seven stitches

❊ riding my bike to belly dance class this morning, i somehow lost control of the thing and smashed directly into a parked car, 50 metres from my house. my knee was a bleeding mess, my bike's basket shattered into a million cane pieces and was scattered over the road, along with the car's rear light.
a group of darling old ladies who happened to be walking past came over to comfort me and as soon as jerry arrived they insisted he take me directly to hospital.
at the london university hospital emergency ward, the nurse informed me that i'd need stitches and that by a stroke of luck, there was a plastic surgeon helping out in the hospital today, who could stitch it up for me. 'great, maybe he can fix a few other things while he's at it!'...
rishie was a fabulous surgeon and a lovely guy. although he refused to throw in some botox , he did a great job of the seven stitches and i left feeling as good as new! i will have a limp for a while, and a whopping scar but hey, it could've been worse..

westfields

✺ jerry and i spent the day yesterday at our new favourite place: westfields shopping mall... we bought a few bits and pieces, feasted in the food court (was slightly disappointed with the salad, which doesn't compare at all to the spicy vietnamese soup) and watched an 'australian promotional expo show' going on in the stage area. there were 'priscilla queen of the desert' drag queens in huge garish costumes, singing all the typical gay songs, competitions to win tickets to big australian sporting events and an exhibition of enormous photos depicting scenes of australian nature; magnificent forests, sunsets over beaches, red deserts, the 12 apostles, people feeding kangaroos, swimming with whales.... it made me so nostalgic! jerry can't believe why anyone who's from australia would want to move to miserable london. i reminded him that if only he could get a visa, we could go...

jerry's friend 'balloon' who he met on survivor, called us asking us out for dinner. him and his fiance were passing through london on the way to miami. we met them at his 'london pad' in knightsbridge for some pre-dinner drinks and then went out to 'ciro's pomodoro', a quirky italian basement restaurant which was jammed full even at ten o'clock on a wednesday night. the place was covered, wall to wall, with snapshots of ciro along with every celebrity who's ever dined there. even the menu was covered in his celebrity pictures... i ate the quattro formaggi pizza which is, according to the menu, 'patrick swayze's favourite'.. it was really good.

balloon's fiance anna was lovely (it goes with the name ;o) and balloon is always a good laugh. jerry and him met during survivor. the first survivor photo i ever saw of jerry was with balloon, the two of them standing on the malaysian beach, hairy, emaciated and with what i thought were ripping tans. 'no thats not a tan, that's dirt embedded into the skin from two months of not washing'.... lovely.
i'm so envious of jerry's survivor experience. the stories he has could fill a gripping novel. in fact i may suggest being his ghost writer and doing just that....

'lose the attitude, youre only a shop assistant!'

❊ after two days of wedding dress shopping i've come to appreciate how much easier online shopping is! for starters you don't have to deal with pretentious snobby shop assistants who think they've designed the clothes themselves, openly look you up and down as soon as you walk in and are masters at the fake smile.

i dragged my cousin kayla to selfridges to check out vera wang's wedding dresses.. and discovered there were no minis in the collection....nor at any other bridal shop! the 'personal shopping' ladies weren't much help either....i realised that what i'm looking for is not really a traditional wedding dress.. so we headed down new bond street to search for white party dresses in all the designer shops. i very rarely go into shops like dolce & gabbana, armani or chanel, and i realised why... as soon as you walk in, you know that they know that you cant afford to be in there and you spend the whole time pretending to be seriously considering the average looking things with ridiculous price tags....

the people who work in all these shops are such miserable haughty-taughties that i wonder if that's a pre-requisite for getting the job- 'can you look down on customers and make them feel uncomfortable, inferior and poor?'..'hows your fake smile?'
in collette dinighan i could see the mockery in the girls eyes and i so felt like doing a 'patsy' from absolutely fabulous. 'hey, lose the attitude, you're only a shop-assistant!'

needless to say, i didnt find my wedding dress. winter has totally invaded all the shops (already!!) which now only stock thick tweed coats and wooly jumpers.
...back to the web then.

:o)

prince harry

❆ the crappy thing about working weekends is that you always miss normal peoples parties and events. or you go but always have to leave early. last night was my cousin's girlfriend's birthday party in covent garden. we met them at b@1 and moved on to dirty martini, which id heard so much about from all my colleagues who used to work there.. it was really plush in there and the chocolate martini was to-die-for!

i of course had to leave early for work, but i was happy to be cocktail waitressing! i love serving the VIPs because its different every night- you never know which guests you'll get, how much you'll manage to sell for, how much you'll make in tips....;o)

the VIP area was extra interesting last night since prince harry and his friends were at one of the tables. my colleague angela was serving him but since they were sitting at the entrance to the VIP area, i had to walk past them all night. at one point his friend stopped me to kiss my hand, then i accidentally knocked into harry and he did a mock cry of pain with a little twinkle in his eye. from then, the flirting began and each time i walked past he'd try to catch my eye. then he asked angela 'who's your mate with the long black hair?'... 'thats anna. she's getting married next year so bad luck there'.

i was later at the waitress station getting champagne from jerry and someone squeezed up beside me at the bar. 'so where are you getting married?'.....i turned to face him.. 'in thailand!'... 'and where are you from, australia or new zealand?' ....he was very smooth and witty and not pompous at all which impressed me. we chatted for a few minutes and then after he flew off outside, jerry sauntered back over.. 'who was that?'...'that was prince harry baby, you're competing for my affections with royalty tonight..' :o)

later, harry told angela that he'd made a cock of himself with me. angela asked him didnt he have a girlfriend anyway and he replied that they'd broken up three weeks ago... i felt quite flattered to be considered as the prince's rebound.. and now jerry calls me princess harry :o)

belly dancing

❊ i joined a belly dance class at the gym three weeks ago and i'm absolutely loving it. jerry jeers at it, calling belly dancing wanky and 1990's, and so it may be, but i think its one of the most sensual dance styles. every move; every sway of the hip, shake of the buttox, every thrust of the breasts, every shoulder shimmy breathes sex and sensuality...

i did a belly dance course years ago in melbourne and became so obsessed with it that i bought the whole costume: coin scarf belt, silk cape, belly chain etc... i used to come home and do amateur demonstrations to my housemates to the 'kiss kiss' song, at that time just covered by holly valance.

my belly dance teacher was a gorgeous woman (although a bit of a plastic fantastic, mutton dressed as lamb, but to be fair, ill probably be the same when i'm her age!) .... :o) anyway, she used to invite me to her shows, competitions and turkish belly dancing dinner events. they were spectacular displays with proper stage lighting, music and choreography and breath-taking costumes. i used to drag my ex boyfriend along to all the shows and one night after my teacher's performance, while i was away powdering my nose, she cornered him in that dark turkish restaurant and propositioned him! i guess the dance works as an aphrodisiac for both audience and performer!

my teacher at the gym, johara, is a lovely woman, and very intent on us learning the moves properly and perfectly. today we mastered the chest lift.. jerry's somewhat more interested in belly dancing when i'm practising that one.
:o)

hawaiian night

❀ jerry's back in london :o)... i hate it when he ditches me for sweden, but no amount of sooking and moaning will keep him from going. his defence is always the same. 'you can come with me'.... maybe next time..
last night we worked together in the flamingo bar for a hawaiian themed private party. the event organisers went to so much effort decorating the place. there were flowers and ferns and fairy lights everywhere, the old elvis movie 'blue hawaii' playing on big screens and 1950's tropical music pumping.. outside in the garden around the barbecue, there was a fantastic atmosphere with three authentic hawaiian dancers whirling around in straw skirts and half coconuts entertaining everybody...and my old friend ollie from thailand was working the fun photo booth again so i dragged jerry in to take a hawaiian snap.

i was nursing a slight hangover from vogue fashion night so was happy to be in the quiet bar, only serving beer and wine... as we watched elvis lounging on the beach in hawaii, jerry dreamed about having a time machine... 'if you went back in time to become rich, you'd never have gone to work on the crusie ship and so you'd never have met me'... i said. ..'no i don't want a time machine for that.. i want one just to go back to hawaii in the 60's for a holiday.'

we got home at 3am and tore into my latest favourite thing... linda mccartney vegetarian sausages, which are £1 for a box of six at the cheap supermarket around the corner and taste really gourmet! even jerry, who's expressively anti-vegetarian, admitted they were good...

vogue fashion night ♥

❉ we regularly receive mail for the guy who lived in our apartment before us, who has a completely unpronounceable greek name. a pile of letters has built up over the months, which i will give him if he ever drops by. but last week one of his letters drew my attention. the expensive pinstripe envelope promised magical contents. it was just begging to be opened.... i discovered inside a very classy invitation to a 'vogue fashion night' at the designer shoe shop 'salvatore feragamo'.

me and salvatore go way back to when i bought a pair of his $450 sunglasses, wore them into the sea in byron bay and had them smashed off my face and dragged away by the waves.... i felt we somehow had a score to settle.
i RSVPed to the number on the invitation, and asked my cousin kayla, who's just arrived in london, if she would care for some free cocktails and canapes..

we arrived in old bond street, the place to be during fashion week apparently... all the designer shops had red carpet, queues to get in and paparazzi snapping away at all the celebrities getting out of expensive cars.. thandie newton walked right past me into the armani party.
we were greeted at salvatore feragamo with champagne, but after having 3 glasses, and trying on a couple of pairs of shoes, we realised this was one of the tamer parties in the street. the big event of the evening was the prize draw for a pair of shoes which i was sure i was going to win and then didn't...

by chance we started talking to two girls, emily & gina, who were from 'fashion TV'. emily admired my outfit, asking who my jacket was by, my shoes, my watch... and was surprised when i told her i didn't work in fashion. i felt pink with delight at receiving compliments from a fashionista.. her and gina were super lovely. emily promised to link her blog to mine and invited us to fashion TV's big event on friday night, and gina who's also a film producer, told me she'd get me into an assistant job on set if i wanted... i was totally high with excitement! the girls asked us if we wanted to ditch salvatore for a better party.. hell yeah!

DKNY down the street was much more pumping and we jumped the line straight in, being from fashion TV... ;o)
inside was a rocking party; funky live band, luscious lychee cocktails and models models models. i ran into hugo, the haughty PR guy from my old job at the pub who was always slightly flirtatious in an arrogant condescending way. i went up to say hi and his response was 'wow, you look so... different.' ..what, from the pub uniform of mens baggy polo shirt and jeans which made us all look like rugby-playing bull-dikes...? i would hope so!
the girls mingled and networked while kayla and i partied. holly, a friend from oz who we'd also invited, arrived and we had a fun catch up.

although i felt like a bit of a fraud, partying in that place full of VIP fashionistas, i had an absolute ball and later stumbled merrily back to the tube, so glad that i'd 'happened upon' that vogue fashion night invitation... ;o)

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!

the lotus eaters

lotus eater: 1. From Greek Mythology; One of a people described in the Odyssey who lived in a drugged, indolent state from feeding on the lotus. 2. A lazy person devoted to pleasure and luxury.

what fun it was, being a lotus eater today. i arrived at the grand and impressive debenham house, a huge mansion with marble mosaic domed ceilings, manicured maze gardens, full of ornate antique furniture, gramophones, telescopes and marble statues, indoor ferns and impressive paintings.. i dodged past the film crew, the assistants and directors and assistants of directors and people i supposed were cast and searched around for kaye, who recruited me through gumtree for the 'film extra' job... kaye, (the 3rd assistant director) was a gorgeous young creature with beautiful long hair, high cheek bones, the funkiest outfit ever and a charming husky voice who made me instantly sick with envy: the coolest job and gorgeous... :o(
later she told me she was studying politics and philosophy at university and couldnt wait to finish this wretched filming so she could go back to uni... i told her i would kill for her job.

all the extras were told to jump straight into their bikinis and head to the lavish indoor pool... i'd brought my favourite victoria's secret bikini, along with matching accessories of course... the other girls were directed into the pool and i was directed on to the floating lilo... a special role because three lines of the script were about me!! ... the main character, a cocky womanizing party-boy crosses the pool to greet a newly arrived friend, spins my lilo around while perving at me, says 'she's hot' to his friend who responds 'i kissed her last week, she's crazy!'.... meanwhile i just lay there floating, sipping a pool-water martini and looking as cool and indifferent as possible.

the scene had to be re-shot about 20 times and each time the guy got a bit more cocky with me, until in one of the final takes he even kissed me on the mouth!!!
he apologised for shocking me afterwards with the excuse that he thought it was 'quite fitting to the scene'... hmmm...

over the delicious cooked lunch i chatted with the other extras and got some contacts... i also decided that somehow, someway, i will find a way into a job like kaye's...

carnevale, cosi and cycle missions..

* on monday jerry and i met my cousin and his girlfriend at the notting hill carneval, a huge carribean street festival which was so packed with people, we could barely move. i loved the extravagant floats in the parade, the feathery sequined costumes, the fact that everybody wore the skimpy gold short shorts, regardless of fat bums, stomach rolls and cellulite, and they shook it anyway! we followed the parade for a couple of hours until the music, horns and whistles got too much and then we headed for the sanctuary of westgate shopping mall... which we didnt know existed and has become our favourite place.

i had my first day of nannying yesterday, with cosi, a gorgeous little 2 year old girl who calls me nanna. the day involved running after her at the playground so she wouldn't get hit by swings, flying foxes, see-saws and other crazy little kids running in all directions, then making sandcastles, collecting leaves, blowing bubbles, drawing pictures and playing tea-parties...

playing kids games made me reminisce about the things i loved doing as a child. dressing up in our massive bags of fancy dress costumes stands out in my memory as number one. apparently i insisted on wearing 'dress-ups' to school nearly every day of my first year at primary school... it was an alternative hippy school in fitzroy so i probably blended in quite well...
hobby number two would be the trampoline. we thought of a thousand different uses for that thing: to climb up on the roof and jump down on (mum and dad had no qualms with that for some reason, even when i was 4 years old!), as a communal bed for sleeping-bag slumber-parties under the stars, to wack a sprinkler under in the summer and jump around on in our bathers, to drape blankets over as an awesome cubby house, as the centre of painful dodge-ball games, the list goes on..
third, i guess would be the bikes and the adventures on them. i still remember all my bikes from the very first one with the basket and the 70's harley handlebars with ribbons dangling off..

jerry and i rode our new grandma bikes around town today, running errands, cutting keys for our new housemates, going to the bank and searching for a pair of military boots that i had my heart set on... having a bike to get around makes everything seem like such a fun mission!

tomorrow i'll be on set all day for 'the lotus eaters' movie. they asked me to bring my most glamourous thing, and a bikini and to arrive at 10.30 am to debenham house. i checked the website and its amazing! i'm so excited!!!