Sometimes your life just feels so boring there’s nothing to blog about . . .and yet when I think about it I’ve been pretty busy so there should be something there to blog about. I’ve been working, I’ve been having girls-nights-out-where-one-drinks-far-too-much, I’ve looked at apartments in the city and on the outskirts, I’ve been to the gym and lifted too heavy weights, and I’ve been in touch with the MOS. (Then have been too embarrassed to blog about it.)
So, girls-night-out: a friend of a similar vintage to me is getting divorced. As a gesture to help her celebrate her new single status, or simply mark the end of an era, one of the young things at work organized a night on the town. Ten of us came along! You probably heard us from your continent.
We began in the city apartment we were all staying in with a few drinks - champagne. (Sweetie, darling.) Then moved onto Double Happiness. Yes, that really was its name. A small, very small, bar in Chinatown. I think my kitchen is bigger, which is probably why we ended up sitting out the front on the footpath.
Knowing my limits I wasn’t going to have another drink just yet, so how did I end up consuming a cocktail called Great Leap Forward? A guess you never grow out of peer group pressure. I shouldn’t have announced my intention to skip the cocktails quite so publicly and I would've been safe. Lychee vodka, ginger and other strange ingredients didn’t sound like they’d make a good cocktail but I was wrong.
Then onto Madame Brussels- a very girly bar all decked out in pink with fake lawn inside and waitresses rushing jauntingly around in short tennis skirts and frilly bloomers. I want to get a job there just so I can wear the outfit.
Finally we went to the happening new place Marmasita, a Mexican restaurant that specializes in tequila; I had white wine. From memory the food was good but I was busy engaging in a text conversation with the MOS. He was upset with me because I’d criticized him for not seeing me to my car when we had a date the other day. (Yes, I know I said no more MOS.) The girls confiscated my phone, gave it back then advised me on what to text. (Yes, I know . . . even the dog rolls her eyes when I mention the MOS now.)
After dinner we hit another bar/club called Spice Market. It claims this Eastern name by having some imitation terracotta warriors at the entrance and about 200 empty bird cages hanging from the ceiling. I guess the bird cages look slightly exotic.
Bored because no one would dance with me I was finally taken under the tutelage of one of my friends, Aussie Bridget, and told to go and speak to men. She took me for a tour of the club, which was half empty as it was a Thursday night, and told me I had to find someone I wanted to talk to. Naturally as the MOS wasn’t there (yes, I’m mocking myself) I couldn’t find anyone. So Bridget just picked some boys out for me and told me: talk to them. Acting completely out of character I went over and chatted to them. Who knew it was so easy?
After a little while I was bored so went and chatted to some different men. They were much more interesting. But naturally, because I only pick men who live/work overseas, one was from Canada and the other from the States. Shortly thereafter everyone wanted to go home. So we did, even though my newly divorced friend and I barely got an hour’s sleep courtesy of the alcohol imbibed, we should’ve just stayed out as we were destined to be awake anyway. (Breakfast was a non even the next day too.)
There, I’ve gotten back on the blogging-pony. Hopefully my future posts will be more scintillating. And I will return and check on everyone else's blogs too- sorry for my slackness.