Despite the fact that I am meant to be saving up for a trip of untold excitement, adventure and cost I have nevertheless spent far too much money this weekend on being the socialite whore that I am.
Friday was a girl at works birthday, which meant a long lunch in a nice little Spanish eatery around St Christopher's Place, and the preference on the menu this week was seafood so lobster, crab and the calamari were the order of the moment.
Following that right after work I met up with a friend of a friend whose birthday it was on Saturday and we were arranging the plans for her big joint birthday bash at the Cella in Chancery Lane, a rather unassuming Asian karaoke place that doubles up as a Latin nightclub after 11pm. More calamari and olives in the new Carluccios this time, as this was where our mutual friend works, and I was shocked that even after a hefty staff discount two glasses of wine and a couple of plates of rather sparse calamari for starters came to over £26 !!!
Then a long train ride to visit some friends over in Herne Bay, who I had not had the opportunity to meet up with in many a week. This time not a birthday, thankfully, and despite more food this time it was of the home cooked cheap and cheerful variety of Pizza and garlic bread with coke. After an earlier double helping of seafood I was none the less glad that the choice of pizzas were pepperoni and four cheeses.
Whilst chatting and catching up we rather lazily sprawled out on their corner lounger and watched Reign of Fire, a fairly recent and worthy attempt at bringing dragons to mainstream audiences and also an older 1969 film called "The Valley or Gwangi" which I bet was where some of the ideas for the Jurassic Park series originated.
Saturday was if anything, even busier as I had to get back to my house in order to change and pick up a blue outfit for the London clubbing for the friend of a friends ( see above ) birthday bash. The only saving grace was that I had pre-booked the Premier Inn hotel as close as possible to the venue a week prior, so after a few hours sleep in the middle of the day I was still able to go out and boogie like a maniac.
However I just didn't seem to get into the spirit of things this time round, and had to cry off early at a disgraceful 12.30pm and head back to my hotel room.
Personally blame the lackluster DJ who seemed to have no idea of what he was doing and didn't even seem to be enjoying it himself, which is a cardinal sin.
If a DJ with experience and prior warning cannot get a group of revellers ( including 3 birthday girls, a dozen stunning beauties in the shortest and pinkest outfits ever conceived , a dozen guys all wanting to get up close and personal to aforementioned beauties and a smattering of Chinese and Korean girls who were hell bent on flinging themselves about like electrified jellyfish with their hair thrashing wildly in all directions) to remain on the dance floor for more than three minutes before wandering off again then he has no place working in a London nightclub, ESPECIALLY not on a bustling Saturday night.
Sunday morning was spend dossing in my hotel watching a french Mohamed Ali impersonator throwing away a lead in the Australian Open tennis final, before a edible but hardly praiseworthy full English breakfast before checking out and returning home on the fast train back to Gillingham.
Now, I am listening to "Bowie - The Singles Collection" and about to embark on a marathon email reply and RTW route version 2.1 research session.
And that isn't even all of it, as later I am due to make an appearance at a birthday party in Chatham where my Danish friend is celebrating her birthday, which might just allow me to return home and be back in my own bed for the first time all weekend just before midnight.
God I love being me at times, and how people can say that they are too busy to do the things that they want when they don't cram in half the things that other people do is beyond.
And how do I find time ... that's easy, and the reason is taken straight from a line from one of my favourite and a highly underrated cult film called "Split Second" ... "Coffee and chocolate ... lots of coffee"
No comments:
Post a Comment