… is burning a chunk of your hair with a curling iron 5 minutes before having to run out the door, leaving you with this choice: a) look lovely with shiny, styled hair and one fried piece, or b) hack off the damage with a pair of blunt scissors and spend the night being awkward so that nobody ever sees the back of your head.
I went with second option.
I could give you a blow-by-blow account of the party, but that would be boring, so here is something infinitely more fun:
I drank twenty beers and got in a fight. Nath unveiled a teleportation device he’d been working on for ten years and was awarded prizes and given giant cheques by girls dressed up like Texan beauty queens. The engaged couple got kidnapped by pirates. Our baby niece suddenly revealed that not only can she talk (despite being less than 6 months old), she actually has ten boyfriends and is head of an illegal car theft operation. And there were monkeys.
xx Bunny Florentine
Well, that was certainly an experience.
For a lark, I decided to audition for Tokyo Disneyland – they were doing an international audition tour to find singers, dancers, aerialists and character look-alikes for the resort. I rocked up for the character audition; they were specifically looking for characters including some that I sort of resemble (Ariel, Aurora, Alice in Wonderland, etc), and a lot of people have previously described my demeanor as very “Disney princess”. So I figured I’d go along and try my luck. But the audition process was a bit of a LOLfest – this is what I learnt:
- just because you are not auditioning to be a dancer does not mean you won’t be hit with an audition dance component
- when you question this, prepare to be patronizingly told by a fellow auditionee, “It’s not a dance, they are just going to teach us a combination“
- a ‘combination’ entails being able to execute a sequence to music with almost no practice, while someone barks at you, “Chassé! Balancé! Pas de bourrée! Step, pivot, present , wave to the right for 4, wave to the left for 8, and… POSE!”
- standard attire for a non-dance audition seems to be leotards, tights and ballet split-soles
- this can be accompanied by a full face of stage makeup, if you like – false eyelashes and clashy red lipstick, yeah!
Shrug. I don’t know – with the dance component, it just seemed redundant to pretend that it was based on something other than our looks.
Oh well. After the audition, I ate an almond croissant, had a wander through one of my favourite furniture stores and went home for an afternoon nap, before coming back to Nathan’s for spaghetti and a night on the couch watching Extras– so whatever… I think in the way I spent the rest of the day, I out-princessed everybody anyway.
xx Princess Bunny
So I have had a week off school, ostensibly to give me a chance to catch up on things and have a bit of extra time to perfect the first wave of assignments. It is almost Thursday and neither of those things have happened yet.
Today I peeled myself out of my sickbed, slapped on some mascara and went for a mini-trek at about 4pm – a mission entitled “I haven’t eaten anything today and now after almost passing out in the shower I have realized my blood sugar levels are kind of screwed up and now affecting my ability to actually execute a plan to feed myself”. Several exciting things happened. I was hit on by a woman twice my age on the tram, it rained, and I had the chance to play a very rare and exciting game on the corner of Bourke and Elizabeth Streets – are they a) drunk, b) crazy, or c) engaging in some sort of impromptu French existentialist absurdist street performance?
Nath chose drunk. I’m still not sure. If it was performance, does this confusion mean they were supremely good at it? Or were they supremely bad? – the lasting impression has nothing to do with what they were actually speaking about or any meaning they might have been trying to convey.. unless it was a piece called “the fine line between drunk, crazy and absurdism”. Shrug.
We also went to Ant’s for some dragon buns. 猪肉包子 (feeling like I should at least try to keep up my Chinese skills). I adore theirs – they are small and not sweet, but complex with overtones of ginger and star anise. They make me happy…
Seems Stuart’s Nightclub is still in full swing – I came home, hacking and coughing but clutching butter menthols (sweet mercy), to discover some random girl doing the dishes. Hair extensions, heels and rubber gloves. I thought they were all leaving, but then they came back with fifty thousand bags of McDonalds and more people. Once again – SHRUG. I have relinquished all responsibility here….
UPDATE: Stuart’s friends left the front door wide open, the cat has escaped and run off into the night. Stuart is off his head, decided that someone must be in the house and ran around brandishing a sword to “fuck them up”. HELP.