Golden special happy fun time

1976 must have been a magical golden year or something, because I know all these cool people who have turned 30 this year. As a 31-year-old, I feel it is my duty to lead them through this coming of age.

Last night was James’ 30th, and he had a totally awesome party. There was a nice mix of his friends (all of whom are ace), and a number of the captionettes from work showed up. Things were going well, and then someone got the SingStar out.

I’ve never played SingStar before, but just for the record, I would like to say that I kick arse at it. I sang “Come on, Eileen” (and I put the comma in there, even though Dexy’s Midnight Runners refused to), “Ice Ice Baby” (but SingStar refused to recognised my awesomeness on the mic), “Atomic” (“To-niiiiiiiiight”), Rio (channelling the spirit of Le Bon), “Song 2” (channelling Alex James, because he is hot) and I beat the birthday boy on Erasure’s “A little respect”. They say musical skill is heritable, so I blame my mum for my SingStar skillz.

MySpace managed to come up as a topic of conversation on more than one occasion, which is surely a zeitgeisty sort of thing.

I stayed up far too late and lost my voice, but it was bloody good night. I woke up this morning and discovered The Lost Boys DVD was in my bag. Excellent.

Partee

I went to Joanna’s Halloween party. I either didn’t dress up or I dressed as a Punk-Arse Voodoo Priestess.

I saw a whole bunch of people including yesmum, foggynotion, starlajo, annettle, jsr, rainky, tryingtobenice, ellygator, votejj and Whale Man, (and various other people I knew or met).

At one stage it was a total LiveJournal a go-go extravaganza in the kitchen.

It was a very fun, very enjoyable party that ended up with Joanna, Chris, Gareth and I in the exotic harem room playing the 1998 German board game of the year. I lost.

I got a taxi home and the taxi driver was driving right down the middle of two lanes. Then he started talking about the weather.

Sweetness

I drove out to Huia today. It’s rool pretty out that. I sat in my car and looked out over the bay towards the Manukau Heads. They look like someone got a knife and sliced a bit off the end diagonally. My favourite bit, though, is when I’m driving down the hill towards Huia and I can see a tiny bit of the Pacific Ocean through the gap between the Manukau Heads and the end of the Waitakere Ranges. Ahh… lovely.

There was a party at my old flatmate’s new flat. I showed up and couldn’t find him so I gave him a call on his cell phone and discovered he was hiding in his bedroom. Ha ha. Later I was hanging out in his bedroom and picked up a random CD, opened it and found some class A drugs hidden in it. Yes, righto.

There was some really good music being played at the party, which is what happens when one of the flatmates is a really good DJ. Fo’ example:

  • I Come Off – Young MC
  • Saturday – De La Soul
  • Dub Be Good To Me – Beats International

Yes, yes, it’s early ’90s, and possibly I’m only digging it because of nostalgia, but it was good.

I went to the supermarket and there were large number of pairs of drunk teenage boys buying beer. “You rule, lady” one of them said to me. Yes, I know.

DILF?

I had plans for today, but so did my friends, and they dragged me into their fun and excitement.

I was going to go out, but teh old flatmate came over. He brought a six-pack with him so immediately my suspicions were aroused. “Robyn,” he said, “how would you feel about looking after my cat for a few months?” It turns out that the hip warehouse where he is living in sin with his bitch is no place to have a kitty cat. So she will be living with me and will have grass and trees to play in and that other cat to hiss at.

To celebrate this, I have decided to start an online diary as if it were written by the cat. “Meow! I am so happy! I get to stay with Robyn! I like her! I like coming into her bedroom at 7.00 am and walking on her face until she gets up and feeds me! Meow!!!!”

Then it was time for Ryan’s farewell party. He didn’t actually invite me. Well, he sent me an email today asking if I was going, so I was like “uh…. yeah?” But I got there and it was choice fun.

“Top of the Pops” was on TV. The Flaming Lips played “Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots” and Justin Timberlake was miming along on bass wearing a headless bunny costume. In terms of cultural significance, this is like a cross between when the Flaming Lips played at the Peach Pit on “Beverly Hills 90210” and when Kurt Cobain sang “Smells Like Teen Spirit” on “Top of the Pops” in a funny voice.

Ryan knows lots of really interesting people, so there was plenty of fun happening. Of particular interest was a series of photos of some drunken antics involving his flatmates. Flatmate wearing gimp mask and soft toy animal. Flatmate wrapped in Glad Wrap. Ryan opening bathroom door and being faced with flatmate wearing soft toy animal. I’m sure Ryan is going to miss that the most.

17-year-old guys rule, but I don’t mean that in a dodgy way. (Yes I do).

Then I got a really bad caffeine withdrawal headache. Rool baaad. All I could manage to do was sit on the couch and read a sticky copy of FHM magazine. So while there were some sort of gay shenanigans going on in Ryan’s bedroom, I just sat on the couch reading about the 20 worst albums, and if Kylie Minogue is more likely to go out or stay in on Saturday nights.

So eventually I realised I wasn’t going to have any fun until I got some coffee (I want a new drug), so I bid farewell to Ryan and went to the skanky petrol station that has ok coffee.

I feel nice.