All killer, no filler
Well, it's been an interesting week. Last Friday Steve and I flew to Queenstown for the launch of an art book I edited a while ago. This event drew some of the richest people I've ever met... and it should, considering the book cost $28,000. It was a black-tie affair and there was a roaming camera crew, interviewing some of the richest-looking people. I stood still for a few moments and was immediately approached - no doubt they saw me and thought "Those pearls are the size of pigeons' eggs! She must be rolling in it!" Had they only asked me, I could have informed them that yes, they are the size of pigeons' eggs, and you can get them for 50c each from Spotlight. Anyway, they asked me lots of questions which I answered in a most un-sound-bitey manner, and then they finished with "And have you bought any of the art?" I quashed the desire to say, "Lady, if I sold my house I'd have trouble buying any of this stuff," and said demurely, "My husband and I have been discussing it all weekend." (Which is true, we've been looking at the paintings and saying "They cost what?") Anyway, after the speechifying the best covers band I've ever heard started up, and I danced for hours. (Mostly alone, because 'im indoors kept standing still and looking over my shoulder open-mouthed at the bass player and saying "This guy is the best bass player I've ever heard!") Then the truly bizarre bit happened - the billionaire (yes, that's billionaire with a "b") who was hosting the event got up and sang "Gloria". Now, that's OK, because ... wait for it... he wrote "Gloria". He also sang (and wrote) "Hang on Sloopy" and "Brown-Eyed Girl". He was also head of White House security for four presidents, until he had a disagreement with Carter. He was 60 and his wife was younger than me. So there we are, dancing in a barn in the middle of nowhere to an American billionaire singing "Gloria" with a Polynesian covers band, surrounded by Kiwi art. The night was capped off by the fact that I was having a FANTASTIC hair day. Steve kept coming up to me and staring at it and saying "Your hair is just amazing! I've never seen it look that good!" (Eight years' proximity to my neuroses'll do that to a guy.) When we got back to the hotel he said "That was such a great night! And your hair..." he glanced at me, and struggled manfully with the truth, "...only got poofy right at the very end."
So then we move on to Tuesday. On Tuesday, I was taken to lunch by a client. Not so unusual, I've had lovely lunches at the French Cafe and White at the Hilton in the last couple of months. But this client outdid them all. This one took me to... Melbourne. For lunch. Thing was, the lunch was on Wednesday, but they couldn't fly me in and out in the same day. So I was forced to go to Melbourne on Tuesday, stay in a luxury hotel overnight, wander Melbourne by myself for hours the next morning having coffee and pastries and looking in bookshops, then go to a gourmet lunch in a designer location, shop for two hours and fly home. The things I do for this job.
Then on Thursday Steve and I hosted our inaugural Wayne's World party. We invited only the most select group of friends - all music freaks - who we knew would appreciate the base humour. I made two enormous pizzas and a pot of nachos and provided bottomless bowls of M&Ms and we didn't beat anyone to death with their own shoes. It was fantastic - we'd picked just the right mix of mad musos and we all laughed ourselves sick. A great week. Party on.
So then we move on to Tuesday. On Tuesday, I was taken to lunch by a client. Not so unusual, I've had lovely lunches at the French Cafe and White at the Hilton in the last couple of months. But this client outdid them all. This one took me to... Melbourne. For lunch. Thing was, the lunch was on Wednesday, but they couldn't fly me in and out in the same day. So I was forced to go to Melbourne on Tuesday, stay in a luxury hotel overnight, wander Melbourne by myself for hours the next morning having coffee and pastries and looking in bookshops, then go to a gourmet lunch in a designer location, shop for two hours and fly home. The things I do for this job.
Then on Thursday Steve and I hosted our inaugural Wayne's World party. We invited only the most select group of friends - all music freaks - who we knew would appreciate the base humour. I made two enormous pizzas and a pot of nachos and provided bottomless bowls of M&Ms and we didn't beat anyone to death with their own shoes. It was fantastic - we'd picked just the right mix of mad musos and we all laughed ourselves sick. A great week. Party on.