Hubris.co.nz

Monday August 12th

Most of the weekend was made shit because of the tremendous inconvienience of the fucking film crew in our house blocking off access to the bathroom, phoneline and even electricity for my computer. GRRRR. There were good bits though, like going for a drive with KateH to try and find food – apparently almost every cafe has a closed kitchen at 4.45pm, but I wouldn’t recommend Fire&Earth just cos it’s open – the food really is mediocre, and the service is SLACK and it’s overpriced for what you’re getting. But Saturday night was cool at times – Bo and I went to the Temple to see the rogues play (that’s not their actual band name, it’s just the rogues’ band – you know, Leo and Berrin and Chris and Will, although I guess Lawerence is the original rogue but he’s not actually in the band, he just dances madly and there was a girl there who coulda been his doppelganger in a skirt). We did spots before hand, and then Bo made me walk down that really really steep street off City Road and through the carpark, and I just couldn’t do it, it was really really freaky, and I thought that there were cliffs and she kept pretending like she was going to jump off them, and that coupled with her Coyote Ugly impressions were just sending my head swimming. The rogues were really good, except for oh wait, I actually don’t really like reggae very much. But it was weird to see Leo singing, when he’s normally so quiet and stuff. He was goood though.

And today I had to do a client presentation, and Haley gave me strict instructions to dress all in black, so I wore my new black shirt and my getting old short black skirt, and put my boots in my backpack cos I can’t walk down hills in them, they’re purely just for looking like a hoochie in (except in this case, it was a corporate PR hoochie look I was after). We had Brian Edwards lecture us this morning, and he was fucking excellent and really really interesting. Next week we’re having Nicky Hager, the king’o self PR. And we’re also going on a field trip to Westfield Newmarket for Corporate Communications. Exciting!

Anyways, so I made it down the hill after my lecture safely and comfortably in my birkis, and then switched to my boots and raised my height and self esteem by about 3 inches. Haley and I were working on our presentation, starting from scratch, but then she wrote me a note, since we were working in a crowded office, and we started writing notes to one another, and it turns out we’ve both got a crush on the same boy (there’s not very many boys doing PR at all), and we both kept getting distracted by staring at him or trying to say witty things. And then when we were running through our presentations to practice, he kept trying to catch my eye and distract me, but I ignored him, excellent. Tehehehehhe. I did include in my note to Haley that I have crushes on a dozen boys right now, but in later conversations with Bo tonight, we narrowed it down to four or five. It’s just fun having a crush on a boy at tech, cos like, he makes me smile when I see him, and get all giggly, and that makes class much more exciting! So yeah, plus having collective crushes is all good when it’s not serious (well not yet it’s not). Anyways. So our client came in, and she was impressed with our appearances, so we fessed up that we’d both dressed in black on purpose and had probably spent more time discussing that than what we were gonna say to her, and we presented to her and Aline and it went okay despite being nervous. We’ll probably not get very good marks, but hey, at least that’s step one over. And now we have to start doing some actual work. Our client ended up honking at me and giving me a ride up the hill afterwards, which was excellent cos I was still wearing my uncomfortable boots. She told me if I didn’t want them, she’d have them, which was very flattering cos she’s very well dressed, and opening a hatshop next week that we’re invited to. She even said “I ordered two extra cases of champange when you guys RSVP’d cos you look like lushes,” and when I said that i was, she said I was a girl after her own heart. Excellent.

But when I got home, I was just totally exhausted, too long spent in class and working and gossiping and giggling and being stressed out about formal presentations, plus I had a bad caffiene crash (normally I don’t have caffiene, but if I have a coffee at lunch, I tend to follow it with a coke later – like just one is not enough). So I took to my bed to read American Gods (SO GOOD) some more, and have a siesta, and woke up feeling much better. Then Bo and I went to Two Monkeys for noodles, and hung out lots. We had a big big analytical talk about an issue in my life, and we decided that her and KateH will suss it tomorrow night, and give me the full report back (Katie, don’t forget, you’re mine tomorrow – you WILL get to meet the boy (also, HA, I think it’s funny the way I will use ‘the boy’ a million times in journal entries and will be talking about many different people and I just expect you to know who I’m talking about), who incidently rang to talk to Clay tonight, except that of course Clay was out so he just talked to me for ages and ages, and I called him angsty and traumatised some more, probably in a sick attempt to make him so). We turned out the lights in the lounge to watch two cars get towed outside, and laughed a lot when we realised that the people in the apartment across the hall were doing the exact same thing. Oh yeah, things get pretty exciting in our street!

Friday August 9th

Youse guys can probably expect a real journal entry from me some time around November 22nd, which is the day after the end of exam week, the day after my final project is due, the day after my major client event and also the day that I will be starting on the dole presuming I don’t get Terri’s job. Then I might actually have some time to myself and won’t be quite so completely and utterly and totally mentally drained. That’s all. Please send me nice things.

Wednesday August 7th

Please don’t consider this to be a full picture in any way, if you want to know what’s really going on in my life, you WILL have to write me. Or call me (Mazzy, what the fuck? I was talking about three different boys, not the one, and if you were up with the play, you’d know that).

Last night me and Jezza and Morrison and Nigel went to the AUT pub quiz and spent my $20 tab and won a $30 tab. We also bought the quizmaster a drink cos he was cool, and also, if he’s stalked me off my cellphone picture, HI. And we will win the $50 tab next week. And then we went to Oporto and I got groped by a horrible skanky horrible disgusting icky old man. ewwwwwwwwwwwww.

This morning Bo and I went to St. Lukes to pick up a shirt for me, although we were both shuddering at the Mallness of it, and then we went to Roasted Adiquition for breakfast. OH MY GOD their hashbrown stack with turkish pide, aioli, advamacado and pesto is delicious! Oh yeah, but before that, I was jolted outta sleep by Haley calling me to ask which apartment was mine adn I was like “FUCK! I’ll just put on some clothes and come and find you” and we finished our presentation which FUCK FUCK FUCK I gotta do now. No wait, I’ll do it tomorrow morning. Cool. SHIT. Fuck. I can’t believe I forgot about that completely. And about turnign in my CV for the job which I’m really starting to doubt that I’m going to get. FUCK. Nah it’s cool, this way I can fit in seeing my HR tutor tomorrow to talk to her about my hypothesis about Sick Building Syndrome (moral of the story is – go to your tutorials and you won’t be stuck with the lameass topics no on eelse wants). Where was I? Work at 12.30pm, yeah, and longmeetings about Courses and Careers Day, and then I spent the afternoon looking up catering websites.

Anyways so this evening, I left the house with $50, and now I have come home with 2 expensive cocktails, one flavoured vodka shot, one bottle of red wine, one kebab and two taxi rides in my belly and empty pockets, so I guess I did okay, mostly coasting on the charms’o lovely KateH. Lovely Popular KateH who even manages to know people in common with the random “hi ladies – do you mind if I introduce myself?” guy at Deschlers. We drank at the Classic, and then didn’t go to Starks cos we’re still banned, and then Deschlers for ages of course so American Friend Amy could drink Chocolate Monkeys, and then Kate and I had a boogie at Retro Night while Amy slept in the corner and now I’m home, dropping my kebab on my breasts cos I wisely took my shirt off. I can’t feel the cold. ALSO! I had to leave Buffy with like, 15 minutes still to go, how rude! AND I idnt’ even get laid out of it – previously, only boys taking me to the bedroom have managed to lure me away from that programme, adn that was under duress (yes, and one of you knows who you are, with that whole leaving your laptop behind ploy, and as for the other one, well I’d be suprised if he could even write his name, frankly. But we’re way off track. My point was, I think I missed Buffy and Spike having sex, and that’s a momentuous occasion!). But still, I had a great night, especially dancing at the end, and so Katie and I decided that our cheap ethnic food and wine BYO nights will now take place on Wednesdays so we can go dancing after. Kickass

Tuesday, July 23rd 2002

In which Joanna and Bopha have Retro Night

“I haven’t done it either. I’m not a nymphomaniac – I’m a compulsive liar”. Guess who’s been watching ‘The Breakfast Club’ again?

Dreams this morning involved me scoring some random guy so that my friend could cheat on her boyfriend with the other guy that we were with, and one of the those guys happened to be Josh from Home and Away. We ended up crashing a Hercules plane into the desert in French Morrocco, and my friend got taken by white slave traders, and there was much hiding behind rocks and stuff until I woke up. Mm. It’s full moon kinda weather, right? My periods are no longer nsync with the moon, but my dreams apparently still are. Then again, if Bopha and clay jump on me again like they did tonight while I’m trying to swallow my bleed pill and make me cough it up, then who knows what will happen. Chaos, utter total chaos. Possibly.

Human Resources Communication lecture was actually really good, and plus I really like Lenny, so that’s cool. Hey Maz, if you read this before I have a chance to call you (and if that’s the case, then we are LAME) which text books should I buy this semester?). Then, cos I had a two hour gap before my next class, I hopped on a link and went to Newmarket to look for a stereo. Or rather, I waited 25 minutes for a link bus that is supposed to go every 10 minutes, which then took 20 minutes to get to Newmarket. Plus, I didn’t find a stereo. All I want is an Aiwa, Sony, or Pioneer microsystem stereo that has an RCA input plug and looks good for under $400. Why is that so hard? Actually, come to think of it, I haven’t seen a single Pioneer stereo anywhere. What’s up with that – are they just out of my price range or what? See, my parents hav always had pioneers, and me and my sisters have always had Sonys, so you know, I just wanna stick with waht I know. But then again, half the reason I want a new stereo is because the laser in my Sony stereo has been dead for a year and a half. Then again, I did buy it at the start of 1995, but it cost $800 then. So who knows.

OH MY GOD! I almost strangled someone in my Coporate Communication class this afternoon. We were doing an exercise on evaluating a particular politician’s postives and negatives and suggesting tactics for them before the election, and my group was working on Peter Dunne. There was one girl in my group who was like “Who? I don’t know who any of the leaders of any of the parties are”. OH MY FUCKING GOD! Okay, so maybe Peter Dunne was until last week one of the lesser known politicians but you HAVE to know him by now! And so I was like “what? how can you not know?” and she was like “oh, I have no interest in politics – I don’t really watch the news or read the paper” and later she was like “oh, I don’t htink I’ll vote – I don’t know what anyone’s about. Mum doesn’t like labour though”. I was just about ready to jump across the desks and throttle her. SHE IS A THIRD YEAR COMMUNICATIONS STUDENT FOR FUCKS SAKE! There is absolutely no fucking excuse for that kind of bullshit. Okay, it would have been fair enough if she’d grown disillusioned with the system, or disliked the policies of everyone, or was making a protest non-vote, or even if she was voting for Winston Peters cos she liked his three fingers, or ANYTHING like that, but NO! She didn’t have a single thought or opinion. Sure, maybe later years of the BCs didn’t have the benefit of the best Politics tutor in the world, Marcus, but if she can’t follow the media, she has absolutely no fucking right to be doing a A GODDAM MEDIA DEGREE! Especially with a major in PR. In Multimedia possibly there would be the faintest chance in the world that she could bury her head in code and never see daylight, but in PR, it is completely essential you have a grip on the environments that your organisation is operating within, and politics is vital to that. You don’t have to like it, but you should at least be able to identify who the leader of a party is. Even goddam fucking personification of stupid old flatmate Ben probably would have been able to tell you who he was voting for (because he like d cannibas and thought that the Greens were a single issue party in that respect) and would have had one or two issues that would have concerned him – ie the closing of Thames Hospital cos his parents were nurses. But oh no, not this girl. One of the other girls in my group was voting for Winston, which is tragic, but I still really like her as a person, and the other was going National, but she explained her standpoint, and while I didn’t agree I could at least respect it.

But yeah, after wadling up the hill in the rain, Bopha and Clay shared my total and utter indignation at that girl’s complete ignorance, and then I went a little bit mental, completly hypo. Hmm, I can’t remember what teh end of that word is – hypo ummmmmmmmmm. Hyperactive. It was fun, and Bops laughed at me lots, which is also kinda fun. So us two planned a retro night, with liquor and ‘The Breakfast Club’ since she’d never seen it. We were in the bottle store in Newmarket when the guy ID’d us – which is probably fair enough cos we spent ages debating the virtues of drinking RTDs in retroness, and I just laughed at him, and then was like “fuck, actually I don’t think i have my drivers license” and I was rattling out the same prattle that I used to use 8 years ago when I wasn’t actually legal to drink, but then finally I found it, and was hugely relieved cos I was just about to be really embarrassed. Yeah anyways. We tried to play a drinking game with The Breakfast Club, doing shots any time anyone said that their homelife was worse than anyone else’s, anytime anyone was called by their name, any time you saw a clock, any time Allison stole something and anytime anyone swore but eventually got lazy. According to Bops, if I was a Breakfast Club character, I would be Claire the princess, played by Molly Ringwald, with elements of all the others except for the jock thrown in. I kinda think Bopha would be the jock, except she’s so not, but she’s no one else better, and Clay would definately be the nerd. That’s all I’ll say about that movie (for now, anyways).

After that, we was watching music tv, so we had to run out into the hallway and try to learn the dance moves to ‘Step By Step’ by NKOTB on the public staircase. We think we got something going on, except then we were throwing in the panda dance, and also the crazy maraca thing Bops and I had been doing to a Santana song on Sunday night, so it got pretty fucked up. According to her, we’re almost at hte point where we don’t even need to talk anymore to know what each other mean, adn soon we will be communicating entirely in a language of clicks and beeps and “BO BO BO badabibi” I keep telling her stories, and she keeps wanting to meet people she’s heard about, so fi you’ve never met Bops, now is the time to get your act together and drop round.

ALSO! On July 17th, it was Hubris’s THIRD BIRTHDAY. This is very special and important, and hey, actually, I might like, you know, release merchandise soon. THREE! I can’t believe it.

Monday, July 22nd 2002

In which I attempt to be a professional student

So I had class today at 11am, which is an excellent time to start the day, but I’d meant to get up around 9am cos I wanted to you know, actually make use of my mornings. Unfortunately, that plan interupted one of the nicest dreams I’d had in a while – I was sitting somewhere when this guy walked past who looked really familiar walked past, so I was like “Simon?” and it was Simon Darby who I had a crush on in 6th and 8th grade (not 7th though, cos that would have been too easy) and he turned around and gave me this really huge big really nice hug, and it was really cool, and like, we just had this big connection in the hug, and so after that, we just had an understanding, and he introduced me to his dad, who was like “Have I ever heard of this girl before?” and when Simon said no I was like “but wait a minute! you had a crush on me in the 5th grade! howcome you didn’t tell your dad then?”. Anyways, it was cool, but then my fucking alarm went off. Still, it set me up to feel all mellow and peaceful.

That of course changed when I got to tech and everyone was trying to figure out their schedules. See, the Grad Dips in PR (that’s me) take Public Relations Practice class, and the BCs students (that’s most of the people who I like) take Public Relations Planner class, and the only difference is that Planner is worth 2 credits so they have to do twice as much work as us. This means that I won’t be able to work with my friends, which is fine, cos I am a grown up after all, but it meant that classes are all fucked up, cos we have a workshop, a lab, a tutorial and a meeting each week, and schedules are all fucked, and room numbers were crazy and I was actually put into a Planners class not a Practice class, and and and. Yeah. Anyways. So, as our Planners assignment, we’re supposed to take on a Not-For-Profit client and deliver them professional results (as one of our tutors said “we’re expecting you to service the clients in any way that they need”). You might remember this kinda thing from my work for the NSCC while I was doing my multimedia major which resulted in the NSCC hiring me after that to do PR for them. Unlike in Multimedia, this time we get to have some input into which clients we chose, so all week we’re going to get presentations from various groups who want us. I will be kinda vague, but I gotta list them to explain to you my choices. The first one sounded interesting, sculpture exhibition stuff to raise money for Women’s Refugee, but there’s already a BCs student working on it, which means that i can’t do it (we work in groups, but in segregated groups). The next presentation was from a cute guy in a sharp looking suit (I’ve decided that dress is very important to me, unfortunately) but he wanted help on a “hugs not drugs” campaign, and there’s where I have to exercise my own personal ethics and say no, because it’s not something I believe in (see, PR people DO have ethics). Other ones that followed didn’t sound at all interesting, apart from the AUT fashion show, so I might try for that, or otherwise hopefully there will be some interesting sounding ones I can pick up later this week. I think it’s about time I had an interesting and styley client.

In other exciting news, apparently I am banned from Starks. !!!. This is cool because I have never been badass enough to have been banned from anywhere before. And it makes me laugh, so much so that Bops and I dropped in on KateH tonight to laugh in person. But we had to leave cos it was reaaaaally hot, and I’d already accomplished my mission of taking Katie chocolate as an act of retribution for crimes I committed against her on Saturday night.

Later tonight I watched an episode of “Queer As Folk” that I’d taped last night after I joyously discovered that TV4 were doing late night repeats of it and ‘Sportsnight’ on sundays. It was still excellent, of course, but I’m sure that Stuart and Nathan were so much hotter two years ago. Perhaps it helps if you’re watching it with a boy who’s similarly salivating.

Hmm, i think Saturn5 is under repairs so I can’t upload right now. Nevermind. I can always do this later, although I should probably go to bed soon. I’ve got a new fetish for my hotwater bottle which I rediscovered in teh great closet cleanout of last week. Now I should just do some laundry so I can actually see my nice new carpet and I’ll be all sweet. Oh, and pay my domainz fee. I already let one lapse.

Sunday July 21

You’ll have to excuse me if I fall asleep in the middle of typing this. I’m very very tired. Too much debuchary and the like – either that or just too much drinking. KateH adn I had a big debriefing on the phone today and it turns out that neither of us can remember walking from the Supper Club to Oporto, which is kinda amusing. Also, I’m in trouble with her, but if I might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb (ha! when’s the last time you heard THAT expression?) so I’ll relate a little story to you about her right now. After all it’s not often that I get to mock her. Anyways, so we were talking to this girl at the rooftop party who had a flower in her hair, and KateH was like “oh I can smell your rose from here” and the girl was like “but it’s a camelia” and more to the point, she pulled it out and showed us that it was fake. What Kate was in fact smelling was the rose moisturiser she had on her own hands. What a dick! Heh. Okay, so it was probably much much funnier at the time.

So today I slept in til almost 2pm, then vegetated in front of the TV for large periods of time, feeling ever so slightly ill, but not too bad. Much much later, Clay Bops and I went out to dinner at Salsa on Richmond Road. It was really small and cozy and warm, and the owner was lovely and the food was excellent, so it comes highly recommended. So there. And yeah, basically that’s all I have to say. I have to go to school tomorrow, poos. But luckily class doesn’t start until 11am. Have I mentioned lately how madcrazy hectic my scheduale is this semester? Thank fuck I’m not taking four papers. As it is, I have three classes on monday, two on tuesdays, one on wednesday then 4.5 hours of work, three classes then 2.5 hours of work on Thursday and I’m working 9-5 on Fridays. Madness. Okay, so real people work a lot more than that, but I’m not really real, remember. Bed for me now – before midnight even. Crazy.

xojo

Monday the 15th of July, two thousand and two

At work today, I was running MSN Messenger (cloud_tiare) cos it was on my computer and cos both Teri and Bridget were out of the office and I didn’t have anything to do except answer their phones if they rang (in the morning, I rushed over to answer Teri’s, picked it up and was like “Good morning Communications Office, Teri speaking” before I realised my mistake and I had to go “wait wait wait, sorry, I’m not actually Teri, I meant it was her phone” when the woman on the other end started talking all familiarly) and of course Skew didn’t tell me until I’d made a mad dash across the office for Bridget’s phone that I could just dial her extension on my phone and push 8 to get her call. But anyways, what was my point? Oh yeah, I was talking to Peter on MSN, and he said that there’s a theoretical petition in existence that I should write my journal every day, and so far him and Jane have signed it. And if he’s making up fibs about you again Jane, then I’m sorry, but hey, it’s Peter, and what do you expect? And also, I think you should write about wanking – people will think you’re weirder if they suspect that you don’t do it. And have I got Pete in trouble enough yet?

Anyways, the 13 minutes or so that it took for me to eat a sandwhich sitting outside in the sun froze me to the bone, but at least it was sunshine, right? What else is noteworthy? The fax machine in our office doesn’t like me, and it won’t work, unless i’m alone, in which case it works fine. I think it’s trying to make me look incompetent – and it’s succeeding. But I mastered it while I was alone, and so I resolve never to let it smell my fear again. So yeah, obviously a very productive day all around. I have two days off now, finally, then part two of my induction course on Thursday morning (this time we get a tour around the main part’o the organisation, exciting!) and work on Friday afternoon, then back to tech on Monday. I worked out my time table – it sucks. Well actually, I have no classes earlier that 10am, which is excellent for me, but I will be working 4.5 hours on Wednesdays after class, 2.5 on Thursdays, and then all day fridays. Grr. Still, money is good. I like money. Also today, I got 2/3 of my exam results – a B and a B+, but I have no idea which papers were which, cos they just give you the paper #, not its name, and who ever remembers those? Still I’m pleased, and will be even more pleased if one of those is Persuasive Communication ie: the exam I don’t remember sitting cos I was so doped up. And speaking of which, soon I will find out if my migraines are going to be a reoccuring theme.

OH! OH! OH!!!!!! OH OH OH! That’s the other thing I had to tell you! I got my birthday present from Olivia and s5 in the mail today. They sent me a Vinne’s Tampon Case and Journal! I am in love with Vinnie now, and also o and s5, but then I always loved them anyways. It kicks ass! Clay was like all “ummmmmm. ummmmmmmm. ummmmmmmmm” when he first saw it and I told him it was a coffee table book, but then he picked it up and flicked through it and saw how cool it was. I like talkign about bleeding, and now I get to write about it even more too! Speaking of which, according to my packet, I am one day late. Oh well. I’m all mango enough now to know it’ll be real soon, like tomorrow. Also, isn’t it weird how your period cramps don’t kick in until you go to the bathroom and see that you’re bleeding? Yes, yes it is!

Okay, that’s about it. Hopefully tomorrow I will be all domesticated and clean my room and the lounge and do the dishes and go vege shopping. It’s holidays but all my friends are busy working super duper hard, as per usual, at their jobs and careers. Shucks. So no holiday for me. Bops comes back on Friday – I want her back NOW.

Tuesday June 25th

Just before midnight, that thing in my head snapped again, and the entire left side of my head started to throb and pulsate and ache ache ache. The pain was incredible, I hadn’t felt its like except for on Saturday and Sunday nights as well. I couldn’t take it anymore. I sat up in bed and cried for about fifteen minutes wondering how badly it would scare my mother if I’d rung her at that hour. My head was really freaking me out, and I needed it to stop. It’s kinda terrifying to feel like a blood vessel has burst in your brain. Bopha was fast asleep with two exams the next day, and Clay wasn’t home, so I ended up canvassing opinions via txt, until someone agreed with me that yes, maybe I should go to the hospital since I’d been in pain for three days and it wasn’t getting any better – in fact, it was getting worse (and I know I don’t say enough good things about you sometimes, so thank you, I’m so glad to know you’re always there for me when I’m having a crisis, and you know I’m always there for you too, if you need me). I woke Bops because I had no money for a taxi, and she offered to come with me, but I said she shouldn’t, because I knew we’d end up waiting hours and hours, and because I was crying and in pain to the point where I could hardly talk, and because of her exams. I managed to scrape together $5 in coins, which was just enough.

I felt so fucking stupid, telling hte guy at the counter that I had “a headache” because it sounds so goddam prissy and lame, but he was very nice and told me that three days was an extreme length of time, and he called me sweetheart in a really nice way. He took me to a room in the ER and left me there for ages, which I understand cos I know they have to prioritize. I held my head in my hands and felt nauseous, and listened to the staff calling for diazaphan for the guy in the room next to me who was having fits. That made me feel kind of like a fraud, but there is only so much pain and misery a girl can take. It was a fucking hard call to make though, having to take enough responsibility for myself to seek treatment. Meh. Eventually a nice nurse called Jayne came along and took me to another room, and gave me a wristband with my name and phone number on it, and told me to get undressed and put on one of those funny hospital gowns. I’d be expecting them to just shine a light in my eyes and tell me I was pathetic and wasting their time, so I was like “umm, you have the right piece of paper right? I’m here with a headache?” and she laughed at me. Once I’d changed, she told me to lie down on a half propped up bed, took my blood pressure and pulse, turned out the lights and said the doctor would be in to see me soon. I think it must have taken about an hour for him to get to me, in which time I just cried like the big sooky girl I am, because it hurt, and because I was lonely and because I just wanted my mum. I really wished that there was someone who I could have called to go with me, that I wouldn’t have felt bad about asking, and so I decided that I need to have kids as soon as possible cos I figure by the time they’re 15, they can drive me and also, they’ll be completely obligated to me and everything, so I won’t need to feel guilty, and they’ll be matyred to me. And yeah, I know that when my darling friends read this, they’ll all be like “you could have called me” but how do you call someone at 12am and say “hi, I have a headache, can you please get up and come to the hospital and wait a couple of hours with me?” It just doesn’t work like that. Still, Auckland Hospital is a scary horrible place to be alone in. It was miserable and I considered putting my clothes back on and running away, except that it wouldn’t have been running, it would have been a very slow, very painful crawl, and I would still be worried about what exactly was going on inside my skull.

Eventually the doctor came and examined me and asked me all the same questions that the nurse had asked me. He said that everything seemed fine, but that I had done the right thing to come in, and he told me that I didn’t have meningitis, which hadn’t even crossed my mind. He said that although I had no history of them, it might just be a particularly violent migraine, and said he would work through levels of pain relief with me, from basics, to heavier, to hooking me up to a drip and keeping me in overnight if need be. This meant sending in a nurse with panadol and voltarin and a glass of milk which she ordered me to drink to counteract the nasty stomach munchingness of voltarin, and leaving me for half an hour “to get some sleep”. Righto. I started tripping out, and could feel the pain in my head breaking free and floating loose, and then working its way into a little knot by my eye. What the fuck is it with hospitals and their fucking panadol? It’s like the time when I got hit by a car and they gave me panadol, only this time i wasn’t drunk and abusive, and I wasn’t inflicting hours of waiting torture on James and Maree. Anyways, finally my doctor came back to re-evaluate me. He said he was happy to keep me in overnight, but he thought that I’d probably sleep better at home and that was what would probably do the best for me, as long as he gave me some more pain relief before I went. Knowing that I had an exam in six and a half hours time, I agreed with him, so he dosed me up on straight codeine, wrote me out a script for some more, ordered me to see my GP as soon as possible for follow-up and gave me a piece’o paper detailing my tragic story.

Of course, I’d used up all my coins on the taxi to get to the hospital, and in my zonked state, I decided that it would be a good idea to walk home. When I left the hospital I thought the moon was half full – by the time I got over the Grafton Bridge, it was full, and I was by the graveyard and I kept seeing things and I couldn’t feel my legs anymore because of the 60mg of codeine. Things were a little odd, to say the least. The sky was really clear, and all the branches were ghostly, and I was doped off my tits, and yeah, fun times. At least my headache had subsided to a dull roar though. It was 3am by that stage, and then I woke up at 4am when the drugs wore off and my head was screaming again and my chest cavity felt like my ribs were all imploding. Odd.

So of course, there was extreme lack of sleep, and residual dopiness from the codeine, and the headache was back as soon as I got up this morning, so I had to take more nurofen plus. I would have been bouncing off the walls if I wasn’t reduced to sliding along the floor. In my exam, it took me fifteen minutes to be able to focus enough to copy down the question to the top of my page, and that really really fucked me off. I did an appalling job, and I’m really upset, because I could have done so much better. I know my LTSA topic inside out, and I’d done well on going through the other stuff too, ducking in between major migraineness, but I was so vague and blurry and doped just to try and get rid of the fucking pain. I went to fill out compassionate consideration forms straight after, but they’ll only allow me a “pass” which I think I might just get anyways, not an actual indication of the good mark that I could have got if it wasn’t for all this bullshit.

After the exam, I went to pick up my prescription – more codeine and voltarin, lovely. Everyone from my Persuasive Class was meeting at The Playhouse for lunch and drinking so I went along, spaced out and only able to drink coke. But the girl I dislike more than anyone kept screeching in my ear, and I was fading fast after the quick pickup of pills, so I went home, told Clay that I couldn’t talk because I wasn’t coherant, and slept for four hours. When I got up, there were concerned phonecalls from Maz and a bigass gorgeous lovely bunch of flowers from KateH, stark contrast to being alone and miserable in a hospital bed. They also came over really briefly, and Kate told me she’d deliberatly asked for Serene, Calming flowers. Awww. I’m looking forward to my party on Saturday, especially since I’ve had to forsake alcohol today and BradC and Clay are currently drinking Soju in honour of Korea/Germany. I’m also foresaking hte soccer as well, because I just can’t handle. I’m so fragile and fucked, and if I move my head, it hurts. Arrgh. At least I get to go home to my mum next Wednesday.

Monday June 24th

Can we have a Moment of Silence for the Evening Post please? I used to fucking write for them!

Last night the evil fucking hell migraine/burst bloodvessel/head about to explode feeling jumped up on me very very quickly again, and freaked me out because I was close to feeling like I was going to die, clutching an icepack to my head and a wet cloth to my eyes, and feeling like I wanted to throw up from the intensity of it all. It came back caused by a little strain, so at least I know what brings it on, but not why it happens. It’s extraordinary how painful it is, and how sudden and crazy and stuff. If I still get it in two days time, I am going to have to go to a doctor.

When I woke up this morning (after horribly vivid and disturbing dreams about having sex with one of the doctors on Shortland Street, made all the more disturbing by a possible undercurrent and also he was a premature ejaculator) the headache was back, not in the same magnitude, but still pulsating and not at all appeased by caffeine and panadol. That’s the circumstances that I sat my Communication Strategy exam in, head swimming nauseous circles, so I don’t really have high hopes, but I only needed 16/50 to pass the paper, so I’m sure I did okay really.

Back at home I was still feeling sore and sick, so after chamomile tea, so Bops and I went for a drive to a pharmacy to get me some real painkillers. Ahhh, blessed nurofen plus! 400mg of ibupofen and 25.6mg of codeiene later, I was feeling better – not 100%, but definately better. Bops threatened to confiscate the drugs off me and only dole them out as I really need them. She has a fear of painkillers, I believe. Meanwhile, I worked out over lunch that every single boy that I have fallen for in the past five years has had a fondness for codeine at some stage or another. Coincidence or criteria? You decide.

The rest of the afternoon has been mostly about studying Persuasive Communication, ie watching my video again (I still look ugly, but not as bad as I originally thought), and trying to decide on a secondary topic to persue. I was supposed to do Rowena’s seminar but a) I never saw it and b) I only just discovered today that the notes she emailed me didn’t actually convert to documents. So instead, I’m doing Communicator Style, as presented by Lauren. Of course, once I see the exam question, I might very well change my mind.

Sleeping pills didn’t help me last night due to the massive intensive pains, but hopefully they will help tonight since they are coupled with the lovely nurofen. So we shall see.

Thursday June 20th

Happy Birthday Daddy! I’ve fucked up everyone’s birthdays lately – it was Shirley’s on the 15th, not Andee’s. Andee’s was yesterday, not o’s. And o’s is tomorrow. Happy birthday o!

This morning I dragged myself out of bed and the house into the most miserable weather ever (three sleeping pills (relax, they’re just herbal) had actually allowed me to get a decent night’s sleep beforehand) to go down to tech and sit my Intergrated Marketing Communications exam. I decided last night that I’m going to get an A on it. I wrote about telemarketing, databases, heirachy of effects and the implications of new media in 2010 on IMC. I kick ass.

After that, back home in the horrible weather for a few quick puffs on a spliff with Bops and Emma and then it was off to Newmarket for my half hour massage. Ahhh bliss. I just wish that the guy hadn’t had coins in his pocket that kept jangling. I also wish that I wasn’t so tense and that I didn’t feel the need to fight back when someone is pushing me. At least I’m more comfortable about strangers touching me. Oh shut up.

Home again to laze around, completely relaxed except for Bopha scaring me. I had a lovely nap and mooched around doing sweet fuck all, except for baking a birthday cake for Emma. Her birthday was on Tuesday, but we were slack so we’re gonna celebrate it tomorrow along with Brazil/England. Come watch the soccer with us. (Oh also, Mazzy/Kate; yes Emma HAS moved out, don’t get worked up! We just like hanging out with her, okay? Good!)

Blah blah blah blah. I want the other half of my massage now please. I was afraid that I’d end up gurgling on the table but luckily I didn’t.