From tha chuuurch to tha palace

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

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 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.

Sentiment, sediment

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.

To: Me

Potential New Years Resolution:
Avoid anything that claims to be “wildberry” flavour. What is wildberry? It’s just made up, innit?

I’ve done all my Christmas shopping (oh thank God). I went to Real Groovy today and got the last of my required CD purchases. I also picked up another Specials CD ($7! Cheap!). This one had some Fun Boy Three tracks, including “Our Lips Are Sealed”, which is really exciting for an Go-Go’s fan like me.

Actually shopping in Real Groovy was really enjoyable. Other shops try to get all seasonal with their Christmas songs (There don’t seem to be as many carols now. It’s probably so all the balding IT manager atheist-since-university losers don’t get offended), but Real Groovy had some a live version of “Bleed American” blasting. Instead of a bunch of shitty shoppers, hating every minute of it, everyone there seemed to be relaxed and enjoying themselves.

Oh yeah, Teh Flatmate showed me his new undies today. He pulled down his new jeans and shook his booty. I laughed merrily.

Hey: the new Dubious Bros video for the song “Trade Secrets”. They start off in the car park next to the Monkton Trust building on Rostrevor Street, then hoon across the Humpty Dumpty bridge, then down Victoria Street, then end up down by the river and on board the Waipa Delta. Are they really Hamilton locals, cos that’s not really the most direct route? Never the less, I never saw any gangstas in jeeps during the 22 years I lived in Hammo.

1130

I realised that I hadn’t done any Christmas shopping so I jumped in my bitchmobile and journeyed over to the Glenfield Mall. I was supposed to get the “Buena Vista Social Club” on video for my dad but instead I got it on DVD.

I managed to find it hidden away in the DVD section of some shop. It’s all such a blur that I can’t even remember what shop it was. I guess I should mention that my parents don’t actually have a DVD player but:

a) DVDs players just get cheaper and cheaper
b) They can bloody well afford one
c) Who buys video cassettes anymore?
d) Better sooner than later, y’know.

I was feeling disgusted with the whole situation, so when I bought the DVD I also grabbed the new System of a Down CD for myself. It’s at times like this that I wish those dorky non-gift vouchers (“FREE HUGS!!!”) were actually a legitimate gift option and would not result in me being ostracised by my whanau.

So I was still looking for this damn CD for my mum. I went to St Lukes, and that was a big mistake. I got there just after 9 pm (the normal closing time), but because it was open till midnight the place was packed. It was so horrible. It was just full of whinging, complaining, hot, sweaty family groups.

“What should we get for Brian?”
“Dunno.”
“Well he’s your brother.”

There was this very boring looking couple who became separated on the escalator and panicked at being about a metre apart. As soon as they reached the bottom, the man’s hand took its rightful place in the back pocket of the woman’s high-waisted jeans with a stripy t-shirt tucked into them.

I found a The Specials CD for $10, which kind of compensated for the masses.

But I’ve still got one item left. I think I might have to drag myself along to The Warehouse and trawl through the classical music bins. Dammit, why can’t my parents be into Ja Rule or Blindspott. It would make things so much easier.

To Helensville and back

I went hooning today with Mike. It was r00l choice!!!!

He gave me a present: The Maxi Tools Powermatic Tool with Realistic Movements. This comprises of the following pieces of plastic fun:

  • A saw – but with little wheels instead of teeth.
  • A hammer – it rattles when you bang it.
  • [One of those bolt tightening things where you turn in one way and it tighten the bolt, but when you turn it the other way the bolt stays in the same place] – it makes a clicking noise when turned.
  • Pliers – and they seem the least toy-like and most practical
  • A spanner – it’s one of those adjustable ones
  • A, um, piece of wood type thing with three bolts and three nuuuuutz -deeez nuuuutz
  • A really big phat nail – yeah, one of those.

Like the name says, they do have realistic movement. God knows what I’m going to do with them all. It’s too late to donate them to a needy children’s toy fund.

Actually, isn’t it getting near the time where a poor family has their home broken into and all their Christmas presents stolen (but the TV and VCR left alone), then they appear in the papers, on TV, “Our Christmas has been ruined!” etc, photos of sad-eyed kiddies, etc, etc, etc, and then some kind business donates a shitload of free (but crappy) toys and Christmas isn’t ruined.

Oh yeah, so Mike and I went out to Helensville and we got there and it was like “Woo! Helensville!” And we went to the Woolworths to buy some lunch except that all the food in the entire store was crap. I bought some potato salad (no free spoons, what kind of supermarket doesn’t give out free spoons to deli purchases?), a muffin, some ginger beer and some penguins. Mike got some bacon and sour cream flavoured chips and some honey mustard dip.

Ok, the potato salad was horrible, the muffin was even worse. I just had some of Mike’s chips and dip and the ginger beer and penguins. But most importantly, the checkout lady was crazy and Mike called her a cunt. I don’t think we will be welcome back there ever ever again.

Do you know I want for Christmas? I want that guy from that band, ok?