Last
weekend Ms P and I decided to get up early and hit the Bondi to Bronte track,
we invited Ms B and Ms L but due to booze orientated commitments the night
before neither of them could attend.
It’s
funny how much I treasure my free time now that I have a full-time job. However, when I’m on my own clock I tend to now have a lot less patience with other
people.
Get
the fuck out of my way loved up couple who insist on holding hands and taking
up the entire pathway.
I
don’t have time for this shit, I need to pound this pavement for exactly 60
minutes before my brunch date at 10.
Ms
P talk to me!
‘I
think I have an ingrown toenail and it’s infected.’ She said with her face
screwed up
Ew.
‘Well
you look good’ I replied raising my eyebrows up and down like a creepy mc
creepster
We’re
both wearing our best workout gear, Nike this, Stylerunner that. When “working
out” in Bondi there is a certain standard you have to uphold.
I
used to think that it was all bullshit until I dated a PT based in North Bondi.
I will never forget the time I walked past him at Icebergs after a 5km run
(hobble) sweating like a pig in my target sports bra, my mums old Rivers
runners and a coffee stained ‘have a nice day’ T-shirt. I was so mortified I
went and sat behind a bush for several minutes to calm myself down.
Anyway.
We completed the track in record time despite having to stop for pictures and a
few cheeky perves.
Witness the fitness!
By the time we got back to Bondi the girls had finally made their way over to meet us at one of my favourite brunch spots Trio.
I must advise you the best stuff on this menu is not for the calorie conscious.
Ms P and I ordered the breakfast burritos, Ms L ordered the Mediterranean Breakfast while Ms decided on scrambled eggs with a selection of sides.
I can’t tell you much about the variety of this menu because I order the Trio breakfast burritos every time. When I first tried the chilli sala filling my mouth watered profusely but when I found out it was actually made up of slow cooked chorizo I literally died in the middle of the restaurant in front of all the bondi glitteratzi.
Its beyond words!
After breakfast Ms L gave me her present - a gorgeous Alexander McQueen razor leather bracelet LOVE!
We got the bill and then Ms B lured us all back to her car with promise of one last birthday surprise, the suspense almost killed me...
As soon as I caught a peek inside the paper I was blown away!
It was a frame full of all of my most memorable moments with the Queens, each picture telling a story of where we've been and the incredible times that we've shared in The Dirthouse
The best bit was what I found in the little pink bag...
One hundred personalised Heaven on Bourke business cards.
Not only have these girls allowed me to take pictures of them every day and write about their personal stories for the whole world to read but they have supported and encouraged me all the way along.
Ms B grabbed a card from the pile, on the front a picture of me clinging to a Bourke St street sign looking like a dag in an old pair of grey track pants, pink thongs and my hair piled onto of my head, she took it and put it in my hand.
"Don't forget who you are dickhead"
"How could I ever forget?"
No comments:
Post a Comment