<-----swimwear modeling! You must be wondering what one has to do with the other? Ah, well when you have a group of 7 little children, and 3 au pairs, taking said little children to see elephants (along with thousands of other little children) warrants a night out drinking. And the poison of choice last night was tequila. Although I must say- I thank my lucky stars everyday that Benji and Toby are not little monsters. Freddie, my au pair friend from London, has 3 boys that will not stop screaming and hitting each other, and this was in public. I returned home from elephant watching and back to school shopping (yay, SO fun) to a text message from her saying "we need to go out and drink tonite. Alex just smashed Théo over the head with a bicycle pump."
After an amazing dinner of lentil egg curry (although hardboiled eggs aren't the best pregoing out foood...ugh bloat and gas :-P) I left to meet the au pair girls out at a bar. It's amazing though, how terribly complicated "meeting up" can be....I'm learning that you must add an extra 45 minutes onto everything to account for being late, lost or both. But we finally convened on this warehouse bar/concert venue called ''l'usine" (the factory). I met up with the girls I'd gone out with before (an american, 2 canadians, and a london-er), plus Sophie, a 30 yr. old australian, out-of-work actress turned au pair.
We rejoiced in the moderately priced drinks (btwn 4-6 chf vs. 18 at the last bar we went too) and started to "faire la fête"(party). I had a beer and 2 tequila shots. You might think I'd have a pretty decent buzz going, but I haven't been able to get any kind of decent buzz since I've been here (the closest and most fun times have been the nights when Marc and me kept refilling our wine glasses encore quelquefois after dinner.
And I have several theories for why I haven't been able to really enjoy drinking. I am in completely new surroundings, new people, new life. I don't feel completely comfortable, and can't let myself relax enough to feel any effect of alcohol. Or perhaps the fact that I've gained weight over the past year, and no longer have any extra variables effecting how drunk I get.
But the third hypothesis I fear is the most accurate. Last year, due to several different factors, I lost some good friends, maybe my best friend, and strained the relationships between me and my cousin, who are brothers to me. At my bon voyage party, I had an amazing time drinking Oberon, being silly with Bridget, singing with her mom, taking tequila shots with Mel...... And all the while, neither of my cousins even touched a drink. Oh, they had their alibis (a triathalon in a week and the vague 'I'm training' excuse"), but it really hurt my feelings that they still wouldn't raise a glass with me.
Introspection aside, the bar was really fun. Really dirty, and very "swiss punk rock'' (or is that phrase is an oxymoron....). People covered in tattoos, a UV spectrum of colored mohawks, fishnet tights, plaid skirts and knee-high boots abound, our little group of anglophone semi-preps was a smidge out of place. But nonetheless, everyone manages a fun time (especially after a few rounds said cheap drinks). After awhile we moved to another place that had free salsa lessons, but was pretty seedy, and DEFINITElY not the kind of men I'm keen on being around. The MC was this short arab guy, and came over to our table to get everyone to dance. I don't know if I was just the most sober of the group, because everyone else popped up and stumbled enthousiastically to the stage. The creepy short MC took my hand into his sweaty mitts and tried to pull me up, but luckily I think I had a few founds on him. I just kept asserting "non, je peux pas, j'ai pas l'envie de danser (I don't feel like dansing. AT ALL!). Finally he let go (or my hand slipped out of his, lubricated by his nastiness), and I sat back and pretended to look at the drink list, to make myself feel more comfortable.
Watching everyone up there drunkenly salsaing, I realize that some things about me will never change. I'll never be able to take a tequila shot without having supplemental chaser to one measly little lime (even if it's water). I'll never feel comfortable approaching a guy I think is cute...old fashioned, but he MUST talk to me first, or I don't think he's interested. And no matter how many shots of tequila I've had, I could never go up on stage and learn to salsa in a bar, even if the only audience is old women and greasy italian men.
After the bar I got home by tram with relative ease. Prayed Marc wasn't still up b/c I didnt want him to smell smoke and alcohol on me (even though I wasn't drunk I still stunk like bar), and collapsed into bed. This morning was Toby's first day of school, and we all walked him in. He goes to a Jewish school, even though the family doesn't practice. So he has to wear this funny little frock with strings hanging out under his shirt, and a little yamica. He wore his backpack that we bought yesterday (probably bigger than he is), and happily went to his class.
Now I'm hanging out with Benji until my half day off at one, with definite nap in store. Au revoir for now!
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