photo saturday: beach boxes and grey shores

candy coloured boxesswan sea

grey horizonlining the shore
I'm a little fluffy today... even now... mostly due to consuming a beer, two apple ciders, a cherry ciders, about three rum and drys, a Harry Potter inspired cocktail, an Amaretto sour and a daiquiri last night.

Yeah, it was a bit of a night... but we'll get to that.

Just as a quick sidebar before we begin. The basic tenant of customer service, as far as I believe, is that if a request has been put to you, then you do your best to fulfil that request, or you communicate with the client. As someone who does some version of that on a daily basis, it's not that fucking hard. However it's also my number one bugbear about the world... is that people are just fucking lazy when it comes to that.

I raised two issues with my landlord when I had my inspection. They sent out the (useless) handyman. He certainly came, he certainly looked at both of the problems. He didn't fix either of them, and I haven't heard anything from either him or the landlord since.

My final tattoo session was cancelled because my artist was sick. The receptionist said that she'd contact me with a new time. I haven't heard anything from them.

If you say to me that I have to contact you again, that's fine... but if the request is last in your hands and you haven't given me any additional information or have said that you'll contact me, then you need to contact me. I don't have the time or the inclination to chase you to make you do your job. I have enough shit of my own to do.

Anyway, sidebar over.

Last Sunday morning I had a powercut. I lazed around in bed for a while, and a little after about 9 or so, the power cut out. Just about the time I was going to get up, put on the TV, fill the sink with hot water and make some breakfast before watching videos on YouTube.

No power meant no TV, no hot water and no internet.

Fortunately I could still light the stove using a match, so I managed breakfast. And I boiled some water on the stove so that I could do the washing up. Fortunately even though I got an SMS saying that the power would be down until 1pm, it was back up within about an hour and a half.

As soon as it came back on I literally dove for the shower and then refilled the sink with hot water to wash my breakfast pots. You know, just in case. But it didn't go off again, so it was fine. I swear though, I hadn't had so many power cuts or power hiccups in all the time I was in North Adelaide than I think I've had since I moved here.

Sunday's soup was pretty good. The pea soup recipe is fairly easy and was pretty tasty.

This week at work wasn't too bad. The lull from the last couple of weeks is officially over, but we're handling it all pretty well so far, which is good.

I feel like there might have been some other random tale to tell from the week... but if there was I'm really not remembering it right now.

Thursday was Haircut Night... so I headed off to Tink's to get my hair did. And we did the usual... short cut, slightly blonde. And talked a lot of random crap.

Given how much grey is currently showing up in the sides of my hair, I'm tempted to try and experiment next time where we try and go for a more ashy/silver/grey colour for my hair generally. You know, just as an experiment.

Friday we organised to have drinks with some of the former members of The Nuthouse... well, actually they organised the drinks. I did have my chiro appointment to go to first though. My normal chiro is on holiday, so I saw the other woman, and that's always a much more invigorating adjustment (which is basically code for her being much more forceful).

Then I made my monthly scheduled visit to the comic book store.

The one "downside" to finding a comic book store where I feel incredibly comfortable ( is that I spend a lot of money. Especially since I've started at least three new graphic novel series and found some interesting looking queer indie comic series.

I rolled up to the second choice pub, since our first choice was holding a wine tasting, and, yeah, I hope we don't end up going there again, it's way too snooty for our crew. We're really not a "bros and straight white girls" bar kind of crew.

I'd only intended to have a couple of drinks and then take myself home... yeah, that didn't fucking happen.

But that's also what happens when people start buying me drinks. If I'm buying my own, the "yeah enough now" is effective, otherwise it's too easy just to go "yeah alright".

Which is why I started drinking rum and dry...

Also, Owlgirl was there, and Hershel was there... and I'm not going to lie, I miss both of them quite a bit. Pixie wasn't there though, which would have been nice.

So I spent quite a bit of time with OG and quite a bit with Hersh, which was nice.

And OG got to clear some air, which she couldn't until she'd had some space and time and distance from the group and the job. It was much needed and I'm glad she got that opportunity.

At a certain point (when most of everyone else has already dropped off and gone home or on to other activities) the staff told us (and by the way, while it was far too snooty, the bar staff, superior eye candy for the most part) they needed to remove our table (yep, just ours) to make a dance floor space... so OG, Hersh, Sprocket and Plaid all decided it was time to move elsewhere.

Well, Hersh, Sprocket and Plaid had a plan, and I had only been catching about half of what everyone said all night because bars will insist on playing fucking music at full fucking volume on a Friday night when people are there to talk not to have to scream over the top of some tosser manhandling an acoustic guitar... sorry, where was I. Oh yeah, plan... they had one, and I heard a sentence that was essentially "susurrus susurrus susurrus susurrus susurrus cocktails"... and that was fine by me.

So we headed off, and where we ended up was The Bibliotheca Bar And Book Exchange. Now I'm not really a bar person, and I'm definitely not a cool, hip bar person... but Bibliotheca is my kind of bar. In large part because books. However when I walked in and saw a giant mural on the wall by my buddy Josh Smith, former owner of Espionage Gallery and now maker of amazing miniatures, well, that was clearly a clue.

And then one of the bartenders brought us the cocktail menus and said to me "you don't recognise me do you?"... and for a second I really didn't... and then his voice registered. It was Charlie, who was the guy who helped Josh out at a number of the Espionage shows towards the end.

bibliotheca on fire
That was the point in the evening when I switched from normal drinks to fancy drinks...

And also the point where they set our drinks on fire. Yep, OG and I decided (well, there wasn't really ever any doubt) to get the Harry Potter inspired "Drink Who Shall Not Be Named"... and then sat at the bar while our lovely bartender poured flaming alcohol between two Turkish coffee jugs.

It was really fucking impressive. And the drink, while not my favourite thing I drank all night, and maybe a little stronger tasting than I usually like, was amazing, since it ended up warm and when you sipped it the vapour went up the back of your throat so you were tasting it and smelling it at the same time. It was a hell of a thing.

I did really like the follow up drink though, the Amaretto sour... which was all sweet and fluffy and didn't even taste of booze... and then the daiquiri was a nice clean finish.

OG left first as the BF was picking her up, then Hersh, til it was just Sprocket, Plaid and me... and then we realised it was basically past 11:30 and we all really should be getting our drunk asses home. So we left Plaid to walk one way and Sprocket and I walked back to his bike and then he went one way and I went the other and I, yet again, walked my very drunk ass home.

And stopped at the petrol station to buy a pie because even though I'd stopped off between the comic book shop and the first bar to grab something to eat so I wasn't totally drinking on an empty stomach, I hadn't really had what you could call a proper meal. So petrol station chicken pie... which was actually pretty good.

I got home at 1am, and after some random Snapchatting with Sprocket to ensure he got home okay, I crashed out about half an hour later.

Waking up this morning wasn't the most hung over I've ever been... partly because I had drunk water during the night... but I hadn't had any when I got home... and I was just feeling a little sheedy... somewhere between shady and seedy.

A shower helped, although there wasn't anything helping the fact that I'd spent the evening screaming over the music and I had my "radio announcer" voice happening.

When Ma came down we headed off to do the shopping... I'd decided to make Mulligatawny soup, which at the end of the day is predominantly lentils and spices. After we were done shopping and had come back and unpacked, I discovered that my downstairs neighbours are moving out. I discovered this when they parked a moving van in the driveway. But this was after I'd already put my car away, so it was fine.

Again, we didn't really have a plan... there were movies we COULD have gone to see, but I really wasn't in the mood (and I think I might have fallen asleep to be honest)... so we just headed down to Marion for a general wander.

*cue general wander around Westfield Marion montage*

We poked around all the shops, both bought stuff we really didn't need, got some pies from the bakery for lunch and then headed back here.

And that was about it really. I wouldn't say that I was specifically hung over... but I was definitely fluffy for the whole day.

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