But perhaps that piece should have been titled “Why I don’t drink coffee yet“, because within a couple of years, I had become a coffee drinker. One of those people.

I was one of those people who took photos of swirly latte patterns

The blame lies firmly with Starbucks. One day after work in 1998, my friend Dylan and I ventured into deepest darkest Parnell to check out the fancy new American cafe that served coffee in those white paper cups, just like in the movies. I ordered a grande decaf non-fat latte with hazelnut syrup. Grande because it was the biggest size, decaf because I had to get up early in the morning, non-fat because I was a girl, and hazelnut syrup because I was even more of a girl.

Starbucks was the gateway drug. Soon I’d pared down my beverage of choice to just a latte, and got it from better cafes than Starbucks. It felt good to go to the cafe around the corner from work, get a coffee and mooch around with the cup. Yeah, I’m a grown-up. Glad you noticed. I have a job *and* a cup of coffee, which I am drinking. Because I’m a grown-up.

I was addicted to caffeine. I figured this out when I started getting headaches if I stayed in bed for too long on the weekends. A few times I tried to stop drinking coffee but the resulting headache felt like someone was kicking my skull from the inside. I couldn’t handle that. Once I had to leave a party because the withdrawal headache had turned me into a vile whingebag. Or at least that’s what I blamed it on.

I got to know baristas at the local cafes and coffee carts that I’d go to. They’d remember my order, and we’d chat about the news of the day. My favourite barista was a fellow who worked at the Wellington railway station coffee cart. One day he mentioned he’d been working out with a new personal trainer and he was really seeing some definition coming through in his abs. He lifted up his t-shirt to demonstrate this. Oh, yes. You just don’t get that level of service at Starbucks.

I was right into the power combo of iPhone and coffee – taking photos in cafes. Oh look, the barista has swirled a heart shape on the top of my latte. I will take a photo, whack a vintage filter on it and call it art. Even a provincial cafe with a name like Aromas looks good with an Instagram filter.

I became a little obsessed with brewing methods, enough so to start reading CoffeeGeek.com (but not posting – I wasn’t that obsessed). I would visit local cafes that brewed coffee using devices like a syphon, the Chemex, or the fancy one that uses a gold filter. And none of these coffees were served in a takeaway cup, so it would force me to sit down and contemplate life, watch the world passing by, maybe write some poetry… only to get bored and just end up mucking around on my iPhone.

I'm not sure what to do with these now

Then a funny thing happened: I stopped drinking coffee.

When I came back from Japan in March, I stayed at my parents’ place for a couple of weeks. Initially I’d go down to a local cafe for a coffee, but one day I couldn’t be bothered. I accidentally went cold turkey.

The familiar headache came and went within a couple of days. I was feeling pretty pleased with myself for sticking it out, but then the awfulness came. I felt so ill. It was the classic “flu-like symptoms”. I was tired all the time, I couldn’t sleep when I wanted to, I was achy and just generally felt like the undead.

But that passed. I hauled myself off to Napier for a few days, got back into a regular sleep pattern and realised I’d finally made it out the other side. And I was surprised at how normal I felt in the post-caffeine world.

It was almost disappointingly normal. I felt a little bit let down because things generally didn’t feel any different to how they had felt on coffee. While I didn’t get the dramatic highs and lows of alertness any more and I could stay in bed on weekends for as long as I liked, everything else just felt normal.

But worse, being caffeine-free ushered in a whole new level of social awkwardness. If someone nicely offers to buy me a coffee, I can’t just say “No thanks”. I feel like I have to explain that I’m not deliberately rejecting their kind hospitality. And I probably explain too much, leaving the person wishing they’d never said anything in the first place. I’ll still meet someone “for a coffee”, though. It’s a useful shorthand.

Peppermint tea: it's ok

As yet, I don’t have a substitute drink to enjoy in a cafe. I once tried decaf but it tasted empty, and I have mixed feelings about herbal tea. Peppermint and camomile are ok, but everything else usually tastes like twigs dipped in Fanta. Coffee is so tied up with cafe culture (after all, café is the French word for coffee) that it seems completely wrong not to have a coffee in a cafe.

Because coffee is such an adult beverage, I feel like I’ve taken a step away from adult life, like someone’s who’s quit their job to pursue a career in clowning, crossed with someone doing a weird restrictive diet. Yeah, giving up coffee = Chuckles the Gluten-free Clown. It’s like I’m missing out on the secret fun adult coffee society, and I’m due to be exiled to the kids’ corner along with schoolgirls clutching giant hot chocolates and four-year-olds getting fluffies all over their face.

So now I’m left feeling like I have a coffee-flavoured void in my life that I need to fill. But with what? Reality TV? Nail polish? Ponies? I’m sure I’ll figure it out soon enough, but whatever it is, it will have to look good in Instagram photos.

A cafe, in happier times

The end of 2010 seemed like a good point to leave TVNZ, so I decided not to renew my contract for 2011. I had enough saved to live on for several months, so I figured I would have at least a more relaxed year, if not a whole year off, and maybe travel a bit and have some adventures.

Street art in Poplar Lane, now demolished

I went to Webstock, my first time as a proper attendee. It was uplifting and inspiring, especially Merlin Mann’s very moving talk on fear. Handy hint: if you have an iPhone and you don’t have a job or contents insurance, don’t accidentally drop your phone on the hard tiles at the Wellington Town Hall.

My post-Webstock buzz lasted three days, abruptly shoved out of the way by the awful Christchurch earthquake. I put my oodles of spare time to use, getting involved with the Christchurch Recovery Map web project.

From a rooftop bar in Harajuku

After Japan I paid a brief visit to Napier, where I explored the city as inspired by the Shell Guide to New Zealand. I discovered the Napier War Memorial Conference Centre, the disappearance of the boating lake, and the joyful universe of Trainworld.

Still with plenty of spare time, I created a new web project for myself – 5000 Ways to Love You. I’m reviewing every NZ On Air-funded music video I can get my hands on. So far I’m up to 1995. Revisiting the ’90s reminded me of music video trend for male shirtlessness in the early ’90s, with mixed results. Cheers to Morgan for hosting it!

And speaking of Morgs, I joined him, Ben and Dylan on the Discourse Weekly Show, New Zealand’s Best Podcast. It’s quite fun hanging out and talking about technology, television and corned beef with the dudes.

Over winter I had a four-month contract with the NZ Film Festival. I fulfilled a lifelong goal of writing a film note for the festival programme, but I watched too many films and something broke inside me. Seriously, since leaving the festival, I’ve seen two films: “Snark Night 3D”, which is not even good trash; and “Twilight: Breaking Dawn Part One”, which was utterly extravagant and glorious. I still like television, though.

Tea time at Hardware Société cafe

Over on Tumblr, I reviewed all 35 of Britney Spears’ music videos. I discovered that Britney’s videos often feature paparazzi, with frequent scenes of cameras getting all up in her face. She doesn’t usually get the guy, being left alone and lonely. But her last video ended with something of a happy ending at last. Yay, Britney.

Back in Wellington, I volunteered with NZ On Screen’s New Zealand On Screen display, an interactive history of New Zealand film and television, in a shipping container down by the waterfront. It was a fun experience. Lots of parents came in and showed their kids the Goodnight Kiwi clip, only to discover they had to also explain that in the olden days, television used to stop at night.

And somehow – and I’m still not entirely sure how this happened – I became fully embroiled in the fandom of John and Edward Grimes, aka Irish pop twins Jedward. I’ve never been part of a fandom before, so it’s quite exciting to finally, legitimately be involved in one. But maybe the best bit is discovering a really cool community of other older Jedward fans, many of whom are, curiously enough, former goths. I like Jedward. They make me smile.

I was interviewed in the Dominion Post for an article on New Zealand bloggers. The printed version featured a giant, quarter page photo of me and described me as a “content guru”, whatever that means. Most people only mentioned the photo, which is slightly annoying because I didn’t even take the photo. I just put some eyeliner on.

But photos I did take featured in Public Address’ new photoblog Capture. I’m a contributor along with talented photographers Jackson Perry and Jonathan Ganley. We weren’t sure how it would be received, but the PA community has taken to it with great enthusiasm.

A youth centre in Christchurch has no events to offer

On the job side of things, I’m still unemployed. A fistful of rejection emails reveals that perhaps I’m even less of a “content guru” than I had thought, as I don’t seem to be able to get work in the wonderful world of web content production at the moment. But, guys, I have bills to pay. I have a head full of ideas and not enough outlets for them. What’s a girl to do?

I expected an adventure in 2011 and I got one.

As for 2012, I’ll tell you one thing – the world is not going to end on 21 December because my 38th birthday is on 22 December.

Shibuya, Tokyo. Photo by Jon Ellis.

Rediscover the lost pleasures of nailpolish

Creamy fuschia. The secret is good cuticle condition.

I noticed that my Tumblr feed kept featuring photos of elaborately decorated fingernails, and then I read in Vogue that nailpolish is the new lipstick. This excites me. Back in the late ’90s, I was rather fond of the world of nailpolish, so I relished the opportunity to put my skills back to use. While I’m not steady-handed enough to paint little flowers or complex tartans on my nails, I can at least give them a nice solid colour from a $2 shop. And remember, always work with a window open or you will think you can do freehand flower designs but end up with something that looks like crudely drawn genitalia.

Learn the Beyonce “Single Ladies” dance

I’m not sure how this is going. I’ve never had dancing lessons, so it’s whole new world. I’ve learned a few moves, but not everything put together. Some of the steps are really easy, but others are much more complex and I’m not sure I can actually get my body to do some of that stuff. The hand-waving move, though, that’s easy. A few days ago I noticed a bunch of people on Twitter talking about having felt a minor earthquake in Wellington. I wondered why I hadn’t felt it. Then I remembered – I’d been dancing. It’s like a protective bubble surrounds me.

Bake cupcakes

Yay! I baked cupcakes. And I iced them with buttercream icing and roses and glitter and when I ate it, it got all over my face! Actually, this is a lie. Robyn doesn’t bake. I just told you that to make it interesting. I have baked cupcakes twice in my life: once in 1980, and again in 2006. Cupcakes always look better than they taste, they are hard to eat and – OMG – they are sooo ’00s.

Hang out in a shipping container down by the waterfront

A music video on my face.

It was a fancy shipping container. During the Rugby World Cup, the good people at NZ On Screen kitted out a couple of shipping containers down by the waterfront with a showcase of New Zealand film and television history. I worked as a volunteer, showing visitors how it all worked. The Goodnight Kiwi was a popular one, which led to parents explaining to their kids the outrageous concept of how TV used to end at night. It was a really fun experience, and I learned a valuable lesson: on a cold morning, there’s no better way to warm up than putting on a music video and having a dance.

Watch too many music videos

Oh hey, do you know about my other website 5000 Ways to Love You? I’ve set myself a mission to watch every NZ On Air-funded music video, or at least the ones I can track down. I’ve discovered many things about New Zealand’s history of music videos, including the ’90s trend for green-screen special effects, male shirtlessness and ladies in peasant blouses. Sometimes all three if you’re lucky.

And speaking of lucky, following on my 2010 Tumblr project to watch all 68 Madonna music videos, I’ve now moved on to the videographic oeuvre of Britney Spears for 2011. Some people are excited by this, but others – always guys with beards – have some half-arsed idea about Britney being a bit rubbish, which is just evidence that they’ve never been on a dancefloor with a girl when a Britney song has been played. It really is Britney, bitch.

Go to Melbourne

The fried brioche with passionfruit curd had me plotting ways to teleport the cafe back to Wellington.

I went there for a week in early September, and caught up with my bro (incredible dumplings), my cousin (showbiz gossip) and a friend (amazing tapas). I also visited the Heide Museum of Modern Art, which involved a train and a bus out to a Pakuranga-like suburb, but had an amazing collection. I was especially thrilled to see Jeffrey Smart’s Cahill Expressway painting, one of my faves. I also visited the National Gallery of Victoria, but honestly, I had a much more enjoyable experience at the local IKEA. But, ok, Melbourne was full of good food. My favourite brunch spot was a cafe called Hardware Societé. And I came to the realisation that I now love the 86 tram more than the 96.

Watch the Twilight films

I didn’t really pay much attention to the “Twilight” films, other than vaguely away that the cool-dude film kids thought they were awful, but other people were truly, madly, deeply in love with the world of “Twilight”. But since becoming emeshed in one particular fandom, I have become interested in other fandoms, the things that people become totally obssesed with and structure their lives around. I could have picked Justin Bieber or Harry Potter, but I’ve decided to start with “Twilight”. I’m really looking forward to experiencing the world of the girl and the beautiful glitter vampire.

Look for work

It’s weird. I’ve never formally looked for work before. In the past I’ve just kind of got jobs without any great effort from me. You know, networking and all that. But things seem different now. It’s either that there’s nothing that suits me in Wellington, or I’m maybe looking in the wrong direction. Something to do with web content in a sweary office would be ideal, but does that even exist anymore? What kind of job do you think I should do? All suggestions, serious or loltastic, are welcome.

In January I paid a visit to sunny Gisborne, exploring both the town and larger region. Gisborne feels like a cross between small New Zealand town and a tropical South Seas port town. It manages to be both glam and dinky, along with a fistful of magnificent scenery.

Learning from last year’s awful Sevens weekend experience, I had planning in advance, escaping to Christchurch for the weekend. This led some to believe that I had a SECRET BOYFRIEND in Christchurch (because why would anyone willingly go there otherwise?)

In March I saw the Cribs play, along with their new guitarist who used to be in that band that is quite good. Despite the audience being filled with iPhone-toting dads who were intent on capturing a blurry, grainy photo of their rock hero, the Jarman brothers and Mr Marr put on a good serious show.

Again this year I was involved with the 48HOURS film competition. It’s always thrilling to see the fresh teams disappear off into the Newtown night, only to reappear two days later in a state of weary, sleep-deprivation, but clutching their disks of cinematic gold, or part thereof.

As a judge I went to all the heats, and sat through several rool out-of-it-as films, like the Dirty Bird film and that one about the pole-dancing Olympic committee. And then there was Simon Peter’s film The Legend of Simon Pederson (NSFW. There’s a hilltop penis in it.)

My absolute fave film was the runner-up, The Wake Up. It’s a lovely romantic comedy, but also manages to be really stylish and with a great soundtrack and cool urban vibe. Yeah.

I accidentally appeared in the Dominion Post as a local woman who doesn’t want public transport costs to increase. This experience made me realise that lots of people still read the paper in its printed form, and that also people get really excited when they see someone they know in the paper. Best thing about it though, I ended up with a really moody urban portrait from it.

I needed a winter project and I found one – I watched every Madonna video and wrote about them on my Tumblr blog. Despite Madonna’s reputation as a constant reinventor of personal style, I discovered that she actually sticks with a number of styles that she knows works on her, just updating them for whatever’s in fashion. It’s always corsets, power suits and 1940s floral dresses.

In August, bleak midwinter, I jumped on the Cook Strait ferry and sailed over to the South Island. I discovered that the Interislander is like a floating bus depot, and that people who take the ferry are rather unlike people who fly.

From Picton, I took the TranzCoastal train down to Christchurch and – it turned out – I was lucky to be able to explore the city a month before the September earthquake that smashed my SECRET BOYFRIEND up a bit.

I contributed to Heyday’s Down To The Wire project, a brilliant website that looks at New Zealand’s web history. I pop up in 1996 and 1997 talking about the olden days of personal websites, back when the webs ran on a coal-powered steam engine.

In October, I paid a visit to my bro in Brisbane and explored a bit of Queensland, including a visit to Dreamworld, which after seeing Inception was a bit of a disappointment. (I’m about halfway writing about my adventures here, so hold on, ok.)

November was real busy, as I had two presentations to foist upon Wellington creative groups. First I gave a five-minute talk at the mash-up-themed Webstock Mini. I talked about using the 1968 Shell Guide to New Zealand to take on my holidays.

Then later in the month, I gave a talk at the ninth Wellington Pecha Kucha Night expanding on the Shell Guide as a sort of anti-travel philosophy; that sometimes you’ve just got to put the travel guide down.

You know what’s weird? Despite living in this digital world where everyone seems to have a camera on them, I’ve yet to find a single photo of the event. Instead I’ll like to Tom Beard’s slides from his PKN presentation back in April. It was a good one.

I joined Morgan and Ben as a regular contributor on their podcast, the Discourse Weekly Show, offering cultural commentary from the luxurious Studio 3 (there are mohair throws).

The year ended with me deciding to not renew my work contract for 2011. After putting in a few good years in the world of morning telly (and meeting some massive celebrities), it just seemed like a good time to call it a day. And it gives me the added thrill of having the anything-could-happen potential for 2011.

I turned 36, and discovered that if you remove your birthday from Facebook and don’t tweet it, hardly anyone will actually know it’s your birthday. Maybe if I can make the few rememberers forget it too, I’ll stop having birthdays altogether and have discovered the secret of eternal youth. Wait – that would be so awful.

And as a nice bookend for the year, I saw the Trons and The Shrugs play at the Yot Club in Raglan. The Trons captivated the audience, causing one dude to exclaim to a friend, “I can’t believe that it’s actually robots playing to us, bro. With personalities.” The Shrugs remain one of my favourite bands, so it’s always ace to see them live, along with the usual suspects in the audience.

So let’s end 2010 with a Trons video, for the aptly titled song Time’s Up. And it was filmed at the old dairy factory just down the road from the house I grew up in.

I was lucky enough to go to Webstock, but due to the Current Economic Climate I had go there as a door-holding, clock-watching volunteer, but I possibly had more fun than I would have if I’d gone as a regular attendee. I got to see my long-time interweb heroes Derek Powazek and Heather Champ’s talk on online communities, which was inspiring.

Oh God – Sevens weekend, possibly the most miserable weekend of the year. Lots of my friends left town, leaving me to face a city full of drunken munters. This has left me determined to avoid the broken glass and vomit in 2010 by leaving town for the weekend.

But on the good side of sports, I made a vow to see live sports games. I went to a test cricket match, a Phoenix game, and the mighty All Whites World Cup qualifier. I’m still not ready to sell my soul to any particular sport, but at least I think I get football.

I went to Auckland for a few days for business and pleasure. I unexpectedly saw legendary Auckland punk band The Spelling Mistakes play “Feels So Good”, which was something I had never expected to see. I also realised that the Auckland of now is no longer the Auckland I left. At the time, I felt quite melancholic about it, but a later visit revealed Auckland to be all right, still.

Much fun was had on a panel at the Young Labour Conference, talking about blogs, online communities and politics along with Keith Ng and David Farrar. This is where I got to share my wisdom with the younger generation.

I saw De La Soul perform at the Opera House. The last time I saw them live was in 1991, was I was a huge De La fan. They were touring to celebrate the 20th anniversary of their debut album, “Three Feet High and Rising”. And that made me wonder what it would be like for me to revisit stuff I’d created when I was 19. No wonder De La were chopping up their old stuff, mixing it up to make something new.

I watched Too Many Films this year. Too Many Films going being entertainment and into a state of being. I initially watched Too Many Films from around 1993 to 2004, but somehow managed to get sober in the mid 2000s. I thought I was over it, but a combination of the 48Hours film competition, the Film Festival and seeing many new releases as Slevin’s plus-one dragged me right back into it. Therefore, I have no life; I watch films instead.

Speaking of 48Hours, one is still haunted by the splendid Wellington regional winner, “Otack Otack Otack Fall“.

I also went to many theatrical shows this year, and (re)learned the ancient art of writing reviews. It turns out there’s more to say than “It was nice. I liked it.” I especially enjoyed “Biography of my Skin” a collaboration between actress Miranda Harcourt and her husband Stuart McKenzie, all about marriage and being complicated. It gave me hope.

Heh, remember earlier in the year when everyone was freaking right out about swine flu and how everyone was going to die, etc? Those were fun times.

I ended up with a swine cold, the downside of which was not being able to go to Napier for a holiday (but there would have been awful weather had I gone), and the upside of which was getting prescribed coff-b-gone, a cough syrup containing morphine. Aw yeah, I said morphine. Though in the middle of that wobbly, blissed-out week, I saw “Bruno” and laughed even though I knew it wasn’t funny, so I was glad to eventually get well.

After being thrown around by June and July, I decided that August would be good. In fact, I gave August its own hashtag (#goodaugust) and indeed it was a good month. You should try this. It works.

I went to WordCamp, which was not about words nor a camp. Instead it was a two-day un-conference about WordPress (the thing my blog runs on). It was most interesting, but I ended up leaving early on the second day because the sun was shining and I needed to be outside and not be in a suburban bowling club.

The power supply for my laptop broke, and I had to wait over a week for the new one to come. I turned to “books”, with their “pages” and “ink”, reading Dan Brown’s thrilling piece of shit “The Lost Symbol” and my DCM Book Fair acquisition, “True Colours” – Dave Armstrong’s funny and insightful account of the lead up to the 1996 election campaign.

I finally got to have some holiday and travel, with an excursion to the South Island. I was based in Christchurch and then Dunedin, but also explored some surrounding parts of Canterbury, Otago and Southland. I also fulfilled my lifelong dream of going to Gore.

I also took many notes and wrote an epic 10-part account of my travels. “You should write a book,” the people said. “But I haven’t even got out of bed yet,” Robyn replied.

The year nicely ended(-ish) with the Fourth Annual Wellingtonista Awards, celebrating the best of Wellington. I presented a few awards, joined in the festivities, and ended up performing “Buffalo Stance” in the hipster karaoke that followed.

And I turned 35, which took ages to happen. I was somehow expecting a dull day, but it actually turned out to be splendid with sunshine and delicious food and spending time with lovely friends.

So, quite a good year. And while Twitter ate my 2008, I had more a harmonious relationship with it this year:

I just completed an awesome 100 piece jigsaw puzzle of some Barbies riding horses on a California beach.
4:30 PM Dec 18th from Tweetie