Hubris.co.nz

A. Dreams:

1. My second best friend from High School trying to tell me that I had COE because I had bought a birthday cake and a lasange for a party I was throwing for her but she thought I was going to eat it all by myself. We had a very vicious fight after that.

2. A bunch of people sitting around watching me and Jesus (or maybe a guy pretending to be Jesus) getting ready to have butt sex and timing it so that we’d both come at the same time as the second big guitary bit in ‘Hysteria’ by Muse. Was this dream caused by:
a) discussions about a particular NZ novel that I FUCKING HATE but everyone except for Karen seems to love
b) downloading too much gang bang porn or
c) listening to Muse too often, too loud in order to escape flood of oppressive emails and the horrible ambient bleeps and clicks music that my officemate plays (and leaves playing when he goes off to meetings),
or d) all of the above?

3. Looking in the yellow pages for strip clubs to go to with Brian from I Keep a Diary. We were looking for one in his home suburb of London, which was Glastonbury (of course). I think the Yellow Pages was kind of Harry Potter like, because the ads all had moving pictures.

One day I will be a New York Hipster too. Wait, does this mean that I have to put a picture of Carrie Bradshaw at the top of my page, and write about the perfect Louis Vuitton handbag my perfect boyfriend gave me, and about how people who buy stationary at the Warehouse are third class citizens and how those homeless people obviously deserve it because they frowned at me? You know what I’m talking about. Some websites are total car crashes – you hate them passionately but you just can’t stop reading them.

Speaking of Reow, I just saw one of my friend’s comments to someone else on their journal, and hot damn, it was excellent – but very reow. I’m sure the reow was well deserved, from the sound of things.

B. Moving:

Last night I went to Anji’s to pick up my key for our new place, and she drove a vanload of her stuff over and I helped her unpack it. We used torches cos the power wasn’t on yet. It felt ever so vaguely X-Filesy. The place wasn’t quite as big as I remembered it being, but that’s okay, it’s still more than big enough for us. I just hope Sebastian will be okay with the move. Pixie will sure be glad to have him gone though.

I’m going to take some more stuff and Jessie over to it tomorrow, hopefully, and then of course on Sunday we’re going to Oma’s to pick up my fridge and fill up the van and car with more of my stuff. I hate moving. Still at least this isn’t being done on the hottest day of summer, and I’m quite determined not to be hungover for this move. Hopefully. Although if anyone has anything that they want to invite me to tonight, please feel free.

I haven’t told my parents yet that I’m moving out. I could text them, but that’d be pretty spac. They sent me some big long text message in Dutch to pass on to Oma. Altavista reckons that they said: “Kind mam. Congratulated warmly with your anniversary. Sorry that the photograph von me on camel gestuurt cannot become on Neil’s tel. von Moroko. Have the Sahara survives. Hops that you the little girls have gezein. Many liefs. Aimee and Neil.” So there you go, if you were curious about their trip.

C. Watching:
Trading Spouses: uptight vegan vs crazy alligator rassling Cajuns. Bless this show.
The Secret Life of Us – Season Two: arrived this morning by courier, less than 24 hours after I bought it on Trademe. Hurrah! More Evan goodness,
Scrubs: goddamit, isn’t Garden State out yet?
In My Father’s Den: I bought the DVD. Now I’ll finally get to find out what that Mazzy Star song is called.
The OC: Brad’s coming over tomorrow night. Good times.

On Saturday morning, after a bunch of stupid spam texts, and a stupider “don’t spam me!” text that I got before the others, I went flathunting with Anji. We looked at three properties and debated in the Aro Cafe for a while about the merits of the one in Mt Vic vs. the one in Hataitai. The Mount Vic one, while being full of character and featuring a built in liquor cabinet had a tiny skoddy bedroom, while the Hataitai one was HUGE, and so we took that one. Hurray for three bedrooms and a lounge AND a dining room. It will be very good for entertaining in.

Speaking of entertaining, after I spent the rest of the day cooking and cleaning, I went and picked up a vanload of she-males on Marion St, and took them back to my house for a “dinner party”. According to all reports, a good time was had. I didn’t even go psycho! That’s always good. I did try to get everyone to stay with me forever and ever, but I’d forgotten to make that wish with a vengence demon within earshot, so they took off sometime after 1am. I thought five courses (if you include canapes and cheese) would have been enough to render everyone unable to walk. Maybe next time I will have to cut off their legs.

Yesterday Karen and I watched Team America (fuck yeah!) and I ignored all the mess. I can’t de-stretch the dining room table by myself, so why should I clean the bottles and glasses off it? But I do intend to clean up tonight. And write my reviews that I promised to get to the lady by tomorrow. And change my sheets. And all that kind of stuff. Yeah.

Thank god it’s only 20 sleeps or less until I’m on holiday. Of course before then I have to move two households, do a buttload of work and prepare a workplan for the time that I’m off (on leave without pay, I did mention that, right? Bah!). In the meantime, I will continue on my quest to find the perfect Mee Goreng at this end of the city. It’s not at Cintra, although Cintra’s is better (and much much cheaper) than Satay Kampong’s. Istana Malaysia is currently leading the pack, except that it’s not open on Mondays and Tuesdays and they say when I walk in the door “Mee Goreng Chicken, medium hot, no egg”. Knowing how I want my coffee is fine, but knowing how I want my noodles is just embarrassing.