Friday night: $5 steak at the local. Interesting (ie pleasant and conversationalist) company, one of whom has, according to N later on, "A-grade cock".
Saturday: I go to mum's and make two sandwiches. With quince paste, turkey and cheese. I place the plate on the bedside table and go to the bathroom. I come back and see Nut licking his lips and one slice of cheese mysteriously absent.
Saturday night: After driving past the Races and seeing the girls in cheap, assymetrical dresses and the men wearing...jeans...I decided I would dress up this Saturday night. Lime silk Ferretti dress with olive Ferretti top - winning combination.
N and I start off at the pub
with a bottle of faux Champers, and I develop the most serious craving for laksa. So we go to one of the most famous Thai holes-in-the-wall
, but no laksa. What the...? Cab to the Cross for Roses' farewell drinks
. Rose was my PR agent and after a trip to Europe mid-year she has given it all up to go and live in New York. Bitch. Double bitch. Then onto Prague
for a glass of wine and their weak-at-the-knees-inducing blue cheese-stuffed deep fried mushrooms. Yes, they are as delectable as they sound, and then some.
At this point we decide to let world's collide, by inviting random friends to join us. B - fresh from waxing his monobrow - showed up before we even pressed the Send button, and we half-enjoy a strip club before hightailing it to the institution that is Retro
. Retro is ABBA, Bee Gees, Flashdance, Wham!, Dirty Dancing. Retro is hen's night central. Retro is ugly bright lights in the bathroom that illuminate the vomit in the sink. We invite Lee to join us because I need to feel a man's lips on mine, and he seems willing to oblige. But then the night goes downhill rapidly.
I've never encountered a guy who wouldn't take no for an answer. Anytime I've been at a club, met a guy, pashed and then dashed, it's either been can-I-get-your-number or see-you-later. Lee did not accept when I said we were heading off, and it just became quite horrible. It's in the past now, and I hope I - or any of you - never meet this kind of man again.
True arseholes encountered in 2005: 2
Sunday: Brunch, then I tried on my Favourite Pair Of Shoes (valid July 2005 - present). They fit and look a dream, and my search for them on eBay continues. Also cooed over a pair of Rudolph Menudier olive satin open-toed beauties with zipper over the toe. But, satin? What the hell is satin on a shoe? Completely impractical, and a poor cousin to leather.
Sunday afternoon I got a shock related to family...my world came crashing down...but I will wait until I know exactly what is going on. In my numb state I went to mum's to cook her a dinner from my new Tuscan cookbook (Italian is my favourite cuisine, and Tuscany may just be my favourite food region). It was one of the most delicious meals I've ever cooked, followed to the letter, and so satisfying to prepare. The recipe to follow.