Archive for December, 2002

Pink? Punk?

Published
by
Robyn
on December 31, 2002
in LJ and Observatory
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Apparently when Molasses was sold and became Aqua Velvet, none of the staff was kept. So the head coffee guy started his own coffee place. It’s located down the alley between Right Up My Alley and the ever-excellent GAg. There’s no menu board, just an espresso machine. So I went up there and ordered a takeaway latte and - oh my God - it was made in a normal-sized latte cup, not the usual big-ass bowl o’ latte that someone has become the way that lattes are served in New Zealand. There was no price list and the dude said I should just pay whatever I think a latte is worth. I gave him $2.50, but in retrospect I think I should have given him $3.00. It was a good latte.

I’m going to Hammo for New Years. There’s going to be a barbecue and beers, which is a good way to celebrate. Damn, I’ve spent the last month being all like “OMG! I will be spending New Years Eve on my own! No one loves me!!!” etc. So now I can officially tell myself to STFU.

I still haven’t figured out how to not scare guys, but I’m working on it. More pink, perhaps?

Baybee.

Published
by
Robyn
on December 29, 2002
in LJ and Music
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I bought “Justified” from The Warehouse in Hamilton. I would have supported one of the incredibly cool independently owned record stores such as Big Tones, or maybe Tracs, but The Warehouse was cheapest - $29.95 vs $34.95.

I took the case up to the music counter to get the disc. There were two girls working at that counter. One of them was like, “OMG! We should listen to this one next! I woke up with that song in my head!” and the other one was trying to be all cool and was like, “Justin Timberlake tries to be like Michael Jackson”. So I was like, “Yeah, but he does it better than Michael Jackson does these days.”

I paid for the CD and lingered in the nearby women’s clothing section while the girls played “Like I love you”. All around me people were subtly moving to the beat. A Warehouse employee was sorting out underwear and putting it on a rack. I heard her singing along.

It was joy.

This is suburban re-invented

Published
by
Robyn
on December 29, 2002
in Biography and LJ
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(I promise I’ll shut up about Justin Timberlake soon, ok?)

This is what happens when you get three women together who are or have recently been pregnant: they talk about pregnancy stuff (motherhood really does mean mental freeze). Then they get drunk (except for the pregnant one) and they talk about regular stuff and for a while things are like they were when we were 18.

“You’ll be next, Robyn!” they say. Jesus. I hope not.

So we were going around bars trying to find one that had a decent amount of people (no one sticks around in Hamilton at this time of year). There was one bar that usually is a really good live music venue, but instead had an old drunk bogan lady sitting by the bar. We played a game of pool while Incubus and Blindspott were playing on the bar’s stereo. Still searching for a crowd, we went to one bar and there seemed to be a pretty good vibe there. There was an ok covers band and the crowd looked cool. I was at the bar about to buy a beer when the others decided that the bar was “too young” and that we should move on to another bar. Oh my God.

So we went to The Bank and the DJ was playing the greatest hits of the ’80s and ’90s. Occasionally there’d be a song from the last couple of years (but it wasn’t often). But by then I’d had enough beers that I actually got excited when “Groove is in the heart” was played.

But there was a bright spot in the middle of it all: the DJ played “Like I love you”. “Oh my God,” I squealed. “I love Justin Timberlake! I want him to marry me!” At that moment a drunk dude decided that my friend and I needed his company, but then my friend finished her beer and went off to the bar, leaving me maniacally dancing to Mr Timberlake with this lame drunk guy. It was spectacular.

I finally relented and bought “Justified” today. The idea being that eventually I’ll get it out of my system. But I dunno. It’s been over a year since I first got into Nsync and that’s showing no sign of fading. And how can you not love an album with a song called “(And she said) Take me now”?

I saw “Sweet Home Alabama”. I like how the heroine rejects the big phat diamond ring in favour of the dirty, muddy swamp.

Viva el revolucion!

Published
by
Robyn
on December 28, 2002
in Biography and LJ
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In a perfect world, the ugly hodogs would be the ones finding the golden Craig David CDs.

Fashion Tip: If you are fat, you should not wear black mesh clothing. By fat I’m not talking about medical definitions. I mean fat as in “OMG, I ate two muffins. I am such a fat cow!” - the internal body police. Don’t wear black mesh. It never looks good on fat girls.

I’m going to Hammo tonight. I’m going to hang out with a bunch of girls I went to school with. Only they’re not not girls anymore - they’re mothers. Not “baaaad mutha” mothers, but “got pregnant, had a kid” mothers. I’m the odd one out.

Is it better to make a lot of varied new years resolutions and end up maybe only sticking with one or two, or to make only a few resolutions, but to make the effort and stick with them? Or should we just forget about resolutions and start a revolution?

OMG! The Justin Timberlake is on TV! So, so, so hot.

Set the tone

Published
by
Robyn
on December 27, 2002
in LJ and Music
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* It’s interesting how The Vines CD - which normally has a green cover, with a hippyish design involving green vines - has a plastic overwrap with a different cover design. It’s black with red squiggles. Less hippyish and far more rock ‘n’ roll.

* I bought a cool shirt today. Actually, it’s only partially cool because I couldn’t get it in the size I wanted, but I don’t care. It may be my BDO shirt.

* I was just thinking about how people plan well in advance what they will wear to the Big Day Out. Ten years ago (shit) at the first BDO in Auckland, I remember all the alterno-boys showing up with blue and green food colouring in their hair. That was also in the days before cheap cell phones, so when I got separated from my friend during Head Like A Hole, I just had to wander around for a couple of hours before I happened to find her. Things were smaller back then, only two stages, no dance music tent. That was also when “smart drinks” were big (and about three years before energy drinks showed up). I had two and I don’t think I got any smarter.

* The Alt Dot show on M2 needs to change. It seems bogged down by all that dreary indie music that is too busy either a) trying to be like Radiohead or b) trying to be artistic and serious, that it forgets about being not-boring. Like, if M2 want people to watch it (more viewers = more expensive advertising rates = less of those adult chatline ads), then they need to stop sending people to sleep at 2.45 am.

* Actually, I know that M2 has an anti-pop policy, but it’d be nice to see some good pop videos. I mean, I know it’s nice to diss pop and use words like “manufactured” and “soulless”, but there’s a lot of pop that isn’t shit. I want to see the new Justin Timberlake video so much more than I want to see a video of a guy playing his guitar, hanging his head, singing in monotone.

To the bridge

Published
by
Robyn
on December 27, 2002
in Biography and LJ
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One takeaway latte, made by the bass player in one of my favourite bands of all time. So now everything is ok. Cranky-ass bitch? She’s gone. I’m happy and inspired now!

Raggiz:

1. Browsing around Raglan Dealers brings up all sorts of dilemmas. Should I buy the collection of bridge scoring pads and folders? Or what about an old cigarette tin? Or maybe I should get those leather shorts?

2. There used to be a cafe called Molasses. It was sold and the new owners have called it the Aqua Velvet Ballroom. This is troublesome for various reasons. First, naming a cafe after Aqua Velva, that cheap aftershave, is kinda weird. And it’s not a cafe anymore, it’s now a ballroom. Except I doubt that there would ever be a ball held there. It’s like ballrooms in hotels that only ever seem to house conferences and motivational speakers. But the worst bit is that they’ve taken down the cool metal Molasses sign and replaced it with a couple of boring painted signs with the new name.

Also: I hate TV news. Tonight there was an item about a question on “Who wants to be a millionaire” that had two possible correct answers. OMG OMG OMG!!! I know that news is typically slow at this time of year, but, really.

From tha chuuurch to tha palace

Published
by
Robyn
on December 26, 2002
in Biography and LJ
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1. A china bowl with lid shaped like a cauliflower. Possibly the most hideous gift I have ever received.
2. A wire basket. Quite nice, of use as a fruit bowl.
3. A calendar.

And that’s it. That’s my Christmas booty for this year. No books, no CDs, no underwear (and I would actually have liked some new underwear). No Justin Timberlake.

I’m supposed to be getting something else from my parents. I said I wanted a printer, but now I’m not sure. I don’t think I’d use a printer all that much. New underwear - now that would be useful. Yeah, this is what it’s like being on a low income.

Christmas started to get boring when my cousins started having kids. Aunts and uncles became grandparents, so Christmas stopped involving going to visit relatives. It’s just another family dinner. Pass the broccoli. I toasted “from the church to the palace.”

Mum: What does that mean?
Dad: Robyn just made it up.
Me: No, I didn’t.

Sometimes I envy those families where Christmas Day ends in tears. Uncle Garry gets drunk and makes a pass at someone’s girlfriend. Auntie Kim has too much to drink and flashes her boobs. Gran falls asleep. Ross stands on Conner’s brand new toy and breaks it. It ends with someone screaming “you’ve ruined Christmas for everyone!”. But then, maybe people in situations like that would be happy to swap for one of my boring Christmases.

Robyn pulled a pistol on Christmas

Published
by
Robyn
on December 25, 2002
in Biography and LJ
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Hey, you know how near New Year’s there’s always some hilarious person who makes a list of new year’s resolutions and suggests giving up smoking but (ha ha) if you don’t smoke (ha ha), start smoking and then quit!! Ha ha ha!

So that’s what I’m doing. Only it’s possibly the dumbest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. Do you know how much it sucks to be suffering from nicotine withdrawal? Like, it sucks a lot.

See, I’m at my parents place and I don’t want to be all “d’you mind if I smoke?” Cos shit like that would make my momma cry and it’s not really work going through the “mom, dad: I smoke” when I’m just going to be quitting in a week. So I’m just tolerating it. I should have got some gum, or the patch, or, or, or maybe I should have just not started smoking in the first place, Yeah, that would have been the best thing.

bFM sent an email mourning Joe Strummer but somehow felt it was necessary to remind people to buy a b-card. I thought that was a little insensitive. Can’t commerce be kept out of stuff like that? Especially at this time of year.

I got the coolest birthday present from my bro in England. It’s a book called “Rainbow Climbing High” by Mike Anderiesz. It’s a subversive but loving look at “Rainbow”, the British children’s TV program. It’s totally perfect and has plenty of dirty old adult jokes hidden amongst the Bungle-in-a-tutu pictures. I literally laughed my arse off. I’m hoping I’ll get a new arse for Christmas.

Clarification

Published
by
Robyn
on December 24, 2002
in Biography and LJ
. 0 Comments

The person referred to in 20/12/2003 as “that guy from that band” and the person referred to in 23/12/2002 as “my new favourite guitarist from my new favourite band” are not necessarily the same person, ok?

But Santa knows what I want for Christmas, ya.

Sentiment, sediment

Published
by
Robyn
on December 24, 2002
in Biography and LJ
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There was a big ol’ box at the post office. Inside it were the following items:

* Two wooden salt and pepper shakers shaped like cats, complete with googly eyes. When you tip the pepper cat up, it makes a noise like a cat would make if it was really sick. The salt one doesn’t make it, probably because it’s broken.

* A wooden mortar and pestle. Which is cool, but wood doesn’t seem like the right material for a mortar and pestle to be made out of. Possible solution: use the bowl for pot pourri and give the pestle to a special friend for Christmas but pretend it’s an exotic sex toy.

* A wooden box with a blue tile lid. It’s quite nice. I’m not sure what to put in it. If I had some cigars I could keep them in it. But I don’t have any cigars. Perhaps I should buy some?

* “Incidental Furniture” a book published in 1953 about how to make all those incidental pieces of furniture around the home. I think I need to make a radio cabinet.

* “The Autograph Man” by Zadie Smith. I’ve been wanting to read this. Hooray!

I had dinner at the OLC with Dylz, LL Cool R, Jakmes, and that other guy. Actually, I just made up all those nicknames five seconds ago. I don’t actually call them by nicknames. Sometimes Dylan is called Trixie McLicious.

Dylzno gave me a CD with a video selection of me talking about the goddess. It was at the Basque Park festival in early 2001 and my hair is short and blonde. It’s quite funny, and Dylzno has threatened to shrink it down to a small size so I can have it up on my web site.

Finally, I drove down Franklin Road. There were so many people driving down there to check out the Christmas lights that traffic was crawling. But it was ok. the slow traffic meant I could see everything. There were heaps of people walking along the footpath too. The locals were hanging out on their front porches, someone had a stand selling coffee (yeah, yeah, it’s becoming commercialised, totally selling out. T-shirts next year, perhaps?), but there was a really good vibe to it. A song by Nesian Mystik came on the radio and everything felt right, like this is what Christmas in Auckland in 2002 is meant to be like.