July 2006

Club Shéd in full swing. (Note the cage for go-go dancing.)

Well, Jimi's 30th birthday party was a huge success. The place was crammed to the rafters with all the beautiful people, all dressed tragically in 70's gear. There were afros, flares, sequins, side burns, the lot. Good taste not only took a severe battering that night, but had its wallet and mobile phone stolen as well.

I didn't do a count of how many people attended, but I'd guess it was well in excess of 100. DJ Shigeki was perched precariously on top of the container spinning all of his least favourite 70's remixes. Actually, he did an excellent job. The party pumped.

Jimi's plan was to finish the party by 1am so that he could get out clubbing. That turned out to be a bit of a problem because everyone was just starting and didn't want to leave! After killing all the music and turning on the "ugly lights" we managed to sweep everyone out at about 2:30am so the party could be continued on Oxford Street.

Apparently Jimi had a very good birthday weekend, but he did manage to send his mortal remains around on the following Monday to help me clean up the Shed. It took us most of Monday to get the place back to normal again, but then again, it took us most of Friday to get it into party mode in the first place.

Sam took pity on my lack of husband and fed me a very nice and somewhat huge lump of meat while Greig was away. (Get your minds out of the gutter people - this was a bit of cow!) It also gave me an opportunity to meet the most recent addition to his household, a miniature dachshund with lots of energy and extremely sharp teeth.

For the life of me I still can't think of its name, although I still have the puncture wounds to remind me of its teeth.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the planet, Greig was witnessing Michael and Will "getting hitched". My stand-in for the event was Daniel, the English boy that Greig met here late last year. The day started with a breakfast followed by the all very legal-and-binding Civil Ceremony where the two of them promised to be nice to each other till death do they part. After the ceremony was a very nice (and probably very English) reception where everyone had very polite drinks.

The happy couple before the drinks got nasty.

Then they all headed upstairs for a formal lunch and more civil drinks. The lunch ended, only to be replaced by a party where more drinks were consumed. The party moved on to the local gay pub, and that was where the drinks started to turn nasty. Sensibly, Greig and Daniel chose to leave the pub at the civil hour of 3am.

Oh. I've just been told the pub closed at 3am. The had no choice but to leave.

Michael and Will retired to their nice hotel for their first evening of married hitched bliss. Apparently some of the nastier of the drinks were waiting in the hotel hall and mischievously tripped Michael over causing him to hit his head, knocking him out cold. The happy couple continued their party at the local hospital before leaving in despair because no-one would refresh their cocktails.

Speaking of lovely couples, I didn't mention that while Jimi was in Paris in May, he met a very nice French boy who he fell rather deeply for. Well, as deeply as you can in only a week. It seems the feeling was very mutual because now said French boy is in Sydney, staying with Jimi for a couple of months.

I mention this purely because it sets up the background for a rather nice dinner that Greig (yes, he's back from Europe now) and I held for Jimi and Antoine with Sam and Will also in attendence. (Sam and Will are not a couple.) Jimi and Antoine spent the evening fawning over each other like young lovers do. The rest of us spent the night trying not to throw up at the outrageous displays of affection.

So, world. Mark it in your diaries. In July of 2006, after years of searching, Jimi finally believes he has found his one and only true love.

Ain't love grand?