Originally uploaded by konaboy.
Well ladies and gents, last night was an absolute cracker at The Cult for the Young Members Winter Ball 2007. I had bought a new red, satin dress and paired it with the red heels I wore to the Australia Day Ball back in January. I felt comfortable and ready to party.
My dates for the evening were Biggsy & D, and my two newest Aussie friends B&S. We all looked great and amongst the sea of tuxedos (march of the penguins) and glamour gowns, we held our own beautifully. Jenn wore a stunning champagne-coloured strapless dress and B took a wonderful photo of the two of us that I can't wait to get hold of.
But of course we all know that I can't attend an event these days without making a git of myself at some point. And last night was no exception! I made short work of some eventually toxic bright blue cocktails early in the evening, and operating on the "if it ain't broke, don't fix it" principle, I stuck with them all night. On one of my many trips to the bar, I met a guy named Paul who was dapper and suave and fun to chat to while the line moved. So I casually mentioned that I hadn't seen him around The Cult before and I inquired how long he'd been a member.
"Oh no," he replied, "I'm the lead singer in the band."
And before you ask, I certainly HAD been dancing to his tuneful tones all evening. And yes, I did feel like the biggest tool ever. But he was great about it and as I shuffled away, I muttered something about not doing much dancing up the front of the dancefloor, and concentrating too much on not sliding on the parquetry flooring. He might have bought it, but maybe not...
So the night rolled on, and I stuffed myself with the most creative dessert buffet I've ever seen - complete with Haagen-Daaz icecreams on a stick AND the fattest strawberries dipped in dark chocolate. (Insert Homer Simpson-style drooling here). So when the night ended, me and Jenn went back to our respective rooms to get changed, leaving some hardcore party girls twirling in the middle of the dancefloor while their dates held the coats, rolled their eyes, and checked their watches.
And I joined Jenn in her room for a 3am cheese pizza and light beers while we commentated Court TV and infomercials. After that 'midnight' feast, I wandered back to my room - barefoot and in pyjamas - begging to sleep like the dead. And I have awoken today looking like the swamp monster, and feeling worse. But all this self-inflicted misery cannot dampen my enthusiasm for last night's great party. Bring on the next black tie event - I love 'em. I just have to pay more attention to the band next time!