On Friday, my friends and I went out to celebrate Lauren’s birthday. It was raining incessantly, and by the time we got to the restaurant the entire group was soaked and slightly frizzy-haired.
At dinner, we created a game called “Satay Surprise!”, which involved slopping satay sauce onto the unsuspecting victim’s hand, into their mouth or drinking vessel. The real challenge was setting up the surprise. Our friend James was the target 90% of the time, so Sacha or I would try to keep the casual conversation going while Erika held back laughter and prepared to pounce.
“SATAY SURPRISE,” Erika cried, smearing a bit of extra sauce from the roti bread onto James’s forefinger.
Later, we were absurdly entertained by watching Sacha attempt to eat a very large and under-cooked piece of broccoli.
“I don’t know where to stab it with the fork,” Sacha complained. “Start at the stalk,” someone offered. “No, no, eat the leaves first!” With five or six pairs of eyes planted on her, she resorted to gnawing at the vegetable behind a napkin curtain.
My meal came out very late. I think I have a curse when it comes to Thai food – the last time I was at a Thai place the same thing happened. But goodness, is it worth the wait.
The next day, my high school literature class and our fantastic teacher met up to see The Great Gatsby together. We studied the book and a graphic novel adaptation in Year 11 and, I think even before the movie had been confirmed, had made a pact to see it as a group. At dinner, we talked about nerdy things: our teacher’s Star Wars Lego set (“Oh no. It’s mine. My son is not allowed to play with it”), poetry, how university’s going. We saw the movie in 3D (which was great except for the glasses headache) and I really enjoyed it. I wore pearls as an homage to the Gatsby style — but nothing could compare to Daisy Buchanan’s impeccable wardrobe. Anyone know where I can buy Tiffany’s knock-offs?