August 25, 2000

Friday August 25th, 2000

The “previously on Dawson’s Creek” was just running when I heard loud banging at our side door, so I sprang up to let Kate M in. I hadn’t been expecting her – I figured I’d be watching it alone since all the other kids were at work and Maree was babysitting, but it was really cool that she turned up. Especially since she brought me the new blue crispy m&ms. So we watched Dawson’s and talked about first kisses. She said she wanted Pacey as her bit on the side, and I said I wanted him as my bit on the side too. She pointed out that I didn’t need a bit on the side, I just need a bit, but I was like “no no, I only want a side serving right now thanks”. Except of course, I’d make an exception for Pacey. Or Robbie Williams, neither of whom are scrawny, bi and issued. So I’m happy my tastes are changing. They may be bad boys, but they wouldn’t need me to take care of them. So yeah, after those discussions, we watched The Princess Academy again – well, she hadn’t seen it, and we still had the tape. It was cool. I’d thought that I’d have to go and pick up Brad again from work, but his boss dropped him home, so that was cool.

But of course, my day didn’t start at 7.30pm. No no, I was up real early – well, just before ten anyways – I accidently slept in a little longer than I’d intended to, so I was still in the shower when Maree let herself in. At least I wasn’t still in bed though, so I didn’t have to suffer the same old joke. I tried to dress vaguely PRy, but in my case that just meant wearing a shirt with buttons. I am so scruffy looking. My mother never used to let me wear white because I’d always get it dirty. One day, I would love to get a makeover and be all neat and clean and tidy and not scruffy. But it’d last about five minutes. I’m a mucky little kid. Even if I am twenty/keep thinking I’m nineteen still.

So yeah anyways, we put some petrol in my car car, and headed off West, to investigate possible venues for the Graduation dinner we’re organising. Well, I guess it’s more end-of-year than Graduation, because we graduate in April. But we’re done by the end of October. Eeek! But umm yeah, moving on. So with Maree’s skillful direction, we ended up in Henderson, which was actually where we wanted to be, and we went to some place called ummm Fullers Winery, I think it was. I was a bit worried at first that it seemed kinda ratty, but the thing is that its hall has a canopy of grape vines, which will apparently be in full flower at the end of October, and that will just be very cool. That place will be $25 a head for a (boring) buffet, which we figure is a do-able price – so if we hire buses and a dj, tickets should be about $35 maximum, and we think people would pay that. Just for a reality check, we went past Sky City on the way home and picked up a brochure. The cheapest meal rate we could get was $40 a head, for some truely delicious sounding food, admittedly – but then there was also the $1500 cost to hire the room. Oh, and additional entertainment hireage stretched up to $8000 for some Broadway Band. We laughed, and Maree filed away the brochures with her PR shit.

After lunch (eggplant dip is my new hummus) I went to bed and stayed there until like 3pm, when Bradley came home. Only I didn’t realise he was home, and he still had his walkman on, so he didn’t hear me come out of the toilet either, so we both screamed when we saw each other in the hall. Not cos we’re hideously ugly or naked or anything, but because we were startled, okay?

Brad’s car’s at the garage so I had to drop him off at work for 6pm. This meant I had to tape Home & Away. Now, I would not normally do such a thing, but I thought it was going to be the wedding episode, where Sally and that guy get married. And all these former cast members had come back, and it was just looking spectacular…. but no, no wedding. I must watch on Monday. Oh dear, I really am trajic, aren’t I? I think, to paraphrase Dawson’s Creek, I need to find my Northern Star – the thing that guides and orientates me. I used to think it was writing. And then I wanted to believe it was love, but that was way off base. And now – I dunno. I don’t seem to be passionate about anything but lip gloss and bed linen. Maybe it could be writing again. But judging by the stack of Sunday Star Times Story Contest entry forms that are piled up on my desk with nothing attached to them, maybe not.

Cool man, I like this whole starting the story in the middle then backtracking business. Means I’m done quicker than I thought I would be. I could maybe even throw in a little filler. But I dunno if I want to. I might go and inspect my chest in the mirror though. Except of course, it’s too dark to see anything. I was wondering if my bruise has shown up yet – I’m still reaaaaaaaal sore from Clayton ramming into me. But I don’t think there’s a bruise, just pain. I was hoping that Leigh was going to be online, because I am so craving some more Alex Llyod. Damnit, WHY didn’t I go to Gomez? I’m dumb.

“I want to see you in your natural habitat” – scary boy!

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