365 in 2013

365 in 2013

Sunday: yea we live near students, why do you ask?
Sunday morning remnants from Saturday night’s student parties. I hope.

Monday: new things! Books and bats and sparkly tops
New things. Books and bats and sparkly tops.

Tuesday: old goth boots for a costume
For a halloween costume this year I’m going as my 2001 self. So I had to go dig my old goth boots out of deep storage. They are just as ridiculous as I remembered.

Wednesday: launch of the NZ Festival at the Opera House
Attended the launch of the NZ Festival at the Opera House in my capacity as professional plus one.

Thursday: rain on lillies
Rain on lilies.

Friday: drinks at MOF
The sun was out and our new favourite place to drink on Fridays gets a lot of it in the evenings. It’s kind of the best.

I tried to take a photo on Saturday and my camera lens fell apart. Completely in two.
I guess when I drunkenly bumped my camera on Friday night it was … slightly harder than I remember it being.


365 in 2013

365 in 2013

Sunday: street art
I accidentally walked entirely across the city when I thought I only had to walk halfway. At least I saw amazing art on the way home.

Monday: the wind collapsed the scaffolding
Crazy gusts of wind took down three storey scaffolding and closed Willis Street.
My office also swayed so much in the wind I felt a wee bit seasick.
(This was also the day I officially came out and y’all were so nice & supportive)

Tuesday: dying peonies
I do love that peonies look as beautiful while dying as they do while blooming.

Wednesday: teeniest crystal skull
Teeniest crystal skull full of vodka. It’s my kind of skull.

Thursday: statue behind Parliament. Near a bar. Yes.
This statue behind the Beehive. It is very strange. But I think I like it.

Friday: pretty ivy
I adore this ivy. I don’t know why I didn’t notice it until today.

Saturday: this does not look natural
This plant. It does not look natural. At all.

365 in 2013

365 in 2013

Sunday: sliders at Mama Brown
Sliders at Mama Brown’s. So delicious I ate a lot more than I really could. The rest of that day was fun.

Monday: WOW
It was that time of year again – the World of Wearable Art was in town.

Tuesday: WOW windows.
But I admit. Some of the WOW window displays are kind of cool.

Wednesday: in need of red wine and pasta
Such a day. I was in dire need of red wine and pasta.

Thursday: light in the evenings.
Meeting friends at a bar near work – surprised that the evening was still light.

Friday: late night dinner in Auckland
I ate the most delicious Reuben at the Late Night Diner.

Saturday: getting stabbed by Rachie Tea at Two Hands Tattoo
I spent an hour or so getting stabbed repeatedly by Rachie Tea at Two Hands Tattoo. She was lovely. I ended up with a skull and tudor rose as gap fillers.

Sunday: heading home from Auckland
Flying home from Auckland. I was exhausted.

Monday: American candy from Auckland
When in Auckland we went to the American Store. I bought Candy Corn because I am awkwardly obsessed. It tastes of nothing and yet I adore it.

Tuesday: Body book at the Counsellor's office
Visiting my counsellor. Strange book in the waiting area.

Wednesday: heading home
Pretty cathedral, closed for earthquake strengthening.

Thursday: new tattoo! By Victor McKenney
New tattoo! Greyscale poppies from Victor McKenney. On my hip. It killed.

Friday: gutted bank building
There’s a bank along Lambton Quay that is, it transpires, now almost completely gutted.

Saturday: blackbird
Pretty blackbird, hunting for food.

Sunday: family birthday celebration
My family put black and silver decorations around the house for my family birthday celebration. It was lovely.

Monday: new Stephen King!
The new Stephen King arrived! It’s now third on my books-to-read list. Sigh.

Tuesday: birthday blossoms
I turned 30 and noticed pretty blossoms on the way to work.

Wednesday: poetry and liquor from lovely people
Beautiful poetry and lovely liqueur from Laura and Tim.

Thursday: birthday peonies
Birthday peonies from Kate and Jason, possibly my favourite flower.

Friday: night light street light
Night light, street light. Heading from one party to another.

Saturday: the peonies opened!
My birthday peonies bloomed beautifully.


Stolen. My hair was stolen.
Hair cut. Clavi cut.

So. I have some news.

So. Here’s the thing. I have been going through A Time recently. I think I’m ready to tell you about it now. I wasn’t going to. But then … this website has been part of my life for so long.

Pretty pretty peonies

At the heart of things, I’ve been struggling with this for years. Unfortunately it’s only in the past few months where everything has up and fallen in line, leaving me standing here with my realisation and a big fat “oh.” on my face.

I’m gay. Like… quite gay.

Yea, I know. Believe me, I know. I know. It was a surprise to me too.

I’ve never ever been straight, I knew that, everyone knew that, but I’ve also had Craig since I was 16 so I guess I just never actually got to see which way my heart was headed. He was my best friend, he still is my best friend, and for 13 years that was … almost enough.

Earlier this year I was going through a ‘bad brain’ time and all of a sudden thought “well, maybe I’m gay” and then everything over the past two, maybe three years fell into line and I saw exactly the path that lead me here.

I would give pretty much anything to have realised this at 18, or 22, or 28. But also not. I don’t regret the time I’ve had with Craig. Not even a little bit. I loved him, I still do love him. He has been, and will remain, one of the most important parts of my life. He is one of the absolute best people I know.

But yes, Craig and I are separating.

When I told Craig he held my hand while I talked and held my head when I cried and was the most supportive person you can imagine.

It’s been the strangest few weeks. First there was talking with my counsellor, then there was telling Craig, then our families, our friends. And then after that comes the internet.

My mother’s immediate & panicky response to hearing that I have news was “What‽ I’m not prepared for news!”

But, you know, not one single person, upon hearing ‘the news’, has been anything other than amazing and supportive. To me and to Craig. We have an astounding group of people in my life and I am entirely thankful for all of them.

Craig and I are not rushing anything. He is still one of the most important people in my life and I hate that any of this has hurt him. We are moving forward together as friends and I am always trying to be mindful of and kind to him. And vice versa.

I used to think I was just a deeply unhappy person. It turns out that I was just doing a pretty good job of lying to myself. Being true to who I am has been such a weight off my shoulders.

I’m not lying to myself anymore.


Whirlwind weekend in Auckland

What feels like a lifetime ago, a cultish group of favourite friends and myself spent a whirlwind weekend in Auckland.

We went up to see Wicked, eat amazing food, and a couple of us managed to sneak in tattoos. Because of course we did.

These are a few photos from that trip.

Friday: late night dinner in Auckland

Best Ugly Bagel. Amazing.

Saturday: getting stabbed by Rachie Tea at Two Hands Tattoo


Orchids on the street

Poppies in October

All done. Now dead.
Poppies. Tattoo by Victor J Webster

Poppies in October

Even the sun-clouds this morning cannot manage such skirts.
Nor the woman in the ambulance
Whose red heart blooms through her coat so astoundingly –

A gift, a love gift
Utterly unasked for
By a sky

Palely and flamily
Igniting its carbon monoxides, by eyes
Dulled to a halt under bowlers.

Oh my God, what am I
That these late mouths should cry open
In a forest of frosts, in a dawn of cornflowers.

— Sylvia Plath (27 October 1962)

Today I got the poppies tattooed. I had vaguely remembered the poem but not that the month was October. And, you know, Plath wrote that on her last birthday alive. Her 30th birthday.

I hadn’t looked up the poem before I got the tattoo. I turn 30 next week.

xx xx

I am, of course, just overthinking this all. It’s just a strange strange coincidence. Also, I am not even in the slightest bit suicidal. So there’s that.

This tattoo, oh, it hurt so bad. SO bad. I hadn’t had my hip tattooed since October 2010 and yeah, there was a reason it took me three years to get the nerve to get another hip tattoo.

Both Victor and Simon Morse complimented me on how well I sit while getting tattooed. Like the terminator, apparently, I just shut down and don’t move. It’s not the most useful talent to have, but I will take it.

But I think my favourite moment was when Victor asked how old I was and, after being told I was a week away from 30, had me repeat myself and then told me he thought I was 23. This baby face of mine is both a blessing and a curse.

Love is the bone and sinew of my curse.