| 2:26p |
Paris Hilton, the Archbishop and the cast from "The O.C." walked into a bar...
I felt a bit like Paris Hilton yesterday. I spent the whole day shopping...on a MONDAY. Yes, shopping whenever you like it is one of the many perks of working for yourself- you can decide to take the day off whenever you want. However, I'm sure that Paris Hilton doesn't decide to go shopping simply to take advantage of the free trains running on the day (commuters are angry- that's all I know). Also, Paris probably has someone to do her Christmas shopping for her. And I'm sure that she doesn't need to get a head start on her Christmas shopping so that she can go down to South Australia for two weeks to teach little kids about the Bible. Of course, I would never want to trade places with Paris Hilton. Shopping all day is kind of stressful and boring. Plus, it'd suck walking up and down King Street in Newtown wearing heels. Pink Converse high-tops are the way to go, baby!
On Saturday night, I had dinner at the Anglican Archbishop's house! It's because he wanted to look over my stamp collection. No, I'm kidding, I would never have a stamp collection. The reason I had dinner at the Archbishop's place was because FEVA (Fellowship for Evangelism in the Visual Arts- my old Christian group from uni) had their end-of-year dinner there. The dinner was held in one of the nice dining rooms on the bottom level. The Archbishop was somewhere else in the house, probably watching the footy, far away from the frivolity. The house is actually owned by the Anglican Diocese and not Pete himself. Anyway, the Pete the Archbishop lives in the eastern suburbs, in this totally gorgeous old sandstone mansion called "Bishopsgate" with nice vines all over it and a lovely garden. Inside, there's oriental rugs, dark wooden furniture, dusky rose coloured walls, paintings of bishops (wow, what a surprise), chandeliers, staircases, grandfather clocks, proper tea sets, and kitchens with chequer-board floors. It's just the sort of place where you find yourself suddenly sitting up very straight and having witty conversations with someone you hope to dance elegantly down the hallways with. Though let's not start rumours here, readers: Carla Gypsygirl couldn't have had her eye on anyone that night, because she was too busy making jokes about how she thought the felafals were chocolate biscuits. I had such a lovely time on Saturday night, seeing all of my FEVA friends. At one point during the night, someone asked me if I knew everyone in the room. After looking around slowly, I discovered with pleasure that I did know everyone. There were about fifty people in the room...fifty people I knew, who I had laughed with and shared secrets with throughout the year. Fifty people I loved. This year has been a little rocky for me, and so I felt so grateful that God has blessed me with such strong and wonderful relationships with so many sparky, arty and sweet people. I came home feeling refreshed, comfortable and happy.
And, just because it's Tuesday, I have to ask this: does anyone else think that "The O.C." is like a pantomime? There's the stock characters: the beautiful damsel in distress (Marissa), the villain trying to figuratively tie her to the railroad tracks (her mum and that freaky Oliver guy), the fool (Seth), the brooding hero (Ryan) and the moral pillar type (Sandy). There's the cheesy music and the cardboard sets. And "The O.C." appeals to almost everyone- even people like me, who usually hate shows about shiny people with nice cars! Most importantly, there's the audience involvement factor. Each Tuesday and Wednesday night, my sister and I yell things like this at the TV: "Noooooooo! Nooooo! Don't do it, Ryan!"; "Oh no! Marissa, he's behind you, he's behind you!" Let's hope there's more train tracks in tonight's episode. |