Craig was searching the toy section for a present for a friend’s new baby.
I didn’t choose the scablife, the scablife chose me.
(my Rose Hardy tattoo was healing nicely)
Heading into the last House sitting weeks of the year. Everyone was exhausted.
Oh Wellington, early summer is always so rainy.
The bookshop at the bottom of Bowen House at Parliament is shutting up shop. The closure of bookshops always makes me sad.
Started to see Christmas parties around the city. It’s the season.
I love these buildings in upper Cuba street. They’re slightly falling apart but I adore it.
We drove around to Eastbourne for an audition and spent the afternoon sitting in the sun by the sea.
Late Sunday night a girl in our building had forgotten her swipe card but it was so late and our buzzer doesn’t work anyway. Then on Monday morning the front door was smashed. I hoped they were unrelated – especially since it wasn’t completely shattered so getting in that way wouldn’t have worked.
Our flatmate went on a road trip to Palmerston North and brought back a lot of soda.
12:12 on the 12th of the 12th.
I couldn’t resist.
The afternoon after the Press Gallery party. All I wanted to do was go home and sleep. But I had a Grimes show to get to.
Arriving home from Grimes just after midnight with Christmas lights the only illumination.
Rude gnomes at WORLD.