The Weekend
Three dominant themes to cover from this weekend:
Weird people.
More weird people.
Seepage.
Friday night: Started off at the Robin Hood for $5 schnitzel and wine. Old school acquaintance L joined us and as she is engaged, wedding-talk pretty much takes up the conversation. Luckily she is not a bridezilla. However she told us about a workmate who booked a function centre for her wedding. She is single, but, you know, these things book out well in advance. She had to cancel the booking as by the time she had to pay the deposit she was still single.
Then, went to see *whispers* Urinetown. Friend is the costume designer and the group did a fabulous job. Such amazing voices. During the show, however, a mobile phone rang behind me. The girl answered it. She left her seat to continue the conversation near the front door. This is the Bondi Pavillion, a tiny stage and room. She was practically part of the cast, standing there off-stage, chatting away. She then walked out to keep blabbing away, slamming the doors loudly behind her. Un. Be. Lievable.
Oh and she was wearing ugg boots. To the theatre. So it was not opening night of La Traviata in Milan, but it's still a Friday night at the theatre.
Drinks followed, as did conversations about hen's nights, and strippers. All the women agreed they are a big no-no. There is nothing sexy about a male stripper, and the stupid giggling from the 'hens' is embarassing. N recalled that a stripper she had seen at a hen's night had seepage. Yes. Seepage. There. Oh the horror.
The rest of the weekend saw me buy another wrap dress from one of my designers, Betty & John; coffee, granita and the most stunning zucchini flowers with 5 cheeses at my favourite place Fratelli Fresh with I; and N's friend's birthday party at an R&B club. Men are really getting shorter. It's discouraging. I like between 6' and 6'5. But they all seem to be boob-height.
Weird people.
More weird people.
Seepage.
Friday night: Started off at the Robin Hood for $5 schnitzel and wine. Old school acquaintance L joined us and as she is engaged, wedding-talk pretty much takes up the conversation. Luckily she is not a bridezilla. However she told us about a workmate who booked a function centre for her wedding. She is single, but, you know, these things book out well in advance. She had to cancel the booking as by the time she had to pay the deposit she was still single.
Then, went to see *whispers* Urinetown. Friend is the costume designer and the group did a fabulous job. Such amazing voices. During the show, however, a mobile phone rang behind me. The girl answered it. She left her seat to continue the conversation near the front door. This is the Bondi Pavillion, a tiny stage and room. She was practically part of the cast, standing there off-stage, chatting away. She then walked out to keep blabbing away, slamming the doors loudly behind her. Un. Be. Lievable.
Oh and she was wearing ugg boots. To the theatre. So it was not opening night of La Traviata in Milan, but it's still a Friday night at the theatre.
Drinks followed, as did conversations about hen's nights, and strippers. All the women agreed they are a big no-no. There is nothing sexy about a male stripper, and the stupid giggling from the 'hens' is embarassing. N recalled that a stripper she had seen at a hen's night had seepage. Yes. Seepage. There. Oh the horror.
The rest of the weekend saw me buy another wrap dress from one of my designers, Betty & John; coffee, granita and the most stunning zucchini flowers with 5 cheeses at my favourite place Fratelli Fresh with I; and N's friend's birthday party at an R&B club. Men are really getting shorter. It's discouraging. I like between 6' and 6'5. But they all seem to be boob-height.
posted by Julia at 10:43 AM
3 Comments:
Funny you mentioned the height of men thing. I am starting to see someone who is actually shorter than me. I know it's shallow as all get-go but man, it does bug me.
His body, otherwise, does make up for it though. Whoah moma.
I saw Urinetown in SF a few years ago. Thought it was quite good.
I saw a guy who literally came just inches above my belly button. I've dated short men before (I'm 5'10"; it's sometimes unavoidable) but that might be too much for me!
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