Domesticated and stuff

My house is filled with the scent of oatmeal* chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven and the fridge is full of chocolate crackles. I forgot that ages ago I promised Kimpy some home-baking to sell at Craft 2.0, but she emailed me to remind me, luckily. I must remember to tell her tomorrow that she must give freebies to Martha and Sue because of all the hard work that they’ve done. Although of course, the beauty of the interweb is that I won’t have to actually tell anyone, since they’ll all read it here first. After I meet Kimpy tomorrow, I think that’s everyone in Wellington that I would have met (yes, EVERYONE. Not just the people on the interweb who hang out in the same communities as me), except for Homeperm, so more stalkage might be in order.

I wish my face mask would hurry up and dry so that I could put on my glasses and watch Watch This Space a little clearer. But my skin has gone all haywire, because apparetly I need yet another reminder that I’m due a bleed, because apparently the glassy tits, phantom stomach pains and intense grumpiness is not enough (this sentence is mostly for Peti, who thinks all I write about is my period. And yet her pussy is mad about me). I appreciate that this is not particularly interesting entry, but it can’t all be drunken harbour swims can it? Particularly not after that cold snap. So instead I will tell you about how astonishingly clean and tidy our hall is, after I spent a very long time taping modem cords up one wall and down the other, and coiling their remains inside crates, and ripping up old boxes for recycling, and crating up a big box of my Opa’s classical records that had spilt out. Incidently, does anyone want to buy some classical vinyl? Anji still hasn’t put them on trademe. Let me know if you’re vaguely interested and I’ll have a dig through and see what’s actually there.

I met someone else at work today who remembered me from the Embassy in Tokyo which is weird cos it would have been a good 12 years ago, and I’d like to think I looked a little different. But I suppose there’s my dad connection too. And this particular person probably works with my Arch Nemisis – the girl with the same name as me. My manager is away at a conference in Germany now. A colleague emailed me to ask me about myspace. Good times. Meanwhile I picked up Lani at 10pm last night, and apparently her workmates were there til 3am. I think I’m glad to be in the part of the Ministry that I’m in as opposed to where she’s at. Yes.

I’m apprehensive about spending the whole weekend with my family in Martinborough for the food and wine festival. I don’t think that I will get enough personal space, and that’s going to be quite dangerous. I must remember to take my pills. And also to take them with me. I get negligent on weekends and then pay the price on Mondays and Tuesdays. But maybe I will get lucky and win the bedroom by myself. Perhaps. Anyways, now my face has peeled off, and my cookies are bagged, and Lani has gone to bed so I can resume watching Grey’s without getting grumpy about her talking through it. So now I will bid you adieu. And apologise again for the boringness of this entry. Perhaps I will up the drama tomorrow.

* Well, turns out that what I thought was a bag of rolled oats was whole-wheat flour, so there’s about a half a cup of rolled oats, a packet of instant oatmeal and a mini box of Kellog’s Sustain in the cookies instead.

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