Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Another Belated Weekend Update
[Life] Blogs, beer & bruises... Oh yeah, and the strangest housewarming party ever.
(Continues...)
Friday
The weekend started late on Friday afternoon. It must've been months, or what seemed like months, since Mike, non-blogger-TJ and I caught up for over a beer or three. Reminiscing about Dude Days long past and going over what might happen when TJ heads back to the west; it was good and definately too long between drinks.
When we all parted again, I headed into the Wig & Pen for the drinks with some of Canberra's blogging crew that Mick had proposed. My memories of conversations are a little blurred, but I do remember talking with Mel about smoking, with Zoe about the disempowerment of the C word and with blogger-TJ about ugly people in glass houses. I remember talking to Ampersand Duck about something, but can't remember what, sorry Ducky. Was it podcasting? Mark was there too, as was Loadedog, but unfortunately Andy couldn't make it again this time around. Next time Andy. Oh, and next time can we work dinner into the schedule please?
Saturday
My part in Saturday morning's O League drunken soccer lasted about ten minutes. When the People attack, they attack with conviction; General Bone engaged with such force that I was left to limp to the benches once I could walk after the tackle. The point of impact turned a strange purple colour, then purple with a red centre. It's now yellow with a red centre & should be back to normal by the next game. After much mottling at the hands feet of General Bone, I'm buying shin pads.
I should've spent the afternoon out in the sun reading, but feeling tired & sore, all I did was throw down two steak burgers from the Highgate before falling asleep on the couch in front of Anchorman. I managed to only doze lightly through Twister.
I don't think any amount of rest could've prepared me for the evening to come. I headed northside to a housewarming party of an old uni tutor of mine from Brisbane. He'd just moved in with a couple, one of whom was a type of person I didn't think I'd ever meet as long as I'd live. She seemed normal; polite, able to make small-talk and seemingly able to share a smoke & a joke with her friends. But there was something not quite right, something that simmered just below the skin and only boiled over after a few hours.
I thought that by taking my time getting ready and having dinner, the party would be well underway by the time I got there. I arrived to find only a handful of people sitting in the backyard chain-smoking. It was only when the conversations around the table reached natural pauses that I noticed something was wrong; other than the occassional passing car and distant sirens, there was silence. No music. It was a while before others noticed too, and some of the guests started asking the one of the hosts to put some on when he went inside for more chairs or drinks, but no tunes came. One party guest started singing Tenacious D's F*ck Her Gently, first solo, then others joined in. Still no tunes came.
After some negotiations, the hosts declared that for one night only smoking would be allowed inside the house. With no barrel of fire nor braizier outside, I was more than happy for the gathering to move inside. With central heating and a stereo inside I was still hopeful that the now-growing gathering could graduate into a proper party; friends of friends were starting to arrive. This, however, only made the hostess appear more uncomfortable. That the new party people looked as if they'd spent the whole day in the pub already probably didn't help what was coming.
My cue to depart came around 11pm. More tangentially-invited partiers were arriving. They were cheerful and noticed the lack of tunes immediately. "Hey, where's the music?" one shouted. The hostess grimaced. "C'mon, the stereo's right there!" The hostesses shoulders rolled in; something was welling-up within. "C, how about some quiet background music?" asked one guest delicately. The hostess started to shake and sob, until it burst out
"I, I, I JUST DON'T WANT ANY NOISE! I CAN'T HANDLE IT!"
Sitting across the loungeroom, I downed my drink quickly, said my goodbyes and left. The fallout couldn't have gone well. If it'd been a guest someone could've suggested that it was time for them to go, or to at least go and have a lie down, but when a host loses it a party can only go downhill rapidly. I just wonder why someone who didn't like people in her place nor music thought it'd be a good idea to throw a party. I didn't think anti-music people existed in the world; I always thought people would like some form of music. I never ever thought that I'd encounter someone who didn't like music at all. Well, live & learn.
Sunday
It so happened that Dan - one of my 43 cousins (on Mum's side) - was in town for the weekend visiting his ex who'd moved here for a job and that ex just happens to live two streets away from me. So, Sunday morning we wandered into Green Square for breakfast at the Black Swan. For two hours we sat in the sun eating & chatting; everything was grand, until it was time to pay the bill. The stupid woman running the place wouldn't accept that she should incure any losses caused by errors made by her staff. She accused us of ripping her off when we objected to paying for items on the bill that weren't ordered (and were specifically mentioned that we didn't want when asked) but that were delivered regardless. Stupid woman.
The afternoon was spent northside at Jimmy & Erica's new place, on the same street as the old Troika HQ. Everything was so bright & new, it seemed like something directly out of a Freedom catalogue. I'm really looking forward to seeing the place again once all of their travel pictures are up. They have so many cool travel stories.
[Tags: Life, Canberra, Australia]
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You are as hard as custard with a little pea for a heart!
The black swan is one of the dodgier places for that type of thing in all of Canberra. An ex-staff member informed me of the continual practice of ripping people off in that place. Besides the fact that the owner pays her staff like crap.
Much better for breakfast is Pizzazz. (Another Kingston local)
once at Black Swan they put our meal down on two other tables, beofre picking it up and giving it to us..l.noice.
I haven't been back. Pity - it used to be the cheapest (and decent) breakfast around.\
seepi