Yesterday, my last day at work started with a gentleman sheltering me from the rain. The day ended with a gentleman making sure I got home safely. He also refused to let me pay for any of my drinks. And took me to a nice bar [upstairs from Flesh]. And talked to me all night. Which really was a valient effort because, by crikey, I talked some tripe. Thanks Jonathan. Mera came too, she talked too but hardly any of it was tripe. (we ended up eating at my "usual" - sitting by the bus stop outside Kebabs on Queen eating a miniLamb with homus, garlic yogurt (yes, that is what the creamy stain on the front of my skirt is) and sweet chilli sauce) And for all of you, who plied me with drinks all night at the Provedor, lining up cocktail after cocktail [did I mention I don't drink top shelf spirits?] saying that you were going to get me drunk as if you'd never done that before for a third of the price, two pints of beer and a spare hour - that *was* me drunk and if you didn't notice well, I'm amazed. Thanks, everyone, for a really great night. I have really groovy friends and workmates, even if they always bring out the same Michelle Stories over and over again. [Mitch's favourite "butt plug" story and Marshall's "don't get used to it" coffee story] Thanks too for putting up with my uncohesive [incohesive?] speech - I'll sort that out later. Thanks to the bar staff at the Provedor for supplying food and letting us win the bar tabs even though - you know - we weren't even in the draw *shh* thanks Anna. [who considers me a regular to her bar and I'm really chuffed about that although I didn't think I went *that* often] Martini [two olives], Cosmopoliton [one cherry and a slice of lemon], Some Grapey Smurf Juice Thing [a slice of pineapple, a cherry, two straws and a pink umbrella] [flashback: The Purple Provedor] , Sex on the Wharf [some fruit, umbrellas, couple of straws, orange umbrella] Champagne [flute], Beer [bottle, thank god]. Oh my kingdom for a glass of water. And, speaking of umbrellas: I left my *new* one in the bar! *doh*

My umbrella is never where it needs to be. It's either at home, or at the office when I am either at the office, or at home. This morning I woke to the sound of rain on the trees outside my bedroom window. With the realisation that I would be walking to my bus and ferry and work in the rain, also came the knowledge that my umbrella was leaning up against the wall by my desk at work. I can't get my Umbrella Feng Shui right. I spend most of my week carrying it to and from work with the idea it might rain. To finally leaving it at work rather than carry it one more rainless evening home, to wake up the following morning to precipitation. This is a cycle that repeats itself with regularity throughout my year. It wasn't raining more than a dusty drizzle by the time I left the house. A little bit of rain never hurt anybody, so I had no problem standing on the exposed jetty waiting for the ferry. Trouble is, with rain, is that while sometimes it can stop; sometimes, it can fall harder and more often too. I was slowly but surely getting wet. I accepted this as my fate for being out of whack with my feng shui and turn to watch all the smart umbrella'd people walking onto the jetty, smug in their dryness. And then there he was. He stepped very close to me, his large golf umbrella sheltering me from the rain "We can't have you melting away, now, can we?" he said. We stood there in comfortable, dry silence until it was time to board the ferry. I thanked him, and he assured me it had been his pleasure. By the time we got into Auckland, the rain was pouring down. My only hope was to buy another umbrella, which I did, and made it to work in relative dryness. I now have 2 umbrella's - what's the bet that *both* of them are somewhere I am not next time it rains.