Sunday night musings.

Yesterday, like that one day in October every other year, I went to the local district gala, the Granny Smith Festival. Of course, Ryde being the birthplace of the Granny Smith apple and all, what else is there to do but eat apples? And I tell you what, I don't think I could look at an apple let alone eat one for the next few months.

I think the local knees-up has lost a bit of its lustre. Maybe it's just because I've grown out of it a little. I remember that all through high school, Granny Smith used to be one of the big things on the social calendar. It was all about who was going with who, and the stories of the juvenile shenanigans from that one day in October often lived on, well into the next year.

That said, it was still good. The community was out and out, Rowe Street was plugged up with boutique stalls and Eastwood Oval was packed with dressed-up kids of all ages queuing up to go on one of the rides. There was no shortage of pretty or spunky lads either, and they were the types that I like too - surfer-skaters and prettyboys in general. Of course some of them, as Dave from uni puts it, would probably have to be put away on layby for a year or two. Heh. Erm. But yeah anyway, there was, however, one thing missing this year: potheads smoking bongs behind Baker's Delight. Ah well, can't have it all.

Last night, one of the boys in my year group in high school was launching his album at my local, the Eastwood Hotel, and the night turned into a small reunion. Amongst those in attendance were two ex-girlfriends (yes, girls), both of whom are now engaged to be married. I saw one, Cindy, and we briefly spoke. I put on the campest act - just for fun, and asked to meet her fiancé, but she wasn't fond of the idea. "What am I supposed to say?" she asked me. "Tell him, 'hey, meet my gay ex-boyfriend'?" I didn't see her point.

A couple of years ago I'd met Dylan, the fiancé of the other (girl)ex and close friend Jenni, and he's excellent. And cute too. Great seeing him again. She'd just come back from a two-year stint working at a hotel in Uluru and I hadn't seen her since she left, so we had heaps to catch up on. Gosh I missed her.


Listening to:
Title: 60 Miles An Hour
Artist: New ORder
Album/station: International (2002)
Length: 4.35