One post before dinner with Fish

Tuesday, 06 June, 2006

So let me tell you how I spent the rest of my leave.

On Thursday I slept in for an exceedingly long time, then hopped on a train to Burwood (which confused me by terminating at Ashfield) and going to Westfield to buy underwear. Both K-Mart and Target were on sale so the nasty deed had to be done. I have to say I hate all forms of clothes shopping but especially underwear shopping. For the sake of my male readers, I will refrain from complaining about shopping for bras except to say that underwire is evil and should be banned from all forms of clothing!

I also picked up a little surprise for Karen that I hope will cheer her up and I actually managed to find some decent fingerless gloves for $3. And my favourite pens were in stock at Artbox for $1 each. Apparently they smell like chocolate when you write with them but my sense of smell is so terrible, I can't tell. Still, it amuses me that all my journals probably now smell like chocolate!

I rushed back home, hoping to do some writing, but instead ended up messing around until it was time to meet Cyndi (hi, Cyndi, if you're reading this!). We had “coffee” (I don't drink coffee) at Le Chocorêve on the other side of the train line (that's one for you to try, Dave). They were closing up so we headed back to my place and chatted until everyone else showed up. We all got takeaway Indian for dinner (which was delicious) and then the rest of the group showed up for Bible Study. We're doing Amos at the moment and I have to say that having Ben as my Bible Study leader is fabulous.

On Friday I slept in a little and then went to meet Rosey at Webba's—again, for coffee. I've always wanted to go there because it looks like such a cute little café and there are always people there. I walked and the walk took less time than I thought it would so I went around and gawked at all the beautiful houses in Annandale, and then at all the beautiful real estate at the real estate agency on the corner (how cool would it be to live in a warehouse apartment on the top floor! What a pain to move in but how cool would it be!) Webba's lived up to my expectations—not only did they have green tea but the Big Breakfast was only $12 (but I didn't get it; I had toast with sautéed mushrooms instead).

It was almost lunchtime by the time we finished our conversation. I walked home and tried to make an omelette for Ben. It failed miserably; egg recipes just aren't my specialty (though I think I have worked out how to do soft-boiled on this stove. Ben likes soft-boiled eggs). James had lent us Firefly so we started watching it together. I made spaghetti for dinner and then we watched Spellbound (the Hitchcock thriller, not the doco about spelling bees) which Ben quite enjoyed.

Saturday I was up at 9 trying, as usual, to Get Things Done. I blocked the scarf I was making for Liz for her birthday (even though she didn't want presents) and we headed out to But-Har-Gra for her 30th birthday party. But-Har-Gra, for those who have no clue, is what they call the Moore College accommodation out in Croydon Park. Legend has it that the woman who owns the main (and very spectacular but now very spectacularly rundown house) had was married to three husbands (one after the other) and the property is named after the beginnings of each of their names. I don't know how true that is but it makes for an interesting urban legend.

The property is huge and I can understand why families like living there—there's so much space and playground equipment that kids have a field day. We saw some people from our year there and their kids were certainly having a field day.

The Roedigers don't live in the big house though—they're in the block of flats next door. I had no idea Moore owned so much property! Because it was cold, the party was confined to two open garages. It was BYO meat (which was promptly barbecued) plus Tim and Liz had made all these yummy salads so we had a very nice feed. And there were cupcakes and gelato for dessert—mmm! Plus I got to catch up with a bunch of Wollongong St. Michael's folk.

We had to leave the party at 3:30 and we drove home, got changed into our black tie gear (me wearing my cheong sam which I had originally worn to our wedding reception—a dress which is exceedingly hard to get into, get out of and sit down in, but Black Tie was Asian-themed this year so I thought it was appropriate). We drove out to Epping and got there by 5 but were standing around, twiddling our thumbs, for an awfully long time. This year we couldn't afford the ticket price so we offered to help out. Ben was enlisted as a parking attendant and I was asked to help with registrations. It was all very high tech, with three computers all linked up wirelessly to one very sophisticated FileMarker Pro database. It was a little strange being asked to do work-type stuff for something that wasn't work but rego went fairly smoothly.

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Why is underwire evil?? I like underwire smile ‘cept can’t put them in the washing machine raspberry

Underwire is evil because it digs into your flesh and it’s bad for you—it can lead to breast problems. It’s like the 21st century equivalent of a corset.

Is that true?? Does it really lead to problems?? I want evidence!! All my bras are wired…

Okay, I’m probably wrong about them being bad for you but I still hate them!!

Le chocorêve is a good cafe: don’t be fooled by external appearances.


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