Take what you need

I’m not freaking out about Rants in the Dark opening tomorrow night in Auckland. I’m not freaking out. Definitely not. I am a calm sea not freaking out not freaking out not freaking out at all.

Kids are sick at home today. I didn’t sleep last night. Haven’t packed. It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine.

Meditations for the next few days. Take what you need. I will share mine.

You are sitting on a beach. You can hear screams of laughter and joy from the waves. It is your children. They are delighted. The sun warms your skin. There is a slight breeze so you’re not too hot. You watch Chris Hemsworth emerge from the sea. His V glistening, board shorts straining, clinging to his golden thighs. He grins, shakes his head like he’s a stupid Labrador. He leans down and kisses you deeply then winks. He runs off with the kids and returns with a coffee for you. “I’ll take the kids for an adventure around the rock pools babe” he says. He is gone for two hours and you can finally read your book.

God bless the shop assistant who keeps giving him a size too small.

Your new mattress is perfect. Nothing smells like piss. In fact, the room smells simply clean and there is the faintest shiver of expensive cologne. It’s Jeff Goldblum. He sits beside your bed, tucks you in and begins to read to you. You fall asleep to his voice elegantly reading Book 4 of the Southern Vampire series where Eric and Sookie finally fuck. You sleep for 12 hours. When you wake, there are fresh flowers. Jeff Goldblum has cleaned your house including the oven.


You’re in a sex cabin in the woods, the fire is raging but a storm is coming. You are perched on the couch with Alexander Skarsgard wearing a cream knitted sweater outrageously. You have on fluffy socks and his ginormous hands are rubbing your feet through the socks. There’s a knock on the door. Alexander Skarsgard tells you to wait. It could be a serial killer, you’re in the middle of nowhere. Luckily he is extremely tall so he can handle any killer. There is laughter from the door. Chris Evans emerges with his arm around Alexander Skarsgard. Turns out they were friends in college and Chris Evans’ car broke down outside your house. What serendipity! Oh no, Chris Evans is all wet. You help remove his clothes, so does Alexander Skarsgard. “We had a lot of fun in college” Chris Evans says. “Remember that time we…” Alexander Skarsgard doesn’t finish his sentence. They stare intently, hungrily at each other. You put some popcorn in the microwave and sit on the couch. This is going to be good. “First, can you sort out some wood for the fire” you say.

You turn up to Active Play only to find it has been cancelled. Also there is Mark Ruffalo. He suggests you come over for a playdate. You would never usually just go to some random person’s house for a playdate. But what do you know – yours babies are the same age. And it’s Mark Ruffalo. His house is lovely, clean and homey. It’s not so tidy you’re embarrassed about your own domestic abilities but it’s clean enough that you feel comfortable. Inexplicably the children fall asleep immediately when you arrive. You have a glass of wine. “This might seem weird” he says, “but would you like me to take off my top, and would you like to just snuggle into my chest hair while we watch Drag Race?” Yes, you say. I would like that very much Mark Ruffalo. Your children sleep until the morning and you talk about the underrated prowess of Nina West while you snuggle and eat Kapiti Ice Cream apple pie flavour straight from the tub (he has this ice cream because he’s rich).

Silky is delusional if she thinks she has been nice to the other queens. Her pads were showing, her wig was terrible – and honestly, she forgot the words which is surely unforgiveable. Nina’s performance wasn’t great but she should not have gone home.

Your sister-in-law owns a gym. You’ve volunteered to come in since she’s sick. The only person working out is Dwayne The Rock Johnson. One of the things off the thing he lifts falls off. He asks for your help. You suggest it will be easier to lift things if he’s shirtless. He agrees. You spend the next six hours giving him increasingly heavier things to lift which he does with ease. You head to the carpark. You watch him lift cars as you eat a burrito that is so perfectly rolled you don’t spill any on your clothes.