It seemed like a good idea on Friday night to turn a couple of quiet wines and a platter with a couple of girlfriends into a couple of beers at home, a few gins and then a couple of bottles of wine after said platter. Throw into the mix getting a text message you had given up expecting, and your friend’s new boyfriend’s ex girlfriend, as well as another friend coming off the back of a huge working week, hammered after two glasses of wine, and some deep and meaningful conversations and you have yourself quite a Friday night indeed. Having earlier in the night declared my 2012 thus far kebab-free, it was tempting fate really. Not obviously satisfied after the delicious platter, all class you find yourself walking up Cuba St mowing into that felafel like your life depended on it.
Saturday morning and I had very tentative and last minute plans to attend "Wellington’s biggest party" (enough time having passed since the last round of rugby-related partying), which meant the wedding cake I’m making my workmate once again went on the back burner, despite my best intentions of utilizing having the house to myself. What eventuated was costumes and beers and before I knew it, with my flatmate’s brother and his butcher clad friends I was funneling cans of Smirnoff black like an enthusiastic 16 year old. I then unfortunately found myself in yet another kebab queue, having earlier retained my jager bomb sculling title against a crew of Miss Piggy's.
Sunday was slow starting, but I was grateful to attend a family lunch with delicious chinese spiced duck, with bok choy and noodles, and the mint and chilli dressed salad was a delight. I came home to a humungous list of weekend tasks, and with neither the energy nor motivation to undertake even the simplest I just had a nap. A burst of post-nap energy meant I made it to the supermarket, and having indulged in the most delicious apple ever (NZ Beauty – get them while they’re in season. They’re amazing!) the energy sap returned to the point where only the dairy products were put away and the remaining groceries stayed in bags on the floor.
It then swiftly became the kind of Sunday night I remembered so well in my heartbroken state of a couple of years ago. Lonely. Hungover and tired. A bit sad for no reason. What I felt like I needed was a bunch of girlfriends and a litre of chocolate milk, but both are not always forthcoming. Instead I had the couch and the music channel on TV and before you know it David Gray came on and I was nearly in tears (fun fact: when I was on my gap year I fell asleep to David Gray’s Say Hello Wave Goodbye every night through the headphones of my discman.) Life contemplating this most certainly was not the time for.
But then things took a turn. A blissful turn. Firstly, I cooked some vegetables - specifically, I had a re-read of the ever-inspiring and wonderful blog Orangette and made a slight variation on these citrusy-peanut soba noodles for dinner.
Then, just as I decided I wouldn't dwell on my recent revelation that in all things relationship-y I’m all or nothing and that the grey area of unknowingness is something I don't really handle, my phone rang. Just like that, an old dear friend who I don't see nearly enough of rang and announced her engagement. I was thrilled. I'd caught up with her and her now-fiancé at the end of last year, and to get this news was just so exciting. We briefly reminisced about being 18 year olds in England, and the shenanigans we got up to in Amsterdam and Italy and High Wycombe and Tring. It made my day.
Nothing like a hilarious phone call with an old friend to put things right back into perspective. I’ll get to the wedding cake tomorrow. I’ll clean the bathroom. I'll tidy my room. I’ll blog the backlog. I’ll do some exercise. Less hangovers and more recipes to follow. Tomorrow is another day and everything will be ok.