Spontaneous combustion

I am the opposite of spontaneous. I like order and at least a month’s notice.

DD is very spur-of-the-moment in his approach to life.

I have no idea how we ended up together.

(Actually, I do, RSVP … but anyways …)

Case in point: as I sat at my computer working in my sweaty gym clothes yesterday afternoon, he texted asking if I’d like to join him and a friend at the Opera Bar for a drink.

Like, right then.

Cue panic as I decided on the necessity of a shower, what to wear and how the hell I’d get there in a timely fashion.

But the outcome was gorgeous.

I drank bubbles with the Sydney Harbour Bridge as a backdrop, while giving DD’s lovely (single) friend Mike some very uneducated dating advice. I mean … don’t listen to me. I was with the same bloke for 23 years from the age of 24ish and DD was my first RSVP date. I’m no expert.

But I did help Mike chat to a pair of English girls who were off to see Geoffrey Rush in King Lear. They were English Literature graduates and just as smart as they were gorgeous …




DD was scaring the poor young things with his saucy banter, so I had to step in and salvage the situation.

I told them my harrowing Mrs Geoffrey Rush story – they seemed quite entertained and promised to check out my blog (if you do, girls, Mike would love to catch up, he was entranced/enchanted/dazzled by you and very disappointed that I didn’t get your phone numbers before you headed off to the play).

We continued sipping bubbles as the sun set over the Sydney Harbour Bridge and Mike was replaced by DD’s brother Nick as our drinking companion.

Things got a bit elderly when we became all judgey about how we could tell what sort of waxing some of the girls had on their nethers. I swear, that’s how short their skirts/shorts were. You could see EVERYTHING.

Finally, we wobbled off into the night, with me dropped the blokes off in Crows Nest for a sibling drink.

There’s only so much spontaneity I can handle with two demanding fur babies at home.

But I’ve decided it can be lots of fun.

I should have tried it much earlier in life.

But I really should have skipped getting those damn fur babies – that way I could have joined the blokes for drinks in Crows Nest instead of slouching off.


No, Margot, I can’t hand them into the RSPCA. They are my burden and I must accept it because I was STUPID enough to buy them … spontaneously … how’s that for irony?

Are you the spontaneous type?

Here are some happy snaps …


Song of the day: Paula Abdul “Opposites attract”



6 thoughts on “Spontaneous combustion

Add yours

  1. Stunning snaps. What a lovely happy time. I am definitely more like you in the not-spontaneous thing, I like notice. But when people do drag me out, I always have a great time and think, why don’t I just DO these things more often! Hmmm I can see I need to think really carefully about my potentially puppy situation when we move. I might need to find a Maureen-type person first.

  2. I saw King Lear in Sydney thirty years ago. Judy Davis played Cordelia AND the Fool. Colin Friels was in it too. It was beyond brilliant. What I’d give to see Geoffrey Rush…
    No I’m not spontaneous. But when I push myself I usually find being spontaneous is fun. Bloody nuisance dogs eh.

  3. There is nothing wrong with being judgy when skirts and shorts are short enough to be able to do a visual gynaecological examination without their wearers even bending over. Our elders did it to us. They’ll do it to the next generation. It’s the circle of life.

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