Narn

Today is exactly one year and one day since I met in person for the first time the love of my life, the wonderful, the beautiful, the incredible, John Safran. The anniversary of good old Australia/invasion/bogan day has justified my spending many hours dreamily contemplating that magical moment.....but that is not all....

It has recently come to my attention that John Safran may (ok, lets be hopeful...DOES) love me too!

Let me explain…

My golden opportunity arose on Australia day last year when Triple J was broadcasting live from some park in Sydney. Elliot and I had dragged ourselves down to the park despite the fact that we had been at Big Day Out the day before and had gotten out of bed at 3pm. So there I was, keeling, devoid of happiness, still slightly drunk, and with make-up smeared down my cheeks (I just hadn’t the energy to rectify this) and I was put on the spot. Did I dare approach He Who I Worship?

I did. Mr Safran was standing on the other side of a fence, which on my side had quite a substantial hedge. This meant that in order to get close enough to him to get his attention and whisper sweet nothings, I had to step into the hedge. Shockingly however, as I stepped into the hedge and was faced with perfection, my nerve failed. I stammered, looked awkward, and all I managed to blurt out was “I’m standing in a hedge”. To which he replied “Yes, yes, you are”. Because he is generosity personified he saved me from myself and made small talk. This was when Elliot arrived to where we were, stepped into the hedge, and declared “I’ve got ice cream”. At that point I had to admit defeat, as I knew that John Safran would always remember us as the weird couple who state the obvious.

And that’s where I thought the story ended. That is what I have been living with - the sorrowful regret that I ruined my one chance at happiness. But no!

Elliot recently informed me that John Safran himself remembers me! Well maybe not exactly, but he mentioned me! Well kind of indirectly....

John Safran apparently was ranting about the unfriendliness of Melbournites in comparison to Sydney-siders. In support of his argument, he mentioned that at last Australia Day’s broadcast he was happy that many people came up and said hello. THAT WAS ME! From that I deduce that John Safran must love me. We are meant to be. It is fate.

So John, my darling, if you are reading this, which I’m sure you are, all it will take is one message and I’m yours forever. Goodnight my love, goodnight.

What is love?..........

Pffft. Who gives a fuck?

What DVD should I watch?

Ahhh.... life is back to normal.

What a… errr..... ummm..... interesting evening I have had.

I am back in the hood at the moment, having moved back into the heart of happening Brisbane from the south side suburbs. That being the case, I was not too surprised, when this afternoon, several loud noises interrupted my internet browsing. Soon after I was re-interrupted by a phone call from a friend who lives near by (apparently with crazy people) asking me if I had heard the gun shots. Being unwilling to be distracted, I told him that yes, I had heard the firecrackers, and hung up. Who has firecrackers? Not anyone in my neighborhood I subsequently discovered.

The night became even more interesting when another friend of mine turned up distressed and wanting a place to stay. As anyone who bothers to read this probably knows, I thrive on company and people to play with, so this was a significant event.  Unfortunately, she could not be coerced into tree-climbing or any other fun things, and merely needed to rant. That was ok. I enjoy a good rant. So I cracked out the Baileys, chocolate and red wine and settled in for a joint ranting session.

Just when our rant was in full swing, there came another knock at the door. It was the friend that had called me earlier. He was also visibly shaken and needed somewhere to stay. Apparently his house had just been raided by police (with guns and all) and this had something to do with the loud noises I had heard earlier, which were in fact gun shots. (Yes, I did feeling pretty freaking bad for hanging-up). There were also other details about dudes with baseball bats and a whole lot of craziness which I will leave out in the interests of not being murdered. This called for more than wine and Baileys, so out came the scotch.

And then the world exploded....

Well no. It didn’t, and alas, this entry cannot be finished with a bigger and better story. That being said though, I doubt I’ll get a more exciting night to write about for a while. 

I started writing this entry a few minutes ago. It was something like “blah blah blah, I’m a fool”.

Let this be a lesson to you all kids, DON’T WRITE BLOGS DRUNK!  Or at least if you do, please have the sense to delete the majority of them before you hit the *publish* button.

DELETE!

Night! x

You know, I was thinking I might,
Write something on this blog here tonight,
But then with dismay,
You all couldn’t say,
That this blog was really that shite.