A few weeks ago we went to Matt’s for dinner again. I can’t show you Matt’s face, not because he’s a dentist, but because I want to keep his identity a secret. If everyone finds out how amazing he is, then everyone will want in, and soon I’ll be shunted to the side, like last year’s friend.
This here is where the night took a turn for the blurst:
Look at all that liquor! I can’t even explain the kitchen skills of Matt and Jamie, I honestly have never been fed and watered so well. I’m going to have to learn to tap dance or get some new crazy cat stories in order to earn my keep. Maybe I’ll have to show them my imitation of my old downstairs neighbour, which basically just involves getting drunk and commenting on other people’s breasts. Which was pretty much me this particular night anyway. I’ve been told dollar bills ended up being stuffed into various people’s cleavages. My lawyer has advised me not to comment.
Please allow me a second of mushiness: I have some really awesome friends, they are The Good People and they have brought much radness and food into my life. Speaking of The Good People and mush, let’s talk about Valentine’s Day!
I had a great Valentine’s Day, and romanced people left, right and centre (I’m very flexible*). Jeff and I had lunch at Charlie & Co., where he proposed to a man who was being opera sanged at. Sanged is totally a word, shut your mouth. I wasn’t sure what was going on. Loud noises and the close proximity of burgers do odd things to my brain and when I came to, Jeff was on one knee in front of a man and a woman in a ballgown was belting opera into a microphone next to them and I was all ‘GET SOME BURGER IN ME!’.
That night, my yellow rose and I escorted Mush to Pizza Hut all-you-can-eat, and it turns out, all-we-can-eat is a lot of eating. We stayed for so long that we got kicked out, either because they were closing or because of our angry feminist rants about angry feminists. Gotta work off those calories somehow, am I right ladies?
More on Mush: she and the distinguished Seabas had me over for dinner in their mansion the other night. They cooked for me. Seriously, why are people doing this? I am not worthy. It was delicious, we had steak and a salad that was mostly beetroot and haloumi and home-made chips:
Afterwards, Mush made is banana splits. I am the world’s luckiest girl.
I’ve also been spending plenty of time with this little twerp:
The little punk knows the whole ‘A, B, C’ song now and has some little sentences going and is full of cuddles and laughs. He’s so cute that no-one even minded when he sat his nappied-butt on their picnic food on the weekend.
This is my other little twerp, the one who causes me equal amounts of angst and laughs:
In other news, I:
Got a fringe,
Ate some giant sushi,
Watched the storms roll in, and
Had some movie nights.
Being that Sydney in February is generally humid beyond belief and I curl up in a miserable, sweaty ball, I am giving this slightly cooler and more social February a 10-out-of-10 for effort.
* No I’m not.