Hubris.co.nz

I appreciate that once again, it has been forever since I last wrote. So I suppose that there are a number of things that I should talk about. Like:

1. Webstock
2. Kat & Kane
3. An assortment of things
4. Pretty Pretty Pretty
5. Why I hate having crushes on people, or words to that effect.

I wrote on my professional site about what I learned at Webstock, and I wrote a lengthy thank-you for the Midnight Note site which might get posted at some stage, so at this stage, I can now talk about all the gossip behind the scenes in a non-professional way. Which means talking about ice cream. And how at the pre-webstock tweetup that I organised there were three people I’d fucked, and a couple of others I’d pashed. And how Starla Jo was all “oh, thank you so much for your tweets on New Year’s” and I was like “….huh?” and she was like “You wished me and Thomas another ten years of happiness” and I was like “oh, good for me!” No recollection of that at all but that’s the first time that I’ve ever been told about drunk tweets that were nice, so good for me. And how the whole shebang was dedicated to Darren and Amanda who were getting married the next day, and how they met at my Halloween party, and how if you ever want to get married, I should get a crush on you and someone of the opposite sex at the same time, cos it’s happened yet another time since I ran away from Auckland at the end of 2003.

Oh, in hilarious webstock gossip, on the Thursday night, I got this email:

I said I’d look for you and introduce myself, but once I saw you I
decided not to. You are too gorgeous.

I mean, if you hadn’t been twittering about orgasms I *so* would have
come over and flirted, but I knew as soon as I spotted you I’d be
spending the entire night trying to get into your pants rather than
actually listening to what you have to say. And I didn’t think that
would be cool.

So, next time, when I’m not already thinking about sex, I will say
hello and tell you how wonderful I find your writing (I *adore*
sex-positive women), and then if there’s some flirting or geek talk or
strip clubs I’ll be happy to participate.

Ummm, what? It’s a very strange thing when people feel like they know me from reading my twitter stream, or reading Hubris, because duh, they don’t know Joanna at all, just Jo Hubris’s posturings. I might appear to be open about my life but I don’t feel like I’m asking for emails like that from people I don’t know. But enough about that for now.

Obviously Webstock was all kinds of awesome, as I had expected it to be. I was sitting with Julie, and she was like “wow, talking to you is like hanging out with the Mean Girls” and I was like “it’s so fetch, right?” but honestly, if it looks like a whore and walks like a whore, then what are you supposed to say? (Reason number six thousand and twenty to hate the guy: he made me deal by turning into a bad feminist). That aside, it was lovely to catch up with so many people who I only get to see once a year at Webstock and to absorb all the awesomeness, and to watch people using the Webstock Bingo and Webstocklove channels that I set up. I sent out plenty of messages myself due to a million and five geek crushes. Why are all the good ones (and bad ones) married?

After the official bubbles & beats, we went up to Mighty Mighty for more drinks because people said that Kevin Rose was going to be there, and who doesn’t want to marry a millionaire? Someone had stickers and they thought we should write our names on them, but since we were already all wearing nametags, I gave people other names. We got a Rod Drury, and a Kevin Rose, and a Mark Zuckerberg and a Tom from Myspace before I started to run out of names. Later at the other end of the bar, I got in a conversation with Lisa Herrod who’d spoken earlier that day about accessibility, and was super stoked when she tweeted later that she’d hire me in a second if I lived in Sydney (and if she was hiring). It was really awesome to be reminded that I do actually know what I’m talking about sometimes. And in that vein, her husband Lachlan who had also spoken but I hadn’t seen his talk except for the end where he mentioned Waferbaby (who you might remember from Melbourne 2001, if those entries were actually online, but they don’t appear to be. Odd. But to summarise I met him when I was staying with 0 at Nirvana), ordered a castlepoint, so I told him that it was one of the top five drinks in town, and later on twitter mapped out a path as to how he could have the other four in one day. In fact, we were supposed to go get margaritas for breakfast at 8am on the Friday, but I decided to get one more hour of sleep. I was very impressed that he went though!

On Friday night after more Webstock awesomeness was the ONYAs. I borrowed a dress from Megan that I felt gorgeous in, and after some reshufflings I spent the evening telling gossip to a nice woman from Australia that actually may have been a little terrifying because I had a lot of it to tell and there was also a lot of wine. Then there was an amazing light show. Then we went to the Malthouse and people from Silverstripe were so drunk that I thought that they were speaking Norwegian, and other people were so drunk that they fell over, and really, I felt quite sober comparatively. I got to talk about Mad Men with Peter lots. And I got home sometime after 4am after dallying with that nice girl from last year who went to the bathroom and never came back. Webstock is awesome. I should have written about it a lot sooner and also not today when I’m in a really sulky mood.

In fact, I’m so sulky that I’m not going to finish this entry. Night kids, let’s hope something goes my way in the next couple of days or so, yes? Please?

Tom has recently contemplated whether or not there is still intellectual discussion going on in Wellington, so I thought I would prove for once and for all that there totally is. Therefore, for your benefit, let me present to you my Friday and Saturday night conversations –

Friday

Saturday

I think I have successfully defended this city’s intellectual reputation. Hell yeah.

Do you know what else I should have done to defend this city? Punched Kerry Prendegast on Friday night. But I didn’t. That fucking bitch was sitting at OUR table at Boulot, by which I of course don’t mean with us, but rather in the spot in which we’d usually sit. Who the hell does she think she is?

Then the hot owner stalked me and Lisa down to Bodega where we were stalking her workmates and their bandmates having left my workmates who were all “oh early night”. I asked for a Main Divide Cabernet Merlot and the bartender searched the fridge for it, so therefore I don’t feel bad about making them stay open cos we sat around until way late. Then Lisa made me popcorn and showed me America’s Next Top Model because she’s awesome like that. And then I stayed up til 5am watching Freaks and Geeks and being a spazz.

Saturday morning I spent texting people to invite them to China @ The Country Club, and adding in grilled eggplant to frozen lasange and extra mozarella. Yuuuuuuuuum. Yay for frozen home-cooked goodness, and a double yay for the fact that I now have a full length freezer so that I might actually be able to fit in a loaf of bread even if the boys have been shopping. I didn’t think I’d go out that night, but then Kartini texted me to say that she was going to Atomic, so I had my arm twisted. The bus was late and full of drunken kids, and it was raining, and we had to walk a long way from Katy’s to Helen’s and my belly was full of pina colada, and oh the pain, but the conversation was great. Katy and Helen are both in Real Hot Bitches, so they busted out a couple of routines to ‘Pour Some Sugar on Me’ and umm oh I can’t remember now, and it was fantastic. I wish I could learn dance moves more easily than I do.

Atomic was sort of lame. It was full of dicks and ex arch nemisisisis, and I just wasn’t feeling it. I don’t think I’ll bother going again. It’s always the same songs, and the same tricks, and the same song orders, but it was nice to be with the KKK. Lynchings are always fun. My feet hurt today mostly from dancing at Helen’s, but I still mananged to do the big weekly clean and laundry and all. I’m such a homebody. And my head is like clicking into two points of view every half hour, it’s ridiculous. But kind of amusing. I don’t need to go into it any further. And to further add to the mix is the email that I received on Friday that made me run to the bathroom to bang my fists on the wall and howl very quietly. Oh the drama that I make for myself.

Man I’m looking forward to the short week. China is at 5pm on Friday cos Katy’s having a cocktail party that night. I look forward to seeing you there okay? Oh and anyone got any tips for excellent Chinese movies? It doesn’t have to be porny, but it could be, that’d be fine…

Tom at Wellurban has posted somewhat of a challenge by naming every bar in centralish Wellington. While he proposes having a glass of wine in each one, I figure I’d count buying anything there, and so here’s my list, crossed off as I get there:

Arbitrageur, Arizona, Atlanta, The Backbencher, Ballroom, Basement, Beau Monde, Beaujolais, The Big Kumara, Bisque On Bolton, The Black Harp, Blend, Blondini’s, Blue Note, Bodega, Bohdans, Boogie Wonderland, Boulcott St Bistro, Boulot, Bouquet Garni, Brewery Bar, The Bristol Hotel, Brix, Bull & Bear, Cabaret, Calzone, Cambridge Hotel, Capitol, Caucus, Chameleon, Chicago , Chow, Club K, Concrete, Confidential, Copita, Courtenay Arms, Coyote, Cue Room, Curve Bar, Dockside, The Dog & Bone, Dojo, Downtown Local, The Dubliner, East West, Eclipse, Endup, The Establishment, The Feathers, Ferrymans, Floriditas, The Flying Burrito Brothers, The Front Room, Gibbon’s Bar, GoGo, Good Luck, Green Room, The Grill at Duxton Hotel, Happy, Harem, Havana, Hog’s Breath, Hope Bros, Hotel Bristol, Hotel Willis Lodge, Hugos, Hummingbird, Il Casino Piano Bar, Imbibe, Indigo, J’Aime Bordeaux, Jet, The Jimmy, JJ Murphy’s, Juniper, Kazu, Kitty O’Shea’s, The Lab, The Lab Underground Bar, The Last Supper Club, Latino’s, Leuven, Liquidate, The Loaded Hog, Logan Brown, Lone Star, Lone Star Lounge, Lovelocks, Lumiere, The Malthouse, Matterhorn, Maya, Medina, Mercury Lounge, Mezzaluna, Milk, Mini Bar, Mixjah, Mojo Invincible, Molly Malones, Monkey Bar, Monsoon Poon, Morocco, Motel Bar, Neat, Occidental, One Red Dog (Blair St), One Red Dog (Kumutoto), Paradiso Bar, The Pit, Play, Pod, Ponderosa, Pound, Pravda, The Quarter, Rain, Red Square, Restaurant 88, Rouge, Sandwiches, Seam, The Shack, Shed 5, Shooters, Sojourn, Southern Cross, Sovereign, The Speight’s Ale House, Stadium Bar, Stage, Stellar, Subnine, The Syn Bar, Taste of Korea, The Tasting Room, The Old Bank, The Thistle Inn, Toast, Trax, Tupelo, UU, Valve, Vespa Lounge, Vivo, Wasabi Sushi, Wellington Sports Cafe, Welsh Dragon Bar, West Plaza Hotel, The White Room, Zibibbo

Let’s start out here with some honesty: I am drunk. Like, really drunk. Like, I have to close one eye to focus. It’s not my fault. We were sitting on the Courtenay Place edge of our building and they were all yelling at Jane Yee! and I was like, it’s my fault she journals, and now my glasses are too steamy to write, anddddddddddddddd um, I forget the point, except for HI JANE. Nice dress.

THere was another girl in a low cut red dress, but we were two stories up, and I wasn’t wearing my glasses, and I could still count her rib bones up by her collar bone so really, so not hott. And there were ladies with bad shoes, or a bad colour, or what looked like bridesmaid dresses, or whathaveyou, but like, the celebrities were coming up on Allan, and we were all sitting overlooking Blair, which is where the people with tickets but not fame were coming up.

Ha ha, if I was more sober, I would talk to you ab0ut all the things that I have wanted to mention, like dinner at Floridita’s, which was kickass, or the drinks with people from Wellington who like to drink, and that was great, andI ended up at bars that I hadn’t been places befoer, called Morocco (and yes, that’s right, I will drop my tenses, and that’s fine), and that was nice, and that’s all. I forget my point. There was a lot of politics. Also! There were many (two) earthquakes. Earthquakes are SCARY! I ran to the doorway and cowered in there for a while. Seb was outside, but I bet he’d be all “blah blah, whatevs” cos he is pretty cool.

So many balconies, so much sunshine. Thhis is whatI just msged Lisa with:

Work is SO HOT. So many fans. So much packing up of boxes. I didn’t go to the gym today, and I should have. Monday and Tuesday is not enough Getting high off the heat of exercise is quite amusing though. Today, out on one of the side balconeys, cos we are not clients so we are not good enough, I was using the word ‘moist’, and people around me were like “Omg so not right” but like, I was totally in the right. Ddi mention the ( BYO) liquor? Or the too-much touching of workmates? Or the ha ha Hot-ness? Ha ha, no, I didn’t. So I suppose I shan’t.

And this is what I said since I got home:

Lisa says:
you sat in the sun and drank bubbly near arguing directors on a balconey in the central city and you love A because he makes you think of penises and lambs
Jo Hubris says:
lamb s?
Lisa says:
lambs are cute
Jo Hubris says:
what else?
Lisa says:
it was like an episode of lost that you had to twop and then you got to see murray’s b/f having sibling sex?

To understand that ,you must get that Ian Sommerhalder (SP?) is MurrayN’s fantasy b/f. If you don’t get that, then oh well. I forget my point.

Jo Hubris says:
what else did I ell youZ?
Lisa says:
that ………………………………………………………………………………***
Jo Hubris says:
noooooooooo
Jo Hubris says:
for the gernal public
Jo Hubris says:
what’d I say?
Lisa says:
that you were all blah blah blah like joan rivers if she was relevant
Jo Hubris says:
haahhhaa
Jo Hubris says:
that was me

Let’s post this and move on, okay?

All good things come to an end sometime. I’ve lived in Auckland almost six years now, which is the longest I’ve ever lived anywhere, but come next Saturday, I’m moving back to Wellington. I can’t take it anymore. I’m just too tired of having to look after myself. I know that’s what grownups are supposed to do, but I need a fucking break. I’m lucky enough that my parents will accept me back with open arms so I’m going to take that opportunity and hopefully keep some portion of my sanity.

It’s funny cos tomorrow when I will call the land lady to give her three weeks notice, it will be exactly a year since we moved in here.

So yeah. That’s me. Of course, to the people in the Internet world, it won’t make any difference since I’ll still be online. Chances are to the people up here it won’t make much difference either. <!– I’m going to go back to Welly where I feel like people really do have my back. –>

Oh my god, one of Dana’s friends has her kids around, and they’re crazy. It’s been a long time since I nannied. Maybe I oughta see if I can babysit when I get back to welly. But oh my god, the kids I used to babysit for will all be in high school by now almost. SCARY! I’m tired of growing old. I can’t wait to go home.

Before then I will have to 1) get rid of my car 2) get rid of excess furniture 3) pack up all my stuff and put it into storage up here 4) pay off bills 5) say goodbye to anyone who cares, 6) cancel the electricity, washing machine, telephone etc etc. Thank the lord my mummy is coming up on Tuesday to help me with it. I’m going to fly back with Sebastian on the 20th, when I already have a flight booked, then come back up on the 27th to clean and resolve anything that’s left unresolved, spend New Years hopefully with Thomas and Jo, and then go back and yeah.

The Abstract:
You may or may not have noticed that I haven’t updated Hubris in quite a very long time, and normally that’s a sign that I’ve sunk into the big D again. In this case, that’s not the case. I’ve just been incredibly busy. First there was a bit of a sexplosion, and then there was putting out a whole issue by myself, and then another whole issue by myself in half the time, and then there was a trip to Wellington and the Hawkes Bay. Oh, and due to the Sexplosion, there was an underlying current of fear, with my period being three weeks late, broken condoms and not being sure who the father was. I’m back now, and things have calmed down a little, hence this update .

The Fuller Schbobble:
Well! Where do we start? When I last updated, we were going to have the Meet Market party and I was inviting you all. None of you showed. How rude. This led to me shagging one of Lance’s young friends, because Lance made the deliberate mistake of leaving us alone together very late at night adn I was bored of talking to the guy about how miserable he was without his girlfriend. I thought he needed some cheering up. I think it worked. He said “I’ve never had it like that before”. I laughed lots. In the morning, he asked me for my cellphone number. I was like “What? Why?” and then instantly felt mean. Lance has managed to refrain from hassling him since. The boy comes into the office sometimes to buy bus tickets but avoids looking in my direction, poor wee thing.

Later that week, I had a drink with a boy who, let’s face it, I’ve had a thing for ever since I realised that running away while he was sleeping was the stupidest thing I did last year. He was absolutely lovely, and we were getting on so damn well, swapping life stories and talking about how much we hated ‘Sex in the City’ and how totally empowering it wasn’t, and he said that sometimes you sleep with people just because you want to, and I said that sometimes you sleep with people because they give you the dirtiest sexiest look you ever received in your whole life “which is why I went home with you” and he laughed. I told him that I wished that I’d got to know him last year. Eventually he had to go, but he asked if I wanted to hang out later that night, and suggested that he should come over to my house and bring a bottle of wine. I think my jaw just about dropped off, and then when he kissed me outside the pub on Ponsonby Road, my knees went woozy. Luckily KateH picked me up then, otherwise I would have been wandering around all dazed for a couple more hours, no doubt. He came over a couple of hours later, and well, I was two hours late for work the next day. It was lovely, so much more intimate than the last time – I guess because this time I fancied him, and wasn’t in love with someone else/terrified of being hurt again, and because well, I think he’d learnt a whole lot about foreplay in the past year. I called him delicious and beautiful and both things were applicable, in the slightly more metaphorical sense of the word for ‘Delicious’. He called me a star, and now he has left the country. Sigh. I’m sure that in a parallel dimension, we have our timing right and everything is blissful. Damn you Parallel Dimension Joanna! Why do you get all the good things?

Of course, then my period was late. And later. And later. And then I found a broken condom under the bed. I was incredibly freaked out and spent an hour sitting on the floor at work semi under my desk crying. The lady at the health clinic here at work said that a test wouldn’t be accurate for like, three weeks after the event, but I went and bought the cheapest test in the supermarket anyways. When it came out negative, I got drunk. A week later I did another test, and it was still negative. I alternated between thinking about abortion and thinking about raising the baby. Of course, I didn’t know if it was Andrew’s or Ben’s, but I thought there was more of a chance of it being Ben’s, which is what I would have prefered, but I didn’t want to mess up the life of either of them, and I was all like “arrrgh” until eventually I decided that yes, I actually would be able to deal just fine with having a baby, and I could work from home four days a week and come in for one, but finally when I got to Wellington and managed to unstress about work, I got my bleed. And it hasn’t stopped since.

So yes, that was the sex. When I got to Wellington a week and a bit ago, Mum asked me about my sex life, so I told her, asking her to please not tell Anji that I gave my ex boyfriend a blowjob in the bathroom at Submission, because I’d get a fearsome telling off. Mum said “At least someone has morals”. Later, when we were getting our family portraits, she said to me “oh they told me that you don’t need to wear more makeup than usual for the photos”. I was like “umm, this is what I wear every day”. Mothers eh? Bless. If she doesn’t want to KNOW, she shouldn’t ASK. That’s all.

I also caught up with KateB in Welly which was lovely and made me feel more like a real person again. I think she’s doing really well, and has found something that suits her much better. I do worry though that her b/f doesn’t like pirate jokes. Other Welly things were finally getting some sleep, doing more reviews for the magazine which I’d rushed to finish all in one week instead of the usual two, and Oma taking us out to Logan Brown, which was amaaaaaaaazing food, and the most professional service I’ve had in a very long time. Exquisite. And not cheap at all.

Then on last Tuesday, Karen and I drove up to Napier. It was a pleasant journey, mostly. We found a nice enough backpackers to stay in – its failing was that there were no windows in the room, which made it very spooky to be called on your cellphone when the lights were off and you had no idea what the time was and wondered why the fuck your work was calling you in the middle of the night when it was actually 8.46am. Napier itself was very nice. We wandered around places and found a lovely bar called The UltraLounge. My Pina Colada had no taste at all, so I tried to explain that as nicely as I could to the barman and he made me an orgasmically good Mango Daquiri instead. We had seconds. Then I squirmed in discomfort as a loud British wanker ate all his sashimi and then complained about it. I hope I wasn’t like that man.

On the Wednesday, we went with The Grape Escape and got driven to some wineyards. Seven in fact – apparently this makes us legends, because that was in four hours, including lunch with The Best Cheese in the World at the Sileni Estate. The usual is four or five. We stayed another night in Napier, and went to Havelock North the next day, and also I made Karen go to Ocean Beach with me. It was fun. I frolicked in the sand. That night we stayed in Hastings at a Carnie backpackers and opened Macademia nuts with a big rock. I managed to buy four bottles of wine – a Trinity Hills Pinot Noir, a Mission Estate Reisling, a Brooklands Deco Chardonnay and a Te Mata Estate Rose as well as a bottle of Sour Apple Schnapps from Prenzels. No wonder the phone line got cut off back in Auckland. The guy at Brooklands was teh best, telling us long stories. Was it Brooklands? I hope it was. I will check my wine when I get back. Other people were too wanky or busy or what have you. Prenzels is the best because you can try whatever you want and I wanted to try everything. Mmmmmmmmm.

Now I am back in Auckland of course, and work is not as hectic as it has been, which is nice. I’m sad that Issue 10′s cover was lacking in our actual coverstories and that my Pacifier story didn’t get a title, but that’s my fault for not leaving clearer instructions for Designer Brad. Tomorrow I have schedualed an appointment with myself to sit down and discuss what I want to submit for the media awards. One of these days I’ll actually do the accounts for advertising sales too, but the girl who does all our invoicing said (in exchange for me scanning photos for her) “Please don’t do them until I’m ready for them”. Yay her. I’m going to Wellington again in less than two weeks for the ASPA conference. Excellent. And what else? Blah stuff, nothing too important.

We have a new flatmate in the very charming shape of Will, an American friend of Megan’s. We still need one more though.

I’m sure I’ve forgotten to say things, but really, this has gone on for hours now, so I might stop this entry here for now.

Well well well. So now it’s the 4th of January, according to my computer clock, although my computer has just had 435 infected files wiped off it (even McAfee was infected) and $200 of repairing done, so I’m not entirely sure if I can trust it. Then again, it’s Saturday today, and I start back at work on Monday, which is the 6th, so I guess it must be right.

Right now I am waiting for the AA to come and jumpstart my car. Godbless one month grace periods when you’ve forgotten to pay for your membership. Once I have my car started, and assuming that I don’t have to take it for a long drive on the motorway, I am going to go and try to spend $200 upgrading my wardrobe for my new job, which I start on the 20th of January. I am very excited.

What other things are there that I should mention? Oh yeah, I guess I should talk about the past couple’o weeks. Well. I think when I last wrote I had just moved into my new house? Let me go check. Yes, that’s right. Then I had my work Xmas party, and a couple’o days later I flew down to Wellington. And got sick. So very very sick. I had huge big elephant testicles in my throat and a temperature of 38.5 when Mummy took me to the doctor on Christmas Eve. He took some blood to see if I had glandular fever because my neck was so swollen (“What about if I touch here?” “OWWWWWWWWWWWW”). I cried lots – not at the bloodtaking, but at the being so very fucking sick, and being unable to eat, or hardly drink, and unable to enjoy the company of the Hot German Girls (friends of Ammy’s) who I had found on the street and willingly taken in.

Christmas Day itself was pretty much a blur because I tried to sleep through most of it in order to get better and to also escape family strife. Needless to say, after suffering two hour traffic holdup on the way to Oma’s in Paraparaumu, as a family we pledged that next Christmas will be spent AT HOME and if any relies want to see us they can bloody well come to our house themselves. I got books books books, and stripey socks, and a ticket to the BDO, and money for a new cellphone (yay!) and ummm other stuff, all of which was very cool. But I couldn’t eat Xmas goodies, or drink or even eat chocolate mousse cos the liquor made my inflamed gums burn. OH THE HUMANITY! And while the penicillin made my throat get better, my gums got worse and worse, so finally I went to the dentist on the 27th of December.

So one of the things that we talked about last night in the so many hours of conversation that my throat was sore this morning about how it’s so much easier to write when you’re unhappy because when you’re joyous you wanna hold it all to yourself and just smile over it, and so I’m going to make an effort to share my glee with the world. Although of course, in that case maybe i should play something other than the Cure, but that’d mean like, Brian Adams or something – my parents have an awful lot of cds, but very few good ones, since Mum seems to have hidden all her NZ music.

But here’s where we’re at. There is a mouse running around in ym bedroom in Auckland, which meant I slept on the couch on Tuesday night, restlessly, having weird codeine spiked dreams. I shrieked at the mouse, and wanted to jump up on a chair. When I rang Tom for reassurance he said I sounded the most feminine that i ever had. And now of course, my landlord’s phoneline doesn’t work, and her cellphone is out of range, so I am not a happy camper at all! Or at least, I wouldn’t be, if i was still in Auckland. But as it happens, I am in Wellington, with a big stupid grin on my face. So there.

Oh for fucks sake Tom, is there anyone you DON’T know? Stop trying to be Kate Hamlin. Or Justin, I guess this case is, kinda.

Where was I? Oh, Bo and I struggling with my suitcase up to behind the Sheraton so I could get the bus to the airport (I have now traded with Momma for her suitcase on wheels), then the flight to Wellington being completely bumpy and horrible. I was smiling like a crazy woman cos we all know i like being scared, whilst trying not to be sick as we landed. Then Momma picked me up and we had lunch at the Crank Cafe, and I got to go home and have a nap before having to drive her places in the van so she could get the tyres changed on the car. Mmmmm nap. And hten I took another one after that, so nice to not have to worry about mice running around. After that, I had dinner with Mummy and Daddy, and they dropped me off at Espressaholic to meet up with Fatty Si Si.

I had a drink there with his friends, and then as soon as we stepped out on the pavement, Henry started making me laugh because he really is a very strange boy. It was so nice to finally get to see Simon again too, cos he kicks so much ass. Anyways, so we headed up the road to Traffic, which was booked out for Ayna’s party. It is SUCH a nice venue, I am so totally going to have something there sometime. It’s the old Indian restaurant that used to be public loos before that (yes i know, it sounds wrong but it’s just so right). One round room at one end had a tiled floor, and a fresco ceiling and turntables set up in it, and the other round room at the other end had a pretty blue ceiling that ended up looking like the ceiling at the Civic to me, and persian rugs and low couches, and in between those rooms is an area with a pool table, and then another area with a regular nice kinda bar in it, and it’s all painted dark red, adn there’s a fire in the bar bit. So yeah, fantastic venue. And there was just such a good vibe going on, cos there were three people having their birthdays, so it was all friends and the place was full, and it just felt really nice. Lotsa djs took turns playing, and it was all fullspectrum drum&bass and also lotsa different kinds of hiphop, and there was a guy mcing over the drumandbass at times, so it was very cool. I danced my ass off. I talked to lots and lots of people. I lisped my way through half a little piece’o cardboard. Si Henry and I sat in the corner of the chillout room for ages and ages and ages, covering a heatvent up with a plant cos it was too hot and I felt like iw as going to die from laughing so hard at them singing a little worker’s song – stampy stampy sorty sorty stacky stacky. If only i had a song like that, I’m sure my workdays would fly by too. At some other stage of the night, a girl pulled out a container of kalamata olives out of her bag, and Si had a sack of pistachios. I love Wellington people who carry backpacks! I wormed my way into conversations with random people when I got bored,a dn defended the “dark arts” that I studied before finally hearing that one of the guys I was talking to worked in Communications anyway. I suggested that someone run around the block if they had too much energy and lauhged soundly when they actually did. I danced and danced and danced and danced, adn then I danced some more. The music was amazing and everyone was dancing so well. I love poeple who do mad things with their feet. It was such a good night! Si left sometime around 12, and I thought about going with him cos he’d said his flatmate was away so I coulda crashed there and saved cabfare, but i was having far too much fun. I didn’t really get much of a chance to talk to Ayna,b ut she seemed really happy that I was there, so that was cool. One very e’d up girl who I’d never met before hauled me to my feet and told me off for crossing my arms in front of myself – “you don’t have to cover yourself up! you’ve got a beautiful body (with a little handmovement curvy drawing thing too)! don’t you like yourself?”. She was scary and made me self concious, wheras before then I’d been far too happy and comfortable and mellow and chilled out to even think about shit like that (oh and i was wearing my cleavage top, which I love). Eventually I just sat on a couch on the dancefloor for hours, having a long and engrossing conversation about the history of Soul Music (“I love hte vibe,” he says, and then he says “let’s just sit here and enjoy it” and he leans in even closer, puts his head on my shoulder and we almost fall asleep). And then I walked him across town and had ot leave in Cuba Street cos there wouldn’t have been any more taxis, and the driver was just grinning at me going “so you had a good night did you?” cos he would have seen the dithering, and hte hugs and the kisses on the cheek. And I smiled all the way home.

This morning Mummy woke me up for brunch – pancakes and bananas and pig, and she wrote me a list’o things to remember, and then they left, and I floated around the house all afternoon. This evening i went to another PR function, this one held in the Portrait Gallery of Bowen House. It was okay – I talked to some people. Steve Maharey (Minister of Tertiary Education and Broadcasting) gave a speech, adn then I went and talked to him and he gave me the name of the guy who runs his media unit so that i can express my interest in working htere. No one flat-out offered me a job. Then I went to see Anji, and she didn’t have a key to our house and i knew I’d locked myself out. I went home to meet up with KateB but our neighbours were out, and the laundry window was shut, so Kate and I had to drive back to town to Karen’s to get the key off her. My time down here is going to be so hectically social. Everyone wants a piece’o me, and while I want a piece’o everyone too, right now after last night, I think there are people that I want more pieces of than others. I’m filthy. Except that I’m actually not, because once again, when I actually really like someone, I respect them far too much to make a move. Darn.

Tuesday September 17th, 2002

1. Oh really, Crushmaster? Someone has just all of a sudden developed a crush on me using “ae” before my domain name? and “gs”? Really? Oh, silly me.
2. When the fuck did I originally design this page if I just used “indigo” as a BGCOLOR instead’o a sexi-hexi decimal number?
3. Am I going to be sick tomorrow? I guess I am, right?
4. One of them had better have been sober-driving it home, or I will be SO mad.
4. I’m sure you knwo me well enough by now to click as to why i haven’t written in ages, if I haven’t written in ages.
5. Bo+Clay+Me flatdinners kick some ass.
6. I don’t think I’ll go to quiznight anymore – I think that ship has sailed. Plus, I have a supershort attention span, and oh yeah, I dunno. Some rant about pointless semi-rockstar semi-crushes etc etc. He’s still real cute though.
7. Clay and I, staggerign up the street, punchdrunk on $50′o liquor with just KateM and Nigel, and he stops to look at some guy, and I figure he’s just angling for a fight cos I thought the other guy bumped him, and I’m like all, oh no, BUT! BUT! It was goddam LEYTON. You know, the first flatmate that I ever kicked out, cos he wasn’t a team player and I wanted Brad to move in.
8. Brad McCormick, calling me on my cellie from work in Whakacarnie after I txted him going “OH MY GOD THE DRAMA” cos he knew I was talking H&A (I love our psychic bond) and he wanted a full description. Oh Kirsty and Kane, when will you find happiness together?
9. I really want to smoke pot with you RIGHT NOW, even if it means that you don’t end up talking at all after that.
10. Should I try and hold out for 32 points?
11. I had a big talk with Joseph today, and feel much better about my PR Practice paper now, even if we probably did quite badly in our report (oh, sorry Haley, I should email you, but to be perfectly honest, I’m more than a little squiffy right now, and I do have semi-proposal type things to write and send you, and then I’ll email you. Oh, that’s not like a “will you marry me?” thing, just in case the audience as a whole didn’t get thta).
12. I’m still loving my haircut and the other Hayley (with two y’s, not one) by default as well.
13. Who was teh fucking mongrel that listed me on crushmaster in the first place? No one has crushes on me. At best, you’d like to put your penis in me for a little while, in one way or another, or just engage me in witty conversation. I know the score, chief.
14. Welly and some valuable chillout alone time tomorrow, yay!

Sunday September 8th, 2002

So my favourite new game to play on Sundays is to find a friend whom you know was more than a little drunk at a big social function and text them to say that there’s a photo of them snogging on the back on the Sunday Star Times. Muhahaha. Sorry.

This morning I had brunch with KateH at BoxHouse. It was choice! We gossiped lots, as per usual, and I replayed for her all the conversations that we’d had on Friday Night that she didn’t remember. The service was lovely and the food was excellent, and so it made for a very enjoyable time all around. But eventually I had to drag myself home. Haley came over in the afternoon, and we actually got a lot of work done – well, we drafted our first press release, and tried to organise other things, and freaked out about how much work we have to do. I’m so craving a time machine that can zap us to the afternoon of November 21st when I have finished my exams and we have handed in our final report and all we have to do is worry about how to wear our hair to the actual show. Not that I’m shallow or anything, oh no.

But of course, no time spent working on our assignment is without at least twice the amount of time gossiping. Haley’s like “Wow, I learn something new about you every Sunday”. Today was intimate details of my sex life, poor girl, oh, and also that I have a website. Hi Haley! Now get back to work.

This evening I did nothing at all. Oh, that’s not strictly true – I talked to KateM on the phone which was super choice cos I hadn’t talked to her in a zillion years. She says the reason that people love me is for my paranoia. I think she’s been smoking crack overseas. Then I watched Buffy and then The A’Team. And now I’ve done the reporting in to our mentor/client, like the good girl I am, and am trying to arrange my day for tomorrow. I can’t remember if I have one interview or two tomorrow. Uh oh. I think it’s just one, and then I have two on Tuesday – hopefully. I guess right now I really should try and plan out some interviewing questions. Dammit, I’m supposed to be in PR, not Journalism! Oh wait, that’s right – us PR people fulfill ALL the media functions while you others are just lazy. Call us the dark arts, will you?

Also tomorrow, I must send out zines. Have I plugged that enough? When you write to me to ask me for one, if you’re especially polite, I may even send out one of my last remaining copies of The Garland Gang cd. I wonder if I still have a page about that. Hmmm, apparently I don’t. Oh well.

And I’ve been stupid, and have been reading your old letters, and I wonder if you’re still out there watching, or what. And did I do something wrong, and is that MY editor’s tread I hear approaching? And just finally, no one calls me verbacious any more. And that sucks.

I did write up how I’m going to Welly, yeah? Yeah I think I did. Which means I’ll have to rearrange my work days to fit that in, and coupled with the fact that I’m interviewing fashion students left right and centre, I’m pretty fucking busy eh. Also tomorrow I must go to the chemist in Mt Eden and plead with them to fill my pill repeat for me even though it was supposed to have expired on the 7th of September – I so don’t wanna have to pay $20 for another prescription. I’m not entirely sure how beneficial it’s been to me – I still have pimples, and I’m still hairy, but maybe less so. And who knows what’s going on in my ovaries. Oh, that
reminds me of amusing critics:

landscribe says: uhm.. i have issues with how your expenditure and income match up.. you eat out lots
Joanna McLeod says: well
Joanna McLeod says: I have an allowance
landscribe says: and you live in auckland.
Joanna McLeod says: plus I work 15 hours a week
Joanna McLeod says: plus I’m good at eating cheaply
Joanna McLeod says: you too can have a lifestyle like me!
landscribe says: i dont have ovary and pill issues.. nor do i like dry martinis… i can only *aspire*

Oh you get my point. Shut up.