Dinner with the Gurlz

Hubby is away in Berlin looking at some drawings leaving me alone for the evening - and the girls are at their Grandma's and so I think this might have been a ploy to give me time to myself. Happy Women's Day! :o) So it is now or never for a quick bite with "The Gurlz". I do NOT want to cook. I feel lazy and simply want to crawl into a pair of sweats and a ponytail ... make the calls. Rachel, Liz, Babs. They have all been cast adrift for the night.

There are at least 128 Chinese restaurants in the tri-lakes area, or that’s when I stopped counting through the telephone book while I waited 17 minutes for a bottle of champagne to be brought down in temparature in my freezer. And don’t talk to me about going out - if I have to drive an hour into downtown just to have an idiot sitting behind me with a handy stuck up his ear for half and hour talking about beach volley ball promotion and I mean maybe there was no one other than his dog on the other end so he could impress the stuck up brunette number sitting across from him I think I will relieve the pressure from his ear and stick it up his ***. But I am saved by the bell - the Gurlz are here!!

The second bottle of pop exhausted we lounge about eating ice cream waiting for the Chinese food to arrive. We’ve all tried the food in four different parts of the city in the last days and come to the conclusion most everyone must be taste dead - like we’re living in this huge taste dead swath that cuts in front of us and could explain the discoloured vegetables and overcooked fish of so many restaurants. McDonalds anyone?? See you soon! So now I know the fizz is going to me head. There IS good food out there - but let's be honest - sometimes it just isn't on the plate in front of us. I like to go out to relax, not criticise ...

Setting my fear of flying to the side I'm able to pull my eyes off Liz and her exquisitly expanding midrif - far too many calories poor dear and ... but I still can't get my summer moment flirting across the restaurant out of my mind - just as the doorbell rang. Am worried about exactly how cold this food might be as it took an hour to arrive and there is a group of Chinese - tourists? - standing there in my hallway with bags of food. I fold my arms against me to keep myself warm and ward off icy blasts of air coming from the takeout containers. I tip big - because I feel guilty?

"Gulrz! Turn on the oven, this stuff is cold!"