Tapping my toes and swaying my arms to The Sound of Silence [Simon & Garfunkel - features a mention to the neon street lights] this afternoon, I prepared for my first outing to Striker - a bowling alley in the heart of Surfers Paradise. Alleys I have no problem with, but bowling - oh!
That's another story. No matter the strength of my arm, the perfection of my swing, the glisten in my eye, or the squeakiness of my shoe: I always come last [yes, even on my birthday].Over the years, I've become accustomed to this recurring nightmare and have come to enjoy, rather, dancing under the neon lights and exposing anything white to its quirky eye. Socks, singlets and sometimes wedgies - aha! Behold the glowing exuberance of the neon!
Yes; fun. Today, also, I must reserve some words in congratulating our dear Queenie on making another year round the block - good work, old lass. I thank you mainly because I fulfilled only 4 hours of duty at ye Hyatt for the price of NINE. I therefore had much of the day to put aside for sleeping in, straightening hairs, munching crumpets and disturbing the neighbours with my renditions of Unbreak My Heart [Braxton], Your Song [Rouge], etc. Not that they mind of course - I have beautiful vocal chords.
I went to the Rove site today to make reservations so that I might see him when I'm in the same city as he, shortly. However, waves of devastation drowned me when I discovered that he is completely sold out for the remainder of the year! The nerve! I love him [and Hamish Blake; ok, mostly Hamish]. His site is nonetheless worth a squiz because it's quite funny in itself. One key new story I discovered on it was that oyster farmers have been lacing their produce with viagra to accentuate its aphrodisiac properties! It's that the darndest! Rove is quite the shmexual being in Lisa McCune's dresses too....
I find that it is here that I must turn on stockinged heel and flick now-straightened hair in farewelling you until the next blog.
Au revoir!
-Alejandra [to the Spaniards]
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