On Saturday morning, after a bunch of stupid spam texts, and a stupider “don’t spam me!” text that I got before the others, I went flathunting with Anji. We looked at three properties and debated in the Aro Cafe for a while about the merits of the one in Mt Vic vs. the one in Hataitai. The Mount Vic one, while being full of character and featuring a built in liquor cabinet had a tiny skoddy bedroom, while the Hataitai one was HUGE, and so we took that one. Hurray for three bedrooms and a lounge AND a dining room. It will be very good for entertaining in.
Speaking of entertaining, after I spent the rest of the day cooking and cleaning, I went and picked up a vanload of she-males on Marion St, and took them back to my house for a “dinner party”. According to all reports, a good time was had. I didn’t even go psycho! That’s always good. I did try to get everyone to stay with me forever and ever, but I’d forgotten to make that wish with a vengence demon within earshot, so they took off sometime after 1am. I thought five courses (if you include canapes and cheese) would have been enough to render everyone unable to walk. Maybe next time I will have to cut off their legs.
Yesterday Karen and I watched Team America (fuck yeah!) and I ignored all the mess. I can’t de-stretch the dining room table by myself, so why should I clean the bottles and glasses off it? But I do intend to clean up tonight. And write my reviews that I promised to get to the lady by tomorrow. And change my sheets. And all that kind of stuff. Yeah.
Thank god it’s only 20 sleeps or less until I’m on holiday. Of course before then I have to move two households, do a buttload of work and prepare a workplan for the time that I’m off (on leave without pay, I did mention that, right? Bah!). In the meantime, I will continue on my quest to find the perfect Mee Goreng at this end of the city. It’s not at Cintra, although Cintra’s is better (and much much cheaper) than Satay Kampong’s. Istana Malaysia is currently leading the pack, except that it’s not open on Mondays and Tuesdays and they say when I walk in the door “Mee Goreng Chicken, medium hot, no egg”. Knowing how I want my coffee is fine, but knowing how I want my noodles is just embarrassing.