The (second) most anticipated wedding of the year...

...the first, of course, being...my own. Which was equally fabulous. But enough about me. Unless you've been living under a rock the last couple of weeks you'd know that Prince William, the most eligible Prince of recent times, married a commoner on Friday. What? No! I meant Kate Middleton. Slip of the tongue. Anyway, no doubt Grandma is very proud.






Being the Royal enthusiasts that we are, Maria and I decided we simply had to host a party in honour of the happy couple. Lucky for us Aussies, the wedding was streamed live from London, beginning 8pm Oz-time - a very respectable hour indeed. Perfect for popping the champagne and getting our drinking game on. But more on that later.







As i said, Maria and I love all things royal, especially royal weddings. We watched the wedding of Princess Mary to Prince Frederick of Denmark live all those years ago. (Another nobody who bagged herself a Prince! What the!? Am i hanging out at the wrong bars?!)




(What's that? Jo? Jo who?)




Now i know there are many Australians out there who believe we should become a republic, and I'm going to be controversial here and say that i really don't care either way. I don't think our daily lives will be particularly affected, no matter what happens, so a part of me thinks if it ain't broke, don't fix it. Really, i just find the history, the pomp, the tradition, (the scandal), all very fascinating. As for the rest, I'm neither here nor there.





But back to our favourite couple, Wills and Kate. Ah, what a love story. He in all his Princely glory and she in all her nothingness - but what stylish nothingness! A word on this - I've heard a lot of people say she doesn't take enough risks in fashion, but I say she's all class. I've never seen her wear something she looks bad in, and people - sometimes less is more. It works. I'm glad she's not too eccentric in the way she dresses. She's just normal. And i especially love that she shops in high street stores like all the other plebs. Hopefully she doesn't forget her roots. (I know. Doubt it.)




Here they are, looking radiant, despite William's obviously deteriorating hair follicles. Another controversial observation from me - Wills was in his prime maybe 5 years ago. But those days are over. The truth of the matter is, that hair ain't never growing back. We hoped he'd be Diana incarnate, but alas, Charles' genes have dominated. And won. I'd take Harry any day of the week. I know, he looked very handsome in the whole red suit get-up, but the fact remains - he looked better with the hat on. That is, when you couldn't really see his face. ANYWAY, i digress again! The happy couple:











Wait, one more point on Wills - he has decided he is above wearing a wedding ring. FYI Will, the entire world knows your married now, so who ya trying to fool huh? I read its because he doesn't like jewelery, and i suppose being a Prince he can do whatever he wants, but still. He could have given it a go at least.






And here are your hosts for the evening! Meanwhile, check out those blinds in the background. See those little pieces of paper pegged on there? Oh yeah. Kate and Wills pics. Courtesy of me, and the colour printer at work. (A flourishing career in party planning awaits. Am i right?)

And here's a sample of what we served. Homemade tea cake (Maria's baby, not mine), and scones presided over by HRH herself.

But don't let the scones deceive you into thinking this was a posh affair. It started off OK - people milling about being polite and so on...

...but then we passed around the rules to our Royal Wedding Drinking Game, and. Well. You can only guess how things went. The rules included, but were certainly not limited to, the following:

• Take a drink if the Queen is on screen




• If the commentator mentions Diana, take three drinks




• Any time parallels are drawn to the Diana/Charles wedding, take three drinks




• Last person to shout 'Candle in the Wind' if Elton John is on screen must take 5 drinks

Etc etc. Needless to say, we all became highly opinionated on the proceedings, but there was one thing we all agreed on - those reindeer antlers worn by Beatrice were completely and utterly hideous. WHAT, I ask you, was she THINKING?? The rest of the outfit was...OK. I mean it wasn't great, mind you. But those antlers. Honestly. And her sister Eugenie - can i ask who allowed her to leave the house in that horrible blue thing? The two sisters took out worst-dressed for me. Google their outfits. You'll see what i mean.





Also, I'm not sure if this is the fashion in the UK, but it seemed a lot of ladies worse their fascinaters right on their foreheads. Which is just weird. Posh Spice, for example - yes, she'll always be Posh Spice to me - wore some sort of mini-bowler-hat creation, and it sat practically between her eyeballs. I know she's pregnant with her gazillianth child, but that's no excuse.

So the champagne flowed, and we cooed over Wills and Kate and their little whispers and smiles and general air of happiness, and how pretty London looked all dressed up with the flags and the bunting, and how she said "Oh wow" when she first walked out on the balcony, and how they kissed twice, and how the Queen wasted no time in ushering everyone back inside after two seconds because she's a cranky old nanna...I mean see? See how happy everyone looks? (Except Turnsie, who never looks happy.) (This is his "Lord of the Manor" face by the way.) (???)

To really get the party going, we took photos of Turnsies ears. Here's one of them, in case you felt like checking out something really disgusting today.

What i'm trying to say is, the party was a hit (no surprises there because we're the hostesses with the mostesses. By that, i mean we keep champagne popped and flowing at all times.) I wish i could have been in London for the occasion, but alas, it wasn't to be. Hopefully Harry will come through for me in the next few years (little ginger scoundral that he is.)

All thats left to say is...God Bless America!

I mean.

God Bless the Queen! Yeah. That's the right one...

Cluck cluck

I'm referring, of course, to my hens night - 10 hours of madness and mayhem that proved something very important: getting older does not mean you lose the ability to dance all night long.




Hell. No.




But let's start at the very beginning (a very good place to start). I'm not one for blinking "Bride to Be" sashes or gaudy tiara's or penis straws - I'm a classy gal after all. So my evening was supposed to be a pleasant, sophisticated affair.




And i mean. It TOTALLY started out like that. My Hen Entourage and I met at my most favourite bar in Sydney, The Victoria Room, where I've been sipping delicious cocktails for many years. We had our own private (air conditioned, thank God) sitting room, where we drank champagne and indulged in a huge dinner, and chatted and laughed and lived, and all was right with the world. My mother was on fire - it's was an exciting night for her, being out and about in the CITY no less, in a trendy bar, drinking expensive champagne, catching a cab home....sheesh. Kid in a candy store stuff. But hey - you were NOT drunk, right Ma? *wink wink. nudge nudge* Anywho, the thing to remember is that she had a marvellous time, as did we all.




And then, the clock struck 11. Which is not an ominous number by any means. I mean its not midnight or anything. But by the time 11 rolls around, you can pretty much separate the stayers and the goers. You know who's gonna stick with you till the end, and who's gonna have to head off (bye Mum.). My core groupies and I, knew there was only one place that could satisfy a dance fever.





And that was the Retro.





Sure it's a dive, but OH the nights we've had there. It was fitting to go back for one last hurrah. (Last hurrah? Who am i kidding. Retro is for life, dude.) There's really a lot to love. For one, cheap drinks. Then, the music - 70s and 80s all night long upstairs, and awesome 90s and top 40 downstairs. Really, the choice is endless. Thirdly, what's not to like about disco balls, fluorescent lights and podiums?




So we get there, and of course its straight upstairs for some 80s magic. It was probably about midnight when we arrived, when the dancing fervor began. This fervor, my friends, did not end until 5 hours later when, weary and exhausted, we looked around and realised there was actually no one left except us. I'm pretty sure the DJ wasn't happy about it. ("I could be packing up to go home right now, but instead I'm here spinning tunes for a bunch of ungrateful GIRLS??? WHAT THE???")




Maybe it was the weather. It was the hottest night recorded in Sydney in i don't know how many years. I'm talking really steamy. The humidity was fierce. People go loopy in that kind of heat. We walked out of there at 5am and it was still 35 degrees. Or maybe it was the music. Tina Turner's Simply the Best sent my friend Lauren into spasms of joy - the girl was singing into a pretend microphone for godsake. And then of course, Thriller and Billie Jean. Dancing Queen. Run to Paradise. Summer of '69. I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles). Summer Rain. That was just in the first hour people! There's just something about singing at the top of your lungs with a bunch of friends on a podium that grabs a hold of you and doesn't let you go all night, you know? Can we really be blamed? Or maybe it was just the company. My friends are awesome, as are my cousins, and frankly, that's what's gonna make your night great. We were all just having a good time together - who wants to leave that?




Whatever it was, i can safely say I had an absolute blast. I can also safely say that Tina Turner will forever remind me of that night. Kama, Lauren and I (GENUINELY the last men standing), came back to my place afterwards in a state of near-collapse, desperate for eggs (which i did make, by the way, at 5.30 in the morning, in a vodka-induced stupor. What can I say, turning the stove on seemed like an awesome idea at the time.) And those eggs were the best I've ever tasted, let me tell you. Alas, this was closely followed by one of the WORST nights sleep I've ever had. (Not your fault, Kama, even though we shared the bed. You aren't to blame. Smirnoff ice double blacks, on the other hand, certainly played a part.)





Unfortunately, i had Jo's big camera that night (which i admit, i don't know how to use properly), so i didn't get the best pictures....but here's a teeny tiny selection. I know i haven't blogged regularly in ages, I've been super duper busy - the wedding is two weeks away now, so all down to the nitty gritty details. My best friend and maid of honour Leah arrived back in the country on Thursday night (she's been living in the UK the last 12 months, but flew in especially for the wedding), so now it really feels exciting! This weekend was spent in the Hunter Valley, for Part Two of my Hens celebrations - all organised by Leah - more fun, more madness, and i promise a blog to follow on that soon...hopefully...

Maria, Lauren, Kama and the other Maria.

Romina and I (and Bean the Second, techinically.)

Me and Vicks

Sylvana, Susie, Mel and Adriana

Maria, AKA 'The Instigator", and I

My mother. What can i say, we come from the same mould.

End of January?? What??

How is that possible? Too busy, that's the bloody problem, and this week was no exception. It was Jack's birthday on Wednesday, so we went over for dinner and cake and all that. His real birthday party isn't until this weekend, and it's featuring a special surprise from me and Maria. More on that next week! As for Wednesday, for an impromptu party there sure were plenty of kids in attendance. Christ. Girls, boys, babies - every age bracket was accounted for. There really was nowhere to hide. So i made the best of it and stuck with the ones i knew and loved.

Christian, Raffael and me

In fact, it wasn't just Jack's birthday - it was his cousin William's too. Which is why there were about a billion kids - double the festivities. William was turning two, so still slightly overwhelmed by it all. But turning three, Jack had a better idea of what birthdays are all about - presents. And lets be honest - the kid threw aside anything that wasn't a toy or DVD. Little shit.

Birthday cakes!

Happy birthday to me!

William cuts the cake with his mama

Kid heaven

By the time Friday rolled around, i was ready for a drink. Alas for me and everyone around me, because drink i did. A good friend from work was leaving (she's travelling the world for 6 months, lucky bugger), so we decided heading to the pub early was in order. First bottle of wine was consumed by 4.30 in the afternoon, and Lord knows that happened after that. I know i got home past midnight - which means we basically drank for a full working day. Which is a phenomenal effort, and i applaud it, and i was punished for it on Saturday BELIEVE ME. My body can no longer cope with all-night benders. Am i getting old??? How did i manage that sort of drinking TWICE every weekend a mere few years ago?? Vague snippets of the night are coming back to me as the days pass (like demanding someone go and get me a burger - and actually, i think someone did), which is always funny. Its like you're in a half-dream - did that really happen, or am i imagining it? Good times.

Me and Wing-Sze, world traveller extraordinaire, who i will MISS!!

George, me and WS - i can't believe our trio has been so rudely split. Bah. Bah!

On the other hand, waking up early the next day to meet Maria in Newtown and look for wedding favours was NOT a happy moment. Really. Was. Not.

I was parched, for starters, and no amount of water would quench my thirst. Second, it was like a hundred degrees outside, so all i did for three hours was sweat out everything I'd consumed the night before. Thirdly, we were supposed to meet for breakfast, but Maria was late, so i had to eat alone like a loser, AND, i really wanted greasy bacon and eggs for breakfast, but I've vowed off eating pork, so i had to have mushrooms instead. Not the fat factor i was after. And it was one of those situations where I'd asked for two menus because i thought there would be two of us. So the waiter brings two menus and two water glasses and two sets of cutlery. And then Maria doesn't show, which is OK, but to the waiter, it looked like I'd been totally ditched, probably by a guy. "My cousin's running really late..." i told him feebly when i went to pay. And he gives me this sympathetic look like "Yeah, sure. See it all the time. But OK, you're cousin's late, whatevs..."

To top it off, we ended up sitting for what felt like an eternity with this lady talking about wedding favours when all i wanted to do was go to the toilet. When i finally couldn't hold it any more, i asked whether there was one available even though i could see there wasn't. She said she had one out the back, but that it was a bit "rustic". HA! Rustic?? Rustic means CHARMING, lady! Not pitch-black, spider-infested, outback dunny with mouldy toilet paper and a yellow-stained floor. But i was busting so i had to go, i had to. And really, after that, all i wanted to do was go back home and go to bed. Thank goodness I actually found some favours i liked after all that, so it was kind of worth it, just.

By Sunday i was buggered, but it was a beautiful day and we were heading off for a BBQ with my cousins. They have three little kids who are a hoot, and we love seeing them, so it was a nice afternoon.

Raffael and Christian with their vegetable garden

Fish on the barbie for lunch, DELICIOUS.

Jo, Raffy and Christian reading books

Later that afternoon, Jo and my Dad were headed off to the cricket, so Mum and I decided to go to the movies to see Black Swan. Obviously it's been getting a lot of buzz, so we were interested to see whether it would live up to the hype.

Which it kind of did. I'm not sure what i expected from it in hindsight actually. It's hard to put it in a genre category, but i guess you could call it part thriller, part horror. Natalie Portman plays Nina, a ballerina who's waiting for her big moment - and it comes when she wins the lead in Swan Lake. Her nervous and unsure personality is evident from the start, but once the pressure of the role sets in, and we learn more about her home life, the cracks in her mental state begin to show. From there, the audience is left to guess what's real and what isn't. We see it all through Nina's eyes, and that's what i liked best about the movie - i felt like i understood her paranoia and delusions because i was seeing them for myself, i thought they were real too. When it turned out they weren't, i felt her confusion because it was also my own. I was definitely on the edge of my seat for the whole movie. On the other hand. It was so intense and confronting in its realism that I was almost uncomfortable watching it. And i am no prude by any means, but there were some scenes where i was like "Geez. That's...weird..." So I'm not sure its for everyone. From an artistic perspective, it's beautifully staged and shot. But it's very dark, and its MA rating is appropriate. I'm still feeling a little unnerved and disturbed by it, even a couple of days later.

Public holiday tomorrow, so no work for me! I'll keep you posted on how my Australia Day turns out - most likely i will sleep, eat, watch trash TV with the aircon on high, sleep, attend a BBQ, then sleep. Not too shabby if you ask me.

2011 - what will you bring?

Ohhhh new years. That night of nights, huh? Or not. I personally am never one for a big new years. Going into the city to watch the fireworks, making a big deal of it all...it's a pain. There's so much pressure to make the night amazing that it inevitably often isn't. No, my best new years are the ones we've kept low-key, with family or friends, at home or at someone else's home - fuss free, relaxed, no pressure.




So i was very pleased indeed when our friend Annie invited us to spend new years with her at her mother's penthouse apartment this year. Good friends? Tick. Views of the city? Tick. Plenty of champers? Tick tick tick. Awesome music? Tick. Can't ask for more on new years, riiiiiiight?!





But the day started well before that. As per tradition, we headed over to our friend Lewis's house that afternoon for the annual new years back-alley cricket game. And let me tell you, it was hot that day. Real. Hot. The kind of hot where the ice does nothing for your beers and the shade does nothing for your heat rash. Know what i mean?




My batting was superb as always (rules state that girls can use a real cricket bat, but lads have to use a hockey stick. Suckers.), but my fielding, admittedly, could use some work. Running away from the ball when it comes flying in your direction is apparently not acceptable. Backyard cricket or not. I say, my face comes first.









Lewis had the heat covered though, with that traditional Aussie summer staple - the plastic paddle pool. Which i refused to enter. No siree bob. 4 sweaty male bodies in that tiny thing? One word sums it up, and that word is Ew.

Back to our place for some pre-champagne champagne, and before i knew it we were at Annie's, where the good times rolled on till midnight. It wouldn't be new years without our good friend Turnsie and as usual, he was plastered before the 9 o'clock fireworks. He will of course try to tell you this is a lie, but don't believe him. His drunken dance moves, smugly recorded by Jo, prove otherwise. Oh yeah. He was hustling to Beyonce's Diva like a groupie on steroids.

Turns and I proudly display our bounty.




Why yes! That IS me pouring a packet of Smarties into Turnsie's champagne.

Obviously everyone was feeling the love by the time the midnight fireworks hit. Everyone except Jo, who in fact suffered SEVERE food poisoning over the entire new years holiday period, poor bloke. He was in agony - in fact he didn't drink a single drop of alcohol the whole night. Which not only sucks, but also proves that he really was sick. Cause that just doesn't ever happen. On the plus side, since he wasn't off his face like the rest of us, he managed to get some pretty good shots of the fireworks. (And we had a designated driver.)

Annie, me, Turns and Lauren

The evening was topped off by a visit from the crazy, middle-aged Eastern European neighbour (otherwise known as 'Russian Mafia Dude'), whose disturbingly open sexual prowess was just a little too free and easy for me. Yeah. I didn't bother to hide my sniggers.

The rest of our holidays was spent on my parents couch. Jo needed a few days of recovery time, so we parked ourselves at the parentals and spent 3 days watching movies and playing with the dogs. It was kinda nice to do absolutely nothing actually. And i forgot how great Inglorious Bastards was.

In other news, today i had my hair and make-up trials for the wedding. I'm super duper happy with how it all turned out, especially when i imagine the whole look with an actual wedding dress on. And hello, fake eyelashes are the best. I'm converted. Here's the look:

Not bad right? Alas, from tomorrow, it's back to work full-time. No more rest for the wicked either - January is already looking chockers, and before you know it it'll be genuinely time for the wedding.

And so i can finally say Happy New Year! I hope it brings much joy and happiness to you all, and that it's filled with as many adventures as I think ours will be. Bring on 2011!!!

May your days be merry and bright

Christmas: tick.



Over and done with for another year, and in another day it will be 2011 and i will be shaking my head at how the year has flown. I do hope everyone had a great Christmas - we celebrated with friends and family as always, and it was a marvellous, boozy affair. Just as it should be.




But first, some of my Christmas cooking conquests. When it gets to this time of year, I'm always watching Christmas cooking specials. I don't know why. I get strangely addicted to them, and this in turn makes me want to bake. So i did! I made Christmas shortbread cookies, which i sadly burnt (they still tasted good i reckon, and so did Jo, who ate most of them). Here they are:







AND, i made Nigella's Cranberry, Orange and Almond pudding, which came out swimmingly, if i do say so myself. It felt very Christmassy indeed to pour a shitload of cranberries into saucepan and watch them pop....







And the end result looked BETTER than Nigella's, if you ask me. (I know. I too should be starring in my own cooking show. Petition coming soon.)







Our friends Kama and Tony hosted a Christmas booze-up (i mean party), which saw us exchanging hilarious Kris Kringle presents and drinking all manner of Christmas cocktails, my favourite of which was the Christmas in a Glass - prosecco and gingerbread liqueur. I mean you guys! It really IS Christmas in a glass!




She even made EGGNOG. EGGNOG people. Which by the way, actually has egg in it. (What? I was shocked.) Don't let that put you off though, its delicious. Or maybe i was just too "happy" (read: tipsy) to give a rats. Anythings possible. To top it off, they had a real tree - which pretty much crapped all over our fake plastic one.

Kama in all her Christmas glory

Jo and I

Me and my prosecco (and Tony.)

Getting home at 2am was possibly not the greatest idea the night before Christmas Eve, but what can you do. I pressed on and decided the best cure for a hangover was to continue the party. My team at work decided a long lunch was in order (who bloody well has to work on Christmas Eve anyway??), so we took ourselves off to Assiette, a VERY nice restaurant in Surry Hills, and proceeded to spend the next 4 hours drinking ourselves merrily into the afternoon. Back to work it was NOT, not after all those cosmopolitans, so i rushed back home to meet Jo and we headed off to my parents, where we camped ourselves for the next 2 days.

I knew we had to go to a big family Christmas Eve bash, but honestly, there was no way i was fit to go anywhere without having a nap first. Not if i was going to continue to abuse my body anyway, which was (naturally) the plan. Christmas Eve is traditionally celebrated with my Dad's side of the family - a rowdy bunch, and that's putting it mildly, so i knew that the food and drink would be flowing right through to midnight. Jo always says he has to mentally prepare for the event. It's usually at my parents place, but my cousin Frank hosted this year. I have no idea how i made it to midnight, but i did people, i did. Which means i basically endured 48 hours of eating and drinking nonstop. Which is pretty awesome, when you think about it.

The kids had fun with a snowman pinata - funny that when you give someone a stick and tell them to whack the crap out of something, their inner-caveman in unleashed. They actually went schizo. Wild look in their eyes, untamed bellowing...it was all there. When the poor snowman finally fell apart, they pounced on that chocolate like it was the last thing they were ever gonna do. And God help you if you tried to sneak a piece for yourself. I should know.

Max

Jack

Raffael, taking it all very seriously...

Chocolate madness

Christmas day dawned bright and clear and damn hot. Woot! Just the way i like it. We spent it with my mums side of the family at my parents place, and this year we had some old friends join us too, so that made it extra nice. I was well pleased with my loot (not that Christmas is about presents or anything. I totally know that.) Tom Ford sunnies from Jo, a fab Oroton bag from Maria, and cold hard cash from my parents.

Even my brother got me something. Normally his reaction to presents is an unintelligible grunt, followed by an "I forgot". What did you forget?? Christmas?? You forgot it was Christmas?? But this year he actually requested something specific from me, so he must have known there'd be no option but to return the favour.

Jo and my cousin Tony lounging with the dogs

A Christmas kiss from Reggie

My uncle tops the afternoon off with nap

We don't usually go with the traditional ham or turkey at our house for Christmas. Tradition for us is homemade gnocchi - the BEST you'll ever eat by the way, and literally the only time we make them is for Christmas and Easter. But this year we DID have a turkey, cause my uncle got it for free when he bought a new fridge. (*shrugs*. Don't ask me.)

Since we don't usually have one, i can't say we're entirely familiar with how to cook it. My parents solution was to just sort of shove it in the oven and hope for the best. When it came out, they spent 30 minutes arguing about how best to carve it. And then, my Dad wanted to throw out the stuffing. Say it with me people - WHAT??? THROW OUT THE STUFFING?? Everyone knows the stuffing is the best part! My Dad's attitude to food is this - if he doesn't eat it, no one should. Luckily, i stepped in and gave him an earful about not being selfish on Christmas, thereby saving the holiday for ourselves and for all mankind.

And that, folks, was Christmas. A few card games and lots of beer later it was all over for another year. Thankfully i haven't had to go back to work this week, so I've spent lots of quality time with the TV - I've had a stack of books on my shelf which i told myself i would absolutely get to over the holidays, but lets face it - an MTV marathon of 16 and Pregnant totally beats reading.

New Years Eve is tomorrow, but i don't make resolutions. I know i won't stick to them. I change my mind about things all the time, alas. I DO know that 2011 will be a huge and exciting year - lots of change, and lots of adventures. And it all beings very soon, so I'm going to bed, or maybe to watch more 30 Rock re-runs. I hope everyone has a great start to the new year - as my brother would say, go hard or go home. See you all next year!