Tag: the breast club


What really happened Next

February 14th, 2006 — 7:37am

In honour of everyone at my work now knowing about my journal (dammit, although given that I’m number one on Google I always sort of expected this), here’s what I told the journalist via email.

Hi Danielle,

Please find below answers to your questions – I’m sure I will talk at
length, but if I haven’t explained myself very well at any stage,
please let me know.

There may be a lot of questions but please note, that most are just to help me set you up in my mind and provide background. I would also need to know your full name, age, occupation and where you live. That’s to provide background to the reader, and helps to introduce you into the article.

My full name is Joanna Tiare McLeod, and online I am known as Jo,
Joanna and Jo Hubris (there was another girl for a long time who moved
in the same circles called Joanna, and so we were differentiated from
each other by our domain names – she was Jo Starla. She doesn’t exist
any more though). I am 26 years old, I work doing communications for a
government agency (I work for * which is part of the ministry of
*, but I’d rather not specify if that’s okay – it keeps
things a little simpler with our incredibly long Code of Conduct), and
I’ve had an online journal for the past eight and a bit years.

SO what I want to ask is first, WHY the online journal?

An online journal to me is the virtual equivalent of a piece of paper and a pen – it’s about writing about yourself and being inward-looking. Blogs meanwhile are more outward-looking – too often they come across like “here’s a link and it’s funny” and that’s about the extent of their content. I’m not interested in doing that. I write because I would like to think that I am pretty good at stringing words together, and because I like to tell stories. A blog is usually about one particular subject, like politics or food or architecture (or at
least the good ones are), wheras online journals are a record of one person’s existence.

When I started my website in 1997, the word ‘blog’ didn’t exist. Back then as well as walking five miles to school barefoot in the snow, most web pages were done either in special programmes or hand-coded in HTML, and then uploaded onto the internet. There was none of this fill in a box and click tomfoolery that there is now, so people who had webpages had to be more dedicated and in to what they were doing than people who use things like blogger and myspace these days. I think in a way that meant content was a lot better. As a whole, people put more thought into it, and because it was so much more effort to get things
online, people were more likely to stick with it. This will sound incredibly stuck up, and please be aware that I am mocking myself here, but when blogging came along, and the media jumped all over it, it was kind of like I’d been doing all these great complex oil paintings and then all of a sudden people were like “woah, check out these awesome paint-by-numbers kits that people are doing!”.

I know a couple of people from New Zealand like Robyn from secret-passage.com and Annette (who’s now at nutandbee.com) and we were all doing the online journal and heavy content thing back in 1998 when there was like no one else in NZ doing it, and so we like to call ourselves the tangata whenua of the interweb. I can’t help but feel like I should get special recognition for doing it for so long. Man I got shitty when Bizgirl won a netguide award when SHE’S NOT EVEN REAL. Well, not that shitty, because James Guthrie is a friend of mine, but still…

What do you get out of it?

There used to be a lot of people who would write disclaimers on their pages things like “I keep this journal for me, and me only so if you don’t like it you can go away”, but that always struck me as being kind of silly, because if you didn’t want someone to read what you were writing, why would you put it out in the public forum? For me, I love having the audience. I think it pushes me to try to write better, to try and include more interesting stories and therefore even a little bit to try and live a more interesting life so that I have more
interesting things to write about. Knowing that I have an expecting
public (haha, oh, that sounds so wanky) gives me good motivation to
make sure that I continue to update my site, rather than just let it
slide like so many other projects I start without finishing. Hubris
serves as a useful place to let out my feelings when I am angry about
things, a platform for my opinions when I want other people to hear me
and also a place to build a sense of community in a way, so that if
there are ever people who find themselves going through things that I
have been through who come across the site might not feel so alone.
Which sounds very altruistic, but there’s something very cathartic
about writing about crappy stuff, even if it’s just in semi-coded
vague references.

It also means I can keep a record of more mundane things like books
I’ve read, movies I’ve seen, places I’ve eaten and when I get my periods. Looking back over journal entries is an awesome way to track moods and mental health, and also to see how far I’ve come in many ways.

Do you look at it as a place to express your thoughts, political views, worldwide views, talk about your life, your day or to vent?

All of the above. Hubris is full of pretty vapid empty crap sometimes,
like a big pile of whatever my catchphrase of the day is (“The Gilmore Girls are so hot right now”), and fairly mundane descriptions
of my day, while my locked down footnotes are where I vent. I have
political views that I think come through in my writing – I don’t
think anyone could read more than one entry and think that I was
right-wing, but I really don’t want to be seen a “political blogger”
because I’m just not that interested in the details. You’re much more
likely to find fairly broad statements about living as a decent human
being from me, or stuff like “so Don Brash has had sex with at least
three women? Really? Ewww”.

And I will bitch and moan about the state of the media or the state of
the world, but usually only about things related to me.

What made you start?

When I used to write a paper journal, I used to get a little frustrated thinking that I’d be the only person who ever read it. I wrote sometimes with an audience in mind, and would occasionally read (fairly censored) parts of it out loud to my friends.

I first came across online journals in 1998, when I was really into
Tori Amos, so I used to go to a lot of her fan sites, which were
mostly run by angsty American teenage girls who used to keep online
journals that were written in tiny little 8 point verdana font, and I
just really related to what they were doing. They had an outpost for
their thoughts and rantings, and an audience, and through their
guestbooks, they built a sense of community. I didn’t think I was as
angsty, or as obsessed with Tori Amos, and I didn’t like their sort of
competitive nature – it seemed like in order to be cool you had to be
on six different kinds of medication, cut yourself and have a
borderline eating disorder or a history of sexual abuse, but I could
relate to many of the things that others would write about – a sense
of alienation from your peers, and a yearning to be a writer, or just
to stand out, and so I started keeping an online journal too.

What made you carry on?

I enjoy doing it, and I love being able to look back on things. I’m
gutted that there are chunks of my life that are not as well
documented (like having the ihug hacker delete July-Nov ’98) or when I
was just too depressed to be able to write at all, but I am grateful
that there is this record, because basically all I really want to do
with my life is become famous enough that I can get an autobiography
published. Hehe. There’s a reason I had to use Hubris as a name…

But on a slightly less hubristic note, I’m full of regret that I never
got to hear enough stories about my grandparents’ lives. They left
behind some stories written down, but they’re handwritten, and on my
mother’s side they’re in Dutch, so I can’t really read them. I want to
make sure that there is some record of my life for my grandkids that
they can easily access, if they want it. I really admire what Heather
from dooce.com is doing for her daughter in that way, although I find
it kind of weird that I know more about what it’s like for this
complete stranger I’ve never even emailed to be raising a daughter
than my own mother’s experiences. That’s something I should work on.

Now that you are into it, do you think you will still be doing it a year from now? Two years?

Having been doing it nonstop for the past eight years, I have no doubt
that I’ll always be keeping an online journal of some sort.

Did you write a diary as a child/teenager/adult?

Yep. It was all descriptions of “she said ‘blah blah blah’ at school,
and pinings for the first boy I pashed. Hubris is pretty much no
different.

Is is something you gave a lot of thought to before starting or a spur of the moment thing?

I had wanted to start keeping an online journal for a while, but I
didn’t really give much thought to what I actually wanted to write in
it until I got going. Content has therefore evolved over time.

What do you write about?

I write about my day, parties I’ve had, injokes that are hilarious to
me and maybe two other readers, tasty food I’ve written, hatred of
people who talk at gigs, reviews of stuff, and I also post writing
that I’ve done for publication elsewhere.

Do you know who reads it? Do you have some sort of mechanism to find out who reads it?

I’m lucky with Hubris in that it’s a customised system my friend built
for me, so I can track everyone’s IP address, and also people can have
their own logins to the page which means every time they visit and
they’re logged in, it keeps a record. People can get themselves to
Level One, which is what some entries are locked to, but I have to
chose to bump them up to Level Two which is what my footnotes page is,
and any kind of rant about things that make me unhappy which shouldn’t
be talked about in public (like work issues), or things that I am
currently squeeing over – like crushes on people. I can actually put
in more levels too, so I can choose what information what people see.
Mostly level two membership just goes to people who I know really well
(online or in real life) or people who actively contribute to the
Hubris community – and by that I mean leave me comments, because of
course as an attention seeker, it’s all about the feedback.

Do you care? How careful about personal info on it are you? Do you include details about other people in your life?

Hubris is the number one result on google for a search on Joanna
Mcleod, so I write on the basis that anything I write can be read by
anyone – although as I mentioned above, I do have some security
measures but I’m aware if someone was dedicated enough they could hack
me. In the olden days before google, I used to use people’s full names
when I wrote mean things about them, and use my friends’ full names
and so forth, but I am much more aware of self-googling now so I don’t
do that so much. My restraint also includes never mentioning who I
work for (I don’t want to get dooced!) and trying not to give away too
much information about other people’s crap. One of my friends last
year made me remove every occurence of her name on the site because
she found her parents searching for her and therefore didn’t want her
name associated with drinking and drugs. Many years ago the first
time I went to bed with a certain boy in the morning he was like “this
isn’t going in your journal, is it?” – well that particular incident
didn’t go in, but I’ve said some very non complimentary things about
him since then, and him being a little drama queen, he’s done the
whole “lawyers, defamation, blah blah” speil. But funnily enough the
only legal letter I’ve had in regards to my website was regarding my
improper use of the word Sellotape (r) without using the registered
trademark symbol. Laaaaame.

Have other people, complete strangers (Like me!) been in touch?

Yes, many many many. In 1999, my friend and I used to have a thing
called The Breast Club, where we made scans of our chests in our bras,
and put them online and encouraged random people to send in theirs,
and so I met lots of people through that. Another time someone wrote
to me and said that since they read my site every day and it made them
happy they really wanted to send me a 21st birthday present.

Have you made new friends from it?

More than I can count – oh I’m so popular. Heh. But no, internet
friends are easy to make – you swap “i like your site” emails – well,
in the olden days you did, nowadays you comment instead, usually, and
that can progress to instant messaging, and then maybe you meet in
real life, and it’s all hunky dory.

Sometimes I meet (online and/or in real life) people through them
coming to my site – getting links from publicaddress.net brings them
in – and sometimes I meet them through contacting them on their sites,
or on forums, and then they come to my site to find out more about me.
It’s a way of demonstrating common interests or feelings, I suppose,
like joining a book club or a sports team might be in the real world.

Do you pay particular attention to what you write should someone you do care about it read it? Like your mum?

I do find myself censoring myself more than I’d like to sometimes
knowing that my friends read the site – sometimes I’d just like to
have a bit of a vent about a particular person without having
repercussions about it, but there are ways and means to get around
that, with different levels, or secret journals that others don’t know
about that.

I asked my parents not to read my site, although my dad did but I
think he was more embarrased about it than I was. I don’t have a lot
of boundaries anyway, so I’d like to think that the person I am online
is the person I am if you talk to me in real life – I don’t have that
much to hide.

Do you expect your family/friends to read it?

I’d actually kind of rather than my family didn’t read it, because
who’s more fun to bitch about than family? No one. And I feel
differently about different friends reading my site – I mean, when
it’s people I met online to begin with, that seems perfectly natural,
but the juxtaposition of my real life friends being in my online world
can be odd (and I know that contradicts my statement of being the same
in both worlds). If I’m away, or if my friends are away, I might cut’n
paste from my journal into emails to save telling hte same story over
and over again.

And if you do, do you feel offended if they haven’t?

If they’re not regular readers of my site, I don’t feel offended if
they don’t read it, but if they’re supposed to be regular readers and
I’m talking to them and they’re like “what? when did you do that?”
I’ll be all “DIDN’T YOU READ MY JOURNAL?” mock angry. But seriously, I
know that my journal can be a higher level of self disclosure than
some people might be comfortable reading (case in point: my review of
the Dimmer gig that was just sex sex sex).

But I would like to think that everyone wants to stalk me and know
every single detail about me ever.

Do you read other online journals or blogs?

Yeah there’s about 70 that I read religiously. Thank god for
Livejournal friends lists and RSS feeds, otherwise I’d be surfing all
the time.

Do you have a favourite? WHy?

One of my current favourite sites is what I’d call a blog if I didn’t
cringe at that word so much – it’s http://wellurban.blogspot.com. Tom Beard who writes it is passionate about Wellington, and he takes the time to
read council submissions and all those things I’d never bother doing,
and provides handy summaries, and he always finds new bars, shops and
restaurants for me to try.

I also love www.dooce.com because Heather writes in an easy, funny
way, but she also writes in great detail about her struggles with her
mental health, and she’s just an inspiration, even though that’s a
cheesey-as-fuck word to use.

and I love my friends’ sites because I like catching up with their
lives. And I like it when they write about me, of course.

Do you expect your online journal to take on a particular direction in the future that you haven’t yet established or are thinking about?

I want to write more stories about things that I did in the past -
like the Lost in Translation entry I wrote recently about moving to
Japan. I want to start writing my autobiography (yes I know, I’m 26,
I’m not that interesting and I haven’t really achieved anything, again
with the hubris), and so that’s what I’m keen to do.

How many times a week do you write in?

I used to write every day, but I also used to have a huge list of
people I could only talk to online that I’d spend hours chatting to
and write at the same time. I also used to be a student who didn’t
have bung wrists, so now I only update a couple of times a week. I
wish I wrote more.

For how long?

Entries take about an hour to write – more if there are pictures and
many links, but that’s an hour of much surfing at the same time.

Would you say this takes up a lot of your time? Does reading other blogs take up a lot of your time?

Yeah it does. But that’s okay.

Before email, were you big on writing letters? Or still are?

Only when I lived overseas. Now I wish I kept the letters I used to write.

Are you personal friends bloggers/online journalist or website owners? Family members?

I’ve always had online friends who were journallers (not journalists -
that’s like, media. Although I am trained in that too), and now it’s
weird, I have a group of friends who are so not into computers but
because of goddam myspace they’ve started keeping blogs. And boy are
they ugly…

What do they think of your new hobby?

Eight years isn’t a new thing. People used to think I was weird, but I
suppose at least the one thing I can thank the word ‘blog’ for is that
it’s mainstreamed me. Hang on, do I really want to be mainstream?

And do you consider it a hobby or something else entirely?

My job is writing website content, so writing online hones my job. And
one day I’d love to write a novel – or an autobiography, so maybe it’s
research for that. I just want to have a legacy, even if it’s a “I
watched Buffy all day and then laughed at some emos and got drunk”
legacy.

Ummm, sorry about the novella-length answers, I hope this helps!

Jo

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…But Perfectly Formed

February 3rd, 1999 — 12:04am

Wednesday 3; Febuary, 1999
I set my alarm for 10am today. And I even woke up then too – to change the alarm to 11 and go back to sleep. It’s nice to be back with bFM again, after Channel Z in Wellington went to hell (or shore/westieville Auckland Channel Z anyways). The dj was Daniel, who’s in my tutorial at AIT. So that was nice, a familiar voice, and some good tunes. I’d actually woken up at 5.30am again, ankles covered in bites, which is never cool, but had gone back to sleep.

Once I did finally manage to drag myself out of bed, I got clean and all that good stuff and jumped on a bus into Newmarket. I had to recharge the Mercury card (god it’s annoying that the post shop up the road can’t do it) and also, I’d realised the night before that it was only a week until my mother’s birthday. AND I had to set up automatic rent payments, although all three boys seem to be paying me in cash, and not the right amounts at that. God that sounds dodgy. Oh well.

So yeah, I did all that fun stuff at the bank, then I bought Mum some perfume and face stuff from the body shop. I think the perfume was called “Leaping” or something, and it’s really nice, so you can buy me some if you like. Then I found her a photo frame which I can put the photo below in.

anji has very nice breasts

Me, Anji and Karen. Feel free to admire her breasts. I do.

Speaking of breasts, a stranger sent me hers! Yay! So they’re up on the breast page. That was really exciting. PLUS yesterday, I got the whole Frozen Lake mess sorted out, so I’ve been acknowledged as an inspiration for a very similar story published on Reckoning.net. So that’s choice too.

Back at home, um, I didn’t do much. Tried to nap a little, only they were mowing the lawns next door. My bed still wasn’t delivered, but in anticipation of it, I created an advertisment and application form for it. Thanks to Annette cos I stole her code. Go ahead, share my bed.

hahahahah that’s traj, but oh well. I cooked dinner again (fuck, I’m such a good bitch) and Clayton was happy. Possibly he’s getting tired of vegetarian fare, but all the meat we have is sausages and chicken legs, both of which don’t rate highly on my list of things that are cool. He washed the dishes, and did it really badly. I hate people that use luke warm water. When I do them, I only use the hot tap – except in this house because the hot water is too hot, and I don’t know where to adjust it at. Honestly, I have to turn the shower dial to half way between ‘warm’ and ‘cold’. Did that make any sense?

I didn’t have much of a point to the above paragraph. In the evening, I discovered a show called ‘McCallum” starring John Hannah, (4 Weddings and Funeral, Sliding Doors), which, considering my fetish for accents

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Show & Tell

December 29th, 1998 — 10:27pm

Tuesday the 29th of December

So it’s come to this. I’ve gone so far with my self disclosure that I’ve got little left to tell that would shock. Instead, now I have to SHOW, instead of tell. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, go to my blahblah page. Mmmmm. I really don’t think Jo’s a good influence on me. In fact, my parents saw a photo of her with a cigarette in hand, and they TOLD me she was a bad influence. And I’m sure they know what’s best for me. Excuse me while I snicker.

I worked in the Potters Shop this morning, but since this is right after Xmas and still in governmental holidays, we weren’t anticipating huge retail rushes. Mum said she’d call me at 12.30pm to see how sales were going, and if no one had come in, then I could close up early. Well, what can I say? I’m sick, and I finished my (brilliant) book. I wanted to go home. I didn’t exactly SCOWL at all the customers that came in, but I really didn’t smile much either. And I doubt any of them were big fans of the Beastie Boys played a little loud either. I guess the flipside of being a very good sales person (look, there’s me blowing my own trumpet again) is that I know how to be a bad one as well.

Anyways, I got released and went to pick up my photos, which I’ll add in here and there as I feel is nessecary. Then Mum and I went for coffee at slotatl, to say hi to Anji mostly. In the evening, we rented A Life Less Ordinary. LOVE that movie. It’s probably in my top ten films ever. Also in it would be Spiceworld and Breaking the Waves – two completely opposite ends of the spectrum I know, but that just illustrates my depth (wank wank).

I’m so weirded out by my behaviours as of late. Honestly very disturbed. It’s fun being a little crazy. I’m just worried that I’m too willing to accept people’s dares. Ah well. Who needs shame anyways?

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Handwritten/A Real Sandwich

December 26th, 1998 — 10:28pm

I was baking in the temperature of my room when Mum came in at 12pm and asked if I was going to Anji’s or not. It gets so goddam hot with the sun coming in and all. Plus last night I’d pulled the heavy duvet over me too. Ah well. So anyways, I got up, showered, put my makeup on and all that good stuff. Mum dropped me off in town and I went straight into the moonlight lounge. The flat was deserted, but I found them all out the window, on the fire escape, basking in the sun and jealousy of passers by. It was only the flatmates there, having a champange breakfast to celebrate Anji’s (26th) birthday. It was soooooooooo hot in the sun, but so nice, with bubbly, fresh bread, humus and cheese, strawberries and melon. Mmmmmmmmmmm. We sat out for like, less than an hour, but it was the hottest time of the day, and the two glasses of bubbly made my head go all funny. Siobahn showed up and we eventually headed inside, thank god. I was practically falling asleep. Crazy Steph came too, and Louise, and umm. I think that’s about it. We all sat around drinking more, and most of the flatmates buggered off. I was lying on the bed in the lounge, and since Anji was dangling her legs in my face, I gave her a foot massage. Then I gave Steph one too, cos she asked. I’m such a good bitch.

I rang and rang and rang Jo all day long, but the biarch was geeking, so I couldn’t get ahold of her til like 3pm. Eventually though, she showed up, we did introductions, and with wine, she settled down to speedily win Anji and all her friends over. Siobhan might be moving to chch next year, so they exchanged numbers. I learnt faaaaar too much from Siobhan today – she was telling us all how big Aaron’s dick is. Apparently, his girth is similar to a 500ml 7up bottle. He chefs in the kitchen at Ate (8 Courtney Place) if you wanna find out for yourself.

So yeah. We gossed, and drank, and drank and ate chocolate and drank. Jo and I danced some, because we had to. We also rolled glitter all over ourselves, since Anji had given me rose-scented roll on glitter for xmas. And I took her up to see the gimp attic. She tried to suggest that people could live up there. Girlfriend, did you not feel the temperature? SOMEONE was OTP.

The lads showed up eventually, and everyone was going to go to town, but I felt kinda woozy – I guess that’s what the sun and the bubbles will do. Luckily, Jo said she didn’t feel too shit hot either, so we rang home and Daddio came to pick us up. I made pasta with sundried tomatos and creamcheese sauce to satisfy a carbohydrate and creamy craving. Then we went and played with my scanner. Mmmmmm. All I can say about that is that it’s all JO’S FAULT! Just be grateful I’m probably not gunna post the pictures.

Sitting outside while she had a cigarette, we decided to go and explore the bush behind my house (bush as in Native Forest, rather than a little shrub). Nevermind the fact that it was dark and stuff. So we booted up, and I changed outta my shiny skirt so that I was all comando like in black, grabbed us a fantastic torch and my camera, and headed off for our bush adventure. Did I tell you what the torch was? No? Well, it was THE ILLUMINATOR – as in “I am the illuminatoooor” (said in an Arnie voice). It’s funny, okay?

I haven’t been in the bush since I was like 12. We decided to stick to the path, since it was black and nighttime, and since the bush goes up a messy hill and all. So we followed the trail from across the troll bridge down further to where three concrete beams cross the stream again behind the Bretheren house. I never ever used to be scared walking across those – it’s only like an eight foot drop, but I guess I’ve lost the fearless agile attitude kids have. But that’s okay. I shuffled my way across in the torchlight. We used up all the photos left on my camera, so that’s good. Soon we’ll be able to make half of our adventure page. Back at home we netted for a bit, cos we are geeks after all, then I stuck her in the spare room upstairs – (poor thing probably had to hear my daddy snoring – he snores like a rutting wild boar – i can hear him from downstairs sometimes) and went to bed. I’m reading a book of short stories called Disco 2000 – I love it. It’s also sorta scary, thinking about the millennium and all. Like, I don’t buy into the end of the world theory – but I DO need to be at a happening party when it happens.

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Illumination

December 26th, 1998 — 2:03am

Saturday the 26th of December

I was baking in the temperature of my room when Mum came in at 12pm and asked if I was going to Anji’s or not. It gets so goddam hot with the sun coming in and all. Plus last night I’d pulled the heavy duvet over me too. Ah well. So anyways, I got up, showered, put my makeup on and all that good stuff. Mum dropped me off in town and I went straight into the moonlight lounge. The flat was deserted, but I found them all out the window, on the fire escape, basking in the sun and jealousy of passers by. It was only the flatmates there, having a champange breakfast to celebrate Anji’s (26th) birthday. It was soooooooooo hot in the sun, but so nice, with bubbly, fresh bread, humus and cheese, strawberries and melon. Mmmmmmmmmmm. We sat out for like, less than an hour, but it was the hottest time of the day, and the two glasses of bubbly made my head go all funny. Siobahn showed up and we eventually headed inside, thank god. I was practically falling asleep. Crazy Steph came too, and Louise, and umm. I think that’s about it. We all sat around drinking more, and most of the flatmates buggered off. I was lying on the bed in the lounge, and since Anji was dangling her legs in my face, I gave her a foot massage. Then I gave Steph one too, cos she asked. I’m such a good bitch.

I rang and rang and rang Jo all day long, but the biarch was geeking, so I couldn’t get ahold of her til like 3pm. Eventually though, she showed up, we did introductions, and with wine, she settled down to speedily win Anji and all her friends over. Siobhan might be moving to chch next year, so they exchanged numbers. I learnt faaaaar too much from Siobhan today – she was telling us all how big Aaron’s dick is. Apparently, his girth is similar to a 500ml 7up bottle. He chefs in the kitchen at Ate (8 Courtney Place) if you wanna find out for yourself.

So yeah. We gossed, and drank, and drank and ate chocolate and drank. Jo and I danced some, because we had to. We also rolled glitter all over ourselves, since Anji had given me rose-scented roll on glitter for xmas. And I took her up to see the gimp attic. She tried to suggest that people could live up there. Girlfriend, did you not feel the temperature? SOMEONE was OTP.

The lads showed up eventually, and everyone was going to go to town, but I felt kinda woozy – I guess that’s what the sun and the bubbles will do. Luckily, Jo said she didn’t feel too shit hot either, so we rang home and Daddio came to pick us up. I made pasta with sundried tomatos and creamcheese sauce to satisfy a carbohydrate and creamy craving. Then we went and played with my scanner. Mmmmmm. All I can say about that is that it’s all JO’S FAULT! Just be grateful I’m probably not gunna post the pictures.

Sitting outside while she had a cigarette, we decided to go and explore the bush behind my house (bush as in Native Forest, rather than a little shrub). Nevermind the fact that it was dark and stuff. So we booted up, and I changed outta my shiny skirt so that I was all comando like in black, grabbed us a fantastic torch and my camera, and headed off for our bush adventure. Did I tell you what the torch was? No? Well, it was THE ILLUMINATOR – as in “I am the illuminatoooor” (said in an Arnie voice). It’s funny, okay?

I haven’t been in the bush since I was like 12. We decided to stick to the path, since it was black and nighttime, and since the bush goes up a messy hill and all. So we followed the trail from across the troll bridge down further to where three concrete beams cross the stream again behind the Bretheren house. I never ever used to be scared walking across those – it’s only like an eight foot drop, but I guess I’ve lost the fearless agile attitude kids have. But that’s okay. I shuffled my way across in the torchlight. We used up all the photos left on my camera, so that’s good. Soon we’ll be able to make half of our adventure page. Back at home we netted for a bit, cos we are geeks after all, then I stuck her in the spare room upstairs – (poor thing probably had to hear my daddy snoring – he snores like a rutting wild boar – i can hear him from downstairs sometimes) and went to bed. I’m reading a book of short stories called Disco 2000 – I love it. It’s also sorta scary, thinking about the millenium and all. Like, I don’t buy into the end of the world theory – but I DO need to be at a happening party when it happens.

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