We wandered up the road to see the Triplets of Bellville at the Dell last night. The screen size was a little smaller than anticipated (much like the very un-giant cow outside of Hawera), but the sounds was kick-arse, which made up for it a bit.
So we sat on our little rug, amidst the massess of overdressed teenagers, overcatered older people, and the glittering debris of Fairy Trina (thanks Martha). We drank our bottle of wine, and ate our lime and black pepper chips, and rediscovered the joys of French animation all over again. I kept discovering a whole byunch of really clever subtexts , but forgot them all.
In other news, I caught up with Iain from the WTO yesterday. He now lives in Melbourne, poor fellow. We had coffee in front of work, and plotted world domination, much like the old days. It wasn't til very late last night I remembered I shouldn't have long blacks in the late afternoon. Weird dreams about getting blogs and interesting-no-work websites banned on my comuter at work - not just banned, but sought out and exterminated. It was a bit creepy.
And I'm going to the Sevens tonight, to catch up with some people, drink a beer or two, and plot world domination. A very big corporate giant is taking me along, which is very nice of them, but I'm not wearing their free polyester polo shirt (they may buy my company, liver, and mind, but they won't get my body dammit!). Then to the beach tomorrow.