July 2, Sunday 2000

Our TV doesn’t fucking work. What kind of slum house is this anyways? Well, it does work, but you have to hit it. Sounds like a bad wife to me.

I’m in Wellington now, wahoo. Those of you that are on the mailing list already know this, but yesterday whilst driving me home from the airport, my daddy told me that he’d been reading my webpage, and more specifically, the numbers page. That made me feel a little bit bad, because it’s pretty full on. But then again, Mum already knew most of it on account of me crying at her for half an hour straight down the phone one day, so she would have told Neil. We didn’t discuss any of the content, I think he just wanted me to know that he knew. My family are strange like that – my parents will know about things I get up to, but won’t talk about it with me. Like, when I was 14, Mum saw a whole lot of bottles in my cupboard, but didn’t mention it to me – she just told my sisters. Well, if Neil wants to talk about my numbers with me, he’s welcome to, but he’d be more embarrassed than me.

It’s so nice being home again. I was really fearfull, because Wellington has always been my sanctuary, the place I run away to, but it feels different now. However, when i was flying in, we flew over my house, and I remembered how much this city will always mean to me, so that’s good. I was babbling on the drive home – I’d only had one hour of sleep. And my flight from Sydney to Auckland was fucking great big hell on a stick. I was seated next to two unaccompanied minors – AGAIN. There were no less than five babies in the surrounding seats. And there was a rugby team somewhere chanting away. But Brad met me at Auckland airport, holding up a big sign that said “TIQUERO!” so I just laughed my head off. We went and sat in an outside Macdonalds and had a good old catch up, after checkign my stuff in (airports make me cry). He told me all the auckland gossip, and what had been happening on Shortland Street. I told him what was going to happen on Home and Away. We played song association. We talked about Creed. It was great. He had to go at two, taking my dutyfree and sleeping bag, but he left me my teddy bear, cellphone and Geri Halliwell book, all of which I’d been missing like mad. When I was in Melbourne the first night, I went to bed and I was like “awwww I don’t have my bear!” so Anji tossed me a teddy bear of Timmy’s to sleep with instead. It so big that it was fatter around than the boy I was used to sleeping with anyways.

On my last night in Sydney, Kini and I stayed over at Olivia’s. She designed me a new front page, as you may have already seen. I don’t really like lonestar, you know . Then we went out to dinner at a place called Roccoco on Oxford Street, which was lovely. It had crisp white linen and huge big global wine glasses. Thanks for dinner! Then Morgan went home, and we went to World Karaoke, to ressurect our former triumphs while still mostly sober. We took photos in the sticker machine. If my wallet was upstairs, I’d scan you in my ATM card with us stuck to it, but it’s not and I’m really lazy. I can actually remember what songs we sang, as opposed to the first time we were there. In non-chronological order, the list went like this:
Brittany Spears “Baby one more time”
Enrique Inglesias “Balimos” (COME ON TIQUERO, COME ON TIQUERO!)
The Platters “The Great Pretender”
Lauryn Hill “That Thing” (it went too fast, all we could sing was the chorus)
EMF “Unbelievable”
Def Lepard “Pour Some Sugar on Me”
Madonna “Cherish”
The Spice Girls “Goodbye”
“Come on Eileen”
Sinead O’Conner “Nothing Compares 2 U”
Cindy Lauper “Time After Time”
There were probably more, but I can’t recall them. The last song Kini and Olivia were really keen to do was “Sweet Child’o Mine”. I wasn’t so keen. But then I decided that I was being crap, and pathetic, and there was no reason to get freaked out because I CAN change the associations I have with certain songs, and so I decided that from now on, that song will be about being with Kini and Olivia and singing Karaoke instead of being 14 and terrified.

We got back to Olivia’s around 3am, and she and I played Tekken for a half hour. Then i had a nap for an hour before Kini and I got up and tiptoed around by candlelight, packing my shit. I felt very Pioneer by candle. We took a taxi to the airport, it was so lovely of Kini to come along. The guy who checked me in made me all paranoid, because he was laughing and going “Now Joanna…” and he paused for ages to laugh at the guy next to him, before going “are you SURE you’ve packed these bags and no one else has had access to them? Did you take your eyes off them for a second?” And it was very very early in the morning, and i’d had no sleep so I was like “ARRGGGGGGGGH what are you accusing me of????”. But eventually I made it onto the plane, after buying citron vodka to use up the last of my aussie money. I gave kini $4.25 so she can buy a happy meal.

Karen gave me a tiara too! That is very exciting. And she also gave me the new Douglas Coupland book, “Miss Wyoming” but I’m going to hold off reading it until I get back to Auckland. I’m reading a history of the classics world book right now. I wanna do a BA.

I got up at 3pm today, because there is no clock in my room. It was a lovely lovely sleep. Tomorrow I start at the MOE. That sucks big lots, but I guess it’s money. And I’m gonna convince Si to come and have lunch with me sometimes, and Tom too, so I’ll still have human contact. The criteria for working at the MOE is that you have to be really ugly and dowdy. I got in under a quota, i believe! So think of me tomorrow, in a room suffering from Sick Building Sydrome, opening two sacks of mail, sorting them by school type, stamping them, removing the insert C, entering their numbers into the computer, then sorting the insert c’s. Every day for two weeks. All that keeps me going is my walkman, and the anticipation of my lunchtime coffee. But when I get back to Auckland, I’m going to stop drinking coffee in favour of the sumptuous herb teas I brought back from Melbourne (that’s what made me paranoid going through customs). My daddy works for the Ministry of Agriculture, you see. I just asked him if I broke the agriculture laws and imported something funny, would there be a huge scandal and would Richard Prebble mention it in parliment? He said no, because he doesn’t work in the Biosecurity sector. Damn. Oh where was I? I don’t remember. Nevermind.

Jeb gave me crack for my birthday. Wahoo!

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