heels

☆ i started as VIP cocktail waitress on saturday night, and was both excited and a little nervous about it... in my vanity, i decided to wear high heels. i have such a short memory when it comes to heel torture. half way through the night, with battered swolen feet, weeping blisters and aching toes, i stormed into the change room, ripped them off (was close to throwing them in the rubbish bin) and pulled on my army boots... perhaps not quite so elegant with the little black dress, but by that point i was past caring.

working on the other side of the bar, it seemed like people were so much more rip-roaringly drunk than usual.... maybe they just behave themselves when they make their drink orders so as not to get cut off, then go back to swinging themselves all over the place... although i know i'm among the worst when i'm out drinking, i still found myself disgusted and embarrassed at these peoples inebriation.

on friday, a group of 17 year-olds at a private party tested their luck inside at the bar, red-faced, nervously placing their clueless orders, hoping to not be suspected. i was the ID nazi, pissed off even that they'd try to fool me... oh how long ago it seems that i was 15, sneaking into nightclubs, convincing the security guards that i was 25 with two kids back home, incredulous that they should even ask me for ID...

jerry left for sweden in the early morning and will be gone for 4 long days...he desperately misses his friends... i wish it were that easy for me to go home and visit...
i spent the afternoon at a hotel around the corner where my grandparents were staying after their trip around the UK. good old nanna and poppa! i hope that when i'm 80 i still have as much adventure left in me! we relaxed in the hotel lounge all afternoon, sipping tea and exchanging stories. they had said this would be their last overseas trip but now i'm dragging them to thailand next year for the wedding!