Bermuda Highway

It's friday and I'm in the square room with Jacqui, who's trying to plan the night ahead, frustrated I try to explain why I don't think we're going to be able to get changed at my place, do dinner and then soldier on down to the 8.30 gala in 2 hours.

It's about $15.50 and a quater to ten by the time our cab pulls into the hotel lobby. Outside the taxi, many many people dressed to the theme of 'bling it on' are milling around, and a valet is trying to usher me out of the taxi as I sign the credit card statement. On the red carpet we're greeted by a barrage of flashes and starbursts from the various press photographers. I try my best to smile while frantically trying to remebr which side my better side is, and then realising I never really had one, panic, slip various smiles on and then finally when I run out grins break into a rather off beat laugh.

A woman frm the Straits times asks her photographer to take a photo of me, and asks where I got the golden cat broach from. I tell her it's mum's. She gets my name scribbles somehting besides it, before dad interjects and asks me what I'd told her.

A waiter pours a glass of champagne down by back, and a local celebrity/cum MTV-J/cum artist takes pity on me and helps fan my shirt for a moment 'you're back's all wet!' she exclaims. A tall blonde cigarettte touting model lands her cigarette butt on the back of my hand and I rember thinking how nice her top is. For a while I'm topless in the the bathroom, frantically fanning the shirt. Val tells me whatever I do, not to use tissue to dry a black shirt, that men are checking me out, that I was so drunk (on monday), that I'd been hit on by a tall guy with a champagne flute.

I tell Sam that I hate this point of the night, when it all starts to fall apart. Jacqui comes back and tells me about her interview with a girl from FHM and how she'd been entrapped into sounding dumb; Who comes to a bobo-chichi tesla technology fashion event and asks the patrons about the meaning of 'Tamasek' anyway ?

Later at zouk we're meeting and greeting more folk from the party before. The rain comes down and we're all trapped under the small white tarp outside winebar. More epople appear , who tell us its too crowded inside. I tell troy that it reminds me of a volume of the Sandman when a strom drives a whole bunch of odd-dimensioned dudes into an inn near one of the soft places. I rmeber somehting about the end of the world and get stuck in a conversation