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smokingbootI am better.
How could I not be, after that weekend?
Friday night was club night, and I met a friend I have never really had the chance to speak to properly. We didn't get the chance to speak then, because the music was too loud. I did, however, get to knock my beer all over her, a fitting end to a week of Clumsy Moron Attack. She was chilled about it, thank god. Why do I always spill things and drop things, and get stuff wrong? It's like a weird curse...
Fortunately, as it only extends to making me a grade a klutz rather than ruining my life, I can live with it/combat it and just pray that those around me don't kill me out of exasperation
And then there was Saturday. Paddling pools rock! Cocktails rock!
Sunshine and warm nights rock!
Most of all, friends really really rock. They Rock Right Off The Planet.
There is something about friends you can talk rubbish to, and they either get the point or are patient enough not to take offence, something about friends who bring cakes and flowers and their own something special, who will gamely leap into the pool and hose themselves down to entertain the world, something about friends who can play-flirt without an ounce of serious stuff creeping in, something about people you can relax with, people you can be deep with, people you can be a total idiot with.
Our friends are cool.
The next day was very blissed out. We and our remaining guests sat in the garden, stuff was cleared, a wonderful BBQ occurred, courtesy of Ephraim's culinary skills, and followed up by vanilla icecream and blackcurrent coulis, mmmmmmmm!
Oh, I forgot. Food rocks too.
One very sweet thing about the morning was seeing Navaho, Falco Biarmicus' husky, smiling and lying in the sun. What a face!
The front room is full of roses and lilies and the scent just lifts me up. I am happy today.
How could I not be, after that weekend?
Friday night was club night, and I met a friend I have never really had the chance to speak to properly. We didn't get the chance to speak then, because the music was too loud. I did, however, get to knock my beer all over her, a fitting end to a week of Clumsy Moron Attack. She was chilled about it, thank god. Why do I always spill things and drop things, and get stuff wrong? It's like a weird curse...
Fortunately, as it only extends to making me a grade a klutz rather than ruining my life, I can live with it/combat it and just pray that those around me don't kill me out of exasperation
And then there was Saturday. Paddling pools rock! Cocktails rock!
Sunshine and warm nights rock!
Most of all, friends really really rock. They Rock Right Off The Planet.
There is something about friends you can talk rubbish to, and they either get the point or are patient enough not to take offence, something about friends who bring cakes and flowers and their own something special, who will gamely leap into the pool and hose themselves down to entertain the world, something about friends who can play-flirt without an ounce of serious stuff creeping in, something about people you can relax with, people you can be deep with, people you can be a total idiot with.
Our friends are cool.
The next day was very blissed out. We and our remaining guests sat in the garden, stuff was cleared, a wonderful BBQ occurred, courtesy of Ephraim's culinary skills, and followed up by vanilla icecream and blackcurrent coulis, mmmmmmmm!
Oh, I forgot. Food rocks too.
One very sweet thing about the morning was seeing Navaho, Falco Biarmicus' husky, smiling and lying in the sun. What a face!
The front room is full of roses and lilies and the scent just lifts me up. I am happy today.
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