Tuesday, September 16, 2003

I had a lovely weekend, mostly spent cleaning up what I affectionately term the “fucking building site”, to try and make it look more like a home. I am at the point where I don’t believe that this renovation will EVER be finished, and if I manage to walk out of the house in the morning without a smear of plaster dust on my clothes AND to walk down the mud pit driveway without ruining my shoes, then that constitutes the best day I have had for about six months.

So if that wasn’t enough excitement for one weekend, we also managed to wrangle invitations to dinner parties on both Friday and Saturday nights (very handy when you don’t have a kitchen). I have decided that my friends are just a bit too good at the whole dinner thing, they serve up amazing food, on immaculately decorated tables, and don’t have any disasters (unlike moi who once dropped an entire cheesecake on the floor moments before it was to be served). So I have decided that when I finally get my kitchen finished, I am going to have a “disaster” dinner party where nothing works. The soup will be tasteless and cold, the soufflé will flop, the meat will be burnt and I’ll mistake salt for sugar in the dessert. So we will all have to drink a lot instead, everyone will get roaring drunk, play stupid games and then pass out in the lounge room. Sounds like my sort of dinner party, and one that I think I might just be able to pull off.


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