In which I force social graces upon you

Okay, so it’ll be eight people for dinner tomorrow night (and I hope that you, Mr Noizy, will be losing sleep over your lack of RSVP! I know you’ve been reading, I know you’re not in New York.). Now I’m sure that you’re already bringing wine, because you’re polite young people, but Jessie said that my last post on the subject was a little confusing, so let me spell it out – in addition to the wine which I have no doubt that you are bringing, it would be great if you could bring a piece of cheese. I think Jessie mentioned that she likes blue cheese, (unless she was trying to wind me up), so perhaps a brie and a something else could be dividied up between the two remaining of you? Tonight there will be much cleaning and cooking and planning of social introductions. As I just said in an email, sometimes I think I am a Stepford Wife.

In other things that aren’t my dinner party, on Wednesday I went to see In Good Company and consequently I am in love with Topher Grace all over again like the second season of that show. It was a really funny really nice movie, although Scarlett Johansson didn’t wear enough low cut tops. Um, not that I’m shallow or anything. But you should check it out.

Last night Anji and I went to look at a flat in Mt Vic. It was art deco with wooden floors. Luckily the landlady had a phobia of cats, because it was $375. In half an hour I’m going to go and look at a workman’s cottage in Mt Cook. It is sunny today so I can assess how damp and dark it will be.

The cats are stressing me out with their differing needs. I have finished reading Feel although I never wanted it to end. I must make a dinner party playlist of music. Today’s big drama at work was all about the total lack of toilet paper in our building and how it took the other building two hours to get us some. Shocking. There’s toilet paper now, however, so I might end this here.

Oh actually, just before I go – Karen and I had dinner at Coco last night, and when I ordered a glass of shiraz THE GIRL ASKED ME FOR I.D. Oh my fucking god. I will accept that in supermarkets and liquor stores, but in a cafe????

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