Too often here is where I lick my wounds afterwards, passively-aggressively dissect where things went wrong and allude to events so obscurely I can’t even figure out what I was writing about two years later. So today, let’s do something different. Let’s talk extensively about a snapshot of bliss instead.
Last weekend was my six month Pashiversary with Pashfriend. !!! Six months! I also find it hard to believe that someone put up with me for that long, so I decided, as is my wont, to make a Big Deal about it. We talked and agreed to have our first sleepover, which of course meant that while she’s been to my house pretty much every week for the past six months, I decided to freak out about the state of it and hire a cleaner. I mean yes, I needed a spring clean anyway. And I definitely needed to find my bedroom floor again, which I haven’t seen since umm I first moved in 18 months ago? Turns out it’s still there.
The cats have been stressing out lately and Seb had taken to using the upstairs room as his toilet, which is as awesome as you can imagine, and then Florence peed inside also and there was blood in her pee so I whisked her off immediately to the greatest vets in the world, but all of this added to my stress levels, and cost a fuckton of money (turns out she’s also going to need $600+ worth of dental work. Oh and I’ve received quotes of 1k and 2k for a new sash! window (ECUADOR!!!)) and left me very uninspired to put away clothes. Oh god, so many clothes. Why the fuck do I have so many clothes??? My house is pretty small but the cleaner took seven hours over two days. She cleaned inside my couch. I am suitably impressed and if you want my cleaner’s details I am happy to hook you up.
But of course Thursday night was a panic of leg-shaving, nail painting and just SO MANY NERVES that I took a benzo and then in the morning fell asleep again clutching my phone after my alarm went off and dreamt about running late for an event and being disorganised, so I was late for work and disorganised. I felt jittery during the day but still managed to put out these tweets:
Tonight Pashfriend & I are celebrating our SIX MONTH PASHIVERSARY. And I am very excited. Also prob more nervous than when we first met 1/4
Because now I know just how fucking amazing she is. And how clever and funny and gorgeous. And how she likes me despite all my…quirks 2/4
So every time I get to see her, I get tingles. Because she is fantastic. And I am so lucky to have her in my life. 3/4
Six months ago I could not have imagined this, but it is glorious. Thanks to her lovely husband too. That is all. 4/4
I have nervous feelings about putting words out into the ether about how I am feeling in my head and heart, like if I acknowledge how wonderful things are that Fate will suddenly pay attention and snatch things back from me. but I am working very hard to convince myself that I actually deserve good things, so there you go.
After work found me with a fresh flower from a lovely gift from Demelza in my hair, replesent in my blue velvet dress that I save for going out in because cat hair and too much eyeliner, and I jumped a bus to fancypants Logan Brown, arriving exactly on the dot of 5.45pm as planned. Cocktails were ordered. Hands were held. She’d had a hectic day too and was trembling with nerves. I like this girl quite a lot.
I’d booked over a week in advance but they gave us a table right next to a family by the wait-station, which wasn’t ideal for romance, with waiters hovering all the time. I wondered if their high end agenda would mean they’d hold off on bringing us bread while she unwrapped her present (I love giving presents) but no. We had the bistro menu with matched wines and everything was exquisite.
- Shared Tastes of Logan Brown
- Smoked Warehou Arancini
- Air Dried Beef
- Chickpea Soup & Chorizo
- Warmed Olives & Aegean Garlic
- Spice Braised Lamb Ribs & Brinjal Pickle
- Hoisin Braised Beef Rib, Rare Bavette, Chestnut Steamed Dumpling & Onion Puree
- Steamed Lemon Buttermilk Sponge, Poached Quince & Orange Ice Cream
My beef short rib was eye-rollingly good. I felt like the matched wines at $50 for three glasses wasn’t as good value though, until I located their wine list now and saw that the Schubert Dolce we had with dessert is normally $20 a glass. I’m used to paying $5 for a tasting of it at the Wairarapa Harvest Festival I guess.
I don’t go for formal dining very often because $$$ but I do fucking love it when they bring the wines to the table to pour for you, and when they have your coats waiting when you go to leave. $55 for three courses – though we also ordered brussel sprouts – is pretty decent. And of course because we got there so early, it was around 7.30pm when we’d finished, plenty of time for another drink. We wandered up to Havana, but it was full so we strolled to Hawthorn Lounge instead, relishing our amazing fucking privilege of being able to be two women walking hand in hand down the street, pashing freely whenever we damn well felt like it.
At Hawthorn they remembered us from a week or two before when we’d been in after Singing in the Rain (great staging but cloying fake American accents and the fact that it’s a contemporary production makes the misogyny so much more apparent than the movie) and rustled us up a table out of nowhere. I felt like the queen of Sheba, merrily sipping Prosecco with a beautiful woman at my side. I rule this damn town.
Home is also where I’m a viking, with cats and a heat pump and crystal globes for whisky and ALL six types of the new Whittakers chocolate. We conducted some Serious Science Business for the state of the nation and discovered you can’t actually discern what flavour someone has been eating just by kissing them. I started babbling about interior design and bridesmaid dresses (same colour scheme you see) and just, well everything under the sun, because I could hear myself talking and I just couldn’t stop myself. I took a benzo to steady my nerves but I didn’t have to. Everything was just this bliss: