Perhaps An Ectoplasm

Its just soo Destination Bedtime now. But I just had to show you this photo taken just moments before my guests arrived last evening for our weekly 'Mad Men' dinner.

1. I am wearing a sequinned singlet top with An Unfortunate Hankerchief Hem skirt that I persist in wearing, masses of black beads & some v. cheap rhinestones & my brand new twelve dollar silver ballet slippers with brand new black sockettes from 'Target' where the clothes are awful but where the Shoes & Sox Shine.

AJ, who never holds back, remarked that in this Sparkling Outfit, I could sashay twenty metres up the road where Sydney's Red Light District is conveniently located & make a few extra bucks.

2. Note what appears to be An Ectoplasm on the left of the photo. I showed it to my guests once they arrived. No one could come up with an Plausible Explanation.

I do so love a Mystery.

Finally Therapy is Beginning to Pay Off

I've just deleted everything that I've typed.

It was the Only Decent & Adult thing to do.

But In case you were wondering, I was talking about My Arms.

Forget them, I say to Myself.

Its not as if I've spent my entire life enthusiastically working on my backhand, have I?

And just because I now spend a large chunk of the week in Downward Facing Dog doesn't mean that I've got the right to think that they're going to Magically Transform into Serena Williams's Arms, do I ?

Is Serena Williams a good choice for Arm Lust, I wonder? Perhaps her arms are like George Foreman's? I don't know. I must look.

But what I really wanted to say was:

Look at the Perfectly Formed Scrumptious & Magical Little Iced Cake with Dorothy on top which was made by Monniker who is next to me. Me & My Guests merrily shovelled it in during 'Intermission' last night at my 'Mad Men Series 3 Sunday Nite Dinner' last nite.

As I was shovelling, I described the cake as 'Restaurant Quality' which Aunt Jenny said was an insult.

I tried to eat the cake with Gay Abandon.

I'm Not a Prisoner to Obsessive Thoughts about Cakes, am I?

I just won't eat a thing tomorrow. That's what I'll do.

Perfect.

Tomorrow is shown above. I deliberately wore figure hugging clothing to prove that I didn't really believe that I could gain massive kilos overnight just because I ate a slice of cake.

And to prove a point, I brought the leftovers to school & ate another slice at recess. I made everyone else have a slice too.

Even though it Looked Little, The Cake, all white & creamy & buttery fed all up Ten People.

And there was still more left. Kind of a Loaves & Fishes scenario really.

And I ate lunch which was half of Trixie's Chicken Stir Fry with rice. And I had dinner too which was last nite's leftover chicken.

Finally therapy is beginning to pay off.

Never, I Repeat Never ,Tell Me to Get A Life

1. A Favourite Outing.

I do enjoy being asked to a friend's house for dinner. Especially if there's more than Just Me invited. If there's More, then the outing can be Officially Called, 'A Dinner Party' & then when you tell people what you're doing on the weekend, it sounds like you've 'Got a Life'.

Which is a totally stupid thing to say anyway because everyone does have a life whether they like it or not.

Oh God, I must stop stating the Bleeding Obvious.

But before I do, let me just say that I think that one of the most loathsome things you can hurl at someone is, 'Get a Life!'

What are you supposed to say back?

'Thanks for reminding me. I've been meaning to get one of those for a long time. And now I will. Cheers'.

Anyway, here I am on saturday nite cozying up to my friend Sherman's Retro phone in his local bijou apartment.

I was the first to arrive, so Sherman let me play with the phone which is identical to the one we had in my family home when I was growing up. I even dialled my old phone number -FY5502 which made me feel like I really did grow up in another time & in another galaxy.

And, boy did it bring up some Nasty Memories. Like the endless hours I spent as a hapless teenager sitting looking at it & willing it to ring. And then picking up the receiver just to make sure there was a dial tone.

2. The Importance of a Well-Set Dining Table.

There's not much more that I can say really. Other than to ask you to look at the huge knives that Sherman provided which was Slightly Overkill as we were only eating v. tender chicken medallions. But that's me Being Picky.

I just loved the eclectic mixing of silver candelabra & perhaps eighties dinnerware. And the starched white tablecloth that I promptly spilt red wine on .

I personally never use tablecloths. I haven't got the requisite laundry facilities to Service a Tablecloth. I just use mats.

Addendum.

While we're on the topic of 'Dinner Parties', I'm pleased to announce that my Sunday Nite 'Mad Men' dinner will Officially Resume on February 25, with the airing of Season 3. About time too.

A Footnote.

I seem to have a Summer Cold. I would like to slap someone across the face with a Wet Flounder.

The Miracle of the 'Mad Men' Dinner

Last night was my weekly 'Mad Men' dinner. 

It's a v. appropriate name for a dinner that I might host. Not that I'm taking any cheap shots at anybody or anything.

Some of you may wonder what constitutes a  'Mad Men Dinner'.  You may have imagined a whole lot of crazy middleaged guys Behaving Badly whilst we raucous women throw rotten tomatoes at them. 

Sadly, that's not it.

 It's a cable TV show convincingly set in a Madison Ave Advertising agency in the early sixties. There's a large cast of characters & many of them are Rather Mad Men who behave appallingly whilst smoking cigarettes from every orifice. You could get lung cancer just from watching the show.

Luckily for me, none of my local pals have Cable. But I do. So I'm Suddenly Popular.

Look at the picture above will you. Tyler, my wonderful stepson again joined us for dinner. As you can see, he's a little in awe of the intense light just above the statue of  Our Lady With No Hands. In fact, we were all a little amazed.

Was this the precursor to a Vision, like Fatima or Lourdes, perhaps? 

I have always been terrified but also fascinated by these Earthly visions ever since I was originally told about them by Hateful Sister Rosalia in Kindergarten. She told us five year olds that Our Lady had visited these three stupid peasant kids in Fatima in about 1917 & told them three secrets that they could only tell to the local priest who would then pass them  on to The Pope. Over the years, the first two secrets were revealed. I can only vaguely remember one of them, which was that Evil Communism was threatening to take over the world & kill us all. And all because the world didn't go to Mass on sundays enough.

 That scared the living daylights out of me. 

But the thing that made me totally unable to sleep with the light off was that Only the Pope knew the contents of the Third Secret. And he wasn't going to tell.

Instantly, I knew what it was. 

Now, you may think that a five year old wouldn't know such things. But I was an Old Soul, as they say. I'd been around before. I knew that the Third Secret was about the World ending by perhaps one of those large bombs that I'd heard about. I sat at my little desk a complete mess.

And I hated that Mary for coming & smarmily telling hideous secrets, all the while looking like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. What was the point? Did she really think that the whole world was suddenly going to drop everything & race off to Mass every Sunday just because she tells little peasant kiddies that ? I don't think so.

So, it was with some surprise & relief that when the contents of the Third Secret finally came out in the nineties, it was a Complete Fizzer. The Vatican revealed that it told of the Pope's assassination attempt in the early eighties. Yawn. But what a relief all the same. All those years of mindless worrying for nothing. Maybe I wasn't born an Old Soul after all. 

Just a Worried One.

And now for The Food.

 Each week, everyone brings something with a Slightly Sixties feel to it. My parents favourite hors d'oevre (bad spelling) was Angels on Horseback, which were smoked oysters with bacon wrapped around them. And then there were tinned prunes again wrapped in bacon. It was amazing how versatile bacon was back then.

So far, I haven't served up any of these delicacies. But I might soon.

Last night I made Potatoes au Gratin which became a firm favourite of mine in I believe, the late sixties. I'm proudly showing it off, below, along with my bare arms that I usually cover. What a risk taker!

The potato dish was served with a Brave Meatloaf that Jenny made. 

The Grand Finale was Traditional Trifle made by Monica.  Jenny is looking on as if she's never seen anyone use whipped cream in a can before. What a sheltered life.

Because I have v. strict dietary rules, like no carbs after lunch & hardly no wine, I find these weekly feasts a magnificent treat. I let everything slide & shovel in as much as I like & even have a couple of glasses of wine. 

Mad Men, Carbs & Wine. What more could I want?