drunk and hilarious, and then much time passes that night, and it’s some time after 3am and he’s disappeared and so I leave Bodega with this girl who I’ve known for a while and maybe some other people, but it appears that I’m pretty much only noticing her. We go up to Indigo to see a friend who works there, and decide we should do tequila shots. Shortly after that, it seems like something happens, and she says “I didn’t think you even liked me” to me, and I have to pee, and in the bathroom I find myself blushing and going HOLY SHIT, I’M GOING TO GET SOME and feeling quite strange about it. As it happens, I don’t get some, but I do find myself sitting there going “i just think you’re really choice” or words to that effect (probably those exact words) and we sit out on the balcony for hours and hours and hours and I’m totally starstruck and it came out of nowhere, and we make plans to get married because she liked the trifle I made, and she tells me to go to staff movie night and stuff.

Of course, that’s New Year’s Eve, people drink a lot, but I’d never ever thought of her in that way until then. Normally I can tell when it’s just me crushing (ie: all of the time) but it really felt like there was something there. The thing is of course that she’s a girl. And that makes things so much more complicated. It’s not MY sexuality that I have a problem with, it’s everyone else’s. I don’t have gaydar. And girls that I’ve fancied have generally ended up causing me no end of strife. So how do I tell if she a) ever likes girls and b) likes me?

Well, analyzing it to death sure doesn’t help. I’ve been doing that with the boy from work that I fancied – oh he said this, he said that, he tried to walk me home and I said no, what does that all mean? What it means is that I’m crazy. Boys aren’t that complex. But girls are. Or maybe they’re not. Aaaaaaaargh.

Imagine how I felt when a week later I was sitting at a bar with her and the Hot Canadian. Did her eyes light up a little extra when she saw me? Did mine? We were agreeing on everything so much to the point that the Hot Canadian Boy actually said “You guys are obviously in love, why don’t you get married?” to which I blushed and giggled, and she reminded me that we were already scheduled to get married. And then I left with them and shared a taxi with them – oh my stars, what a porno it would have made if in fact it wasn’t all so chaste (although I do think that the number of times that Hot Canadian kisses me on my forehead is only adding to “I AM ABOUT TO EXPLODE” factorness of me).

Since we’d talked about trifle, and The Dirt, and I actually happened to have some trifle sitting in the fridge, I decided to take some and the book in to her work. The note that I wrote her “ever so casually” on the back of a business card in case she wasn’t there took two drafts, and all it said was her name (I think). I only wrote one draft when I left a note at my workmate’s house over the holidays, as a way of comparing. Or as a way of demonstrating how much my craziness has escalated. She appeared to be really stoked and gave me a big hug. I tried not to blush or put my hands anywhere ungentlemanly. I also mentioned the prom to her and she said that sounded very cool.

The next day my sister wanted to go and see a movie, and I agreed since it was on at a particular theatre. She was working again and she told me that the trifle was really good, gave me my ticket for free, and then brought us out an ashtray when we were sitting outside even though she said she didn’t think I smoked. Who me, obsess about details? Yes me.

And then I didn’t see her for a while. When I got to my friend’s drinks on Monday night, I heard the friend mention that the girl wouldn’t be there til late cos she was working so I was like “right, I won’t be going home early then”. When she did show up I was stuck talking to this incredibly stupid guy. Well, he wasn’t stupid, but he was incredibly full of himself, as if he’d just completed a Tony Robbins course, and oh man, I just wanted to be like “shut the fuck up! I want to talk to the hot girl! How else can I win her over with my winning witty banter?” Eventually when Tony Robbins shut his mouth for a while, I got to ask her how she liked The Dirt and she sat up in glee and said it was great and that all her friends wanted to borrow it. I passed out invitations to the prom and she said it sounded great and hoped she wasn’t working. I got invited to the Hot Canadian’s goodbye party. People talked about going swimming. It was after midnight and I knew that they’d be at the bar for about another hour, and then they’d walk to their house, and then to the beach and oh, it would just take forever, so I decided that I really had to leave because I had work the next day, and also because I am a self-sabotaging git. She was like “oh, are you leaving?” and I interpreted her look as being really sad. Then she said “when are we getting married?” and I confessed to her that I’ve been planning weddings cos my workmate keeps talking about hers. Then our friend offered to civil unionise us, but we agreed we wanted an actual marriage. Then I went home and couldn’t get to sleep because it was too hot.

The hot Canadian’s goodbye party is on the 11th, the day after the prom. I probably won’t get to see him before then, which means I’ll never get to tell him how how I find him, cos I can’t tell him at his goodbye party cos duh, how damn tacky and cliched is that? And I can never tell the girl how hot I think she is, cos I just have no idea. Oh I am confuzzled. And also determined to stop fancying the boy at work. I’ve been upping my cold shoulderingness and my “I am like, totally a lesbian” to him, since he didn’t come over for a beer like the note suggested, and then had the cheek to say that was because he didn’t want to hang out with workmates during the holidays but look, he put my number in his phone because HE IS LYING cos he went out with other workmates for New Year’s Eve.

Ahaha oh what a loser I am.

With all capital letters, because it is so fucking cold I could understand if you missed it, but I must say this now in case i forget it, I say to him “was I really that dumb, did I make all that stuff up?” and he says NO you didn’t make it up at all and I say “WELL WAHT THE FUCK BUDDY, WTF HAPPENED?” and he says he doesn’t know anD I am freaking out because HOLY FUCKING SHIT, DID THAT JUJST HPP_EN? and sone fucker comes in and the subject is changed, but whatevs, buddy, I have thatm abd it feels good. Esoecially since it’s before I startr blubbinh on friend’s arm!

Listed for my benefit and yours. I’ll cross them out as I break them, where applicable.

1. Stop buying everyone drinks.
2. Don’t lose another friend.
3. Accept every invitation within reason.
4. See more sunrises
5. Don’t buy another piece of black clothing.

Drinks at Karen’s with Brad and Shirley, and then we’re off to Atomic at Indigo via the 90s party at Blink’s but when we got there it was all about the sign on the door saying it was canceled, so we stopped to hide booze by the Bakehouse. Brad apparently went back to get another beer later, all class. Once the band had finished (Electrocrack is the new Emperor’s New Clothes), the music was great.

If New Zealand had Craigslist I would post something saying “Dear girl with the NIN tattoos and the dice necklace – you grabbed my pearls and told me you loved them and then when I suggested you punch your friend you told me you loved me and then when it seemed like you almost took my hand in the bathroom, and then did take it later but only to ask for cigarettes, well, I don’t know if you’re that way inclined, or if you are if you’d be that way inclined towards me or not, but I’d just really like to hold hands and kiss you”. Girlcrushes are confusing. Girlie-Giggling Crushes, on the other hand, are fun, even if your friends do tell you to stop giggling just cos you’ve seen the boy you have a crush on, and yell at you to talk to him even though you know he’s not interested, but hey, a hug’s good enough. And then when Heather calls you at 11am, you’re like “arrgh, I love you Heather but I’ve got to go back to sleep to dream about the boy and skipping through fields of daisies”.

Which is actually a lie, because while we’re jumbling this narrative around, I actually dreamt about Kristen, who was working behind the bar and who was (fair enoughly too) very tired. I dreamt I got up at school and yelled at everyone that she was singlehandedly the best person at the school and reeled off a list of her achievements and then cried. Much more wholesome than the other day when I dreamt I decided out of the blue to hire a male prostitute, who was gay but was doing straight for the money. I don’t know why I bothered though, because he blamed me for his inability to stick it in (probably not helped by the fact that I was inexplicitly still wearing my panties – hehe I said panties) but eventually he came across my face and mouth and left. And I paid $130 for that? Wow, even in my dreams I get ripped off.

And on that note before I return to my night story, I might throw down my New Year’s Resolutions:

Stop spending so much money on other people who don’t reciprocate

Stop losing friends

Stop being such a pooper and accept every invitation I’m given – within reason. Rain is not a reason.
The first one? Well, chances are, if you’re in Wellington, I have bought you a drink. In fact, I’ve probably brought you a couple, and statistically speaking, you haven’t bought me shit. I am tired of being overly generous when I am around people who are stingy. I’m not making ridiculously more amounts of money than y’all – I only know one student and I know when he’s on Shorters I’ll be living large off him. Yeah.

So yeah, the rest of the night? Dance dance dance dance. I tried to kiss all my friends on the lips at midnight because hey, it’s 2005 and 2005 is going to be the year of the kiss (and I can decide at the end that by “kiss” I mean “no kiss” if need be), but I don’t think I managed a single one. The one sucky thing about the Non-smoking legislation is that the balcony was absolutely packed whenever I went out to cool down a bit. I saw many people I knew – including one of Katy’s friends who told me he remembered me cos he was shocked to hear the joke I told him come out of my mouth (this is the guy who told me he was waiting for my top to have a wardrobe malfunction). The joke, for the record is Two guys were sitting at a bar and one said to the other “I could have sex with any woman here”. “Oh yeah,” says the other guy, “why’s that?” to which the first guy answers “because I’m a rapist”. Brad had a cute friend who I thought looked really familiar and then I was embarrassed because I realised I thought he looked like the asshole on ‘My Restaurant Rules’ which I have been watching this week. The cute guy had an annoying workmate who grabbed my pearls like half a dozen other people and was really sleazy and tried to make a joke about pearl necklaces. Jessie was there too for a while and I hope she had as much fun as I did. KateH showed up later, fresh from a wedding at Parliment, and there was a boy with her who looked like a sheep farmer. Given that she had mostly been partying with National Party members, it was quite likely that he was actually a sheep farmer – or at least his parents. Bad England. Nevermind. My old workmate Anthea was there too, and she was very very loud. I had no trouble hearing her. In fact, my ears are still ringing today, but I suspect that’s not her fault.

They played ’99 Luftballoons’ and I realised it’s been ten years since I celebrated New Year’s in Roppongi, Beth and I leaving the house semi-legitmately saying we were going to Meiji Shrine with the other (literal) million people. They played large chunks of Indie. They played so much good music that I got so tired dancing I found i was dancing like a little bitch around her handbag, which annoyed me muchly. Speaking of little bitches, at one stage in the toilet queue there was this slapper in a tiny skirt and fuckme boots and so much makeup she was verging on Goth, and she was applying more and more and more, and she could hardly stand, and one girl was trying to tell her that she was beautiful the way she was (an admirable sentiment), seeing as how the girl was in a BAD MOOD and was looking to start a fight – when I suggested maybe she should sit down she was like “MAYBE YOU NEED TO SIT DOWN” and that’s when the tattooed girl touched my hand, ooh la la, anyways. Slapper and her boyfriend were all over each other later on the dance floor. At one stage there were grossly dirtydancing couples in my line of vision every way I turned, which made me want to claw out my own eyes. Puke puke.

Around 4.30am I could hardly stand up anymore, so I taxied home. None of my flatmates were home, except for J’s friend who I’d had a terrible faux-pas with earlier (she went to my high school but I couldn’t place her at first until I was like “oooh you used to be much skinnier” – because she was anorexic. Nice one Jo. I tried to soften it with a “you seem much more relaxed now”. I don’t know how well that worked.) Anyways, I showered and propped my feet up on a pile of pillows and because i still had red bull running through my veins I watched some Buffy/Angel for ages. Then because my ears were ringing and my feet were ache ache acheing I dug out the last of my codeine and wanted to cry when there was only one pill left cos I thought there were two. Nevertheless, pretty much straight away everything went wispysoft and lovely. The top of my head went all tingly, and the pain shifted down a large amount. I didn’t manage to fall asleep though, just snuggle down into a blissful state which Sebby interupted, miaowing to get in and then not letting me cuddle him as much as I wanted to. Sigh. I think maybe I will develop a prescription drug addiction for 2005. Codeine is so nice. If you can get me some, I will dress up in a bear suit for you.

So tell me about your night then.

And now it is January the 6th, and that’s lucky cos it means I get to avoid telling you about the handjob I gave my friend that night. So skipping the rest’o New Years Eve, KateH arrived in Whakatane late on New Years Day, and Brad her and I spent the evening lounging around polishing off the rest’o everyone else’s beer adn reading magazines. It was lovely chill time. And then on the 2nd, when people got up, and I got to sleep by myself, instead’o with three snoring boys, one of whom stopped touching me as soon as he came, (selfish!), but anyways, that’s entirely beside the point. But I was bursting to tell someone, so I was very very very relieved when Tom finally got off his ass and rang me there so I could have a decent gossip. Wait, hang on, that was the night of the 1st. On the 2nd, Brad took us on his famous tour’o The’Tane, including wading on Ohope Beach, adn then the biggest icecreams in the world for $1.50 apiece. KateH and I had amusing conversation like; Me: “he kept looking down my top all night” – Kate: “well, what top were you wearing?” – Me: “yeah, but that’s not the point!”. I also made other rather crude remarks about her family. Sorry Katie, but I know you said bad shit about me that I just can’t remember. Blah blah blah. Later that night, we got three bottles of wine and went out to dinner where the service was TERRIBLE – “oh, we can’t take your order right now cos the kitchen is too busy with that big table” but the company was terrific and I managed to make both Brad and Kate’s jaws drop because I fucking HAD to spurt out my little story, because jesus, almost 48 hours? Do I LOOK like a mute to you? And then we had shakers at the Irish pub until this guy kept staring at Kate so we had to leave, adn went to the other bar in Whakatane, where this carnie approached us and kissed our hands and I was like “Dude, you know it’s not actually sunny any more outside eh” and KateH was like “are you wearing your sunnies on your head to keep back your hair?” cos he was totally going bald, and he started going on and on about were we vets, cos he hated vets, etc etc, and we were like “????”. And then he said to me “hey, nice tits” and I was like, “thanks, I grew them myself” ajnd that gave Kate the chance to go “oh, so you don’t like mine? Well you can just FUCK OFF THEN buddy” and she got rid of him, and she can pretend it’s because we wanted to get rid of him, but really, we all know that I have far nicer breasts than Katie, so ha ha ha. Ha.

The next day, Brad had to go back to work, so eventually, after I ahd to endure hours of “Aladdin and the King of Thieves” on TV waiting for Katie to come back from the radio station, Kate and I drove to Hamilton, via Burger King and Rotorua. She let me stop off to go wading somewhere along the way, but she wouldn’t let me get a float from Macdonalds, so instead I got total Passenger Arm instead, and screamed at roundabouts. And then Mazzy Star made us cokefloats in her new house in Hammy, so that was cool, and we went to Briscoes cos it was airconditioned and I didn’t buy any bed linen, and then I took the bus back up to auckland.

Then on the Saturday, me and Megan and Peter went out. Lumiere has yummy cocktails. Peter sucks at playing High-Low, unless your definition of it is taking 40 drinks to get across the cards. Megan is very amusing. Deschlers was shut at 2.30am and I nearly cried. Sunday was boring, and I put my bed together adn tried to sort out my room. Today I got to work at 10.30am, and (umm fuck, did I have a psuedoname for her?) the girl I work with and I had a rather lengthy lunch and then after work she came here and we demolished a couple of bottles of wine, gossiped and I cooked risotto for her and Peter. And so now that’s like, NOW. And I’m up to date. Kickass me. OH! And hi, have you sent me a package lately? because according to megan, there was an envelope in my letterbox for me one day when she went to work, and when she came home it was gone. Mystery! xojo.

And now it’s the 5th, and it’s SO FUCKING HOT that unpacking my boxes and sorting out my room and the prospect of putting my bed together is far too daunting, so I’m going to continue on with my dentist story instead. Where was I? Oh yes, because it was Xmas holidays, almost all dentists were on holiday, and the ones that weren’t couldn’t fit me in, so I rang up this one and he said I could come in and wait and he’d try to fit me in between patients, and so I said Okay and Mummy very kindly drove me in . The waiting room was jammed full, but after about an hour, they said I could go in. The dentist put sunglasses on me and looked in my mouth, and said that my gums were inflamed because my mouth wasn’t quite big enough for my wisdom teeth, and gave me the option of him prescribing me something to get rid of the infection and sending me away, or of taking the three remaining teeth out now, although that could be a little risky due to the already present infection. I asked him which would make the pain go away quicker, and he said operating now, so I said okay, and he injected me very painfully with painkiller. And then he said “right, well that will last for up to two hours, so go and sit in the waiting room while i see another patient”. Righto. That meant trying to explain to Mum what was going on with a numb mouth, but she finally understood, and said that she’d come back in an hour. Half an hour later, during which time I had sat reading Next magazines and trying not to drool on myself because of course, the lower half of my mouth was numb so I couldn’t manage my saliva properly, they called me in to the office. I tried to spit out the mouthfull of saliva that had accumulated, but I couldn’t control my lips enough to manage that. The dentist started prodding inside my mouth and asking me if it hurt, and I yelped and said yes, but then he touched my bottom lip and asked if I could feel it and I said no, and so he grabbed my top lip really really hard adn made me scream, so he said “I think we’ll judge how the pain relief has worked in proportion to the noises you make” and “since you can’t talk, either it’s working or you went out to the pub while you were waiting” so he poked some more and I declared as loudly as I could that it FUCKING HURT, but he ignored me and got started on ripping out my teeth. I screamed and screamed. He got his nurse to SHUT THE DOOR instead of giving me more pain killer. FUCKER. Oh I was so not impressed. And the noise! And the pain! OWWWWWWWWWWWWW. And then I had to wait another half hour for Mum to show up, bawling my eyes out in the waiting room from the pain and trauma of it all. It was not a fun time at all!  But Mum did tuck me up and read to me that night. I’d cried on Xmas Day (well actually, I cried about half a dozen times on Xmas Day) when she disclosed to me that the night before when I’d asked her to read to me and she said “You’re milkign this whole illness thing a little too much” what she actually meant was “I can’t be bothered walking downstairs and getting a book”. Yes, sure it sounds like I am completely pathetic. That is the point that I am trying to convey – how fucking patheticly sick I was. Thank you.  Anyways, because I was so sick and stuff, and cos I didn’t wanna risk being stopped by the police without a warrant or rego if I drove to The’Tane for New Years, Mummy very kindly changed my plane ticket which was supposed to be on the 29th up to Auckland to one on the 31st to Whakatane. Actually, that’s not strictly true – my flight on the 29th wasn’t exchangeable, so we just threw it away. How extravagent,and there’s children starving in Africa, I know.  Other things that I did in Welly besides be sick? I saw ‘The Two Towers’ at The Embassy, where it was made to be screened, adn it was WONDERFUL. MmmmmmmAragon. I hung out with Anji lots on her birthday, which was cool. I bought Mum and Neil dinner at an Indian restaurant for being so nice to me, even though Mum wouldn’t let me drink because as his final pain giving legacy, the evil dentist prescribed me antibiotics that the chemist warned Mum that I would get very sick on if I consumed alcohol with. EVIL MAN! I’m sure it was all a plan. And what else? That’s about it. I bumped into Si a couple of times on the street, but was too sick to make stick to plans to actually catch up with him properly. He has chrome holes in his ear that I poked my finger through though, so that was fun. I got frosty phone receptions. I slept a lot. I managed to not fight with my mother too much, because being ill meant that we could revert to the traditional Strong Mother/Weak Child roles that make everything so much easier to deal with.  And so then on the 31st, I flew up to Auckland, and got on a tiny little plane that was actually much more comfortable and roomy and flew to Whakatane. Brad picked me up from the airport (which looked like a 1970s house) and we went to the supermomarket for supplies and back to his house, where we were met by Justin and Nellie and Lovely Paul and Jarrod and his friend Stuart and Sarah. There was eating and drinking and talking and stuff, and then once we were all quite drunk, we took a taxi van over the hill to Ohope, where there is no cellphone coverage, and went to a scary carnie toga party where people were drinking beer through funnels and tubes so we left quite quickly adn went to a bach where Sarah’s sister was at. That party was much cooler.

Well well well. So now it’s the 4th of January, according to my computer clock, although my computer has just had 435 infected files wiped off it (even McAfee was infected) and $200 of repairing done, so I’m not entirely sure if I can trust it. Then again, it’s Saturday today, and I start back at work on Monday, which is the 6th, so I guess it must be right.

Right now I am waiting for the AA to come and jumpstart my car. Godbless one month grace periods when you’ve forgotten to pay for your membership. Once I have my car started, and assuming that I don’t have to take it for a long drive on the motorway, I am going to go and try to spend $200 upgrading my wardrobe for my new job, which I start on the 20th of January. I am very excited.

What other things are there that I should mention? Oh yeah, I guess I should talk about the past couple’o weeks. Well. I think when I last wrote I had just moved into my new house? Let me go check. Yes, that’s right. Then I had my work Xmas party, and a couple’o days later I flew down to Wellington. And got sick. So very very sick. I had huge big elephant testicles in my throat and a temperature of 38.5 when Mummy took me to the doctor on Christmas Eve. He took some blood to see if I had glandular fever because my neck was so swollen (“What about if I touch here?” “OWWWWWWWWWWWW”). I cried lots – not at the bloodtaking, but at the being so very fucking sick, and being unable to eat, or hardly drink, and unable to enjoy the company of the Hot German Girls (friends of Ammy’s) who I had found on the street and willingly taken in.

Christmas Day itself was pretty much a blur because I tried to sleep through most of it in order to get better and to also escape family strife. Needless to say, after suffering two hour traffic holdup on the way to Oma’s in Paraparaumu, as a family we pledged that next Christmas will be spent AT HOME and if any relies want to see us they can bloody well come to our house themselves. I got books books books, and stripey socks, and a ticket to the BDO, and money for a new cellphone (yay!) and ummm other stuff, all of which was very cool. But I couldn’t eat Xmas goodies, or drink or even eat chocolate mousse cos the liquor made my inflamed gums burn. OH THE HUMANITY! And while the penicillin made my throat get better, my gums got worse and worse, so finally I went to the dentist on the 27th of December.