I know i haven’t written for a couple of days, and I apologise. Well, actually i have written, but the stuff I have written is saved in txt form on my desktop, and will not be uploaded. Paper pen and I just don’t connect as well anymore as fingers and keyboard I guess. Which is pretty trajic, but hey, as long as I get to write personal entries for myself, what’s the problem?
And of course, it’s also fun to write public stuff. Like this. But because I haven’t written in a while, excuse me if it’s kinda fragmented.
First things first, the proper address for my MSN community is http://communities.msn.co.nz/TheWatched . No wubwubwub. Go figure. Please go there and join up. It could be the start of something great. There were a whole swag of photos of me uploaded by someone other than me, but I had to delete one of them. As Manager, I have that power. Rah rah.
Okay, so that topic was getting boring, but Kate B had fun with it yesterday when she was playing with it while waiting for our cake to bake after our shore adventure. That’s right, I got lost in Takas. Luckily, I was not lost for very long. But I did manage to burn some people off, just to prove my shoreness.
Clayton also burnt someone off in Newmarket on Saturday night while driving my car. I was so proud of him. We went to the Classic to see Brad, because I had been stood up. It was Wai’s goodbye party, and the theme was Disco Superstars. Justin looked massive. When me and Clay went in, we didnt’ realise the party was on. Minutes later, there were bouncers and red velvet ropes at the door. We felt pretty fucking cool. And l33t and stuff. To quote Clayton, that is. He drove Brad’s car home for him, and I drove my own, as neither of us drank more than one chocolate vodka. How restrained!
I was at tech from 9-5 today. How heinously long! Maree gave me a ride in in the morning, so I was suprisingly chipper. We had a good chat on the way in, and complained about ugly cars (not hers or mine). She’s looking after her cousins this week, which means she has full on mother lists and stuff. I’ve renamed her ‘Fran’.
After my lecture on Black Tuesday, I had to go to the bank. Grrrrr! Or more specifically, I didn’t even have to go to the bank – double grr! I hate banks. So much. They ALWAYS fuck me around. Fuck them, I say.
Then I texted Shirley to tell her to come meet me, and she did. We went to a computer lab to print out multiple photos of her – I did the invites for her 21st – and then she ditched me in the Journo room. That was okay, cos Peter and I went to look for cds. Well, he went to look for Travis’s “Turn” single, which has a brilliant cover of Briteny Spears’s “Baby One More Time” on it. The scary thing is if they’d recorded it not taking the piss, it would actually sound like a really really good song. Well, I mean it’s a GREAT song as a piece of catchy pop, but you know what I mean. Or you don’t, and either way, I’ll never know, will I?
Peter was really cool to hang out with, even if he had been leaving me stalky Mr T notes. In my lecture this morning, I was sitting next to Andrew, when I asked him what the date was. He told me that it was the 1st, so I gave him a pinch and a punch. He was like “d’oh” and reached out for me. Fearing retribution, I ducked away going “what are you doing???” and he blushed bright red going “I was going to give you a kiss and a kick for being so quick”. Poor poor Andrew – he was so embarrassed, being as shy as he is. I told him he was welcome to go ahead anyways, trying to make him feel better, and then we both agreed I was just too quick full stop. Period even.
Ahh, you didn’t think you could go a whole while without me bitching about my period, did you? Well. I dunno if this is exactly bitching. I’m kind of relieved to have it. I think I’ve just got far too much underlying paranoia, but this is like my first one since i went off the pill more than a month ago – and that’s strange coming from fortnightly. I get the pms, but not the bleeding. I guess there was like a tiny tiny tiny corner of me, the part that believes that fate likes to laugh at me, thinking that maybe i was pregnant, and the pill was just making me bleed. And because I’m such a horrible bad person, I was going to have a vegetable baby, fucked up by alcohol and birth control and god knows what else.
Like I said, major paranoia issues. I was watching the Comedy Gala on TV tonight, and fuck, I’m such a fucking comedy buff. I know the score, chief. It’s like me with coffee – I know a good cup from a bad, and I’m very very fussy. Doesn’t mean I could be funny, or even make a good cup of coffee. But the world always needs critics. Yes, it does.