Thursday, January 01, 2004

What a lovely day. It's a perfect "Adelaide" day - temperature in the 30s, air clean and dry, sky a vastness of pristine blue. As I look out the window mid-afternoon, there are but one or two cars in the city streets - double the number to be seen this morning when the city was in somnulent stillness - apart from the occasional stumbling merriment of young people perchance on the way home from the "recovery' parties after the big night.
A nice night it was, too. With Peter I cruised into the city and perused the Lord Mayor's NY Eve street party - the main drag a scene of tables and chairs and food stands, families strolling and eating or watching the live entertainment. Very busy but very laid-back.
We were en route to Stormy's, paying an early visit to her NY Eve party. Stormy is the city's famous brothel madam and a thoroughly good spirit. She lives in a luxurious penthouse over the shop, so to speak. We took the lift from the mirrored corridor and found ourselves in the brothel reception area. Stormy had not yet set the lift to go up to her private quarters. Very plush and fastidious is the brothel - reflective of Stormy's Dutch background, perhaps. We had a soft drink and jolly conversations with Stormy and her new husband, plus a few early guests before heading off to the official party of the night, hosted by the city's most legendary drag queen, Roger aka Rouge. He was not in drag and nor were the others. It was a relaxed social event for friends of all ilks - and a gregarious and easy-going lot they were. Show tunes playing, the odd person getting up and dancing a stunning routine before sitting down and picking up the drink again. Food flowing from all directions, an accomplished young chef in the kitchen cooking up an endless storm of elegant fare. His cakes table was groaning with elegant indulgences. No empty tummies at this party. Quite the opposite. We were presented with a plate piled high with cakes and tarts when we announced we had to leave before midnight and, thus furnished, we arrived at my mother's to have our micro NY Eve party - just the three of us. I poured us Quandong fortified wine on ice and set out anchovy stuffed olives, fresh pretzels and sweet potato crisps and we settled in to watch the Sydney Harbour Bridge fireworks on TV and toast each other for the new year. Sam, DJing a NY Eve party at the city club, managed to phone a minute after the mignight chime. He never forgets his dependent grandmother, not for a minute.
I chatted on for an hour or so and then drifted off to bed, ready to begin the new year at work.

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