Hic Sunt Dracones

I’m not really sure what, or rather how*, to write here.

I miss you, my friends of mine.

I’ve been exceptionally fortunate to have a group of friends who rule. Largely built around a core of friends I oh so very luckily fell in with when I arrived in Christchurch over a decade ago.

I’ve missed people who have gone overseas, or moved away, for short periods of time and then returned, and then gone away again, maybe, who can tell sometimes.

And I’ve missed people like Dan who have gone overseas… joined the Marines and never been seen again. And I missed Corey that time he went into the woods with five young co-eds who disappeared in suspicious circumstances. Or Hamish who went overseas and had Interpol out looking for him after he became an illegal alien in Czech Republic.**

And now, finally, I’ve moved away, and so get to miss all of my friends.

Of course I miss you. You’re my friends, I kind of think that is the point. I don’t really miss people I wasn’t friends with, and friendship isn’t only about missing people, but shuttup pedants, my sentence stands.

Thanks to everyone who came along to my party c/- RLM, was good to see you all. Sorry I wasn’t living up to my tshirt, drinking two nights in a row is apparently too Metal for me.

Sorry to the people I didn’t really manage to say proper goodbyes to, which was pretty much everyone. Having going away parties the night BEFORE you pack, is, while in fine me tradition, somewhat silly.

I’m in Melbourne. Come and get me.

*: This mainly being a question of pondering how sissy I can write without feeling that the sissyness is getting in the way of the message… or giving Dave ideas.

**: Two of this paragraph are true… how cool are my friends. :) And to make it better, all I need do is replace Corey hanging with Coeds in the woods with “went to Japan, got a girl pregnant, got married, and became Shogun.” But I was already getting off message enough, and now I’m adding to it. Got to fight the sissyness you see. Fight it!

SMS from Ben @ 1645:

ALERT: Town is full of first years in school girl’s outfits.

(I checked it was girls in girls outfits, not guys, and he said predominately girls. Which is good enough for me)

Should include 300.
Should be at Hoyts Riccarton Mall
Should be at 11.20pm

You know what to do.

Am tidying my room. This is actually a perpetual state of my room and I. But with going away soon, I’m being slightly more energetic in my raids. I’m turning up all kinds of things.

On Saturday I found four pairs of new black socks, for some reason stuffed in a draw. Perhaps I was hiding them?

I’ve also shredded about 10 years worth of bank statements, phone bills and other assorted bureaucratic miscellany.

Occasionally however I find bits of paper that are better. Like the one:

12% of Americans believe that David Hasselhoff’s success is due at least in part to “dealings with the devil.”

17% of college graduates would punch themselves in the face REALLY HARD for $50

23% of Americans believe Elvis was right to shoot TV sets.

29% of Americans would rather resit the SATs than watch reruns of Star Trek

65% of all Americans believe that frozen pizza will never be any good and there’s nothing science can do about it.

Take that science! Anyway, I assumed these were from TV Nation, and indeed they are. You can find some more over at alt.tv.tv-nation.

Dan and I used to watch this late nights at Xanadu? Your place? My place? Some where. And I found these so awesome I wrote them down. Well I think Dan wrote two of them. They’re all +/- 9%…. And some are based off a massive 224 people :) But that doesn’t detract from their comedy value.

Dave, party at your place on Saturday the 14th of April. You’re invited, but pretty yourself up. There might be a Ben brother in attendance. OK, the will be a Ben at least, and that’ll get you half way.

Now of course Dan is off in Cumbria making pornos for Tark to download and 100 zillion mega fondles per second.

PS. I think they’re right about Elvis.

Today I sent a stack of cash across an ocean and into the waiting hands of my new flatmate. I expect she’s off buying shoes AS WE SPEAK (er read?). I did it with gogo wire transfers so assume the cocaine should be arriving by cigar boat any day now.

In other riveting banking news, I have a bank account in a foreign county, the one I’m heading to even. One phone call from me to ASB, and two from Commonwealth Bank to Me and I’m all set. So thanks ASB for having the power of opening bank accounts in not Auckland. Unlike Westpac, which can’t open them for me in Australia, even though they’re Australian owned. And National bank, ALSO Australian owned. Banks really need to get with the “modern” notion we’ve had lying around. (ASB (and Westpac) can apparently open accounts in England too)

Although they are getting occasionally surprisingly better – got a TradeMe payment same day between 7pm and 10pm which was awesome, and the international transfer was around six hours from go to shoes.

TradeMe is good, if you hadn’t noticed. I’ve sold another four or five things, all for decent money. Have got my CD player on it at the moment. Was ~450 10 years ago, but… who needs a CD player these days? Can’t play MP3 CDs and is not a one disc player, but a smitey big five disc component machine of redundancy. Still, I have no use for it, and little or no room to store it, so off it goes $1 reserve all the way.

I’ve been to the dentist and come out all right. I’ve been to the doctor and come out immune to more than I went in immune to. I’ve been to the insurance mans and asked for info on “foreign parts insurance” and recieved not much useful, (work in progress). I have a pack. I have a sleeping bag. I have copious amounts of clothing.

I have not started to pack, but mentally I’ve been working through some things, and this whole “going off to live” aspect makes packing tricky. If I was going for a holiday I wouldn’t need my gym shorts/shoes/gym shirt etc, but going off to live I kinda do (else revert to even fatter me) and so I’ll be taking them. But how I’ll be fitting that stuff in remains to be seen. I suspect I’ll take three pairs of shoes, 1) leather steel capped “most professional looking shoes I own despite the steel toe” shoes. 2) Walking around casual shoes (Oh how I hate myself for saying that) and 3) Sneakers for the running jumping, tripping, flailing, falling etc. I have no idea how Pen ever manages to get on a plane. She takes more than that to the beach.

I’ve lost my GPS I think. Have I mentioned this? It is of course ironic. No seriously, I think it is. A thing that uses satellites to know exactly where it is… and I just don’t know where it is. If only it could tell me. (Some of the ones at work can, but they’re Irridium based, and cost more than my car.) So if you’re seen it, tell me. Otherwise, start scouring the streets, bushes and speakeasies for it.

I still haven’t organised a job. And that my friends, seems rather important at this stage. This stage being one hour till two weeks till Melbourne. If you haven’t got your tickets to the “He’s Gone Lets Party Party” that I understand Dave and Ben are working on, don’t fret, there is plenty of time. Meanwhile tickets to the “RLM: A Party of Fat Proportions” are selling out fast, remember to qualify for “being at the party” you have to show up.

TBALC never was big on requirements.

April 1st saw *Number Portability* arrive in NZ, and I had high hopes. It appears though, after reading the Herald today, that I was dreaming the impossible dream. No not two girls… but more on that later.

When my boss came back from the States last, I got him to bring me a tripod for my new camera. It’s called a Gorillapod, and it is rated cool, by one of out the people in this chair.

PS. Discovered recently, well, confirmed really I suppose, that even God knows I’m awesome. My blood is rated A+

(Try the potato salad)

Thank you, and goodnight.