Last Wednesday was my birthday, and although the thought occurred to me to take the day off, I decided to work as normal - no such thing as free time off for us temps. It wasn't that bad really, the people at work got me a cake and then the two women I work for in the HR department took me to lunch at a nearby Marriott hotel. It was a gloriously sunny day, so we sat outside on a patio with a few conference delegates and the droning traffic to keep us company.
When I got home the food-related celebrations continued as my flatmate Geraldine cooked an outstanding curry for me, which we ate in true birthday style - in front of the telly. Afterwards she disappeared and came back with the cake from my work (they made me take it home) covered in candles. I'd not had to blow out candles since I was a kid, so gave it one almighty puff - and succeeded in removing the top layer of shaved coconut all over the carpet. Still, I got most of the candles out as well.
My other flatmate was away then, so the three of us went for dinner last night to a French restaurant in Surry Hills. Whenever you read a description of Surry Hills, the word 'bohemian' is usually in there somewhere. Essentially the area is a bit grubby, but down to earth and with a lot of hidden restaurants, bars and galleries. I suppose it all depends on your definition of bohemian - or if you even care. Still, the restaurant we went to was very good - proper French food, very tasty, very little of it, piled in artful towers in the centre of the plate. It was expensive ($50), but good - although I could have eaten everything again - as Gerard said "There's a bowl of Weaties at home with my name on it."
On the way home we stopped in a pub for a couple of drinks, and arrived just before England beat Australia by 2 runs in an incredible finish to the 2nd Ashes Test. The result caused a fair bit of shouting, and predictably a fight broke out - Surry Hills is popular with Brits for the cheap rental prices. The lone doorman did his best to get in the middle, and did a good job of chucking out one side (the Australian) and barring the other (about five English lads - who were getting quite a kicking) from leaving. It spilled out onto the street eventually, but everything had cleared away by the time we left. Still, it gave me something to write about, eh?
