Monday November 26th, 2000

7am, I’m lying happily in bed, fast asleep when all of a sudden Maree comes in my room and jumps on my bed. Who gave her a key to our house??? Oh yeah, that was me. Whoops.

Oh, just before I go any further, Helen Urban – email me!. I have no contact details for you, girl. Ta.

Today I eventually got my shit together and went into tech to burn a copy of my cd rom, and put my other stuff together, but the goddam fucking lab was being rehauled so I couldn’t. I went to another lab to print out my cv, but of course in that lab, the printer was un-networked. Grrrrr! Very annoying. So I went home, then went to the bank to pay rent, and did the vege shopping instead. Vegtamables.

Later in the evening, Brad and I went over to Maree’s to watch “3rd Watch” because she’s being The Nanny Named Fran again, and couldn’t leave the kids. Brad went back home afterwards to eat dinner, so Maree and I sat around her kitchen table drinking tea and feeling like terribly old adults, me reading Christian magazines while she talked to James on the telephone. The rest of Garland came back with Brad – well, Jeremy Clayton and Kara anyways, and we played Postits. Clayton was Dirk Diggler, and we all guffawed mightily when he asked if he was known for just one thing. It felt strange to have the whole posse there, but to not actually be @Garland.

Kate B officially moves her stuff out on Thursday. Yesterday it was a year since Simon told me he was moving out, thus setting in place a chain of events that has been….interesting… to say the least. Well. I’ve been doing pass-throughs of her room to retrieve stuff that belongs to me – makeup and jewellery and towels. She gave me five boxes of condoms from Family Planning, because yeah, I really need them right now. They’re extra thick ones, which Jeremy told me are like gumboots. Nice.

I don’t know how to cook Roast Turkey, but we’re doing Roast Turkey for Thanksgiving Lunch on Sunday. It was going to be dinner, but Miss World’s on that night, so we have to watch that!

I haven’t written up my crazy night on Saturday, have I? Well, should I do that now? Possibly yes, yes I should. Okay then. It was Andy’s 21st, so me Clay and Brad drove out somewhere way way west in my car – I was happy to drive, because as the invitations said, by request there was no alcohol but a delicious fruit punch would be served. It was in a sports hall, which was a little newer than many sports halls, so that was cool. Andy’s mother’s kept the most amazing records of him growing up – writing down all his funny quotes and recording soundbytes of him ever since he was two. Listening to her speech, I was just thinking “awwwwww, i want a baby so i can follow them like this too!”. Incidently, Kate Benton dreamt that I was actually three years younger, and also pregnant with my ex’s kid. Thanks Kate!

Anyways, lots and lots of Andy’s friends and parents and church members made speeches. Brad and Nigel did one together, and played the “Big Tittie Monday” song Andrew wrote to promote Ryan&Jarrod’s Big Tittie Monday radio show – I dunno if the Salvation Army members fully appreciated it for the true piece of genius it is. I’m so going to get a copy of it. I must make a multimedia section for my site – I can also put in the video footage of Kate M talking about my horrible death, and oooh the video of Dancing Simon. Heheehe, I love that video so much! Anyways, eventually all the speeches were over, and we’d even prayed a little (which I thought was kinda nice actually, although when I prayed it wasn’t to any religion or to any being that I feel I know) and we all ate far too much sugary food. Andy wanted to dance then, so naturally, the Gang was called on to start off the dancing, so we did. Sugar sugar sugar is a mad thing – I even ended up dancing a jig, or trying to anyways. Nigel stagedived off a chair and we caught him. It was also nice that it was good wholesome alcohol free fun too, for a change. Not that it’d last though…..

Okay, I’m bored now. Tomorrow I will write up motorway chases, banging on windows, bathroom conversations, long walks, Brendon Lovegrove talking about my clit, barking, and the casino.

“am I famous for just one thing?”

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