Par-taying

Clawing back still in progress. This is about Saturday.

I’d originally been pissed off at myself for not snagging us tickets to Maxim Vengerov (kowtow kowtow) performing the Beethoven violin concerto at the Esplanade that night, but in the end when we got asked to three separate parties on the same night, we were glad we weren’t tied down to it. We finally decided we could only make two, and picked the first two we’d been invited to.

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Kelly’s housewarming party came first. We brought a dessert Alec first made for me in London, and which I have subsequently decided is one of my favourite desserts in the world: pears poached in red wine, cinnamon and other stuff, topped with mint-infused mascarpone cheese. Bloody tedious to make, and it looks a bit vile while you’re eating it because the cheese mixes with the wine, but it’s my idea of dessert heaven and I’m not even a dessert person.

I had a great time, but was probably not at my socializing best because I kept getting distracted by the classic music videos among Patrick’s DVD collection. I’m incapable of watching Coldcut’s Timber and making conversation at the same time, unless the conversation is about the utter genius of the video. I probably managed some half-witted remarks during Amon Tobin’s Verbal, but I don’t actually remember what I said or who I was talking to.

I also vaguely remember demanding, in my usual overemphatic tone, that Patrick play the above two videos once I realized he had them. This is of course the best possible way to interact with someone you have only just met. Sigh. I’d like to blame the beer but I don’t think I’d had much at that point.

Anyway, thanks for having us, Kelly and Patrick, and happy housewarming. I eagerly await my next invitation. :)

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Sue’s birthday was at China Jump, which is…really not our kind of place…but it was still nice to see Sue so happy.

Our night there started off badly, but we fortified ourselves with more beer, and danced to Naughty Girl. I also danced to the few aggressive hip-hop tracks they played, until they realized that hardly anyone else wanted to dance to that, and changed back to cheese.

And then we spotted the empty pool table. I’m sure there have been better feelings in my life than making the winning shot in a pool game by perching tipsily in a flimsy tube dress with my left bum cheek on the side of the table and my right arm twisted around my back in order to get a shot at the black, AND THEN POTTING THE FUCKING BLACK THEREBY ROUNDLY KICKING ALEC’S ASS, but this one will do for now.