Hubris.co.nz

For Kate (Kate, do you have another name? There’s already too many damn Kates!) and Noizy and Llew, and for me, since this is all rattling around in my head right about now.

Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Envy and Pride. Which (if any) have you broken? Give examples.

Lust:
The example that first springs to mind when I hear this word could probably very well also fall under ‘wrath’, given the history involved, and how in that stall in the men’s room in a skanky goth bar I used to go out with the guy who was there with me, and also how I’d also fucked his wife who was banging on the door, so maybe I should wind the tape back to about four years before that, when I’d only pashed two boys, and I went to the movies for the first time with the gentleman in question. Just sitting next to him, our arms touching was so unbelieveably arousing that when I went to the bathroom and wiped, I was so wet that my hand slipped and I nearly punched the back of the toilet bowl. That was very unexpected for the girl that I was then.

I think it can sometimes also be hard to seperate lust from all the other things going on in my life, like needing other people’s approval to feel good about myself, or drinking too much, or needing to feel alive to combat antidepressants, or confusing love with sex, or having an overly developed sense of irony, or whatever. I suppose another example that would be appropriate here would be the first time that I hooked up with my stupid flatmate Ben III, and the following weeks. He wasn’t my type of guy – I mean, when I say he was stupid, he was stupid, but one night, he just smelt really really manly (read: sweaty) and the pheremonal connection was like “badoinga!”

On a slightly less disturbing note (I think), the character of Evan on The Secret Life of Us is so exactly my type that it hurts to watch the show cos I want to jump his bones so much.

Right now my head is full of pretty much nothing but lust. I haven’t had sex in a very very long time. Y’all didn’t think that I got OOS from working at a soul-destroying job with a really really bad computer set-up did you? Oh wait…

Gluttony:
This one is probably most apparent to everyone as something I have a problem with. The question then becomes “why is it a problem?” Quite frankly, I can’t imagine anything worse than being the type of person who would become obsessed with denying themselves the pleasures of food. To not know the joy of wine and cheese (CHEEEEEEEEEEEEEESE!), or fillet steak, or fresh baked bread with butter, or even dhal with fresh coriander on top or avocado on soy & linseed bread is just freaky. I use the last two as examples of how food can be goooood and good for you at the same time, but I suppose gluttony comes mostly in the form of ‘bad’ food. The thing is though, if you’re going to eat the ‘bad’ food anyway, then why hate yourself for it? Why not enjoy it? I would like to stop mentally beating myself up for it. I have accepted the fact that I am never going to be thin – I was born huge, for starters – so I would like to enjoy my life. At the same time, partly because I so often don’t enjoy my life, I’m more than a little nihilistic – like, if I’m going to get hit by another bout of crippling depression and decide that this time I can’t get through it, then why should I have skipped the cake? And please don’t start in on the whole “but exercise and healthy food can make you happier” crap, because I know that. That’s why I went vegan, and that was great for a while, although half of my enjoyment of that was a big “Fuck you, dairy and meat! I don’t need you anyways!” defiance that wore off. There’s so much cognitive dissonance going on in my head at all times that I could easily present a seminar on it in relation to the LTSA ads. Oh wait, I did that already…

And of course, gluttony doesn’t just apply to food, cos there’s drinking too. I like to drink. I will probably drink more than you will if we go out together. I like the taste of the things that I drink. I like the social aspect of it. I also like the feeling of confidence it gives me, which is not even about the wine anymore, it’s about me. If one bottle is good, two bottles is better. And while I have a few friends who don’t drink, and some friends who aren’t very in to food, I can’t help but feel a little uncomfortable around them if I was eating or drinking, because while I get it in my head, at heart I don’t understand why they’re not indulging in the pleasures.

Sloth:
Have you seen my couches? It took me a long time to find ones as big and comfortable as they are. I am happiest when I am lying down fully stretched out. I hope that when I am lying down on my couch I am in my pyjamas, and that it’s cold so I can have a duvet to snuggle under. I have no idea how people find enjoyment in tramping, or running. A leisurely walk in nice weather with an iPod and comfortable clothing might be okay, but I have bung-ass knees due to the gluttony section, and flat feet so long periods of walking are no fun. I like dancing, if the music and environment is right, but mostly if I go out I want comfy couches to sit on. Part of my perfect week off plan would involve a day spent watching many episodes of a favourite show on DVD. I <3 the Sloth. I feel no cognitive dissonance about it at all.

Wrath:
I’m a pretty angry person. I’d like not to be, but I’m really really not good at letting things go. Now, I’ve just been to look up the word, to try and figure out if being full of wrath makes you actually do things, because my only reference point here is 7ven, and I haven’t killed Kevin Spacey any time recently. Mostly my wrath consists of me not getting over things, and steaming about them for years and years. I have strict moral codes of things like the Two Year Rule, and if people break them, I get really really angry. I think more people should just suck it up and be miserable instead of hurting people. I am very very angry about people who hurt me and get to have their happy endings, because where the fuck is the justice in that?

Envy:
I am extremely guilty of envy. I envy people with pretty shiny possessions like houses, and DVD hard drives, and then I envy people without few possessions, who can pack up their lives in a matter of minutes. Mostly when I envy people I try to belittle them in some way – the phrase “skinny bitch” comes out of my mouth an awful lot, or when I see couples making out in public I’ll be like “get a room” when I am really thinking “I wish that was me”. I am envious of anyone who gets to hear someone tell them that they love them. I am envious of my friends who are having successful careers in areas that I want to work in. I am envious of people whose webpages get more hits than mine when they’re not even fucking real, Natalie. I am envious of people that I look down on for appearing to be happy with who they are. I am envious of people who seem to have taken the blue pill if we were going to go all Matrix comparison-y – is the blue pill the ignorance one? Well that’s the one I want. In a way, and this is disgusting to admit, I am envious of people with real identifiable trauma in their lives, and that’s something I spent a long time on when I was in counselling. I would like to be able to say “the reason that I am like this is because ___ happened”, and have it be all nice and easy like that. And if you think that I actually think that other people have lives that are all nice and easy, then you’re a dumbass. I’m well aware that the grass is always greener on the other side. It’s just that it’s often very hard to see what people would be envy about me.

Pride:
Hello, have you looked up the definition of ‘Hubris’ lately? This links in to the wondering what people would envy me for. Being well-educated, raised upper-middle class and given the opportunity to travel the world before I was ten and having parents I can rely on to back me up? Sure, that’s lucky, but I don’t know if it’s something that I can take pride in, because it’s not something that I’ve achieved – unless we go “yay little sperm, nice work on hitting that egg”. I would like to take pride in overcoming depression, having friends, being a good writer, but it just seems like those are all things that come naturally, or are things that I have no alternative but to achieve, so that seems dumb. But yes, I am condescending. I am snobby. I can cook well, and sometimes am capable of carrying out a good stimulating conversation. I used to take pride in giving really great head, but since the throwing up on someone’s cock whoopsie, my confidence in that area has been shattered. I would like to think that Hubris the site is really interesting, and I’m proud of that, but it’s not like I’ve got a book deal or anything. So meh. Perhaps pride is my least sinny of the sins. Rock on.

I’m not going to tag anyone – when you presume that people want to do things, you make a press out of you and me! – but please feel free to riff off your own if you like.

EDIT: whoops, I forgot
Greed:
I think this is pretty much covered by all the other ones, isn’t it? I’ll just go with the Hole quote to sum this one up, cos I’ve already wasted too much time: “I want to be the girl with the most cake”. Chur. But actually no, let me change that to say that I’m well happy to pay as much tax as I do, because I want to live in a world where the people who aren’t as well off as I am can still have things like oh you know, housing and healthcare and education…

Friday June 7th

Morning is a mad dash to the supermarket with Bopha to get there and back in time for me to get changed and go to work,and I end up being ten minutes late, but it’s not like they’re really keeping time anyways, or so it seems. There’s a lamington waiting on my desk when I get there, sprinkled with baby m&ms and with a chopstick stuck in it, and as soon as I walk in, Skew and Terri are like “Happy birthday” and I’m like “thanks, who’s birthday is it?” and they’re like “yours” and I’m like “no” but it was really sweet anywyas, and apparently we’re gonna have a drinkathon on my birthday. That kicks ass! I can’t imagine any other workplace doing that. Oh yeah, at Foodstuffs, they laid on morning tea – biscuits and buttered muffins when they all knew I was vegan. Choice. But anyways, work is fun, and at three pm, Terri and I go for a 10 minute walk to the graphic designer’s office (the people I work for have buildings ALL OVER town – we 0wn Auckland) and that was fun too. She’s choice, I like her, and I will miss her when she is gone. Also she said today to someone else that I’m being groomed for her role, so that could be interesting.

Afternoon/evening is meant to be going down to Deschlers to meet up with the lovely Annabel but Bopa made me smoke a spliff with her so I couldn’t actually leave the house, so instead Annabel and later Arch came here. They were cool, and I invited them to my birthday party and she was like “oooh maybe the HJT could play” and I was like !!!! and then I giggled lots cos I have silly rock star crushes. Fuck, was I supposed to be writing present tense? I think it’s like, 5am or something, so fuck you and your grammar rules. Anyways, so there’s martinis martinis martinis and Bopha’s friends are over and they’re loud and shit so I go to my room, and KateM comes over and we drink and gossip and giggle, as girls do, for ages and ages and ages. Eventually we go down to Deschlers where we find Andy all by himself so we chat to him for quillions of years before Nigel & Jarrod show up. Razza is behind the bar, so that’s flashback to auldskool days, and the thousands of hours and cocktails and thighgropings consumed at Deschlers. Eventually we manage to grab ourselves a booth, and KateM holds me down and covers my mouth so I can’t scream when they get Andy to start smoking. And then there’s text messages and cellphone calls, and suddenly, I have Other Things To Do, with lots and lots of capital letters and a fair amount of injokeness, and I’m trekking up to K’Road by myself and by golly it’s cold. But it’s okay, because it’s wonderful and lovely, and yeah, but now I’m home again, cos you know what I’m like. But cool.

Sleep in til late then walk around the house in crisp navy sheet, as opposed to semi-soggy light blue sheets, and eat brie and fresh breadlike I never do in Auckland and listn to Anji and Mum snipe at each other which is pretty wearisome until I go and take drowning showers and then Anji and I do the supermarket shopping and probably save our parents hundreds of dollars by buying cheaper brands, despite the shampoo and stuff we throw in the cart as well. We were even so good that we didn’t throw batteries in amongst it all. Rah rah rah. Yet despite it all, I still had to eat meat and potato and vege for dinner. I’m used to vege vege vege and rice. Do they really have to use that much vegetable oil/add that much dairy fat? No, no they don’t! But they still do, ick!

Evening was the usual grab a couple’o cheap bottles from their racks adn ask someone to drive me to Ayna’s. She’s got a new flatmate so it was reaaaaaaaaal weird walking in – the place was tidy adn there was HOUSE music playing! Crazy. But yeah blah blah blah rah rah rah Ayna and Daniel and Katy and Brad and then it turns out Brad was engaged to Katy the whlole time he was engaged to me so we slapped him lots and were dancing and dancing and dancing adn there was some hiphop thing somewhere thtat we walked to, but I’m not really sure where – did it used to be the Fat Cat cafe? And yeah rah rah sleepy so I went home an my cab driver said PR was bullshit and I was sure I had him in 95/96 when i first fell in love and so he was laughing at me and yeah and telling me about how good the sixties were and fuck i’m tired, bed and smothered noises for me! xojo.

Monday March 25th, 2002

I know I’m supposed to be writing my essay right now. Why do you think I’m tidying my room and throwing out old junk and singing Beth Orton too loud and doing laundry I haven’t done in weeks and contemplating what I’ll do while I’m in Wellington and rereading No Logo (although that’s kinda related to my essay) and going through & deleting the 198 remaining emails in my hotmail inbox and wondering if I should change my sheets?

So he says “it was lovely having lunch with you” and I say “yeah, and now you’ve given me my stuff back I can finally stop bugging you!” and he says “well, if you want to”. And that’s not at all what I want, but it’s what I think is probably the best decision, because there’s nothing quite as pathetic as a girl blindly chasing after a boy she fancies who isn’t interested in her. (And KateB, I know what you’re going to say right now, and believe me, I’ve said it to myself).

I watched the whole of the Oscars ceremony today, on Sky Digital, but in black&white because of our dodgy widescreen TV. I cheered every time LOR got something, obviously. I’m a good kiwi. Clay and I made witty commentary through it which Ben of course couldn’t keep up with. I hope i hope I hope that Bopa can get it together. But having said that, I’ve no doubt jinxed it. I knocked on wood, maybe that’ll counteract it.

OD you remember a couple of years ago I was reading No Logo and I put all these references to in into my journal? Well yeah, I was so cool before everyone else. I am a trend setter rather than a mainstream buyer. My head is so full of marketing lingo these days. I can’t wait for my essay to be over, although I do keep thinking of other wonderful examples to throw in. Examples are worth 20%, and the reference list is worth 20%, and so I figure I can probably get most of that. Presentation being 10% of the total, I can probably do okay on (apparently he marks it really hard though) and then I only have to worry about getting half out of the 50% for actual argument. So it all works out nicely, right? And besides, it’s not due til Thursday,so maybe I’ll get more done by then. Just in case any of you feel like writing it for me, the topic is “Discuss how an understanding of the dimensions of branding should enhance the effective intergration of marketing communication in an organisation”. (And if you’re scratching your head over the very question, then you’re in teh same boat as me).

I’m missing Shortland Street right now becasue I really feel like I should be working. I might go and heat up some eggplant and pumpkin curry and then scurry back to my room to go over my notes and read more and stuff. Plus maybe people are trying to call and love me, so I should probably get offline so that they can. But meh, sounds like so much effort!

There’s a competition on Channel Z right now where you either win a trip to London to see New Order play, or you have to have a colonic irrigation. I really should have entered, because man, with those stipulations, everyone’s a winner!

You know, if you stick a ‘w’ in between the ‘A’ and the ‘HREF’, your links stop being links.

Monday April 9th, 2001

My ISP is being a gimp. Gimp isp, gimp! I reckon Lou’s bosses should ensure that she has dsl at home, but apparently they have other priorities. Sheesh!

Today was all about working very hard scripting. That’s not computer scripting, oh no. Well, it kinda was, cos I had to format my CBT script so that it’ll work properly in Scala. Scala is dumb.

I listened to “My Body the Handgrenade” at work today, which is like a collection of b-sides and rarities by Hole, and it made so much more sense now after that biography of Courtney Love that I read. Listening to it, I felt like the BDO 99 was just yesterday, that somehow I managed to skip the past two years, which wouldn’t necessarily be such a bad thing, although I wouldn’t be who I am today. I feel very old – “Smells Like Teen Spirit” which is unquestionable the most important song to people in my generation came out TEN YEARS ago. TEN! Wow.

I’ve made an appointment to go and see Dr. White tomorrow and get my smear, and get a full STD screen (I don’t think I have anything, I just want to be 100% certain) and talk to her about my nutrition and stuff. Fun fun. Also today I’ve been coughing a dry shallow pathetic cough, so maybe she can see to that too.

Last night I traumatised Leigh by pasting bits out of a story I wrote when I was 15 to him – “Angela felt his hands slide up and down her back. She had to clutch at his shoulders, thinking of a line from Gone With the Wind – “Now I know why men put their arms around a woman when they kiss them; it’s so they don’t faint”. She was walking on air.” True story too. I just wrote it in the third person to get a new perspective, according to my diary at the time. Though what wisdom I’d learn from “Angela was leaning on him more and more. Then he spoke. “We’re lying on a flower pot,” he said regretfully” is beyond me. Still, five years from now, I’ll probably look back on what I’m writing these days and scoff.

Oh for fucks sake, how hard is it to get a line into the Net???

I feel good today because I just had a really nice long bath. I put my legs up in the air and fully submerged my head. I love the sound of being underwater. I also feel good cos I told Clay and Louise that I wanted to do separate food from them (and phrased it a little more diplomatically than “I’m tired of subsidising your animal products and your girlfriend”)

OH! I also got a pay cheque today, and that was very very nice.

AND! I was in Mt Eden for lunch, and I walked past one place after inspecting the menu, and this guy came out, and he was like “don’t you strut away from me” and I was thinking “sheesh, overboard waiter!” but it was my friend Derek, who I haven’t seen in like a year, so that was very cool. He was like “wow girl, look at you – whatever happened to the flower skirts?” which made me blush and smile. He’s doing advertising with Kate B this year, which means I can get her to slip him notes. Wahoo. And then when I was eating my lunch which was Malaysian noodles, Kate M rang me on my cellularmaphone and said she was in Mt Eden also, so we met up. She was a little scared and felt like she didn’t know what she was doing – I tried pointing out many times that it was only her first day.

The company I work for shouted morning tea for all 400 of us on campus today for going 100 days without an accident.

you see, the ting is…