Duet

Tuesday July 2

You have to excuse me if i sound a little shitty while I write this – I’m in the lounge and Clayton is watching ‘Duets’. Yes, the Gwynnie movie. I know he has to do it for his work and all, but still. Oh yeah, and as to why I’m in the lounge, well, my landlady rang me up at 8am today to tell me that I was getting carpet laid between noon and two, so I must move all my personal stuff out of my room, but leave my furniture. Righto. She rang me later at work to confirm that I’d done it, and I had – well, Bopha did it for me cos I had to go to work, and Bopha is a sweetie and everything. I got home to find a note from the carpet layers saying we needed to move the furniture out and vacuum before they’d lay carpet. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCKETY FUCK FUCK FUCK. Grrr. I was txting Brad angry things about my landlady, and he said I should put on a bear suit and maul her, and so I asked him if he’d do it for me, and he said sure, if I could get her to dress up as a salmon. Heh.

Work today was good, I did the clippings, wrote some stuff, killed some time. There were mini scandals, but nothing to do with me. I did maths! With a calculator and a ruler and everything, figuring out most efficient ad spend. I drew pictures in my report and impressed everyone. So that was exciting. I really must remember to take my muff in to work, cos my hands just about freeze off on the way home. Also, what, you think I didn’t see you lurking in that doorway? I may be blind without my glasses but not THAT blind.

KateH came over after work and we had Thai food together, sitting on the sofa together like the old days, although she couldn’t stay for travel.co.nz which she shoulda! So after she left, I went over to KateM’s instead, and met her new flatmate who was very nice, and kinda intriguing. Ligen ligen ligen. Heh, special personal message to you after all.

OH! Hot gossip scandal I discovered sometime recently…. ummm nah, I won’t break it yet. I’ll hold it in for a while. However, I am hoping that the person it involves will hurry up and get his ass back into the country, or how am I ever going to get laid again?

KateH complained that I hadn’t written up my party yet, but we agreed that by now it’s too late. Suffice to say, it was fucking cool, except for the landlady showing up cos she’d had “complaints” (plural) about the noise – of course our fucking neighbours couldn’t have come and knocked on our door and asked us to turn it down, oh no. And also, why are all Englishmen obsessed with nakedness? And how can people turn up empty handed and expect to be fed copious amounts of liquor at any occasion other than a 21st? But BALLOONS! And my ladies! And when I got up on Sunday, Bopha had already done half the dishes and cleaning cos she felt so bad about getting too stoned to talk. ANd then the next day there was the soccer, and Brazil won, and YAY. Yeah. That was all the good shit.

Dialogue just now: Me “So, who’s playing tonight?” Bopha, about to cry “don’t Jo! You’re evil! Absolutely evil. That’s the bad shit right there”. Soccer withdrawl has set in already. That’s why it’s okay that I’m going to Welly tomorrow.

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