Last week was kinda hectic for this roaming blogger...
...
It included about 1700km of driving, two cattle sales, three meetings, helping to herd a group of bush kids around Dreamworld and White Water World, a visit with Violet to the State Library (fabulous place!), a spot of Christmas shopping and my tri-annual mega-grocery haul... and catching up with my city friends. They are a wonderful patient lot, my mates from the Big Smoke... quite used to me doling out little bits of my time here and there for hurried catch-ups. (And I hope the ones I didn't manage to see this time, will know that they are top of the agenda next visit. You know who you are!)
...
This visit also saw a small bloggy catch-up.
Well it was really a Twitter Catch Up for people who also Blog.
The subset of which happened to be in Fortitude Valley last Thursday night.
And the subset of the subset who happened to be married to younger men.
Quite a select group really.
A chatty blogging group of cradle snatchers.
We are thinking of calling ourselves Cha-blo-cra-s'ners (or 'Crassy' for short).
Not really.
But you know, if the drinks had been a little cheaper at our chosen venue, this might have come up in our wide-ranging discussions. Which brings me neatly to The Venue.
We met at a fabulous place recommended by my dear friend Gee.
Gee is a local (who actually grew up in my hometown but has been thoroughly city-fied) and is quite used to the upmarket, shiny-shiny fabulousness of this area.
Me? I've only been gone two-and-a-half years from the bright lights, but apparently I have lost all semblence of sophistication in this period. Cause this place kinda blew me away.
This is the foyer of our chosen venue...
Now you will have to forgive me here, but while this is as impressive as heck...
it kind of reminds me of a *ahem* high class brothel.
Not that I have ever been to visit one (said she hastily).
But the red... is very... well, RED.
And glowy.
And don't get me started on that chandelier...
...
The drinks area tucked in behind this daunting entry was actually quite lovely.
The dude playing the guitar and singing was very friendly (and a bit wink-y).
And the wait staff couldn't have been more helpful really.
A lovely waitress helped me open the menu to the cocktails page.
Which was good, because the shock wearing off from the extreme rouge entry was soon replaced by a second wave inspired by the $18 starting price of mixed drinks.
Not only am I a cultural heathen, I am also apparently as tight as a fish's...um... 'out' door.
Luckily Gee, who loves me regardless of my conservative, heathen, fiscally-challenged tendencies, and my wonderful bloggy friends Rhubarb and Tracey, held me steady as I sipped carefully on my house chardonnay.
...
Sorry...what's that?
You want to MEET these lovely ladies?
Well, it
just so happens that I did have my camera with me, and managed to talk my friend Gee into being shutterbug, and I
may also have twisted a couple of arms, and convinced my blog buddies to bare themselves for all to see... they are a shy bunch, but I am very, very bossy when the occasion calls for harrassment.
That's
moi (
the stunned mullet with the Luna Park grin, nursing her 1/4 glass of vino),
Rhubarb (
the sexy beast) and
Trace (
with her wonderful smile and blue eyes... she tells me they are really green, but according to the Nikon, they are blue. Go figure!).
...
The two on the right managed (somehow) to forgive the alleged organiser of the event (that'd be me, if you are having trouble keeping track) for failing to pass on vital organisational information. Information such as whether this was to be a "dinner" event, or a "drinks after dinner" event. Seeing as how I have young children, and seeing as how Trace was operating on 'Mickey Mouse' time (aka Daylight Saving) I assumed the 8pm timeslot would automatically mean the latter option. Apparently not.
...
And I do admit we ran a little late for the actual time suggested ... Gee has three little ones, including a four-month-old cherub, and my Violet decided to throw the hissy-fit of the century upon discovering Mummy was going out after she went to bed. A lot of last-minute bribery and corruption was called on to allow us to get out of that front door (thanks Gee's hubba-hubby!). My lovely companions posed gamely for the camera despite their growling tummies. I am hoping they were being good sports, and not biding their time to decimate me in an upcoming post?
*bats eyelids furiously*
...
Gee was called on to recommend a nearby eating place and we rectified the situation (narrowly avoiding the treacherous condition which our mutually admired blog-goddess - The Pioneer Woman - refers to as Low Blood Sugar Cranky Butt Disorder (LBSCBD)). This disaster was averted with some Turkish fare, allowing the chatter to go on deep into the evening. My non-blogging buddy Gee steadfastly hung in through the Wordpress-versus-Blogger debate, and even the HTML chat (actually, I have to confess that I may have glazed slightly during this section).
We were charmed completely by Tracey and her twinkling sense of humour, down-to-earth outlook and amazing generosity in travelling five hours just to meet us all. And Rhubarb (Rhubarb, Rhubarb)... whose health battle was completely unapparent in person (she swears by mineral makeup, so I immediately bought some the following day) and whose wicked wit kept us all in stitches.
...
And so we are all now safely back in the comfort of our own homes -
Rhubarb in her urban seaside den,
Trace in her Mexican (sorry, New South Wales) ocean-overlooking village abode,
and me... me a very long way from any waves at all.
Back in the bush.
With the goannas and roos
and some sweet memories of the night I made
two almost-strangers starve in a high-class brothel.
