Sparkling White

email – gbook – grudges – cellie – journal – main Monday July 19th, 1999 My first entry for Hubris. I must try to make this as exciting as possible. Staggered out of bed at 7.45, grunting unintelligably at Clayton as I am wont to to do at that hour of the morning. Showered, got dressed, blessed his socks for leaving me enough bread to make toast with. Then I made myself some Havana coffee that I’d brought up from Welly with me. Mmmmmm. That’s such a good way to start the morning. So yes, once I had my sparkley clips in and stuff, I left the house, bound for the State Insurance Building to suss out my life. I learnt some lessons today. I’m not sure what they’ve taught me, and you don’t need to know what I’m talking about, but still. We have lectures up at the University this semester, for reasons unbeknownst to us, so that’s why we were all meeting in the State Insurance Building, where maps and lecture rooms were posted up. Dee went to Uni before she started the BCs, so we used her as tour guide, and she found the way. Our new lecture theatre was big and wood and fake green leathery and it reminded me heaps of Parliment. Parliment with chalk boards bigger than the average bedroom anyways. As guest lecturers in Journalism, we had the editor of the Eastern Bays Courier (suburban rag), Systems Editor of The Herald (spawn of satan paper that unfortunatly is the only daily paper in Auckland) the Editor of the Sunday Star Times (slightly tabloidy). However, I think I will now start buying the Sunday Star Times, because she was SO cool. Like, she looked like your stereotypical haggard journalist, and you can imagine her chainsmoking and getting stressed out, but she was just so onto it. She had quite a cynical point of view, but that was far more realistic than the other two. For example, when asked to what extent the newspapers just printed straight PR handouts, the woman from the Eastern Bays said that they never ever did that, which is a total load of shite. Suburban papers are ONLY PR handouts. The way she squirmed while answering the question was proof enough even if someone had never read that paper. And the Sunday Star Times lady took the Herald down a peg or twelve, which was great. As an audience, we just about started cheering for her. Then when we got to ask more questions, Joe was fully going on the attack, as only he can do, criticizing the World sections of both papers. That’ll learn THEM to address us as “media savvy”. They turned around and asked us how many people got their news online, and so I raised my hand. They picked on me to explain, so I said “well – I don’t really read newspapers in Auckland”. There goes my career in this town! After that, Shirley, Dee and I lurked around the university for a while cos we thought our next lecture was up there. Well, Shirley and Dee did. I didn’t, but they seemed so emphatic that I was co-erced into believing them. Luckily Derek joined us and set them straight. He also serenaded me with Boyzone, which is always entertaining. For about two minutes. I had a cheeseburger at Macdonalds with them that left me feeling queasy for the rest of the afternoon. Yes I know I was asking for trouble. Mass Comm IIb lectures are held in the newly refurbished bright and shiny B block, so that’s cool, only there’s very little leg room. Maybe it’ll keep me awake. While we were sitting outside it, waiting, Peter gave me a Spice Girl sticker and announced “I’ve lost all my morals – I think now would be a good time for someone to have a party”. Inside the lecture, Nice Andrew made my day, because I was asking him what the highlight of his holidays was, and he said “knowing that I’d see you again today”. Hahaha. Brad decided to change his answer to that too. They admired my sparkley clips, but I had to take a raincheck on telling them the $10 story because the lecture began then. When I got home in the afternoon, I found Simon’s dad piling up his car with stuff, and seeing a pair of Si’s shoes amongst the junk, I was like “eh – wtf?” Getting up closer, he looked all grumpy, so I put on my best happy face, and asked how he was. He was like “I’ve had enough!” and I was like “okaaay” and he goes “I’ve been trying to clean out Simon’s room and it’s all mouldy. I’ve never seen such a bad room. This flat is terrible!” So that fucked me off, because this house ROCKS. Simon hasn’t been in his room to open the curtains or windows for a MONTH, so what does he expect? A little mould is so not going to kill anyone. Maybe he could have raised his son to be a little bit more self sufficient. But I soon calmed down. Then I was really tired but determined to have a burst of energy, so I vaccumed the kitchen and the hall, destroying massive colonies of daddy long webs. Then I cleaned down all the walls in the bathroom, so they’re sparkling white now, instead of a little bit speckled with green. I should so become a tightrope walker when I grow up, man – you shoulda seen my amazing balance on the bathtub. I’d probably have a more successful career in that than anything related to my course, anyways.

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