Oh yeah, it’s Hit Time… Here they are, the hits of the week:

1.  The quote of the week.  It’s not a newie of course, but I was having an internal whinge one day this week, and it popped up in my Instagram.  It’s from ‘A League of Their Own.”  I think it bears remembering.

2.  A fab girly lunch today for the launch of Nikki Parkinson’s new book, Unlock Your Style (you can get yours here, even if you missed the launch).  It was held at Berados (a fancy word for, well, fanceee), and as always the service was impeccable and the food: delish.  Nikki was gorgeous and funny, and very down to Earth, which I guess is what you would expect from a Sunny Coast girl, but still, it was nice to see, and wonderful to be there to help get a book written by an Aussie Blogger on it’s way.

I went with a fun group of ladies: Bigheart, Barbiegirl, DownToEarth, Arty, Lovely, LeadMeAstray and Buzzybee.  And then, of course, there was me: Little Truthful One.  See if you can guess who is who:

The eight dwarves ladies

And here are the rest of the hits of the lunch-launch:

The Stylish Nikki

Books ready for launching

Did I mention there was dessert? Oh YES there was. It was a veritable health food with all that fruit..

3.  Watters, the Happy little Jappy Chappy.  As you know, we have been having a ball with out little fella.. Sunday is just too close (we want to keep him).

It was even more fun tonight because a friend who is a Japanese teacher came over and was able to have a big chat with him, so we found out all sorts.  Yes, he is having fun here, No, he doesn’t want sushi for dinner, Yes (little bugger) thinks he is a better dancer than me, Yes, he liked meat pies, but best of all, he dissed us over the Evil Geniuse’s bedtime.  We have been putting them to bed LATE this week at 7.30pm, but apparently Watters thinks this is ridic and is lying in bed awake for hours (apparently).  Sorry Watters, but when in Noosa….

4.  Decisions.  We all know we have to make them.  We think and think and list and agonise and then, somehow, we make a choice.  It seems that the bigger the decision seems to be, the harder we make it for ourselves until we can be paralysed into indecision.  Yet strangely, as Kelly Exeter points out in her book Your Best Year Yet, we will be happy with our choice.  That is how we are wired.  So why do we even stress about it?

Who even knows?

Regardless, a big cheers to making choices.  And even more, for living in a country where having choices is possible.

5.  The sound of the waves outside.  As I’m sitting up here, super-late (I’ve had a big work-day), I can hear the smashing waves.  Swell must be picking up.  I’m not a good surfer, so it’s not like I need big waves.  I just love the sounds.  Reminds me of Summer Hols down the coast.  Long days.  Sand in your bathers.  Peeling skin on your nose. Hot chips with gravy.  Melting Choc chip ice-creams.  And the comforting rhythm of the sea.

Got any hits?

Have you got your copy of Unlock Your Style or Your Best Year Yet, yet?

…From The Ashers

The Event:

On the weekend I went out with the school mums.

I know, groan.

Sorry school mums, it’s not you, it’s me.  Really.  I’m just not good at all of the things that are involved in a School Mums’ Night Out.  The chit-chat, the making of new friends, the not getting too drunk, the dancing.  All things that I’m rubbish at.  I’m good at watching footy, and beers, and parmas and burping.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a complete feral (hush now those of you who know me well), but I prefer a belch and a belly laugh to a daiquiri and a dance.

However, a Mums’ night out it was, so I embraced my inner Mum and went for it.

Here are the things that happened:

Seriously high… Lucky I have a good chiropractor…

These shoes were purchased for $7.50 from Williams at Noosa Civic on Wednesday.  I shit you not.  SEVEN FIFTY!  I was in the shop looking for something else (some black hooker-heels that are so now for an entirely different function, if you must know), when the salesgirl handed me these.  How could I not?

So of course an outfit had to be designed around them.  Lucky for me, all the Styling You blogs I’ve been devouring over the last year paid off, and I converted my over-bathers-kaftan-thingy into a dress by adding a white slip underneath, and a necklace.  Genius.  And very “Newsa” if I do say so myself.

Luckily, this also happened:

Shoes that fold out from that little pouch. GOLD.

I had the sense to take these babies with me, because: foot agony, when some zealous chick took the lyric to Jump Around literally and jumped on my foot.  And yes, it was a house of pain (See what I did there?).

Can you see the bruising?  I can, but maybe I’m a bit of a hypochondriac sensitive.

Huge Bruise

Surprisingly, I had a really good time.  I found out who the naughty mummies are, and had fun on the dance floor, despite the music, my attire (a kaftan is not your friend on the dance-floor, at least not with my kind of moves), the relative youth of the other things on the dance-floor, and yes, despite myself.

The Aftermath:

It may of transpired that one of our number made friends with a group of young Hens (chicks really- they looked all of eighteen), and that Mum may have executed some pretty funky moves with the Hens.  As a reward for her efforts, she may have then presented me with Exhibit A (pictured below) that was gifted to her.  I may have performed a lewd gesture upon the gift, and then placed it, erect, in a stubby on the dance-floor (which was fast becoming a strip joint) for another mummy to perform and even more agile move upon it.

Eventually, this cute little thing was bestowed upon me, and I popped it in my handbag.

Because you never know when a penis straw may come in handy.

I can tell you when it won’t come in handy though.  It won’t come in handy when you are at the school drop-off and your seven year old reaches into your handbag, like a magician into a hat, and pulls out that straw, holds it aloft and yells, “What’s this for Mummy?”.

With the principal’s wife standing right next to you.  The principal’s wife who is lovely and charming and nice, but who wasn’t one of the Mums dancing to ‘Push It’ at 11pm.

Or fellating a straw.

So don’t be surprised if neither of our kids get to be prefects.

“That chick could suck a Sherrin through a straw”, was the cry

How about you, had any girls’ nights out lately?  Or penis straw action?

…From The Ashers

***This is not a sponsored post- either for Willams or my chiropractor Rosemary, but I’m happy to get free stuff from either of you..***