30 November, 2002

I think I’m menopausal, cos I am full of hot flushes. Although the fact that I’m currently bleeding might suggest otherwise. Oh well.

Today I went to Rumba! It was hilarious, and also super choice because of the following reasons:

  • I went with Brad and Maree, both of whom I haven’t seen in far too long and both of whom I wish that I could see more of.
  • We got there in time to see Abs play, and he was funny, and needs to smoke less pot so that he can have more breath to sing/rap properly amongst all his dancing. And all the girls at the front chanted for him to take off his shirt, and he didn’t, and he did 5ive songs, which made us all Garland nostalgic.
  • Che Fu fucking rocked. He did lots of fat improvs rather than just playing his singles, which was choice. And his little kid was running all over the stage, and you know I’m a sucker for little brown babies.
  • During Che, I started to feel all funny, like I was dizzy, and then there were hot flushes running all over my body, and everything felt strange and my vision got a little blurry, and i started to freak out, suspecting htat I was having another acid flashback, but I just kept smiling, and reminded myself that it wasn’t that crowded, and maybe my vision was just funny from looking at the big screens and then the stage, thus fucking my depth’o perception, and that I was probably dehydrated, and eventually I remembered that cipramil does occasionally give me random dizzy spells anyways, so I calmed down some.
  • It was fabulous to see lots and lots of people getting down for Che, but the loudest cheering of the day was when they put a pashing couple up on the big screen, and all of Western Springs was roaring until the couple finally looked up and saw themselves and had the grace to laugh and clap.
  • (Sorry Katie but…)Natalie Imbruglia has almost as little charisma and presence and talent as Atomic Kitten. She was awful. We sat off to the side and ate mediocre food instead, laughing at people walking past, such as two girls who bumped into each other and they were both wearing the same top, and oh lordy did they give each other dirty looks.
  • Mazzy went home then cos she had to drive to Hamilton, and so me and Brad went to the main stadium bit again, and had long-trying-to-spot-KateH style cellphoneness, but eventually, we got to see her and say hi and get some goss, and hugs, and then she left, and we went into the crowd to see Bic Runga.
  • When she’d just started playing, I noticed a small cluster of little girls ahead of us all excitedly grouped around a guy who Brad said was the singer from Taxiride. They were takign his picture, and then some of them walked off with him – DODGY James Reid blowjob styles. Dirty dirty dirty.
  • Bic! Oh my god! Oh my god oh my god oh my god. She was AMAZING. Wow, she made it all look so easy. I am madly [in love with her now, and I gotta get her second album, and I thought maybe I could send it but no, and yeah, she was just fucking amazing and gorgeous and beautifl, and then Brad, who was wearing his glasses unlike me, pointed out that Milan was playing drums and singing backup vocals and I almost puddled right there on the grass. Wow. Yeah, go Bic.
  • We’d promised Bo that we’d watch Shaggy but since Pink canceled, we decided we’d leave on the high Bic note instead. I had a stupid big grin plastered over my face after all. And we’d got to complain lots about how we’d paid good money for this and then stop and go “oh wait a minute, we didn’t, oh ho ho ho, brilliant!”. Tom’s calling me a hep Auckland Socialite right now, and maybe he’s right, cos thinking about it, many’o my friends never pay for anything that they do cos it’s all about the connections. (Sometimes I say it’s all about the Benjamins Baby, but, well, that’s another story or four altogether isn’t it?)So yeah, that was brilliant, and then Brad and I came back here and I made more Sangria with Bo and Leo (last night we each bought a bottle of bad red wine cos it was only $5 adn this makes it far more drinkable) and got changed and chilled adn showed Brad bad 13 year old angsty stuff I’d uncovered in my room clean the other night (although that clean was kinda interupted when the lass that i pashed a couple’o weeks ago showed up with Bo and stood in my door and said “are those my shoes? oh no they’re yours” all bashful adn then ran away and I was like “????”) and then we went to Lumiere. I love Lumiere. I took back my drink cos it was flat, adn they gave me a fresh new one all politely so I can continue to recommend it. Mmmm Skky Vodka.

    What else? Oh, my therapist yelled at me yesterday! Yelled at me! Or rather, she shouted at me. It was funny, she said later she’d never ever done that before. The explanation for it is that I was talking about how I think the reason why I tend to hate having people stay with me for more than a night is that I constantly feel on edge, because I believe that people have an expectation of me that I’ll entertain them, and that being an entertainer is a role that I play just so that people will like me, and one of hte only people that I don’t feel like I have to play the Entertainer Role for is Fatty Si, and I can be myself around him but I don’t know who “myself” reallyu is and maybe I should ask him, and then Kalpana went “NO! Don’t do that!” and her point is that I really have to figure out for myself who I am, which is basically the whole point’o my therapy sessions, because I think I’ve realised that my chief problem is that I don’t know who I am and therefore I can’t know where I am going. But Kalpana did go on to contradict herself a little bit when I expressed to her a desire to have someone else photograph me a lot, so that I can see what they’re seeing when they look at me, and she agreed that might be good. Like, I’m not talking about casual snapshots. You may have seen all my webcam photos – well, I took them all, and so I got to make sure that my hair looked good, and I minimised my double chin, and there was lots of my eyes and all that, so basically I think I look good in most of those photos, or as pretty as can be being me, but then in other people’s snapshots I generally look terrible, and it’s just so weird, the contrast, because normally, other people might say I’m pretty (or beautiful, if they wanna cause me problems) but I really have terribly low self esteem when it comes to my body although I try not to focus on that, because that’s a guaranteed way of making myself even less attractive. My point was, if you’re like, a photographer or something, you should take some photos of me. Thank you. You’d be helping a crazy lady.

    Blah blah blah. See how I’m all “Kalpana says…” when she tells me off for reiterating other people’s opinions too much? It’s a catch22.

    Oh, did we talk about my housing situation yet? I don’t think we did. Ammy and I are looking for a flat together, and anyone who knows anything about Auckland is probably aware that the housing situation is FUCKED right now. Bleh. Bleh bleh bleh. I hate househunting. Also, Clay and I will be breaking up after almost four years together. This is progress.

    That’s probably it eh, with some inclusion of hte killer migraine that I’ve had for a week that’s meant that I can’t even wank cos when I come close to orgasm, the most godawful throbbing headsplitting pain kicks in from my neck and radiates out to my temples – EVERY TIME. And even my closely guarded codiene stash doesn’t help. Grrrr. It’s either my new glasses – but I hope not – or that old prosgeteron problem that I got when I first started on Estelle35, which hopefully will go away now that i’ve finally got my bleed and can start taking it again (i’ve been off it for a couple’o months since I didn’t pick up my prescription in time, which you oughta remember if you pay me enough attention). Or maybe it’s OOS, which isn’t cool at all, given that I’m now The Computer Guy at work. I’m rereading all my Narnia books instead’o masturbating since I couldn’t sleep in the lead up to my bleed (as usual), but even though they’re great, it’s no substitute. I’ve just got the last battle to go in ‘The Last Battle’ and then I dunno what I’ll read. I have some more books from Karen – she gave me a fucking great book called “Negative Space” in which I felt much like the main character, except that I don’t have a brother that i’ve had a slightly dodgy relationship with. But it did make me think that maybe I should become a life model, like the girl in the book, after all, there’s plenty’o me to draw. But that thought mostly had to do with the whole “image of myself” trains of thought that i’ve had to think lots about lately due to the whole trying to find myself process. So don’t worry, I won’t be taking off my clothes for the general public any time soon. Oh, unless you happen to be at parties at KateM’s dad’s place anytime soon and I end up going skinnydipping, again. Nevermind.

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