Originally uploaded by Carrie Taylor.
With the Australia Day Ball less than two weeks away, the bets are on at work about whether I will smooch someone at the big event. Mero thinks no, but Biggsy reckons yes.
I don't know why we're betting on this, but I guess it goes to show that Aussies really will bet on anything.
But hey, who are we fooling? We all know that in the case of my permanent pucker, things could go either way. What can I say? I am the Kissing Bandit.
Mikey loves to tell people that I'm like one of those limpits, forever suctioned to the bottom of a shark. Such is the way I will moonlight around a venue, attached to some hapless male with no idea what he's gotten himself into. Harsh but fair, I suppose.
And equally I wonder what better way to find my prince than to kiss a lot of frogs, right? Dedicated research and a commitment to the task are the only ways forward, as I have always (ie never) said.
And with Biggsy and Mero being ever-watchful for my smoochy indiscretions, perhaps only time will tell whether the Handsome Prince will be found on the Hotel dancefloor.
Between you and me, the Aussie party at the Cubby Bear this coming weekend is the more likely location for a smooch, if last year's shenanigans were anything to go by. I seem to recall a young man suggesting he was VERY into me, only to realise that he had been making all the same moves on the female bartender. I had to give the guy props - he was working his magic on two sides of the dancefloor; he must have been exhausted. When she approached us and threw his coat at him, to storm off in an Oscar-worthy huff, all I could do was laugh and encourage him to chase after her. I'd suggest that I was being noble in defeat but then again, he was the one who lost out in the long run - right?
So there we have it, folks. The bets rage about whether or not thsi blogging heroine will find her prince at the Ball and then fix him with a giant smooch. It worked in stories, now stay tuned for the real-life version.