Hubris.co.nz

Everybody quick, grab a can of gasoline (not petrol) and some matches and come with me, cos I’m going to burn all my bridges. Or some of them at least. Oh no wait, I already did that. I wish I still had meds to make me invincible and to cut off my thinking thinking thinking. But I don’t. So let’s move on.

I had about a thousand cocktails at Katy’s cocktail party, and when I say “about” I probably mean “maybe 20″. My feet are cold. This is very important that you know this. We’ve been listening to Ghostplane and now we are listening to the Phoenix Foundation. I was worried when Ghostplane finished and the cd player spun around because I’m not often very down with Bart’s taste in music which tends towards the yelling, but it seems that I still have background music for entertaining to in the player.

Last night at China-at-the-Country-Club I had eleven people for dinner. Everyone else ate the Chinese food that was delivered. My hexagonal table has two inserts that can be inserted into it (oh really?) to make it longer, so we did that. I only have six dining room chairs though, so we had to use a computer chair and a wicker couch and also pull up my sea-chest to it. I drank Tsing Tao beer and stuck candles in their empty bottles. Jeremy wasn’t there when we ordered the food and made disparaging remarks about vegetarians, so we didn’t know he was one and therefore all he got to eat was some brocoli and plain rice. I felt bad. We all read our chinese horrorscopes and suddenly Jessie’s metal monkey stamp made sense. Ash’s horrorscope made her out to be totally like Hitler. Both Bart and Angie are rats, with a twelve year age difference. I think I needed to sleep more last night, this is all very disjointed. Everyone shared facts about China, although Kate mostly shared facts about the Kaori Sanctuary and the fish ladder. Did you know, for example that Anji, Karen and I are all half Chinese? We must be, because Mum was born in Hong Kong. Then again, Karen and Anji were born in Japan, so their eyes must be all crazy slanty. Ahh the country club, allowing for cliches from all around the world. We had sparklers afterwards cos of the Chinese rocking the fireworks and I made fun of people coughing at the sparkler smoke and then got caught in it myself and coughed for the rest of the night. We watched Intimate Confessions of a Chinese Courtesan to round off our cultural experience, but it was disappointly mostly unporny. But it was still fantastic. The next Country Club is likely to be Canadia Eh, and we will eat chips with cheese and gravy. Without the gravy. And watch ice hockey porn. And listen to the Arcade Fire. I know I am late to the Arcade Party, but I am still madly in love with them.

Then we went to Katy’s cocktail party where I stood in the kitchen for much of the night nice and close to the blenders so that I pretty much always had a drink in my hands. The guy that I had a crush on in 2001 was staring at my boobs all night. You’re like, five years too late buddy, I don’t do drugs anymore. I was wearing a sequined shrug and it glittered all over the place. I was dazzling. It gave me an arm rash though and I felt a little bit like a human disco ball, which is possibly not the greatest thing to feel like. We put our hands on our hearts to sing that we belonged to the night, we belonged to the thunder, and people salsaed to Gloria Estefan. Lisa kept making eyes at my sister. I kept throwing goats. My group of friends is awesome. Katy’s flatmate refused to marry me. I like her kitchen despite the big hole in the roof. One of my fondest memories of New Year’s Eve was dancing around it to MIA waving a big serving spoon. As you do. Or rather, as I did.

I was going to go up to my parents’ house this weekend to say hi to Pixie and watch their big TV, but I don’t know if I can be bothered. Maybe I should. Oh I don’t know. Maybe I should just stay here and plan what I am going to cook for Jessie when she comes down next weekend. I’m very looking forward to seeing her. It’s also awesome that I have an excuse to not go out with my workmates on Friday night and be a dick and end up crying in the toilets at Boulot and then running off to Lisa’s house and sitting on her footstool and falling off because it’s just all soft again. It’s important not to do these things more than once. And then the night after that KateH will be down and we’re going to go see Dylan Moran, and I’m going to marry him and we’re going to open a bookstore together and always be drunk and rude. Hurrah!

Bottle of champers drunk: check
Big ass chocolate martini in hand: check
Chocolate on the table: check
Crying at The OC: check
Friday night out dancing at 24 Hour Party People: oh wait….

I thought that ‘Extreme Home Makeover’ would clear me out properly. You know, you watch some cheesey ass tv, cry and cry and cry – even five minutes into a show when they’re introducing the family and you’re tearing up and it’s like “GREAT!” because you think that will be that, and you’ll purge for the rest of the week, but apparently that doesn’t count.

Bloc Party on Rove. I should be out dancing at 24 Hour Party People right now. I should have also learnt by now that I NEVER make it to this gig, or to Atomic, but I guess being so sick for so long made me forget that even when I’m well I don’t actually ever make it out. I don’t do exciting things.

I got a phone call from Katy today on behalf of a friend, whose parents have apparently been looking for her name online and coming up with bad stories on my website. The thing is though that I searched for her name on Google, and then on Yahoo, and I couldn’t find any dirt – unless you count drinkign vodka as dirty. But I suppose I will search further and replace her name with an initial. At what stage does one accept that the Internet is dead? I mean, I get these emails at work from Quality Assurance telling me that certain links are dead – but those links were from a news page in 2002, so it kind of makes me go “yeah duh”. That’s not talking bad about work is it? I don’t think so. I mean it’s not like I said THE DRUG CELEBRITIES ARE… Heh.

It’s just, I dunno. I thought I was over this. I mean, tonight, Seb was on my lap, and he was looking at me every time I made a noise, and I made noises because that’s what I do, and he was so worried, and hey, he’s a cat. So this means I can’t have human children, because I couldn’t handle it if they looked at me like that. And I would be a target for postal natal depression – or, you know, post-natal, even. Oh, and not to mention that it takes at least two to tango, and also some sperm to make babies.

Okay, so in searching out Said Friend’s name, I come across sentences like “And besides, Diane didn’t wanna share me with him and how could I go against that? ” and I’m just like “omg wtf?” because when it’s hard to articulate yourself, it’s ALWAYS best to use acronyms, right? LOL. Haha, I never actually say LOL. BUt it’s strange to be reminded of these people and these things. It’s also strange because I used to actually have a life, and it’s funny reading entries from the end of 2001 when I had this huge crush and I was all “wow, it’s so strange, I like him so much I don’t even know how to hit on him istead of just asking him for a fuck” and I’d laugh at that phrase except that’s actually what I used to do – and be quite successful at. What was the difference between now and then? Many kilos, but also many pills. Oh the pills. Maybe I decided that maybe I should go back on them because maybe they would help me get laid again.

My favourite entry that I’ve come across in the search is this one April 10th, but I just found the punch line and it makes me want to punch someone.

My sister must be super girl smelly for me to have finally had two periods in a row.

(friend) says: and I’m pretty quick so your rsi would be fine – Aww shucks.

Also: ha ha, I’ve rediscovered reading this old entry that my PR friend and I used to write notes to each other about a boy we thought was cute who ended up on the cover of a magazine professing his love for a particular celebrity – not one of the cocaine drug fiends, but friend-of. Heh. Anyways. Also, in this week’s New Idea is Penny’s wedding (Err, that’s Samantha and Kevin to you).

Double Also: I hearby declare that despite how lonely I am (and holy fuck, I’m lonely) I hereby pledge not to get to know anyone whose name I already know intimately. You’d better get yourself a nickname, stat. Too many people with the same names.

I spoke too soon about how nice it was to not have anyone extra staying. The German girls are back tonight, they just waltzed in and dumped their stuff – “we’re back”. I think I’m going to have to have a word to Ammy about it, because no one here can actually afford to subsidise their living costs. And I just want some peace!

Actually, I’m a little richer that I expected to be, because my darling frined Nikki ran my number through the IRD and I get $350 back in tax. Then on Saturday, despite that we were both hungover, she took me to the battery shop and fitted a new battery in my rusty old engine, and checked my oil (there was none) and my water, and asked me if I could change a tyre. I can. Just whip out your cellphone and call 0800 500 222. Duh.

Anyways, Friday night was dinner with KateH and Nikki here, and some copious amounts of beer consumption, before going to Steven’s apartment for more drinking. Steven lives in the same building that nigel used to live in, so there were far too many memories for me of crying in stairwells. Oh well. Steven’s friends were rather amusing, and Nikki (and to a lesser degree I) had arguments with the boys about whether or not Pearl Jam should have broken up a long time ago (yes). There was a suicide girls sticker in the bathroom, and three spacies machines in the lounge. There was also a boy there with Frodo eyes, so that was very cute. Eventually Nikki and I went home to drink more beer and hide in my bedroom from Jonny. Later I had to get up to go to Megan’s bed where Nikki was sleeping cos she came-a-knocking on my bedroom door demanding that I go and tell her stories til she fell asleep. I cheated and receited Douglas Coupland.

Then yesterday, being Saturday, there was the assorted car battery madness (it goes now! how exciting!) and much laying around doing nothing at all. In the evening, Allison showed up, which was lovely, and Ammy made us lovely food, and her and me and Bo and Allison all went to the biggass party at Milton Road that the Kids were playing at (Okay, so they’re actually called The Midnights now, officially apparently, so I must stick to that). There were many many many people there, so many that I couldn’t even watch the kids play, cos the lounge was too packed and it freaked me out. At other parties I’ve been to with the rogues, conversations came super easily to me and I was all outgoing and friendly and hot chicks were scored, but it wasn’t like that last night. Maybe I was a little introverted, I dunno. I did have a very interesting long talk with this guy who works for an organisation that’s kinda parellel to mine, and he was cool, but then there was the whole conversation finished “i’m going to go and check out the rest of the party” thing. I found Bo sitting with a bunch’o the kids on the back of a truck, but it was too cold, and they were all smoking up, which you may reemember I can’t do, so I decided to go home. It was about a twenty minute walk, and only one car offered me a ride. I rejected it, strangely enough. Anyways, so I was very very cold and lonely, but I got home and Seb came running out,so there were many many snuggles and a gorgeous warm bed, and that was fabo.

This morning (well, actually it was this afternoon), Ammy and I went to St Lukes and did a ridiculous amount of running around, and I bought a Sony video player. Yay! I owe her the money though, cos my bond refund and IRD refunds haven’t come through yet. We also got picnicy foods, and eventually headed on over to Potter’s Park, which is just a smidgen up the road, for the peace concert. We got a spot in the shade and spread out blankets and mats and had a lovely afternoon of it, even though whoever was m’cing was a dick. After that, there was more struggling with the video before I managed to get the tv tuned to it, and so now it’s all good.

Tomorrow Bo and Leo are working for me handing out shit. I’m so excited. I’m also super excited that our plans for the School Fair themed b’day party for Megan have developed, and so now along with a kissing booth and a gypsy and pony rides, we’re also going to have a second hand clothing swap meet. This party will be fabo. I hope. I was supposed to clean the bathroom tonight but I might just go to bed instead. xojo.

So, while I’m drunk enough and also happy enough, I might give you a brief heads up. I’m really tempted to not to though, because oh for fucks sake, can people misunderstand me just a little bit more? Am I really that obtuse? I’m considering shutting down Hubris once and for all. I thought I was clearer and easier to understand on paper, but apparently not. It just really fucking bugs me, eh.

BUT! Here’s another list:

 <!-- and she's even more annoying in person in real life. the next two months are gonna be HELL -->

I don’t know if you’ll get this. If I list all the reasons I like this last boy, will you misread it? Will you think that he’s vitally vitally important to me, and worry about telling em things, and think that in the grand scheme of things that he really matters? Because he doesn’t. How do I drill that into your fucking head? How do I explain what’s really important? And how do I make you see that hte black clouds haven’t gone away, and that they won’t ever go away really properly? Because you don’t get it, and if you’ve ever felt like I have, then you too are pretending like it won’t ever happen again; like you’re CURED, and it doesn’t come back. Guess what? It does. But that wasn’t my point. My point was glee, I guess, inspired by a conversation with Jezza tonight about another boy in flannel pajamas. Now you may or may not know that now I really don’t respect this boy anymore, on account of him behaving more than a little immaturely lately (oh shut up, this is about him, not me) but the point was that it’s still a really cute, endearing memory that he put on flannel pjs after shagging me. So can we please move on to the next boy (who is like, umm 3 boys after the flannel boy in terms of being the object of my affection? smething like that anyways)? Thank you.

Reasons why I have a crush on the latest boy:

You still don’t fucking get it though, do you? Because I’ve had so much time to think about this, to figure it all out in my mind, to the point where everything becomes predictable, where I know what people are going to say before they say it, and where it’s almost like there’s no point in having conversations anymore. Why don’t you suprise me? Go on. I bet you can’t. See, that’s your problem maybe, your defeatist attitude. And I’m sorry if you think that I’m being unnecessarily harsh, so if it helps, maybe I’m not talking to YOU at all, I’m talking to someone else. How dare you think that you’re the centre of my universe at all, after all?

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.

Thursday September 5th, 2002

I’ve had whispers of conspiracy theories going on in my head, which really serve just to demonstrate what a paranoid paranoid paranoid girl I am. Nevermind.

Hmmm, what have I been up to lately? Working yesterday afternoon, but Terri was out sick, and Bridget’s away for a month (dammit, I nearly called them by their real names) and I didn’t have very much to do and I couldn’t move further without help from Terri, so I did do some more work on my zine. It’s nine pages long now, but I figure I have to make it at least 16 to make it worthwhile doing, and I’m finding that really, there’s not all that much more I can write. I’ve already outsmutted myself, I think (oh, for those of you who’ve just tuned in, my zine is called “BOYS BOYS BOYS BOYS BOYS”). Still haven’t found out if I got the job yet or not. It’s stressing me out more than just a little bit.

I was naughty and wagged my HR Tut this morning, but luckily it turned out that it was canceled anyway. Joseph was more than usually disturbing in our PR Practice tut, so Haley and I ever-so-grownuply wrote notes to one another, mostly about DiscoDan and I think I caught her up on my conspiracy theories and she just laughed at me. She also wrote me a note saying that I should tell Clayton she thinks he’s hot and that he should give her a call if he ever breaks up with Kara. I laughed. Oh, I’ll interrupt me with this side story here – Clay is a little grumpy with me tonight, cos he was telling me a story about this guy who tried to pick him up on the bus, who kept quizzign him about his background and what school he went to and stuff, and so when Clay told him, they tried to compare names of people they knew from there but they had no one in common, so Clay went “oh, but I know (umm forget his name) from Queer Nation”, so in the retelling of it I was like “oh of course Clay – all gay people know each other and they all watch Queer Nation” and so he’s shirty with me for accusing him of stereotyping, but oh well. Typical self loathing!

Anyways. Where were we? Oh yeah. So after our very long plenary meeting, Haley and I went to the Playhouse cos we thought we mighta been meeting the fashion students for an interview, but we weren’t sure cos Haley had sent out the email and not checked it recently (grr!) but they didn’t show, as I kinda expected, so we just had a drink and did much gossiping instead. Then I went home and phoned Momma, and booked plane tickets to Wellington. Yes, I’m going back there, even after declaring loudly many times to many people that I never ever wanted to again. Here’s why:

1. Ayna had invited me to her birthday party on the 18th of September.
2. We’re having a PR social down there to meet and greet (and apparently get leered at) by prospective employers.
3. Mummy and Daddy are going away for a week on the 19th, so I will get the house to myself, plus since I’m flying down on the 18th, I will get to see them for a day,which is probably all I can handle of them.
4. Karen and Anji and my KatieB and my FattySi are all down there and I miss them all and wanna hang out with them big lots.

So now I just have to get the time off work, or rearrange my days somehow. Luckily I do have a day in lieu up my sleeve.

This evening James picked me up and I went to see the team named “Stupid Horse” play indoor netball. It was fun! And it made meeee wanna play, although I haven’t since the glory days’o Standard 4. I have no doubt that I would suck at it – a lot. But still. Oh and Kate – I didn’t say this tonight, in fact I didn’t even think of it, but then I was watching Juice, so guess what? TEHEHEHEHEHEHEHHE. Love you baby.

Bo is still staying at her aunt’s, babysitting her cousin, so I rang her earlier today cos lord knows I can’t go three days without her ray of sunshine in my life. I’m so glad she moved in. Speaking of people that I like, have I said lately that I miss you? And I miss you. And you.

I have been having major crazy dreams lately – last night’s involved the cast of Home and Away, and a supervillan who was placing poisonous evil nasty creatures everywhere. It was fucked up. And oooh, I also dreamt about Amy and Andeee, so I really must give them a call sometime. I have a lot of catching up to do, I’m really quite slack huh?

July 5th, 2002

I’ve been reading through my old reports, because Mum found an envelope of them, and it’s extraordinary the story that they tell; at the American school I started out really smart and full of enthusiasm and blasting my way out of the remedial writing class they stuck me in thinking that I was a ‘dumb Australian’, and then as I got into seventh grade, comments read like “Joanna does not participate as much in class as she used to” and my marks start falling and there’s even “I believe underlying problems may be affecting her results”. Oh really? Underlying problems like ooooooh maybe I was being bullied every day, and I was fucking miserable and I wanted to die? Do you think that might have affected my marks. FUCK YOU to every single fucking teacher at ASIJ. Just looking at the reports, it’s so fucking obvious what was happening to me, and what the fuck did they do about it? Nothing. And my mother just now is like “Should we have taken you to a shrink so that you could realyl have fit in with those Americans?” Well, yes, maybe, Mum. Or maybe you could have spent at least one day in those four years not telling me how miserable you were, and tried to make things a little easier for me. This is so pathetic of me; this stuff was like, ten years ago, and it’s making me cry right now. I’m okay, I survived it all – thank god for Beth Dodd arriving at ASIJ in 8th grade, and for Lisa Gonser and Ryan Rimschnider leaving at the end of 7th grade.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH.

Last night, I went around to Fatty Si’s house. We went adn got coffee at Midnight Espresson, and then rented DVDs – Zoolander and Nurse Betty. We chatted and hung out and stuff. It was cool. He said that a long long time ago, his girlfriend at the time, Heidi, used to worry about me before she met me, cos he talked about me a lot, but then she met me and thought I was super cool and loved me. As soon as you actually meet me, you realise that there’s no way I could take your boyfriend away from you, even if I wanted to, which I don’t, ever. Ladies, I am not a threat to your man! Statistically speaking, I am far more likely to score your girlfriend. I’ve only slept with one guy who had a girlfriend, and she was far too good for him anyways (as was I, which is probably one of the main motivating factors for me to do it, since it was in the six months I spent last year trying to reach rock bottom). On the drive home, through the wilderness of Wilton, I suddenly started feeling very lonely. It was a little odd.

Now I am sitting in the very warm lounge listening to the Topless Women Talk About Their Lives soundtrack (I love this album so much, although the current association i have with it is of a sweet boy’s white bum shining in the dark as he bent over to put it on at my request), and thinking about doing some writign that i told someone I’d do for them, which I wish I hadn’t. I’m too nice, I think. But my word is my word and I hate to let people down. Maybe I’ll work on it tonight when I come home leeringly drunk from “a quiet dinner” with KateB. We’ll go BYO, drink two bottles’o wine and see where the night takes us. I get to see my baby girl again, YAY. Then I just have to spend lots’o time with Karen, Anji, go visit Oma, see Fatty again, see Hulita, adn maybe call the Rimu Crew (Bopha’s old flat). It’s probably just as well that the Welly Massive doesn’t really seem to exist anymore – Ayna’s on holiday in Indonesia and Daniel moved to Korea to teach English, cos i probably don’t have the time and energy to take e and go out dancing for hours and hours and hours.

Today I am dying of the flu. This is the reason that my body has been aching for days, not that all my limbs are atrophying and about to fall off. I guess it was kinda brought to fruitition by me staying up til 4am to finish an assignment. Sure, that probably wasn’t the smartest idea in the world, but I’d had to work for KateM in the afternoon before that, so I couldn’t have started it any earlier (and no, I couldn’t have started it before the day before it was due – what do you take me for?) And maybe I could have worked on it while at KateM’s work, but I was helping a boy send out posters and stuff, and answering the phones, and plus the couch in the staffroom was much more comfy. Etc etc. You know me, excuses are what I do best.

Today I got up around half past eight to finish off my assignment. I’m not really sure what exactly I wrote, only that I was dying while I was doing it, and then I went into my 10am class to give some stuff to Jinan for it. But I was just about to throw up/pass out/something else bad, so I had to walk out midclass to go home. I managed to sleep for a couple more hours after that, until Ben got up and played Linkin Park so loud that all the windows in the apartment were rattling. Thank FUCK he’s gone tomorrow. Bopa’s having her bed delivered at 9.30am, although I’m guessing he won’t be out quite by then. The house is a pigstye but I can’t really clean cos when I stand up I feel faint. I’m chewing airwaves gum like it’s going out of style, popping brufen cos my wrists are hurting from essay writing, and wondering if I can doubledose on my day/night tablets. I hate being sick! Especially when there’s no one to take care of me. I wish someone would bring me lemsips and soup and stroke my forehead – am I asking too much? Clay just got home from work now (11pm) but when I told him I was sick, he hugged me holding me at arm’s length. He’s mean.

What else? Sick sick sick sick sick. I miss Tom who I haven’t talk to in weeks like mad. I miss KatieB. I was getting random text messages yesterday from someone calling me “Spunkrat” and “Babycakes” and I had no idea who they were from until they demanded gossip and used name-abbreviations so I figured out it was Andee, and so that was cool, but still, I miss my friends! Oh sure, I spent an hour at KateM’s last night drinking red wine with her after I dropped off her work keys, and I saw KateH every day in the weekend, but is that really enough? No, I don’t think so! Not when I need nursing it’s not.

Bopa was gonna call the Welly Massive to see if they were coming up this weekend, so I dunno if they are or not. I hope I’m better tomorrow, although if I’m playing Welly games, I will probably just end up semidying again. It’s hard to keep up with some people’s lifestyles!

I was in the high demand section of the AUT library (oh yeah, there’s a huge demand for me, baby) yesterday when my landlady rang to tell em she was shocked at how often our rent autopayments had failed. I tried to explain to her that I’d already told her that, and that it was Ben’s fault and why we were kicking him out, but I got all worried and told her that I’d have to call her back when I got home with dates from when I’d put money through manually. I was completely freaked out and stressed, because I know that I’ve always paid the rent, although admittedly sometimes it’s been nearly two weeks late, plus I hate anything to do with banks. I was just about in tears stressing about it when she left a message on my cellphone saying that she’d noticed that there were lots of anonymous deposits going in and that she figured that was probably me, she was sure I was reliable and not to panic. PHEW!

Tomorrow night Pluto are playing at Leftfield and EyeTV are playing at The Classic, so it would be a dilemna except that there’s no way in hell I would go to Leftfield. The last time I saw EyeTV play was at the Static launch party nearly two years ago when Clay and I won the dance contest, and they were excellent, so I may go to see them. Then again, it’s Bopa’s first night in the flat and all, so I’ll probably just stay home; that works for me too, especially if I’m still sick, which I will no doubt be.

IGSTJKD was on Monday, without ceremony. Yesterday was textfiles inside the covers of cds that people make for me. Today is Wednesday. Tomorrow is Anzac Day. In the lounge right now, Clay is being all chatty with Ben, which makes me laugh cos I think that’s really hypocritical considering how much he goes on about Ben behind his back. At least I’m just flat out grumpy with him all the time since we decided we didn’t like him. This is honour and intergrity, really! And it is also zfree not connecting, despite being on its 83rd dialling attempt.

Is it asking too much to be able to get to sleep before 5am? I mean, really. So I missed classes today because I can’t function on 4 hours, or maybe just because I’m lazy and not as motivated as I should be. Maybe I will fail at PR too, along with every other major career plan. I’d make a good housewife. I cleaned the oven today, which hasn’t been cleaned since we moved in.

Face contact with the world today – a total of ooh about half an hour with Clayton. Also, there was the lady at Mercury Plaza who I think was suprised when I just got stirfried veges instead of something involving tofu and a lot of chilli. A one minute phone conversation with KateH who doesn’t think she can afford Grooverider, so I dunno what to do now, I guess I’m waiting on the word from the Welly Massive as to whether or not I’ll be attending. Two phonecalls for Clay that I had to make chitchat to, and also a lady calling me to say that her daughter had cancer and I had to tell her that I’m not that Joanna, and that she’d dialed one number wrong. I also watched a movie with Corey Feldman in it, and since him and I have such a special connection, I’m sure that counts as facetime too.

I don’t even get any email or talk to hardly anyone online anymore – that’s assuming that I can actually get a connection in to the Net. Which reminds me, I really must get a paid for account. And go to the bank to show them my student id so they don’t charge me fees. And call Greenlane hospital about my ultrasound. And buy a present for Kara’s 21st. Oh yay, these are a few of my favourite things.

Intermission while Joanna goes for a restless drive to Greenlane to give her computer time to connect and to get wine in the hopes that it’ll induce sleep.

Half an hour later, the supermarket yeiled: