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Monthly Archives: August 2012

I had a moment of clarity this weekend; as I heard the words, “Excuse me, do you have a condom?” come out of Lara Fuller’s mouth on Saturday, I knew my life was significantly closer to fulfillment.

You see, this Saturday was Lara Fuller’s Hens’ celebration in Sydney… Or as my sister and I were referring to it (because of Lara’s characteristically demure/tasteful behaviour), “The Lara Fuller Cotillion.”

Oh, how five consecutive shots of tequila enhance one’s wild side. In 7 or so years of knowing Lara Fuller, I can probably count the number of inappropriate things she’s said on one hand. She is averaging less than ONE OFF COLOUR COMMENT PER YEAR, people. She doesn’t even wear inappropriately cut clothing – not even loud colours!  So you SEE what we are dealing with here, and can thus understand how thrilling it is to get her totally drunk and force her to do embarrassing things.

Fuller & I on our way to the party – please note the sweater that was her outfit choice for her bachelorette party

We had lunch at 4Fourteen in Surry Hills which was is a beautiful space, and the food is also very good. From there, we laid out a trail of tabasco laced tequila shots to lure Fuller through Surry Hills on a pub crawl, and she happily complied.

Lara held up admirably well, everyone seemed to have a ball and we finished up the night dancing – I’d say it was a success… Now onto Part II: Boston.



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…makes you boring.

Or at least, it makes me boring. Nick and I are like two elderly citizens, eating casseroles and watching CSI, trying to save our dollars in the name of a big ass party. It’s quite hard to find awesome things to share when the most exciting part of my week was when I stayed up late Tuesday night and painted my toenails whilst talking shit with my best friend in NY. I mean, it was for sure fun for ME, I had an absolute ball. I just don’t know if YOU care about that. Karen’s in Spain living the gee dee life by the swimming pool, while I am here dying of loneliness and coldness and THIRST.

But, you know what? It’s all good, because I am going home in precisely 9 days. I can endure nine days of anything if it holds the promise of free pour cocktails and disgustingly hot weather at the end of it. Not lying, the hotter and grossly humid the better, I love that shit. Bring it on. I bought 7 new bikinis and I will be posted up on my parents’ porch drinking whiskey spiked ice tea and staring at trees and squirrels until I pass out doze off and then I’ll wake up and do it again. For THREE WEEKS.

Lara and Andy’s wedding is in there too – so that means nap-drinks in an alternate beach side location, which is also excellent.

I love Martha’s Vineyard. I love the very slow pace of it. I love the little grey houses. I love how they don’t use seatbelts. Lara’s family’s place especially – it’s all sand roads, no shoes, canned beer, bring a book to the beach, swim, take a walk, afternoon nap, burgers on the grill, cards, bit of banter. I honestly just asked myself what could be better, and I seriously can’t answer it. I cannot say that I have experienced anything better than that. Nope, stumped. Yeah, so, wish you could be there, etc.

I was nervous about being Lara and Andy’s celebrant, so I got some Valium.

And now I’m nervous about Valium + alcohol + dance floor. You know?

No seriously, I’m taking my celebrant duties very seriously. I’m dogsitting, so I practice on Jiggs. I get WAY into it, make myself cry and Jiggs is just chilling, lookin at me like this. Which I take to mean that I am engaging, yet authoritative.

See? This is why the engaged me doesn’t post. It’s just devolved into my daydreams and ramblings now really, hasn’t it? Soz (NOT soz).


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