Hubris.co.nz

So I’ve been online for like 30 minutes and I still haven’t managed to read a single one of my emails yet. I really must change email accounts.

I bought two heads of brocoli today at 15 cents a head each. This is a good thing. I got them in Northcote, if you’re interested. Today again I was driving around the Shore investigating venues. It’s great. I like Rob in the car division – he gave me a manual drive car today when I told him about the stupid things I did with the automatic last week (I was wondering why the car braked so damn jerky when I was being super gentle until I realised that I was using my left foot on the brake, which as we all know is wrong). There’s a couple’o pajs parked down in amongst the company car pool too – I’ve promised Brad and Clay I’m going to try my hardest to get to take a paj out for the day and I’ll come and pick them up and we’ll drive through Remmers darling. Anyways. So yeah, Northcote/Birkenhead in the morning, then Devenport and Albany in the afternoon.

I had a meeting with the PR Consultant lady I’m working with who’s only in 2 days a week and gave my report and she said I was going well, and that I have full authority to go ahead and book the venues and start drawing up a timetable. Scaaary! I’d much rather someone was checking me every step of the way, but I just don’t have that at work – they leave me up to my own devices. I’m very good at looking busy. I have email at work now, finally my own key and login, but so far I’ve only given my email address to essential contacts (read: Kini and Olivia). I’m trying to be good. I don’t want to fuck this all up. I’m alredy worried about finding a job in February, because I know I have a tendancy not to be very good at seeking things out because basically everything i ever need falls in my lap. Except for my paycheque – grrr! I don’t get paid for a fortnight, and I’m in malls and shopping areas for half the morning – all my xmas shopping could be done by now if I had a cent left in the bank. Ahh well. Tomorrow I’m going to be in a working party conference anyways. Have I mentioned that I get business cards?

Wank wank wank wank wank. I actually am often left without anything to do, so I call Shirley, and since I’m in an open planned office, the people around me would hear
“Hi, it’s Joanna here from *, is that you Shirley? How are you?…….. Right, I’m calling in regards to the communication briefing I received the other day……….. No no, that’s fine……..yes I was in contact yesterday but we decided to not pursue that avenue any further for a while…. yes of course it’s re-occuring….I appreciate that…. absolutely, I’ll just make a note of that…….. yes…. yes….. well would you have some time free for a meeting?…….. how’s today for you?…..alright well we’ll scheduale something for next week then” and then my boss will come back and I’ll want to ask her something so I’ll hang up on Shirley really abruptly going “Great, well thank you very much for your time”. I’m SO a kid in heels and pearls. Nevermind the fact that the rest of the office spends their lives on the phone having really boring conversations with their car insurance and real estate agent places that I can’t help but evesdrop on. Or maybe they’re all speaking in a secret code too. Hmmmmmmm, intriguing!

Because I spent so much time driving today, I came up with a list of memorable car moments that I jotted down because I was bored. You know how I like my lists. Sheesh, anyone would think that I was incapable of stringing together anything more cohesive. And ha! I’m going to alphabetize them by the first letter in the sentence:

• A memory from Primary School; the greatest day of my life ever at that stage was when I got to sit squashed up next to my Crush – Andrew Carnegie – to and from a netball tournament
• Amy and Andee taking me over the harbour bridge by mistake, playing the Spice Girls and bumping the car to cheer me up
• Anji and Greg taking me up to Auckland for Pearl Jam when I was 14, determined to corrupt me and we picked up a dumb hitchhiker who said “Youse guys”
• Countless Welly/Auck drives with Kate B, listening to Cat Stevens, blowing bubbles and taking mad photos left right and centre
• Driving myself to Wellington thinking so hard that later I wrote a 7 page essay on the appropriate course of action to take as a consequence of that thought process
• Driving to Welly with Simon and Matt Sawkill in the backseat, me giggling away to myself like the cat that’s got the cream and is mixing its metaphors like a DJ with religion.
• Going to Waiuku for Kate H’s goodbye party, Justin putting the car in neutral going down a hill and it kept going, freefalling
• Kim speeding along Greenlane West at 3am in the fog when we were on a mad sugar rush and couldn’t see 10 feet ahead of us
• Kini in my rear view mirror, the magical drive into the Coramandel
• MM in the MR2, subwoofer under my seat, lost in Remuera at 4am trying to find food cos we’d been up arguing all night
• Pajero pulling up outside my house in Mount Roskill, Shirley and Dee Cavalry coming to be with me when I found out that Opa died
• Pixie’s friend Sam’s orange pumpkin car, tinnie house in Te Atatu right next to a primary school and I thought we’d be beaten up by protective westie parents
• Roadtripping to Waihi with Shirley, her doing crazy overtaking manouvers and making Trudie scream when I dared her to drive down a bank
• Sung Song association all the way to St. Heliers with Brad in the stereoless Grey Ghost
• the other night in Jeremy’s car, cold from swimming, falling asleep on Clayton’s shoulder

I warned you that i have full stationary cupboard rights – notepads are perfect for lists.

“I think you’re crazy, maybe, I think you’re crazy.”

It was really nasty weather when I woke up this morning, all cold and raining, so it was hard to drag myself out. But eventually I managed and fled straight to the shower. Then the weather decided that a thunderstorm was exactly what we all needed. I disagreed. It freaked me out just a little bit. Every clap of thunder had me running to the other end of the bathtub, out of the water stream. I worried for a moment about being struck by lightning, and then figured that since I wasn’t touching the metal shower curtain rod, I’d be pretty safe. Of course, that’s when I realised that I was standing in a metal tub, in a pool of water, no less. Needless to say, I din’t spend very long in the shower this morning, despite trying to convince myself that it was a porcelain tub, so I was fine.

I went back to my room and thought about how I only had an hour tutorial then a five hour gap, and I looked at the rain pouring and pouring down, and shivered and then I looked at my nice warm bed, and went back to sleep. Ahhhhh bliss! So I woke up about 1.30pm and cruised into tech later for my 4pm Digital Communication II class.

I played solitaire throughout most of the class, with my tutor Peter’s full permission. The class was being taught a few basics of file saving and Internet stuff. I got labeled a geek in the first ten minutes of class by saying that I had my own webpage, but apparently that’s not such a bad thing. I explained to Peter later that I do my pages in Frontpage and don’t really know all that much, I just pretend to. We’re going to learn html, which’ll be good, cos I don’t know it, and also assorted macromedia softwares. Matt Sawkill’s superb enough to be giving me all the programs we’ll be using so I can work at home. So yay for that.

Got home, and started dinner for Clayton. Well, I baked him some potatos so he wouldn’t try feeding us floury wedges, anyways. After dinner and requiste TV, him me and Si went to Foodtown to do our groccery shopping. That’s Foodtown Greenlane if you wanna stalk me. Supermarket shopping was lots of fun, as usual. I was chasing Clayt with the trolley, but got held up behind some dithering ladies. I finally managed to turn the corner into the next aisle, and was about to ram the first person I saw, when I realised they were wearing a grandfather hat, and would, therefore, not be Clayton. Being thankful that I hadn’t knocked over some old man, I carried on speeding down the aisle, before I turned around to realise that Clayt had cunningly fooled me by grabbing a hat from the shelf and disguising himself with it. He’s not just a pair of cargo pants, you know. (I don’t think the phrase “pretty face” would be appropriate in that spot). When we were at the checkout counter, Clayt pointed out Lurker, roving the aisles, so we decided to hurry up and get out of there so we didn’t have to talk to him. I told the checkout ladies he was our other flatmate that we didn’t like, and they laughed. They also commented to each other that I had my ID out without being asked for it while buying wine. They didn’t bother to look at the ID though, so it could have even been real.

This evening while waiting for Clayton to get off the phone so I could get online, I scanned in a whole bunch of photos. You can see them here, assuming that I upload them all. Which I do intend to do, so there you go.

It’s exciting cos I’m like excited about tech again – despite already wagging a class, and probably going to wag one tomorrow. I have to present a seminar on ‘Feminism and the Media’ for Mass Com IIb (I still don’t know if I passed IIa, but hey!). I’m going to do it on how the media can’t cope with representations of strong women unless they are turned into sluts. YAY! It’s always cool when I get to do work on stuff I’m interested in. And YAY for a nice cruisy class like Digi Com with a funny tutor and stuff that I’m good at.

Thursday 25; February, 1999

Got out of bed to the phone ringing, pulling on my dressing gown and was kinda short to Clayton’s friend Antz, practically hanging up before I remembered it would be polite to say “do you want me to take a message?” But he didn’t. So I stripped my bed, and put my light washing in the machine, and then went back for a bit more of a lie-in. When I went to put my dark washing on, I realised that there had been a sponge in the tub, and I’d flooded the laundry. Aces.

Anyways, so finally I managed to leave the house, and I stopped in Newmarket to get out $800 at ANZ and carry it up to ASB to pay the rent. The guy at ASB was really nice and sympathetic, because of course I moaned out the whole story when he asked. Man, it was fun having that much cash in my hands, even temporarily. Then I went to some crap-ass cafe and had a coffee, just to perk up a trifle before my three hour tv workshop.

Because we’re Year 2 this year, we don’t use the m100 cameras anymore, we use some bigass flash pro 2000s or something like that, which are apparently worth $10,000 each. Scary shit man – that’s like waaaaaay too much responsibility to place in my hands! We had to divide up into groups to do stuff, and we had Dan in our group. Dan who’s 23 and has a background of making short films. He was being sooooooooo patronising about all the technical stuff, and I just couldn’t see anything because I wasn’t wearing my contacts (my bottle of cleaning fluid has vanished somewhere into my room), and I was bored. We spent like 45 minutes getting two shots. It’s funny how paranoid people are when they think they’re being filmed getting out money from an ATM. OH! And I have another mini story sort of on that note – this morning when I was in the bank, I sat down at one of the counters that had two chairs at it, next to a counter that had no chairs. This old woman comes up, goes “Excuse me” and took the other chair but moved it over to the other counter. So what am I – chopped liver?

Man it’s pouring hard. I’m glad Si and Leyton were kind enough to bring in my washing. I was kind to them and hung most of my underwear up in my room (there’s this really weird line of nails sticking out of one of the walls that worked a treat). I guess I’m just really paranoid about people handling my underthings. One thing that really bugged me last year was whenever I went to Hamilton, Andee would always paw through my bag or suitcase (depending on whether or not I was enroute to somewhere else or just down for the weekend) looking for cool clothes that she could wear.

Oh yeah but back to my day. So yeah, after the three hour workshop (which was actually two and a bit) I went up to Auckland Uni and wandered around the Quad there for ages, clambering up staircases all over the place, looking for the Craccum office. They hide themselves away pretty well, above the Koreans singing Boyzone in the clubspace. I like their office because its trajic state made me feel so much happier about the mess in my room. Anyways, I went to proofread for them, so I did. And ate their pizza, and rejected their offer of smokes. Like, I haven’t had pot in ages, and I would quite like to have some, just not right after eating. I’d rather just have my own stash so that I could get giggly when I felt like it, instead of getting drunk and moody. Anyways, Craccum was amusing, and I feel special cos I think my name gets published. As ‘Jo McLeod’ actually, which is kinda weird, cos I’ve stopped being Jo reccently because of the lovely Eaton lass. But that’s okay. People won’t know it’s me, so I’ll be like, incognito. No, honestly they don’t have someone from AIT helping out. It was funny how much Nexus, and Hammy in general got mocked.

Then once I’d proofread the whole thing, and fed it back to Matt while he made changes onto the puter, I figured my work there was done, so I walked up to the bus stop. Checking my cellphone, I saw I’d missed a message from Trudie, so I rang her back but she didn’t answer. However, while I was on the bus, Kate rang me, wanting me to go over, but instead she agreed to meet me back at my place. Mmmm. So yeah, I got home and then she came over. We sat in the lounge giggling for ages, squeezing the inflatable aliens for a bit. (Simon and I are starting a blow-up toy collection – all donations gratefully accepted). Kate just got hooked up to the net today, and she said she was surfing with her flatmate Matt, when he read the stuff I wrote about him (“kinda cute, but I’m SO over the stoner thing. Being a little more on-to-it is kind of a bonus”) and complained that he IS on to it. Hahahaha. Guess I won’t be going back to her flat then!

We realised that we were fully obsessed with the aliens, so we started playing that props game from “Whose Line is It Anyway?” with them. “Oh, an extra leg!” and “yes, it’s a real fur, darling”. I guess you kinda sorta had to be there. Actually, no, cos Clayton and Si and Leyton were all there, and were greatly bemused while Kate and I just about died in fits of giggles. I think the boys were more entertained when Kate and I started beating each other up with the Aliens. Man, we gave each other such a fucking huge walloping!!! She wacked me one right across my face, and it hurt like a motherfucker cos it crushed my glasses into my nose. Then we went into the kitchen and screamed at each other, to the great annoyance of the lads who were trying to sleep. Kate had the audacity to call me a slut, and Si joined in, calling me a Hoe. I was like “WELL AT LEAST I’M MAKING MONEY OFF OF IT!!!!!!!!”. That shut them up.

And that’s shut me up too now.

xoxoxoxo

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Name:

Number:

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

Sunday 31; January, 1999

kate’s the only girl I know who has messier handwriting than me

(copyright jan 31st 1999 by Kate Benton)
Clayton moved in early this morning. I’ve never been inside a truck before, but I have now, after stamping up the ramp. It was really kinda bizzare. I felt like I was in a circus or something.

So yeah, Clayton’s moved in, and he’s pretty cool. Definitely more interesting to talk to than Layton although he’s got a voice which is a whole lot like Dylan’s which is kinda weird. The one thing that annoyed me though is that when I was just sitting in my room, lying down and reading, he kept coming in and talking to me. Ohhhhhh the humanity huh?

Kate and her friend Theresa came over around 1pm and we all went to Wendy’s together, and stole lots and lots of packets of sugar because we have none. I’ve previously stocked up on napkins from there too. Wendys rocks for free stuff. One day I might just take in a bottle and fill it up with tomato sauce. They were waiting to get a call back from a guy about a flat that they wanted in Ponsonby. Eventually they rang him, and were really sad that they didn’t get it. So then we decided we should get really really drunk to de-celebrate. The only problem with that idea though, is that it was a Sunday, and liquorshops and supermarkets etc aren’t allowed to sell alcohol on Sundays, because of stupid stupid laws. So that sucked to our asthma alright. We thought we could ring up all our friends and invite them to a “byo and some for us too please” party, but then we remembered that hey! We don’t actually have any friends. Well, actually we do, but none of them were available. So yeah, that sucked. Eventually, they went to go visit Theresa’s momma, promising to return somehow with stuff to drink. (Man, I felt so fourteen again!)

They came back around seven pm, so I rang up and invited Shirley over as well. We ordered pizza from Pizza Hutt, and since I was feeling rich cos Clayton had given me cash for bond and rent, I forked over the money. Half way through our thin crust half meatlovers half vegetarian, Kate decided to ring up and complain about the crust, to get a free pizza. She told them that it tasted like an Arnotts water cracker biscuit, and from her experiance working at Pizza Hutt, that is not what they should taste like. The woman begrudgingly sent over a regular size, instead of a large. Bitch. Hhahahaha we must already be on Pizza Hutt’s blacklist now. Kate and Theresa were going to flash the delivery boy, but then it was like an old man, so they didn’t.

Anyways, we’d finished the one cask of wine Theresa had been able to scab off her old work, so we decided to go to Newmarket. Well – Kate, Theresa and I did anyways. Shirley and Clayton didn’t want to come, but they said they’d clean up, so that’s more worthy. So we went to Newmarket to play pool, not entirely sure where exactly we were heading, until I spotted the PLANET POOL sign. Kate and I played on a team cos we both suck. We won the first game! I was so proud. Sure, Theresa fucked up and got three of our balls in on one shot (how she managed that, I will never know) . Anyways, we got bored of there, so we went to the Carlton instead and had lots of shakers. The shaker containers were so cool that despite the fact that we were sitting right by the bouncer, we slipped one into Theresa’s bag. The bartender there was so hideous, sticking his tongue out everywhere, and shaking his booty. I use that phrase because that’s how cheesy it was.

So yeah, eventually we went home, and sat around watching some really bad movie with Christopher Lambert in it. Theresa decided she wanted pizza, and after calling some guy at Dial A Dinos three times, he decided he’d send some out to us, even though we’re out of the delivery area. I’m starting to get the feeling that Theresa can talk herself into anything. So yeah, once the pizza arrived and I’d paid for it (again, I was the only one with cash) , we realised we weren’t actually all that hungry, especially since it had jalepenos on it. So oh well. Oh yeah, before we ordered pizza, I’d gone online to send an email from Kate, and found myself being forceably removed (Kate pushed me to the ground then sat on me, completly knocking out all my breath and doing some serious damage) so that Theresa could start messaging everyone on my contact list telling them she was me, and that I was in love with them. MMMmmm. So that was vaguely funny only i was in so much pain it wasn’t actually that cool. What was even more damaging however, is when they’d been sitting on the sofa going “UH OH UH OH UH OH” so I picked up Geri and threw her at them as hard as I could. She hit the wall with a smack, and her legs broke off. AAAAAARrrrrrg. She’s a collector’s item now, too! So yeah, if anyone wants to buy me Ginger Spice merchandise, please do so.

Oh yeah, and about the note – that was Kate trying to terrorize my poor flatmate who was probably traumatized enough by the screams and giggles.

Thursday 28; January, 1999

gosh aren’t bus timetables fun?

See that? (<<<) THAT is South Auckland. That is where the buses that I ride end up. However, what you won’t see on that map (even if it wasn’t such bad resolution and around the wrong way) is my street, or my house. I know this, because I spent an awfully long time this afternoon (ie ten minutes) trying to figure out exactly which bus I had to take home. I mean, I remembered the number of the bus I took in, but I wasn’t wearing my glasses, and by the time I got to the map, I was a litttle bit tipsy, so it was all a bit confusing. But then I went to the bathroom, where I do all my best thinking, and figured out that my house was off the map, to the NORTH thank you very much. See, I have a complex now, because I’m the most judgemental person in the world, and I’d hate for people to think I lived in South Auckland. Or West Auckland. Or the North Shore. And too far east, just to round it all off nicely. Honestly I’m not a snob. No, reaallly I’m not.

Okay so anyways, on with the show. The landlord rang me out of bed at 9am, which pissed me off cos I couldn’t get back to sleep afterwards. Amazingly enough, I’d gone straight to sleep the night before – I’d thought I’d lie awake freaking out about every odd noise, but I guess Piha just wore me out.

Anyways, he finally came over and I pointed out the leaks and damp patches and he agreed to change the front locks – YAY. So hopefully that’ll happen soon. Layton also rang and said he’s moving in tomorrow, so I’m home alone again tonight (oh shit, you missed your collective chances, didn’t you?). Anyways, back to my story.

I took a bus into town today. How proud are you? I was pretty proud. I took it ALL the way too – down into the terminal. Fuck the bottom end of Queen Street sucks. The top end’s not all that shit hot either, but at least it’s not so sheepskinandpaua-ry. So yeah, I went to the bank (yay, my cheque finally cleared so I’m as rich as I should be) and cancelled my APs to Access Ezy – a storage unit place with a name after my own heart.

Then I bought a V and Pulp Magazine (the BEST read in town), and went and sat in Aotea Square for an hour, reading my little heart out and listening to the clatter of skateboards. It was nice there – it would have been better without the boppers though. Haven’t they got the whole of the shore to hang out on? Anyways, then I went and used the bathrooms in the Aotea Centre. Nice and clean, air conditioned, no one saying I can’t…. perfect.

Since it was by that time after 4pm, I went up to the London Bar, to meet up with assorted atmos/craccum people. I know people man! Hahahah, I’ll just revell in my moment of snobbery. Gareth, the exhalted editor of Craccum had been drinking 15% beer, and well – he was pretty slumped in his seat. The beer was FOUL too. Errrgh. So I sat back and watched enthralled as they talked about all this businessy stuff. I was so in awe, man. In Wellington, I listened intrigued to hours of hospitality talk. Up here, it’s hours of web design and advertising stuff. I love it. Very impressed with the proffesionalism of some of the people there…. and others were amusing. And two-for-one happy hour’s got to be a bonus.

I explained about the map before, so we won’t go there again. I got on the right bus eventually, after hiking up to Symonds Street. Then I got foodage from Wendys and came home. After Shortland Street (NO MACKENZIE NO!!! LET MINNIE KILL OSCAR!!!!) I rang Karen, to find out she was at Home, so I rang there and hung up so they’d have to call me back and pay for the call. I was still sorta drunk then (fuck I’m a cheap date) and I hadn’t talked to Karen in sooooooooo long that I just babbled my little head off, telling her filthy foul stories that had her in hysterics for ages. So that was cool, until she told me she wanted to hang up because I was just repeating myself. And even my own father didn’t want to talk to me. Shock horror! This is made for tv movie stuff, man. “Hyperactive Girl Cast Out By Family ” I had to spend the rest of the night on the net to make up for it. And now my back hurts cos there is no back to this chair. That’s probably something I should invest in. Or if someone wants to steal me one, that’d be cool too please.

Saturday 16; January, 1999

Shirley went home to Waihi today, leaving me homeless. Simon arranged to stay with Kim. Kim and I don’t get along. I was kinda worried. I hate being homeless. Simon dropped me off at Matt’s house on the shore, so I went into town with Jo and Matt to a Vision meeting.

Now that was weird. Everyone sat around talking about things that I really didn’t understand, like Flash and CSS and I just wondered why the fuck I’m in Vision. My website is shite, and done (quite happily) on Frontpad. I don’t know exactly how dedicated to the vision I am. So yeah, that was bizzare. But I met Matthew of Holloway fame, so that was choice. And Ryan was friendly.

Afterwards we got a ride back to the shore in Gareth’s pimp car. He’s the editor of Craccum, it turns out. Connections, connections, connections. So yeah, I know people who know people, man. Rock on!

Jo was lovely and took great sympathy for me in my plight, so she asked her mommy if I could stay the night with them, which I did. Yay. They were borrowing a friend’s house while they were overseas. Jo and I stayed in the room of a boy who goes to Westlake. We mocked his posters and cds lots. Just wait till you see the photo I took of Jo and the roof of his bedroom. I’m going to put it up and tell everyone it’s her bedroom and her Speed 2 poster. Oh – did that give it away?

I played foozeball with her very bubbly little brother and we watched some really bad movie on TV, then ran away when Striptease came on. I have some standards, after all.

Friday 15; January, 1999

BIG DAY OUT BABY!!!!!!

So yeah, woke up early to make sure all the stuff was packed. I’d shaved my legs the night before, with a blunt razor, so that I could wear a short skirt. Or a dress, a slip, AND a pair of shorts, just cos I’m not used to wearing short skirts and I figured I’d be more comfortable that way. Plus a sports bra – of course. Ohhh I know – I’ll go steal a picture of me from Annette. Gosh I’m stunning!

Yeah. So that’s me. Cropped cos it’s slightly more flattering that way. I’m so vain. Annette’s friends told me they loved my dress. So did some strangers who were standing next to me in the que to get in. We had a big long chat actually. . That was pretty cool. It was $10 from some shop on K’Road and I was SO stoked when I found it. It’s like my favourite thing to wear, along with my styley sunglasses, also seen in that picture. Anyways, back the the plot, huh?

I took along my ‘US MARSHALLS’ coat that I won from United Video, but then decided to leave it at Shirley’s when someone pointed out that if it rains, it rains and I’d get wet either way. Besides the coat was ugly, uncomfortable, and sported great big logos on it. So yeah, it would have been a bad move to have worn it.

We went met up with the Wholesome Tutorial Dsters at Shirley’s house, so that we could drop off all of Simon’s stuff out of his momma’s car, cos she was finally going home to Wellington. She’s lovely, but I got SOOOOOOO tired of being polite and chipper all the time. When we were driving down Queen Street, these louts in the car next to us were saying things like ‘Can I please put my head between your cunt?” (great England there!) and I was reduced to saying “Gee, thanks but no thanks” as opposed to whatever I would have said had there not been an adult in the car. The poor woman was like so oblivous. She didn’t notice any of the drug stuff in the Greenlane house, not even the smell. Anyways, I digress.

Shirley’s cool friend Nicole was there that I’d met on Tuesday night, and her two airforce friends Richard and ummm someone else. They were all drinking already – at 9am in the morning, I might add. In the taxi-van on the way to Ericsson Stadium, I got handed a bottle of Lemonade and Vodka, and who was I to refuse? I felt so fucking 14 again, drinking hard stuff from soft drink bottles. It was so strong it made me feel a trifle ill too, but never the less I knocked it back. Go Go Go Peer Pressure. It made me laugh a lot when the bottle got handed to Not-A-Team-Player-Nigel, who presumed it was water and took a big swig. Childish, I know, but I’m still bitter about what they said to me at my birthday party.

Anyways. Eventually we got to the stadium, and as soon as we pulled up, we had Absolutely Crackers thrown at us. That was cool, cos all I’d had for breakfast was that vodka. Hahhahahaha that’s so tragic, I sound so bad. All the Tutorial Dsters, being the wholesome people that they are, went off to see the Dead Flowers, who I completly hate, so Simon and I went to see 48Sonic, after arranging a meeting place to catch up with Dpeople again, should we feel the need. (No Comment. I like them, I really do, just they’re a bit much to take, all in a group. They make me feel really dirty and evil).

Anyways, so we danced to D&B for a while, which was kinda cool, but then we got bored so we went down to the main stadium to see Garageland – yay. I’ve seen them lots live and they’re cool, and it was choice to see them again since they’re normally in England. Anyways. Si got bored, so we were going to wander off, when he bumped into Mark and Scott. They fully ignored me, which made me laugh lots. I decided not to be as petty as them, so I went off to find the Dsters. BUT on my way up the stairs, I suddenly spotted someone I’d been hoping to see and with a tremendous yell of “JOOOOOOOOOOO” I launched myself at her. YAAAAAAAY.So that was faaaantastic. We watched the end of Garageland, and then decided to go ride on the Ferris Wheel. Passing by Mark, he dissed Jo too. hahahahahaha.

As we got on the ferris wheel, after lining up for ages, I remembered that I’m actually a wee bit afraid of heights, which made it SO cool, like flying into Wellington Airport when you think you’re going to drown, but you don’t mind all that much, because it’s so fucking cool and it really turns me on. Um. We figured that we had to kiss on the top of the ferris wheel, cos it was so romantic and neither of us had better people around. Again, that’s a kiss, and not a snog. Sorry to those who were looking for cheap thrills.

After that, we went up to the Supertop and saw the end of Jebidiah, while waiting for HDU to come on. There were these two old guys with their shirts off standing in front of us. I so wanted to take a razor to the back of one of them, and then when he started yelling out drunken appreciation for HDU, I wanted to take a razor to his wrists. Honestly I’m not reaaaaally a violent person. I just hate people bumping into me or being too close when I’m dancing. HDU were sooooo fantastic. For those of you who’ve never heard of them, which is probably most of you, they play really sonic, feedbacky kinda music. We were right at the front, just melting into the bass. I stuck my arms out and they trembled with the vibrations. I would have given anything to have been able to sit on the speakers. My heartbeat was overcome.

So that was astonishing. Afterwards Jo and I went to sit outside and cool off for a while because we were both dying. The clever girl had a water bottle so we found a place to fill that up. I bought a donut, but I really didn’t feel much like eating it, so I gave half to Jo. We sat in one of the semi-tunnels between the main stadium and the supertop, where it was nice and drafty, and waited for Matt(er)’s cellphone (which she was carrying) to ring. Eventually it did, so she bellowed out our location to Matt and the mysterious Thomas so that they could come and find us. Almost an hour later, they did manage to find us – after another phone call. Honestly, we gave them brilliant directions, so I don’t know what their problem was. Thomas Scovell isn’t a bot after all – apparently. I guess that’s maybe an inside joke, but hey, almost everything else in this journal is too, and you’re still here.

Okay, moving away from that moment of gloating. We stood and nattered for a while, before hiking down to the main stadium to watch Ash. Unfortunatly, the cop-a-jailbait-feelers were on, so Jo and I sat with our backs to the main stage, and the boys went off to do the mannish thing of drinking beer. I could have gone with them, thanks to the loverly Nicole who’d scored me an R20 wristband from a lax security person, but no, I didn’t want to. Instead we lay on the ground, and I was shocked to discover that I kept breaking out and singing along. Eventually I realised that there was no way I could stop myself, so I just sung out loudly, waving my arms around and generally taking the piss. Aaaaaarg the feelers suck. Such such wankers. Oh please can I be a fifteen year old groupie and suck their dicks?

Eventually, the boys came back from their lager, and Ash came on. Jo and I were wetting ourselves at their looooooooverly Irish accents. Mmmmmmmmm. They played “A Life Less Ordinary” which I completely love, and so that just went off fantastically. We danced in an empty area near the back for a while, but then us lasses decided to go in deeper, so we parted from the lads. Gil came up to us, and that was so choice, cos I was completly surprised to see her there. We didn’t chat for long but it was still cool. After hearing all the songs that we knew, we realised it was coming on 5pm, and time to head up to the Boiler Room for a Vision meeting. It started raining when we were up there, and I drank a red eye. Sonic Animation was playing, and the music was very very cool. We danced in the rain and it was terrific. Eventually people came and found us, so I met Annette, Brooke, Kay, and umm aaah I think that’s about it. Oh yeah, I met Annette’s friends, who told me they loved my dress, so I loved them. Yes I’m that easy. So that was pretty choice, AND I got to dance.

So yeah, Sample Gee came on and all these little fifteen year olds came running into the tent. Scaaaaaary shit. I so so hate Sample Gee, so I got impatient, and really wanted to leave. Shihad were up next in the main stadium, so I went down with Jo and her friends to see them. Simon caught up with us then – Mark ignoring me again. Ouch. I’ll make you bleed and you’re bleeding now. (That’s Soulfly, who I didn’t see). But anyways, I was very impressed with Jon Toogood and the boys. I’m so glad I’ve seen them live now. They rocked. ‘Home Again’ is such a great song. “I’m here, you’re there, don’t mean I don’t care – I’m so sorry, I was miles away”.

Si went up to see the Fun Loving Criminals a little before me and Jo. Then I went to the bathroom on the way up, and so therefore got seperated. I arranged to meet her ‘where we’d been before’ in time for Marilyn Manson. The Supertop where the Criminals were playing was so smoky and hazy that I just couldn’t stay in it, especially when i didn’t see anyone I knew. I wandered around outside by myself instead, listening to the Headless Chickens on the really small stage, but I don’t like them so much without Fiona Macdonald, so I just went and sat in the tunnel cos it was nice and cool, and I wanted to save up my strength for my main reason for being there. It was just chance that Jo came back that way – she thought we were going to meet down in the main stadium. Fate is so kind. We went and got seats up in the main stadium next to more of her friends so that we could watch the Manson Show begin.

I was actually pretty disappointed in his set. I thought at least he’d be a good showman, but no! He had to keep going offstage to change his clothing, which just killed the pace of the whole thing, and from as far away as we were, there was nothing to see – even though I did have my contact lenses in (thank god). Jo left to go see Roni Size half way through, so I stayed and made disparaging remarks about Manson to her friend. That was amusing. The people running the big scoreboard were dissing him too, with stuff like “Marilyn – Boy George is looking for you” and “We CARE, Marilyn”. He got pretty cheesed off with it all, I think. Oh well. He didn’t play Tourniquet, the Dope Show OR Beautiful People, which are basically the only songs I know. So how was that fair?

Once I figured he was pretty much at the end of his set, I headed down into the ground, to get well set up for HOLE. YEAAAAH BABY, they’re the band I’ve been dying to see since I was fourteen. Courtney Love is one of my role models and all. I was so excited that I got butterflies in my stomach. I wanted to be in a good place so that I could actually SEE what was going on onstage, so I didn’t push too deeply into the crowd – plus since I was alone, I didn’t want to become a casualty. But then someone came up behind me and was like “move aside, young lady” and I turned around to see my friend Jodie, so that rocked. I went in deeper with her, her friend and the little brother. They were excited too. Hole took a long time to come out, but when they did, it was magic. She sang a few lines from ‘Pretty on the Inside’ solo, (“slut kissed girl, won’t you promise her smack; is she pretty on the inside, is she pretty from the back?”) then they launched into Violet. “When they get what they want, they never want it again” – the crowd went wild, jumping up and down to “GO TAKE EVERYTHING, TAKE EVERYTHING I WANT YOU TO”. A couple of songs into the set, I was completly seperated from Jodie and co, and I didn’t care. Nothing mattered apart from the beautiful woman and her band on the stage, and the songs that got me through my angsty angsty youth. When they played ‘Miss World’ she sang “I am the girl you know, the one who should have died” – an obvious reference to so many people blaming her for Kurt’s death. I almost started crying then. I love that song so much – it’s going to be played (ironically) at my funeral, and it was just so sad cos she was obviously (drunk and) upset. It’s such bullshit people who say that she killed Kurt. I reckon that people just can’t cope with the idea of having a strong female in power, and they have to find some way of tearing her down. I’m not normally a huge feminist, but I left the concert that night wanting to really make a stand. In between songs, and mocking Manson, Courtney told us how women only earn 62 cents to every dollar that men earn, but as a rock band, they were earning a dollar to every 62 cents guy fronted bands were making. She included such classic statements as “We’re the first female-fronted band to headline a festival since Heart” and “I love Eric – I just wish he had a vagina”. Apparently though, he’s got a really big dick, and he turned her down when she offered to fuck him for his birthday. I love Courtney. She’s so funny. And so tragic (not in a traj way, but in a true shakesperean sense of the word) as well. Before ‘Doll Parts’ she explained that she’d written the song for Kurt, when she thought he was leaving her for someone else (Kathleen Hannah perhaps?). Afterwards, she was like “I didn’t want to talk about this, but it’s just so stupid. Why did he have to go and do a thing like that?”. She mocked the audience for cheering so much when she flashed her (very nice) breasts. Well, I’ll admit I cheered too. I thought they were great. Very well formed. Some guy in the audience was stupid enough to call out that she was a slut – instantly everyone was like “fuck up, asshole”. Did he have a death wish or something? I think we were all pretty much under her spell. ‘Reasons to be Beautiful’ and ‘Dying’ formed a beautiful couplet just like on the album, ‘Celebrity Skin’ was greeted like an old friend. I’m sorry, I can’t really keep track of the order she played songs in. ‘Malibu’ was a whole lot better than I expected it to be, as was ‘Awful’. ‘Northern Star’ was heartwrenching. I think she played something from ‘Pretty on the Inside’ cos I remember feeling proud that I knew it and most of the other people wouldn’t but I guess that’s become invalid now cos I can’t for the life of me remember what song it was. They didn’t play much of ‘Live Through This’ which is a bit of a shame, because I do love that album dearly, but I also love ‘Celebrity Skin’ so I guess I’ll get over it. ‘Heaven Tonight’ was a gorgeous blast of pop. Courtney did a whole lot of talking. She had a girl lifted on stage – and of course the girl was crying. At the end, after repeatedly telling all the girls in the audience to “stop sucking your boyfriend’s cock and start bands. Make a dollar to their every 62 cents” she gave away her guitar, making the recipient promise to start a band. They went offstage after ummm I think it was ‘Use Once and Destroy’ and then came back for an encore, demanding that people scream more. Hey, I don’t begrudge them their rockstar moments. Courtney also threatened to stop playing if people didn’t scream more for their drummer – “one of the best in the country AND she has ovaries”. She also played a little song for Melissa, explaining how all the boys want her, but Melissa will never give up her power (she’s a lesbian). They really played overtime, so when Courtney came back for a last encore, the stage people wouldn’t give the rest of the band their guitars. She got mad and yelled at them – YAY, fuck coporate rock and all. So yeah, they came and played a roaring ‘She walks over me’. By that time I’d been pushed up really close to the stage, and I didn’t mind that I nearly died. It was so amazing. I felt so goddam empowered, and also really horny, but maybe that’s just due to the feeling of power I had. Which is a good thing, right? Anyways, the main stadium lights went on, a clear indication that it was finally over, so along with everyone else, I trudged up the stairs out of the stadium.

Everyone was trying to cram themselves into the Boiler Room to see Fat Boy Slim, but a) I don’t like him and b) I was nearly in tears from my religious rebirth, so I went and sat outside the main gate, where I was supposed to meet all the dsters at the end of the day. It was cool while I was sitting by myself, but once Trudie and Shirley came along, I felt really stink. They were sitting there going “oh yay Fat Boy Slim” and I was just turning my snobby little nose up at them, dissing all the stuff that they’d liked. I was so unbelievably lonely, because I wanted to share my Hole experiance with someone and they’d written it off. So I didn’t want to talk, which meant they thought I was sick. I called up Jo on Trudie’s cellphone, because she was who I wanted to see more than anyone else in the world, but she hadn’t been at Hole either so there was no one that could know what I was feeling. It really really sucked.

Anyways,eventually we found the whole group of D people, and set off to find ourselves a taxi van to take us back to Shirley’s. Walking down the road I spotted Matt and Thomas, and Jo with them, so I was really happy and got to get my hug after all (I’m such a little kid). But I couldn’t talk to her for long, cos all of D were motoring ahead. We walked miles before managing to hail a taxi, but that’s okay. I talked to Nigel’s friend from Hamilton all the way home, about the Outback and similarly scary places. Nichole let me sleep in her bed so that she could have cuddles with Richard. Hey, I’m not complaining. Except that I couldn’t sleep for ages because my feet hurt so much. Still, it was worth it all to have seen Hole. Wow. My god. Wow. A rebirthing experiance. I just wish I could have shared it with someone. But still, I shared it with me. And hey – I’m WORTH a dollar to every 62 cents.

Tuesday 12; January, 1999

Jo and I were waiting in the van outside of J’ville Mall for Mum to buy flowers for Oma, listening to @ctive 89fm (which isn’t half as cliched as it appears from that spelling). Because it was so hideously early in the morning, it was still the breakfast show (Felix wakes up djs and laughs at their houses), and they had a ‘classic track flashback’. We were SO estatic to hear ’3am’. I so so so wanna be the KLF. So that set us off in good spirits.

We had to stop off at Oma’s, so that she could give me some ‘travelling money’. I know, I know, I’m a spoiled brat. What am I supposed to do about it? It costs a lot to set up a new flat you know. And stuff.

Simon took ages to cram all his stuff into the cars, and he ended up leaving shit like his stereo with my mommy, so that she could bring it up two days later in the van-mobile. Jo got in the car with Simon’s momma, and I got into his car. We agreed to stop in Taihape for lunch, cos we figured that with his boyracingwannabe driving, we’d end up miles and miles ahead. We didn’t though, and had only 20 minutes to spare in Taihape (at the reject jean store). While in Taihape, our entronage reccomends the Brown Sugar Cafe for reaaaaaally good coffee and foodage. I remember the good old days (ie – before I went to Japan) when we used to have picnics during long road journeys instead of stopping in cafes. In fact, there weren’t even cafes – only tearooms. It’s so much cooler to be driving reaaaally fast listening to reaaaaaaaally loud music (even if ears do pop when windows are wound up – no air con in the honda accord) than sitting in the back seat feeling carsick like I used to. Did that make sense? I’ve just finished a bottle of wine so I hope so. This is all written post-humouressly by the way. Oh god, I wrote btw, but then had to erase it. That’s what nearly two years on chat’ll do to an otherwise nice girl. Annnnnyways………

So yeah, whenever we stopped and met up, it was a very joyous occasion for me and Jo. I’m not sure what the people in Bombay thought of two girls kissing (that’s not SNOGGING, sorry to disappoint). Oh well, I’m sure they needed it. She’d managed to charm Si’s momma into sharing the stereo, and they sat smoking away in the air conded mitsubishi as happy as Larry.

Simon’s mother had booked us into the Mount Eden Motel, on Balmoral Road. Shihad stayed there too, but I guess we’ll get to that a little later. We had to go to the shore to drop Jo off at Matter’s, so that was a laugh and a half. Then we had advacado on bread for dinner. Mmmmmm.

I got on the phone like really soon after we got there, and so Si and I headed up Mount Eden Road to Shirley’s house. Classy Classy place, so near town, but it’s $120 a week each for her and her sis which is a bit too much, so she’s looking for a new place. I’d love to live in her house, only we want somewhere that’s bigger than two bedrooms.

I was a trifle worried about where we were to sleep, since it was a one bedroomed unit. I mean, I’m grown up enough to not mind having to sleep in the same bed as a boy, or an older woman, BUT I hate sharing a bed at the best of times, and especially in sticky sticky hot summer. As it turned out though, it was semi-sweetass, cos I got to sleep on the sofabed in the lounge while Si and Si’s Momma did the Oedipul thing. Well, not quite. She SNORES sooooooo loud man. I fully couldn’t sleep.

Wednesday the 16th of December

I slept in until 3pm today. What does that say about me? That’s cool, cos I loved it. The trouble is, that since my room’s at the front of the house, so in the mornings it heats up a lot. I wake up in the heat to open my windows, stretch out and go back to sleep, with my arms still above my head, in a stretch position. So when I wake up three hours later, they’re all numb from lack of blood. It’s probably not the best way to start the day, eh? Still, it’s better than the other morning, when I thought I could open the door for Pixie and still stay in bed. One arm managed to reach out and lean on the wall, but when the other arm reached out for the door handle, everything went horribly wrong, and I ended up falling head over heels onto the cork tile floor, taking all the covers with me. More than a little dazed, someone I reached up and opened the door. Pixie got one hell of a fright when she came in to be nose to nose with me, I tell you. But probably not as much of a fright as I got, falling smack on my ass.

But yeah anyways, like I said that was another day, and I do believe we were talking about today. The good thing about waking up that late is that the sun is at the back of the house, where one of the bathroom windows is. Since the window’s at head height in the shower, the afternoon sunshine comes in to turn the water into liquid diamonds and rainbows, and it’s just the coolest thing in the world to wash in. It’s like being a faerie, rather than just a lazy bitch in the shower.

After that, we headed down the hill to buy our Xmas tree – YAY! I love the whole tree aspect of xmas. In fact, I love almost everything about Xmas. The more commercial, the better, I say. Some people are all like “but we’re forgetting the whole religious aspect of it” – well, GOOD! What it comes down to is that Yuletide was celebrated a long time before all the Christian stuff came into it, as a way to brighten up an otherwise bleak winter. In my opinion, anything’s a good enough reason to over-indulge and get lots of pressies. In Japan, there’s a day called White Day on March the 14th that was INVENTED by a chocolate company. It’s kind of like Valentines Day, only women are expected to give stuff to men on it. Go Go Commercialism, I say. Personally, I’m hoping that sometime in the near future, there’ll be an International Joanna Day. That’d rock.

So yeah, the tree got trimmed in the evening, and all that fun stuff, cos Karen came over. There was a Father Ted Xmas special (which was a repeat) that was bloody hilarious. Karen and I pissed ourselves at a joke shown in the ad for it, then laughed even harder when it came up in the program, which is kind of unusual. She wouldn’t let me put the plastic baubles on the tree, which I guess is fair enough, because we have so many pretty glass ornaments – bubbles in all different shades. The tree is probably one of the most classically shaped trees we’ve ever had, since we left Germany. It’s pointy and full and superb. It was $25, which is a little more expensive than trees normally are, but it was worth it. Once in Japan, me and Mum paid $200 for a tree. I’m not allowed to tell anyone that, so we’ll keep it as our little secret, okay?

My grudge page seems to be doing pretty well for itself. Matter (his name is Matt, but since he’s not THE matt, I don’t want anyone getting confused) from Vision said he’d do a cgi-script or something for me, so that I don’t have to have it in the ugly dreambook, I think he’s just doing it to make me feel inadequate. Yes, I don’t know hardly any HTML at all, and yes, I do most of my pages in Frontpad (this one’s being done on Dreamweaver, but it’s my first) but I don’t make my life out of designing webpages, okay? I do put my life into pages, but the pages aren’t my life. Does that make sense? I dunno, maybe I’m just being too ungrateful. I mean, I do appreciate him putting his time and effort into it and all, so mmmmmm. Yeah. Get in contact with me. I like feedback, and you have so many opportunities to do it.