Thursday #82 – I woke up this
Thursday just before 9am with group texts from The Hot One, The Wine
Buff and Legally Blonde coordinating their meeting time and place for
a view of the ANZAC Day march. I felt like a pretty rubbish
Australian when I woke up and saw on facebook how many of my friends
had been up for dawn services at 4.30am while I lay there sound
asleep. I did really enjoy my sleep-in though and I think the whole
point of the day is appreciating the sacrifice these people made so
that can have the lives we do today – it just so happened that that
day I really needed sleep and I certainly appreciated the public
holiday granting me that.
After some weetbix for breakfast I sat
down to catch up on some episodes of Dexter.
After being consistently behind for about 5 years (despite the fact
there is only 10 hours worth of show a year to watch) I am almost
caught up and should be ready for the next season when it kicks off
in June. I was VERY excited to see a guest appearance by My All Saints Buddy who had starred on the Australian TV show and been harassed by me at a particularly rowdy birthday party in 2007. I briefly flicked to the ABC to catch some of the dawn
service in Gallipoli and to make myself feel like less of a terrible
person. Made myself a massive salad for lunch (perhaps preempting
the huge dinner I would have) and waited for DTM to finish whatever
important business it was he was doing so we could head off for the
day.
With invites
flooding in from The Hot One, DTM's Version of M-Dizzle, The Bass
Player and The Weather Girl – we eventually ended up at The Argyle
with plans to see The Bass Player in action and then pop down the
street to say hello to The Hot One and whoever else was still out
with her at this late hour. We got there about 4pm and enjoyed
watching The Bass Player and his band play classic Aussie songs which
they absolutely detest since they are fancy musicians and all that.
When DTM left me at
a table to mind drinks while he went to the bathroom, I made friends
with The Watsons – a group of 3 guys and 2 girls who are apparently
all related (brothers, cousins, wives and whatnot) and claim to be
from the northern beaches despite speaking with a variety of changing
accents. I'm not sure what was going on but I had one whispering
“don't look at his beard” in my ear while The Bearded Watson told
stories about his younger days at The Surf Rock, paedophile jokes
were being made and falling flat and The Watson Wives were assuring
me that they were actually nice people whilst querying where DTM had
gone and why he just left me there.
When DTM returned
he brought with him The Bass Player and The South African Sounding
Watson proceeded to introduce me to them as “Hillary”. If only
that was the first time I'd been called Hillary, sadly it brought
back flashbacks of a trip to the snow in primary school and a week of
being called Hillary of the Hills by The Cute Ski Instructor who I
couldn't bear to correct. We stayed there for a bit and had a few
champagnes and ciders before deciding to head off and find something
to eat. By this stage The Hot One had left and it was becoming
obvious we weren't going to be catching up with anyone else. We
ended up at Jackson's On George for dinner (because we're
sophisticated and romantic like that) and my beef burger quite
possibly contained a whole cow. It helped soak up the ciders but
also helped contribute to a growing belly.
We
opted for a cab home just before 10pm and settled in to watch a
movie. I'm led to believe it was called Broken City
but after being told it starred Russel Crowe I really wasn't paying
that much attention. I tried my best to stay awake as Marky Mark
stalked Catherine Zeta Jones but Russel Crowe's fake tan and bad
American accent all proved too much and I fell asleep before the end.
I'm fairly confident I didn't miss much.
A quiet start to
this Thursday but a good one nonetheless as we enjoyed some booze and
some tunes and a public holiday. Any Thursday not spent at work is a
good Thursday.
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