The Eyes Have It

Friday 7; May, 1999

Maybe I should just go to bed now, rather than sitting here freezing writing a journal entry to idle away time that there probably isn’t even much point in passing when I could be asleep right now.

I was halfblind for about an hour and a bit this morning. My contact lenses are supposed to soak for at least 6 hours overnight, right, but I prefer to leave them for about eight. However, I only took them out at 2.30am last night, due to being in town at Brad’s comedy thing, so when I put them in at like 8am, they’d only had five and a half hours soaking. The first one, I was especially stupid and didn’t think to rinse it in Saline first. STING!!!!!!! Ooooooowwwwwwwwwwwch so I had to fish it out, flush it well, and then try and put it back in while tears were rolling down my cheeks. Second lense goes in easier, but then all hell breaks loose as my eyes realise that the lenses haven’t soaked long enough. They decide that the best thing that they can do is close up, so that no amount of cold water or coffee can open them. The only way I was able to see was to tug hard at my eyebrows or lower lids, and squint, tilting my head forward. I’m not kidding, eh. It was fucking heinous. I wanted to play Tekken 3 (cos Si’d rented it the day before) again before i left the house, but because my eyes were shutting so much, it was like playing by strobe. I still managed to win, though. The computer controlled fighters are easy to beat.

Okay, yes. So I slunk into the TV studios a trifle late, because I think they’ve cut down on the number of buses that run along GS Road now (they’re further between and always packed now, instead of frequent and empty). My eyes were completly red and bloodshot, tears were streaming down my cheeks, and although I kept my sunglasses on, people still suspected that I was dying. The good news is that my eyes slowly opened up, and returned to their normal colours, so I stopped seeing black spots and feeling like I was going to pass out. Tunnel vision sucks, man. Would fully NOT reccomend it to anyone.

Anyways, we set up for our interview in a little room, having to stack up chairs to make way for our lighting and seats. I was given a list of questions to ask our interviewee, Mr Peter Urlich (famous NZ celebrity, really), about the New Zealand Music Scene, NOT, I must stress, about Popstars and True Bliss. Nigel, Peter and Sacha were quite nervous. I don’t think I was, too much. I was just wishing that I’d had a hand in writing the questions so that I’d know what I was actually going to be asking him. But hey. So yeah, he came in, sat down, and I started in on the questions. At first I felt totally wooden, and really stupid and foolish, sure he was hating us and our pathetic questions. I kept asking about “New Zealand music” so he went “well, that’s a hard question to answer because the catergory is so broad – what type of music do you mean?” which was a fair enough comment to make. I was like Arrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggh I so didn’t write these questions, and was really embarrassed, but then I saved it by asking which genre he considered himself to be a specialist in (pop-rock) and so I used that as a focus for the rest of my questions. In talking about selling out and stuff, I have to admit he gave a fairly good defense for the feelers. However, I can’t remember it now, and they are still wankers, so it obviously wasn’t completly life-changing. I was annoyed cos when we were winding up the interview, he started saying lots of good stuff, but Nigel turned the camera off. Still though, he gave us some really good ideas for other people we could reference (except we probably won’t because we’ve only got 2.45 minutes max time for our piece – but then again Nigel doesn’t really seem too affected by the time frame – grrrrrr, we’ll get back to that later). And yeah, he shook my hand again, and so he seemed to have enjoyed himelf okay, even if Peter M on sound DID ask him to take out his chewing gum. And then the other people in my group said I’d asked really good impromtu questions following on from what he’d been saying, so that was cool. I actually felt really good about the whole thing.

Then we went to go get footage that we could overlay with the soundtrack lifted from our interview. Or something. To be honest, Nigel has taken complete control, and I’m not sure what we’re doing. I don’t know how he thinks he can fit all his ideas into our time-frame, or what role the rest of us group members are supposed to have, or what his angle is, or anything. It’s just annoying, you know? Plus, Sacha and I were whining to go have lunch. Eventually, Nigel and Peter went up to get some shots of bFM, so we went to the downtown centre so she could sneakily drop off keys to her work, and we got Chinese from the foodcourt. You know how it is, you get madcravings for something and then it just makes you ill. So we took a bus up Queen Street to meet the boys at Real Groovy where they were filming shots of NZ music cds. It’s always a bad idea for me to go into a CD store. I can never walk away emptyhanded.

Then Shirley, Sacha and I went to the AIT bar for a much needed drink, because it was happy hour, after all. I’m sulking cos I got ID’d and the other two didn’t. Oh well. I really must find out if the bar is R18 or R20. The stoli made me all lightheaded, I guess because I was so tired. I was nodding off on the bus, then when I got home, after delving through mountains of vision-list emails, I took a nap. Mmmmmmmm sleep is a good thing. I watched Shortland Street huddled under a duvet, then Si and I went to Video-Ezy. We rented There’s something about Mary cos neither of us had ever seen it, and Fear&Loathing in Las Vegas. Which was excellent. Very cool. I wanna go to Las Vegas. I wanna drive in the desert in a convertible. I want Acid that gives me full on hallucenations. Where oh where is my spelling ability?

I’m really cold. And constantly re-writing the menu for my dinner party on sunday. It’s just Kate’s flat, so why do I wanna impress so much? (No offence, guys) Maybe it’s compensation for the fact that we still have a large soggy puddle taking up most of the lounge floor.

Grrrrrrrrrr! I hate our landlord! And his boat shoes too!

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