Hubris.co.nz

So Cheney is briefing Dubya on the events of the day, and of course Dubya isn’t paying much attention because he’d rather be playing with his toy cars, but when Cheney says “…oh and three Brazilian soldiers were killed today in Iraq,” George looks up and his eyes seem terrified. “Dick,” he says, “how many is a Brazilian?”

Aha ha ha ha ha. Yes, that’s right, I created a whole Country Club theme just so that I could tell you that very lame joke.

But before there was Brazil there was driving out to the airport in the crazy wind to pick up KateH on Friday night, and then cooking her rare sirloin steak sandwiches in fresh french bread with tamarillo chutney and caramalised onions, and then being picked up by our (and everyone’s!) chauffer for the night, the everylovely Miss Lisa who took us to San Fran to see Sam Flynn Scott play with Lawrence Arabia. They sounded good, but I was tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiired and coming down with a nasty sore throat and cough. Katie meanwhile had enough energy to get up and sing on stage.

The next morning she and I went and had brunch at Elements before picking up more party supplies, and she vacuumed while I made Brazilian rice and finished off the feijoada. Then we jumped on my bed (Smoo declined our invitation to join us – wtf?) to listen to the Wellingtonista on Public Address Radio, which you can download here and I giggled at the fact that I got bleeped once but I mostly sounded fairly articulate. The mp3′s not online yet, but I’ll post a link as soon as it’s up. I think that we sounded like pretty smart, on-to-it people, and that’s good, because that’s who we are. And I sounded less nasally and cackly than I expected to.

After that it was nap time before finishing off preparations and heading off to pick up Lisa and Jimmy. I was planning on dressing up all fancy in my hott green dress, and fishnet stockings, and my 4.5 inch wedges, but by the time I’d found my suspenders I’d lost my stockings, and given how low cut the dress is, I thought it was also a bit short (boobs or legs, not both, after all. Not that I’d normally go for legs, until I get to the bit where I write about my day today) so I wore jeans underneath, and didn’t risk breaking my ankle on my shoes. One day I’ll find an occasion to actually wear them. Honest. Maybe when I act out a Tori Amos lyric with someone sometime – “he liked my shoes / I kept them on”. Speaking of Tori Amos, I discovered that someone most unexpected is really in to her music, but I will keep his secret. I was very very surprised though. Anyways.

Brazil turned out to be really good. Caipirinhias are a fantastic drink, especially mixed with copious quantities of cerveza. Rice’n beans is tasty, and Jimmy had made some fantastic sweets that went along with his fact that Nestle stole all the cocoa in Brazil in the 1940s and imported mass amounts of condensed milk instead. Who knew that Nestle could be so tasty and so evil at the same time (well, me, since I’m currently writign a piece on Fair Trade – and calling it Free Trade 70% of the time. Whoops)? I had bought planes, trains & automobile lollies to illustrate my facts about Brazil’s capital Brasilia having been laid out in the shape of an aeroplane and built from scratch in 1960, and also the fact that someone else snaffled, that 40% of Brazilian cars run on ethanol made from corn. I also found tasty ranch-flavoured corn kernels in the scoopermarket bins that went with the theme very well. We didn’t get around to eating fried bananas, but I did scoop out a pineapple that Karen had brought along and serve communal pina coladas in it. In fact, as the night wore on – and oh lordy, did it wear on – many, many more cocktails were served up in that same pineapple and delivered to the boys who were outside playing “soccer” and to the girls sitting civilly on the couches using many many words starting with ‘C’ for some reason. I tried to pressure people into joining the Wellingtonista Bowling League, and since everyone except Barbara, Jack and Nicole were Country Club veterans, there were many facts to be shared. Blair showed up with his iPod so we could listen to CSS and Sepultura instead of our very inauthentic attempts at Brazillian music (One Million Dollars), but no sambaing was done.

Instead the night wound down around 4am with some highly amusing and rather disturbing antics that involved a lot of mocking, bluff-calling and toe-sucking. When are people going to learn that I will always call their bluff? And when I laugh at changes in morality, I am taking the piss out of myself, as I watch myself acting out in jest parts of actions that I’d used in previous lifetimes but then in a serious capacity. This is what happened in that bathroom. This is what happened after the Placebo concert. This is what happened when you so conveniently happened to leave your laptop at my apartment and came back to pick it up at 3am. This is what happened when the boy I was hooking up with at the wedding wouldn’t come home with me so I decided to substitute you instead. And it makes me laugh, and I will always, always go for the cheap laugh.

Sunday was very slow. I went for coffees and the paper and sat and read it on the front steps in the sun while the house was cleaned up behind me, hurrah! Brad came over and did the dishes on Monday as well, so it was like, easiest party evah! We watched a million episodes of The Simpsons off the hard drive and it made me remember how horrible the time around New Year’s was for me. Shirley came down visiting from Palmy in the evening, and we all went and had dinner at Cambodinia in Kilbernie (it’s Cambodian, in case you couldn’t tell), because I wanted something more interesting than the very bland Nahkon Thai in Hataitai. Then we played DVD Cluedo and I went and finished reading the Anthony McCarthen book that I think is called The Death of a Superhero but I’m not entirely sure. If only there was some system of tubes that I could type into that could deliverme the answer…

On Monday I was still coughing up my lungs – assuming that my lungs were dry like wheatbix, so I didn’t go to work. Instead I lay on the couch and napped on and off and moaned with sickness. Brad came home and cooked us dinner and I thought about breaking Katie’s legs so she couldn’t leave but instead I took her to the airport. Today to work I wore my new green dress from Torrid with my new black opaque tights and boots. The dress is, like all my torrid dresses, too short to wear over bare legs (but not bear legs), but I thought it would be fine with the tights since there was no chance of my vajayjay showing. I was super paranoid about the dress coming up, and the tights rolling down – although being footless helped them keep their crotch in the right place – but I like the way it made it look like I had legs a million years long as I strode purposefully down Lambton Quay to meet Jessie for lunch at Kapai. We walked down to the waterfront and sat and shot the shit, and watched the Water Whirler whirl. Good times. Tomorrow I have the day off, hurrah!

Name the body part.

Ouch.

I think in the future, before I go out with Kate Benton and her friends again, I will write myself a cohesive list of why Limp Biozkit are so bad, because I imagine I’ll have the same arguement with Mike again, and I’d like to be able to express myself a little better than just “they suck”. To think he said Placebo suck. People these days.

Apparently the boy in the cab last night that I shared was Le-at’s brother. I guess it makes a lot more sense now that they didn’t appear to be very intimate – I thought they were shacking up together but wondered why they were so distant with each other. And if they are brother and sister, that explains that they both have such strange names. Well, I guess the names aren’t strange if you speak Hebrew.

I’m excited that “Lydia” is now on ZM’s playlist, because if there’s any NZ band that deserves fame and money other than Shihad, it’s Fur Patrol.

Clay came into my room this morning to steal the Internet Cable (okay, wishful thinking – I mean the phone extension cord) so I was like “Clay, can you please open my window?” and he did, and I asked him for water as well, which he brought me. What a nice boy. I was like “Look! I have a fur cuff! and he was like “where’d you get that?” but I didn’t know. I remembered putting on the red feather band, but where I got the grey fur like Olivia’s pillows from, I have no idea.

Macdonalds is a poor man’s version of Wendys when it comes to hangover treatment.

We;re in some bar douwn int he viaduct and there’s me making oi5rgasm noises not that I’d really know what ythey were because Briamn Molko is on the buig screen they were playing KJuice tv and oh my god how much do my panties melt at the site of him? Change your taste in men.

Boy I met last nightwas very very hot and then he said those goddam magic words “back when I was depressed” and I was like noooo I want so meone different. But hge aws still sexy, I imagine I will go stalk marbecks now. Thast qwas at dinner last night some thai place the Green Elephant w e went there for our big night out i remembre. But today is today and not then becuase yeah then was all differenyt and my toenail wasn’t broken then, and goddam I miss being in love but hey yeah ajnyways, stuff is fine this way I think and was I too obvious? I think not.

Ohb my god bbay it’s 3am i must be lonely oh fuck off maqtchbox 20, I am so un eloquent really but you are stil l reading me anyways. Clayton’s 212st was tonight,. I had soooo much fin. fuin. fun. IO was all grumpy and shit before hand. Ckay took my car. XClay took my stereo. I got basil garlic aioli all over my thai silk skiryt opn the way in and setting up. But I k nkiocked back a qwhole shitload of red whine. I HATE cklay’s relies. What a pack of bossy big dorks. wER HAD everythingm all set up and shit at the movie theatre he’d hired and they came and moved it all around. No wonder he’s so fucking pussywhipped, it’s not my fault that I boss him around.

there was a disco ball and that was fun. I slaved all day making mushroom pies and quiches. No hesitation no delay you come omn just like special k. Just like I swallowed half my stash. Lots to drink. Stuff was cool. I hadn’t seen maree in so long. Or shirley neither. Kate Benton told me I was having a good tit day. Clayton agreed. It’s so this tshirt. I love my stativc shirt,. I like my trits too. Tits, not trits. Oh god, I’m hideous, I should just og to bed but like, I’m niot sleepy. so ui will ramble, and you will read it. Suckers. you’re all pussy whipped too. Okay and Kate came into my room this morning ior was it yesterady, and said I smelt all nice like sleep. What’s up witht that? Where the fuck am I? this is SUCH a bad narrative.

Okay yueah, so I was all grumpyu this afternoon, especially when kate rang me at 6pm wanting rescuingb and I had to hgo pick her up even whenb we were supposed to be leaving at 6.15. And then in the process of getting to the theatre, the garlic basil dip got all over my skirt and oh my god was I giving everyone evil looks over that fuck I’m cold.

Talk about guilty conscience, although technically I didn’t do anything wrong. IUnless you count pyutting a shaker in my bag, but I don’t count that. UIt was from thej viaduct after all. At the back of the theaterette were a row of couches, and clay reserved those for us flatties and our signigicicant others (ie Morrison and Kara). I was sharing a couch with kate and a bottle of red whine. When I was in the bathroom, maree was talking tol me althouhgj U dunno how she knew it was me, so she came up and sat with us. But then I went and was throwing aup and I think she disappearefd. Human Traffic was the movie – it looked amusing except the chick looked like Tamsin gfrom Shortkland Street whicjh was just disturbing.

And then somehow Iwas at deschlers how did that happen? I don’t remember, butthere was live drum and base and simon w as dancing and ti was very amusing and stuff an do h my god was I really oh dear I worry me sometimes, and I talked to clayt’s frienmd Adrian who’s noce buit shy and also clay’s friemnd lucy who is a drunken slapper and his “friends’ romy and emily were there – nice look black bra dna white singlet fucking drunken sluts and they even called themselves that.

descblers became some walk downtownh after some big housekey scandel and i guess kate b let justin in after all unless he cli,mbed in our window whicjh would be easyt . some place downtown, was it providence? some name like that. $20 shakers, clay stole 4 shot glasses, I goty the shaker unbeknown to either one of us where hase si gone?: kate m dreove yus home. Providence had juice pla7ying on the big screen, but a different soundtrack. And yeah, we came home, and I was being tacky. Kate M was like “you’re on fire, we could ask you anything now and you’d amswer right? ” but the thing is I would anyways. Brad’s on lunch tomorrow, I hope it’s good.

I feel like a skanky slapper right now Only I am so muchb etter dressed. And my hair is better. As the flat would tease me, my hair is choice. a dn my nipples are amazing. etc etc. QWhy is it htat I let myslef be hassled so mch? I qwill keep my mouth shut in the fututre. Unless of course, I am having littl e black babies. That’s the rule kate m set for me.

Tuesday August 29th, 2000

I’m too lazy to plug in my scanner, but I did wanna show you my marvelous pen that I got today. But then again, I’m too lazy to find it too, but do believe me, it is cool. I went to some Macromedia conference thing today. Well, I’m not entirely sure what it was. Conference, seminar, infomercial, or something. You can go here and it might tell you what it was. They gave us the pens. I was hoping for a tshirt that said “FLASH!” across it, but I didn’t even get a coffee mug.

My morning started a bit badly, as things do when it’s not even 7 o’clock and you’re up, and was threatening to get worse when Kate told me she wasn’t going in straight away having fallen asleep while working on her seminar, so I thought I had to run to catch a bus. But then it was sunny, so I mellowed out. I’d arranged to meet Andrea and Karen at some place called the Bakehouse Cafe at 8am. The cafe was really nice, although the name was funny for me since I used to work in a place called The Bakehouse Gallery. Anyways, Nick and Jeremy and Helen and Charlotte were there too, so that was cool, we went off enmass. I’m not entirely sure what I was expecting from it, or what kind of crowds I was expecting to be there. We were trying to spot the biggest nerd, but we gave up because there was this guy with the most amazing mullet ever, and he just took all our titles. I was dozing off in the first part of the presentations, and so my loving friends kept hitting me. Meanies.

But then they gave us morning tea! We’re so going to start hanging out at the Aotea Centre more often to see what we can gatecrash. I was more intrigued by later presentations. Dare I say I’m even feeling a tad more inspired now? Well, it was fun learning about new features in Dreamweaver. The guy doing the presentation was fantastic, a real Tony Robins. When he gesticulated with his feet together, he looked like a Backstreet Boy. He made fun of programmers, and did his own sound effects (whooshes and clicks mostly) for every exciting thing he did. He kept tossing out Flash Balls to the audience, especially to girls he thought were cute. I was sitting at the back, so I guess he didn’t see me. Flash balls light up when you bounce them. I don’t think they do anything on the Internet. He talked about “sticky websites”. And magnetic ones too, but that doesn’t sound as funny. Some guy from Apple did a slide show too. What the HELL is a gigaflop? I mean, I guess it’s some big measurement of speed processing or something, but that word is just wrong wrong wrong. They didn’t give us lunch, but they did give us afternoon tea. And purple and black jellybeans. And cds of stuff – skite demos I imagine. They gave away software in a draw too, but I didn’t win. Still, it was fun. But I don’t think I will be purchasing any Macromedia software anytime soon. I tried to convince someone to go halves with me on the $1000 ultradev, because you got two free macromedia coffee mugs with it, but apparently my friends don’t keep that kinda spare change in their pockets.

During the day, I got a text message from a number I didn’t recognize going “so quoted in the herald now huh” and I was like “what the fuck?” so I texted that person back (except I got the # wrong) going “um, say what? who are you?”. When I got home, I picked up the Herald, and discovered that actually, it was true. You can read it here. It’s really nothing much, but hey. Despite the fact that they were quoting my journal, they didn’t bother putting my URL in. What bad journalism!

After the thingie was over at 5pm, I went to Global Sandwich and hung out with (Kate) Morrison for about half an hour, cos she said Brad was on his way down. So I took the bus home with Brad eventually, babbling about the Tony Robbins guy. I was soooooo tired when I got home, I just sat in the lounge not saying anything. But then we had to go supermarket shopping. Brad’s car is still at the garage, and Kate decided she was oging out swimming, which meant I was driving. Or rather, I would have been, if Clayton had turned off my headlights last time he drove my car. Mmm. So I called the AA, and the guy came and jump started me about five minutes later (we live just up the road from an AA base, luckily. Then I drove out of our street, and up the road a fraction, when my car stalled stopping at the lights. Now, that’s not an unusual occurance, because it often stalls at night when I’ve just started and it’s cold. However, it wouldn’t start again, it was totally dead. Luckily I could roll it down the hill in reverse and off to the side of the road. Then of course, my cellphone wouldn’t work, and brad and clay didn’t have theirs on them, so I walked home to call the AA man again. We got a different guy, and this one informed me that there was something wrong with my battery charger or something, and that it’ll probably cost up to $400 to fix. This a minute after I’d been mocking brad needing $500 worth or repairs to his car, going “hey, that’d buy a third of mine”. (Karma!). So that AA man charged me up completely for like ten minutes, but just to be on the safe side, I decided we’d go for a bit of a spin on the motorway before doing the shopping. Brad was like “Let’s go to Hamilton” and I said okay. We were just about at Manuwera when he was like “you know I was joking don’t you?” and I was like “don’t you know I always call everyone’s bluffs, Bradley?” But I didn’t have enough petrol, so we turned around and went to Big Fresh in Mount Wellington.

Goddam what a skanky hole it was! I mean, Big Fresh in general is skanky, but this one was all run down and stuff as well – although I guess it does get props for being 24 hours. But I just felt so….. lower class shopping there. I love our Foodtown Greenlane, I really do. However, we DID manage to buy an 18 pack of toilet paper at Big Fresh. This means, apparently, that we can do a whole lot of shitting. Or play that game where you stick toilet paper up your arse and light it (I’m so glad Kate spent a year in Dunedin!). Or we could tp someone’s house. The possibilities are endless.

I should stop listening to Placebo because it makes me want to take drugs that I haven’t taken before.

Wednesday 24; February, 1999

“Woman, you’ve got too many brambles, hiding under these bushes” – ‘Cooling’ – Tori Amos

I felt so nauseous on the bus on the way into town all morning today, not in a hungover way (cos god knows I was awake long enough to sober up). I was glad that Clayton had the varsity orientation magazine which he leant to me so that I didn’t have to make conversation, because I was so not in the mood to talk.

I was late for my TV Production tutorial cos I spent a while hovering in the bathroom wanting to be back in bed for the rest of my life, so I had to sit at the front of a class that was half full of strangers. It was okay though, cos Shirley came in late too a minute later, so she sat up the front with me. We were watching some Nazi Propaganda film and the site of a screen thick with their banners just made me feel ill all over again. It’s funny because the swastika was like originally a Buddhist symbol of life or something like that, but now it’s such a symbol of hate.

Once that class was over, Shirley and I went down to the Midcity, but the movie we wanted to see wasn’t on there, so we decided to go find a paper to see when and where it was. We both also had to make Bank Missions, which I don’t really wanna write about now. Suffice to say, our rent is a week overdue, because of problems clearing money and bank shit. I was shaking once I came out of the phonebooth and telebanking, teetering on the edge of a total nervous breakdown on the main intersection on Queen Street. I’ve started this fun new thing where instead of crying properly, I just start breathing shorter and shorter until I get all lightheaded and just about faint. It’s especially funky when I’m drunk and spinning anyways. Not. So yeah, Shirley saw me and she was like “it’s okay, we’ll check back later – we’ll go take the link now and go to Newmarket”. So we did that, after finding out ‘Elizabeth’ was on at 10.50am – perfect time.

I got completly and utterly nauseous again in the opening scenes of the movie, cos the camera was at a reaaaaaally high angle, and swirled around and stuff – plus it’s never very nice watching people being burned alive. But after that, I got really settled into the movie. It was amazing. Cate Blanchet is one of the most stunning looking women I’ve seen in a long time, and she was astonishingly good in her role. Joseph Fiennes was sex on two legs – or he would have been if it wasn’t for the puffy shorts. Even Eric Cantona was in the movie – playing a French Ambassdor. As a humouress little side note, I was playing World Cup ’98 on Si’s puter the other day, being Holland (of course). I absolutely sucked at it, and Brazil so would have kept scoring on me except for the fact that the computer ran my goal keeper and kept saving my ass. That is until I somehow managed to hit enough keys so that I took over him, and accidentally made him turn around and throw the ball into my own goal. I rebooted the computer before I could hear the crowd jeer.

Okay, back to the movie. I was so inspired by her strength and stuff – as you can probably tell by the quote from the title of this page “I am not your Elizabeth. I am no man’s Elizabeth”. It was so sad and so lonely for huge big lots of it. I almost cried when she cut off her hair, and had to put up my hands to make sure mine was still there. I know that the movie didn’t make any mention of all the nasty shit she did, like burning Catholics and stuff, and apparently there was no way she could ever have had an affair but hey……….. it was dramatic license.

Shirley and I were going to take a tiki tour on the link bus back to town, only it went pretty much the way I thought it would go, instead of the way SHE thought it would go, which was through Ponsonby. So yeah, we sat at the back and giggled a bit. Getting off the bus, I nearly fell over in grand tremendous style and only saved myself by sliding around the pole like some kind of cheap tacky dancer only without the silicone and wearing a lot more and laughing louder.

Then we had to go to a Radio Production tutorial. Dee was really sad cos she got cut off from most of us Dsters when the tut got split in half, but that’s her own fault for not sitting by me (Karma). Our tutor assigned us all a talkback program to listen to – I got Kerre Woodham, 8pm-12am on Newstalk ZB, 89.4FM. I was given that one cos I told the tutor I didn’t sleep at night – she looked at me like I was a vampire or something. I listened to it for a while tonight while playing Cool Boarders 2 (god Si needs some new psx games – I go to sleep at night with snowy trails flashing before my eyes). It sucked. Talkback sucks. And I have to write a five thousand word essay on it.

What else? Hmmmmm. I met up with Simon after class, and rang telebanking but the money hadn’t cleared yet (STILL) so I couldn’t do that – fuck I PR’d the landlord when he rang last night. So we took the bus home, and I caught Si up to date on all my latest crisises. Poor wee lad. At home, both Clayton and Leyton were around, but luckily weren’t playing The Rolling Stones again like they were yesterday when I wanted to play my new Placebo album. But Simon had bought some new hideous NZ hardcore album or something, which was annoying me, as was the other boys talking about supermarket shopping and dinner plans and stuff, so I snuck off to bed, giving Si the power of attorney to make any descisions for me. I was asleep by halfway through the third track. Brian Molko’s heartbreaking voice just has such a lulling effect – sometimes.

Si made us instant pasta for dinner in the evening, which we ate in front of Shortland Street (did I mention how thrilled I am that Mike’s back?) and Friends. Doing the dishes, he made the mistake of sassing me – I had to mop the floor up after throwing so much foam at him. I’ve already mentioned the psx/talkback thing, so that’s about it.

I guess I should maybe say something about yesterday’s entry, but I don’t know what. And I don’t expect others to know what to say either – it’s okay, I understand. And thanks for the support – it means the world. Oh yeah, Isobel’s page is here. And my own little tribute to Amy is here. You’ll find similar traces and puzzle pieces scattered throughout and one day youll wonder how it came to be that you just didn’t know.

Friday the 11th of December

I worked at the Bakehouse AGAIN today, and NO ONE, female or otherwise, came on to me. Maybe I’m loosing my charm. But OOOOOH Oooooooh, something exciting DID happen to me – I got quoted in Annette’s journal, and now I feel like a star. Thanks Annette! Not that I know her, other than reading her journal every day. I have like five people’s journals bookmarked. I feel like a voyer sometimes, but it’s so fun, especially when I start interacting with those people a little.

Ummm. That’s really about all. Thanks for reading this anyways! I’m so sure there was other shit I was going to mention, but now I can’t remember. I sent a letter to sothere.com today. I bet it won’t get accepted but oh well.

AAAAAAAAAAAH can’t take the pressure but I have nothing else to say. Umm Helena’s journal entry today is SO nasty, and so I figure if you can’t say anything nice don’t say anything at all, and I’m going to cut this short now.

What to give Joanna for Xmas

cds – or just cd vouchers to make sure you get it right

*The Gathering CD, either Placebo, Portishead Live (enhanced version), “My Body the Hand Grenade” (Hole bsides) etc

makeup – I especially want some rogue pulp loreal lipsticks in any colour

more vouchers from any store

umm stuff. Cool stuff.

Jewellery

stuff from infomercials, especially knives and pots\

spice girls merchandise – but only if it features Geri

Radiohead’s Video compliation thing – Seven Television Commercials -