Friday Nights Alright for Flirting

So my friend Ree invited me up to her place for cocktails last night. Sweet, something to do on a Friday night so I was glad to be invited. Now, my friend Ree is kind of a reformed wild girl - she's a few years older than me, she has three sons and after her husband passed away she went of the rails a little. But she's one of these people who have an infectious enthusiasm for life, so its great to see she's seetled back down somewhat, but has still maintained her " you're only as young as you feel " views. I'm kind of proud of her for that actually - Lord knows it cant be easy trying to raise three children on your own after losing your husband, whilst still keeping a part of your life for yourself. My point is, whenever Ree gets the chance to have some fun, she does the fun up right. So what if some of the people who said they were coming didnt turn up ? Those of us who were there had us some pink champagne cocktails and a big, girly chatfest ( you know, clothes, shoes, sex.... all the good stuff ). After a few hours of drinking at her house, we decided going out to the pub would be a good idea, it being a Friday night after all. Ace!

She had told me earlier that the very casual dress code for the cocktails was " classy " so i chose to wear my darkest pair of trouser-cut jeans, a crisp cotton cami, tan open-toe stacked heels and a cute necklace. I didnt scrub up too badly for a girl who didnt have a lot of time to plan her outfit, and i was glad i was able to pull that outfit together because I would have felt a little out of place at the pub if i had just worn jeans and a t-shirt. The point of all this talk of my appearance is - I was not expecting in the least to pick up. Thats right folks, i said " pick up ". Who knew that a woman dressed like a lady could get a guys attention ahead of girls dressed as skanks ?

I dont mean that to sound crude, but i like to have a little decorum, a little class in the way i dress and speak and present myself ( on most occasions ), so it came as a suprise to find myself getting a little special attention on the dancefloor, ahead of the girls wearing mini skirts and tops that they could potentially fall out of. He was cute - not much taller than me ( but hey, short guys need loving too ), had the build of a football player and some sexy stubble going on. The fact that he was dancing up against me with his hand on my hip was enough - this girl was sold. I'm ashamed to say, but i didnt actually catch his name - he did tell me but its that noisy on the dancefloor that i couldnt quite make it out. Brendan? Nathan ? Benjamin ? Something like that..... This did not, however, stop me from spending some good, quality time with my lips glued to his, and getting a slight case of pash rash. Yes, sometimes, I am THAT girl, the one who is bumping into you and your friends because she's too busy kissing random cute dudes. Oh, and while i'm busy feeding you all ( ok, most of ... ) the juicy details, as best as i can figure out Mystery Stubble Guy is probably 20 years old at the most. Yes, that now makes me a cougar.

Don't judge me! I gave MSG my number, I had a freaking great night, and isnt every girl allowed her " i was a little tipsy, plus it WAS really noisy " indescretions?

Burfday weekend rundown

So that, right there , is my beautiful sister Erin. Doesnt she look cute? The angle of the eyeborws looks slightly wicked, but thats how she is really. So, just in case any of you have been living under a rock, or reading my posts without actually understanding them, this past Friday was Erin's 18th birthday. I am slightly sad to say that the weekend was a bit of a bust for me, but very happy to say she partied hard and loved it all ( after all, her birthday is about HER, not me ). Let me explain:
I'd taken the day off work on Friday so that we could hang out - i thought it might be nice to share the whole day with her, plus the idea of a day off for any reason was appealing. So while she was having a facial and a massage i hit the gym, and then we met back at home so we could go out for lunch. Not just any lunch mind you, but " $10 Tradie Lunch ", the best invention in the world. Basically one of the local pub bistro's offer a choice of meal, plus a drink, for only $10. I had the best chicken carbonara EVER - seriously - and enjoyed the company of my mother, my sister and her best friend.

Next on the agenda ? Tattoo time! Now we all know that i have four tattoos ( you knew that, right ? ) but i think i started a trend in my family. Since i got my first one, my father and brother have both been inked, and now it was Erins turn. She had to wait, legally, until she turned 18 to get tattooed but, in a stroke of genius, she decided to ask my parents if she get a tattoo as a birthday present - that way she wouldnt have to pay for it. And they agreed - well done little Erin! So my father and I went with her, less for moral support and more so we could witness the looks of mild pain and agitation on her face as the job was being done. Does that make us nasty ? No, just family. The tattooist Paul is a sweet guy though so he was always enquiring whether she was doing okay, did she want to stop for a break, stretch her legs, things like that, so he didnt make to easy for us to get inside her head. Incidentally, in a brief taste of D-list fame, Paul holds the world record for the longest tattooing session ever ( 42 hours people ).... take that " Miami Ink" !

So after lunch, the tattoo session and the traditional gathering for birthday cake ( caramel mud cake... uh, yum.... ), the immediate family went out for dinner. Witness below the astonishing beauty that was us ( ahem... yea, right ):








So thats her and, uh, me posing for a happy snap before the dinner arrived. For the record, my garlic chicken and prawns was lovely, thank you for asking. The place we went for dinner is a balcony resturant above my favourite pub, so it has a great atmosphere and made it really easy to move on after dinner. My heavily pregnant sister-in-law, neice and my flu-ey father went home after we'd eaten, and myself, my mum, brother and little Erin headed downstairs. Friday nights are always a little bit of a bust - i'm glad she wasnt completely geared up for a huge night, because Fridays tend to be a little quiet and the problem with eating out before hitting the pub is that there is usally a period between the end of the meal and the point in the night where other people start turning up. That period is the one that gets you - you get bored waiting for some action to arrive, and if your a birthday girl who woke up really early and has been running around all day you start to get a little tired too. So we had a few quiet drinks and decided to head home around 10pm. Kind of an early time to be calling it an evening, but my brother had to work in the morning, my mum is NOT a party animal,and the birthday girl was happy to have been able to get a few drinks in with her nearest and dearets. Aww, bless.

Which leads me to Saturday:

Nevermind the fact that I look completely washed out in that photo ( if you could get closer I had really sweet gold eyeshadow and black liner... it was cute! ) but, for me, the night was a bit of a washout. I was really looking forward to it - my best friend P ( thats her in the dots ) was going to be home, it was going to be my sisters first big night out and my first big night out for 6 months. And for a while, it was great: P and I had a great dinner together and then joined my sister and some friends at the pub. We started having some drinks and got to dancing - god, how i missed pub dancing! - and it was all going great. And then code name Mary showed up. I cant believe i let her ruin my night. One minute i'm dancing a way, not a care in the world and the next there she is, shotting me the death stare.

Once i knew she was there, she was EVERYWHERE. Turns out she was one of Erins friends cousins, so after having a short toilet break, P and I returned to the dancefloor to find Mary dancing with our group. That was it - i could not be there and have her either giving me the evil eye or, alternatively, completely ignoring me and making me feel uncomfortable in my own group. Once P decided she was going to go, I couldnt stay on my own, even though my sister was there living it up. I gave her amy apologies and told her if Mary was going to be hanging around, i couldnt.My sister, in her 18 year old wisdom, loudly announced she'd throw a drink in Mary's face, her tell her to piss off, because its not fair that i should be made to feel that way. Knowing that if she did try any of that, the situation would only be worse, I made my exit.

I'm really cut at myself for letting her ruin my night. I'd been excited about celebrating with my sister for weeks and, on the actual night, i skulked home before midnight. All because some girl with apparent issues has some cold of emotional hold over me. My sister showed me all her photos in the morning, and excitedly told me about how the rest of the night went, and she had such a great time. It only made me feel worse for having missed out. So apparently i'm going to have to suck it up, and learn to ignore Mary - its just hard because i'm very non-confrontational, and i always feel that if i'm in " her " way too long, she's going to go off her nut again. My only other option is to pack up and move to some place she doesnt live. Poo to that, and poo to her!

And so endeth the burfday weekend adventures. Overall, i know my sister had a great weekend and thats all matters. Plus, my hair looked h-o-t on Friday and i had sexy shoes last night - beat that Mary!

24.10.08

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ERIN JAYNE!!!

Okay, so in case you havent been following my blog, today is my little sisters 18th birthday. Happy burfday to her! We kind of have a full day ahead of us ( i have taken the day off work so we could hang out ) : we're almost ready to go to lunch, then she has an appointment at the tattoo parlour to have her first tatoo done, after that people will be turning up for birthday cake and then the whole immediaqte family is going out for birthday dinner. Ooh, plus, seeing as 18 is the legal drinking age in Australia, tonight will be her first real taste of Aussie pub culture - yay for that!

So she and I are going out tonight and tomorrow night aswell. Its been a while since i've been out both nights of the weekend so i'm expecting to feel, i dont know, like a 100 years old come Sunday afternoon. Everyone look forward to my posts after that....

" So how was it ? " - " Umm, yea, it was alright ".

So, I had a date last night with a guy i met through Match.com, and that was my reaction to it. It wasn’t that it was entirely terrible, it just wasn’t great. It wasn’t one of those dates where you’re really excited that the night is almost over because you anticipate getting a goodnight kiss; it wasn’t even one of those dates that you get home and you go “ I had a really good time – i hope he calls! “ This was more like “ Oh, it was nice, he was nice, just the whole thing was a little – meh”. And i hate to say it, because my date – lets call him Average Joe – really does seem like a nice, well intentioned kind of guy. Just not the nice, well intentioned kind of guy that i am into.

We had been sending each other emails for about two weeks and decided it seemed like the right time to meet up, so we organised a movie. Joe lives in a town about an hour and half away, so he drove in for the night. We had been joking before about his deep and abiding love for milkshakes, so i figured before the movie we’d take a stroll down to my local ice creamery where he could pick a good, old fashioned milkshake. He offered to buy something and when i declined, saying i didn’t want anything, he ordered me a large Slushy anyway. “ Thats what you were angling for, right ? “ Whats up with that? So by saying no, thank you, i’m not thirsty right now I am somehow subliminally asking for a large Slushy? We watched “ Eagle Eye “ – a film I had been looking forward to – and i discovered Joe likes to talk during the movies. I mean, call me fussy, tell me i’m being a little anal, but talking during a film is a big no-no with me. We followed up the film with a drink or two at my favourite local pub. The conversation was mostly good, but i had alternating moments of interest and boredom. There were things he said that made sense, and a handful of things that just rang “ Incompatible! “ bells in my head. For example, he was asking me about my family and asked if we are close. I said sure, we’re close on my mothers side, everyone usually comes home for Christmas, i love my toddler aged cousins etc etc; he says he doesn’t enjoy big family gatherings and cant see a big family Christmas being something he would be into. Yes, you’re right, only a minor detail now, but if a relationship were to progress wouldn’t family big a big issue ? Methinks so.

So I’m in two minds now. He has sent me a message today saying he had a great time, he would love to do it again – but i’m thinking if we were to do it again we’d only end up friends. There were no fireworks for me last night at all. I left thinking he was a nice guy, it was a decent way to pass the time, but that was it. No wondering about whether he would call or not; No running conversations back through my head to make sure i sounded intelligent; No scrutinising his behaviour to see if he was giving me “ signals “. If none of that is happening, i’m thinking he’s just not my type, however nice he might be.

To put it in terms men might be able to understand – as explained by the most awesome Andy – i’m thinking young Joe is about to fall into “ friend territory “.

Oh lord, now i'm starting to count down....

I cant believe its almost the 8th day of the month and i've only made one post. What in the crap is up with that ? What have i been doing ? Truth be told, not s very much, but hey, it was a long weekend. I was content to sleep in, eat a late lunch, and watch bad cable tv. I introduced my father to " Date My Mom " and " Room Raiders " on MTV - i secretly think he liked them ( i'm sure i caught him watching that horrid soap " Passions " once ..... ).

So, now that the long weekend is over the next thing on my calendar that i'm looking forward to is my sisters 18th birthday in 17 days time. For those of you who dont know, 18 is the legal drinking age here in Australia so its the birthday where you get to go to a bar for the first time and get trashed with your friends and your older sister. Umm, i mean, you get taken out and shown how to drink responsibly. Of course thats what i mean. So everyone in our immediate family plus my best friend P is taking my sister out for dinner and then we're moving downstairs to the bar. I kind of like that my sister invited P, and i know P appreciates it to, seeing as she doesnt have a sister of her own. And, o0f course, my sister has friends of her own but she's going out with them the night after her birthday. She's chosen to go out with her family first ? Aint that sweet?

Anyhoo, i'm not sure why exactly i'm so looking forward to someone else's birthday. It is probably mostly because i havent been out since P's hens party ( the night of the Mary incident ). I mean, i went from going out every Saturday night, leaving the house at around 10:30am and getting home around 3am, to not going out at all for an entire 6 months. Its been a big jump and, to be honest, i've missed it sometimes. I've missed Mary's sisters ( lets call her MS ) friendship, for sure, but i've also just missed the atmosphere of a crowded bar, dj playing, people dancing, escaping the hot dance floor for some fresh outside. I wasnt like a disco diva or anything, i just liked being around so many people, even if i hardly knew any of them. I've missed sitting in MS's bedroom drinking a bottle of cheap champagne before we went out, gossiping and laughing our arses off. I've missed that.

So, come the evening of October 24th i'm going to put on a slinky dress, some cute heels, do my makeup all pretty like and i'm taking my sister out - for the photographic evidence please refer back here after that date, or find yourself my Facebook page....

Saturday night fever

Its Monday night and i'm already pining for the weekend.... isnt that sad ? And its not because i absolute hate work ( although i am doing stocktake tomorrow and, as anybody who has ever worked in a retail environment will tell you, stocktake sucks ass ) but its because the weekend has so much more potential for fun.

I get to sleep in and then hang out. Most of the time i dont have anyone in particular to hang out with during the day but that just means i can please myself - go shopping ( ok, window shopping ), watch a movie, just drive around town with my windows down and my music turned up. Sometimes pleasing yourself can be boring, or lonely, but most of the time i focus on the fact that its the weekend... who has time to be depressed on weekends?

Its actually Saturday nights that i look forward too. I know its stupid, juvenile even, you'd think someone my age would be over going to the pub every weekend, but i'm not. I look forward to getting dressed up every weekend, seeing how sexy or stylish or cool i can make myself look on a week to week basis; to catching up with my very good friend AJ, even though she's the same person i go out with every week; to seeing who else is out that i know, so i can chit chat with them; to having random conversations in the womens loo, maybe comforting a fellow female in need after some arsehole guy has wronged her; to having the occasional flirt either with a drunk older guy who is like TOTALLY into me, or a cute younger guy who is obvious just trying it on with an older woman. Mostly i just look forward to the people watching because i'm an observer by nature. I dont claim that my local hangouts are everybody's thing - i know one of you has experienced the DubVegas pub culture with me first hand i dont remember it as being too thrilling of a night - but its something to do, to keep busy, to say that you've actually been somewhere and seen somebody this week.

And i guess thats what it, and this post comes down to - seeing people, doing things, writing stuff, just to prove i'm still alive...

Have you met my friend Horse ?

Well, i have come to the conclusion that i am just going to have to throw myself out there more - its the only way to meet people. Not just potential male love interest type persons, but anyone. New friends, colleagues, acquaintances. And, as such, i started my little exercise last night. It bore some fruit i suppose - i did have a nice little flirt/chat thing with a cute guy who was probably no older than 18 ( i'm such an old hag... ) and his friend, Horse ( and yes, apparently there was a reason for that nickname - unfortunately i investigated no further ) and had my bum squuezed about 30 times by several members of the Rebel motorcycle club who happened to be hanging out in one of my local pubs. Normally i wouldt really stand for that much touchy-feelyness but hey, i didnt want to get on the wrong side of them and get stabbed in the neck or something so i just let them fell away. So sure, i had a few random conversations with individuals whom i've never met before and that kept me amused for the evening, but nothing more than that - yet.

My new found courage, as it were, to put myself out there also surfaced today when i decided to text this guy friend i have that i ran into last night to tell him i should have bought him a drink. We've had a few kisses before and he's pretty damn cute, so hell, why not ? The least i can do is test the waters right ? Either he goes for it or he thinks i'm a stupid tart, but hey, at least i gave it a shot. The good thing is, however, that if he doesnt go for it and thinks our text conversation was just the height of hilarity, is that he isnt out very often so by the time i do see him out again he will probably have forgotten it all.

So there you be - some semi-fun and frothy from me instead of depressing shit that i seem to be posting lately. Dont worry, i've noticed it, i know its been sad crap, but sometimes my past depression hits in new waves that wash over me pretty quickly. Actually, sometimes i worry i might be manic-depressive but thats a whole other post now, isnt it ?

Did you just touch my arse ?

Its a valid question - so why do those male type persons feel the need to lie when i ask them ? Not that random men are grabbing my rear end every day of the week - but it does commonly occur on a Saturday night. Not necessarily a grab - it could be anywhere from a brush, to a squeeze - but it mainly happens on the dancefloor or pushing my way through a crowd at one of my local watering holes. Now dont get me wrong - i dont really mind my bum being grabbed ( its kind of flattering actually, i mean i work hard for my bum to look appealing .... ) as long as your not too aggressive about it but... why lie ? I know you did it, why not just own up ? For example, i'm on my way to the bathroom, the walk ways are crowded, some idiots are having a freaking hens meeting in the door way so nobody else can get past so i'm kind of stuck in traffic and there it is - a very subtle squeeze of my posterior. I felt it - it wasnt an accidental brush of someones else's hand as they were trying to push past - it was a squeeze ok ? So i turn around and ask the guy sitting at the table directly behind me " Excuse me, did you just touch my arse ? " And what does he say " Umm...uh... no ? " And thats how he said it too - kind of like a question, like he wasnt sure if he should be saying yes or no. And lets face it, i can also tell he's lying because his eyes have gone from my bum ( probably, i mean i dont have eyes in the back of my head or anything ... ) to my cleavage ( of which there was much last night, i was kind of overly boobalicious ). Now had he said yes, i probably would have started some kind of semi-awkard conversation with him, if only for the perverse pleasure of watching him squirm, hoping it might turn into one of those really random pub conversations you tell your friends about; but no, he looks me in the cleavage and then lies.

And, quite frankly, i'm not really into liars, especially those who squeeze my bottom without asking and then lie straight to my breasts.