Cherry Goes Global

Wednesday, May 31, 2006

Packing, Baking, Dating & Getting My Groove Back.

Saturday night resulted in a fat lip and it's still a bit bruised. Not so sure how it actually happened though...I don't think it's from the gay homosexual I was seen pashing on with for most of the night at the discoteque. Allow me to elaborate, Dear Reader. Fuscia singlet PLUS diamonted motif SCREAMS gaylord to me.

International relations were somewhat enhanced between Australia and America that night when I also met a lovely rugby player, who for the sake of the blog we'll call Paul. Mainly because his name is Paul. Bod to die for! Mmmm... Alas! He leaves for the States on Saturday and I'm off galavanting around this fine country. Maybe Round Two will be on the cards when and if he returns. Only time will tell.

I also have a date tonight with someone called Jeanpaul. I'm really not sure if it's Gaylord In Fuscia or if it's some other random that successfully extracted my number from me. I may take The Wench's (gal pal from Aus) and don a scarf and baggy hat in readiness for a 'walk by' if he turns out to be below par. But I have a bit of a sore throat (no, not from cock in mouth action) so I am thinking of cancelling. I'll see how I feel later on in the day. I'm kind of nervous because not only is it a 'blind-ish date' but because it's going to require parlo'ing Italiano which isn't exactly my forte, if the truth be told.

**Okay I'm writing this just before posting and can't bothered rewriting (the above). Gaylord In Fucsia (if it's him) sms'd to say it was pissing down at his place at about 7pm and to say he'd see how the rain was at 9.30 when we were supposed to meet. I was thrilled and had secretly hoped for a cancellation. Wednesday night is a little too hard core for me. I'm thinking with this guy (again, whomever he may be) I need a Friday night on Via Farini with many a peep around. In case the going gets tough, we both have other peeps to fall back on / escape to. So the story goes that when I actually said 'Another day is cool, but I can't see you for two weeks' he was like 'omg! two weeks but I can see you next week'. I was like 'it's just because i'm galavanting'. Mind you all of these messgaes were in Ital, my responses being of the rather ridiculously broken style. Oh how I try! So then he wrote back 'Okay, well we'll see how the rain goes'. What a surprise that I received a message from him during my class saying he could make it. My student hung around a bit to help me concoct a story to send later. The story is that I didn't finish until 10.30 and perhaps I may be able to meet him next Friday evening because I'm coming back that night to Parma before leaving the following week. Take it or leave it sunshine! I'm bending over backwards to keep your dream alive. Ha! Doubt I'll hear from him again. Sorry pal, but don't leave it until the last minute to say 'game on'. The Cherry ain't having it! He's probably the love of my life. But I guess if he was I'd probably have some faint idea of who he was.....hmmmmm....

Tomorrow morning I'm off to Florence! Hoorah! I have been waiting for this for such a long time and I cannot wait! I'm feeling the need to chill out, let loose and have a merry old time. I think there will be lots of crotch watching at the MotoGP. I can feel it! On Saturday night I got my groove back, so I’m sensing danger down there in Florence! Yeehaa!

** Also written after. SHIT! Why was I not put on this earth to pack fucking light? Please! Someone answer me this. I once went away for three days and took seven pairs of shoes (one pair of slippers and one pair of slides for the pool included. Slides weren't utilised). I have four bags. Don't get excited peeps. Let me explain. One bag, that I'm ashamed to be taking, has 5 pairs of shoes and another I'll be wearing one. A small suitcase carries clothes. Fifty thousand tops to be combined with very limited bottoms are included. Another filled with cosmetics. These happen to be the bain of my existence. I can go away for just one day and the cosmetics will take up more room. And then after that there's the large handbag with the small Burberry hangbag inside. I'm really hoping some well hung, handsome stranger with girth offers to help me with all of my luggage, but if not I'm sure I'll survive. On the way there at least. On the way back I'm not so sure.

Jin, I did bake The Elvis Presley Pound Cake (my mother thought that name was fall down on the floor and chortle until the cows come home funny) and I thank you (my ass doesn't) for the recipe! I think I could have cooked it slightly longer, just for the middle to be done a bit more, but I was afraid that the rest of the cake would go dry. It turned out magnificently! I left it downstairs in Pam and Michele's apartment, sans one piece devoured by moi, with a note saying 'Save The Whale Campaign' with a short blurb begging them to save me from turning into a whale by keeping the cake and eating it. I ate another piece this morning though! Too yummy! I'll be making it again that's for sure! Thanks again EWD partner! BTW I have a pic of it (albeit half because the othe half got eaten prior to consumption) but Blogger and these two computers have been jarring me in the rectal region all day long. 'Half your luck', I hear you all say. 'Without lube?' I retort, 'Not pretty!'

Before I Peace Out to my last note, which is a serious one, may I apologise for not being able to post the three pics I had planned to (that fucking cake is one of the pics included, my ass tripling in size by the second was not!!), but seriously knowing that the gods are really reacihng down with their throbbing members today and giving it to me is more than enough to give me the screaming shits.

For the love of God, keep it fucking real!
It ain't worth not bein' real.

Love you all!
Cher xxx

On a more serious note, a blog friend of mine has passed away. Larry (Farmboy) you will missed by everyone who knew you. Rest In Peace.

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