THE BIG ONE: PART 2 – PARISIAN PYJAMA PARTY

Hey Kids,

Well, I did it! I crossed the threshold of 40 and somehow managed not to have a complete nervous breakdown. In fact, I ended up having a most wonderful day, doing the things I love –mainly pampering myself and lapping up any hint of attention being thrown in my direction.

The day started well enough, with a champagne breakfast, complete with French Toast and a side of white chocolate Oreos, while I perused social media and bathed in the waves of virtual love from all around the world. Even though my husband was asleep – the poor man so needs his rest after a long working week – I can proudly say that I wasn’t drinking alone; my cats were in attendance…that counts right?  Speaking of shameless drinking, I made a somewhat heavy-duty Planter Punch for the party that was nearly strong enough to strip the colour right off of my sparkly-blue nails. Unsurprisingly, it did prove quite popular, with many a guest partaking of the dangerously alcoholic, golden liquid.

Death by Chocolate!

It’s hardly a secret that I have something of a sweet tooth – and a savoury tooth and a…well I’m just hopeless when it comes to things that feel good in my mouth. That being said, the sugary stuff usually proves to be my downfall. How is it that I can have all manner of illicit substances in the house and never be tempted? Yet a packet of white chocolate Oreos will barely make it through the door before being devoured in a display of gluttony that would make even the most decadent of Roman Emperors blanche.

Normally, I simply don’t buy such tempting treats and save myself the inner struggle and inevitable avalanche of guilt I tend to feel after having eaten the entire block of chocolate and tub of caramel ice cream. When one likes to entertain as we do, however, there does tend to be left an excess of fiendishly scrumptious leftovers – my husband always insists on catering for double the amount of expected guests. It doesn’t help matters that said husband is a phenomenal cook, whose creations I am unable to refuse. Honestly, they are good enough to warrant selling your grandmother for just a little taste. Don’t even get me started on the birthday cake he made for me last year – chocolate Speculoos cheesecake with chunks on brownies thrown in for good measure.

A Coffee By Any Other Name…

I’m a changed man I tell you.  After many years of resistance I have finally succumbed to the heady allure of coffee.  Admittedly I had long been opposed to indulging in said beverage due to its bitterness – my fondness for sweetness being well renowned. Fortunately, as is the case with red wine, I have managed to acclimatise myself to the taste, albeit with a generous helping of milk and sugar. Added to the coffee rather than the wine you understand, although given my past experimentation with flavours I wouldn’t put anything past me.

My coffee revelation came about as I was searching for a hot beverage I could substitute in occasionally for a nice pot of fortifying tea, but that would still give my brain a spark. So I decided to start trialling various caffeinated combination – regular lattés with an obscene amount of sugar and so on. During my quest I came across not one but two likely contenders for my tastebuds’ approval. The first being an existing brew, a Dirty Chai – chai latté with a shot of espresso – and the second a concoction of my very own invention – the Speculatté™!

The Gaily Grind…

Hey Campers,

Well it’s taken nearly a month but I’ve finally gotten back into the sling – sorry swing – of things in gay Paris. Admittedly I still find myself longingly thinking of the beach and dreaming of prancing about wearing t-shirts and shorts but I have realised that part of my life is over…for a few more months at any rate.

I’m happily back into regular sessions at the gym and the dance studio, despite my kitties fairly insistent pleas that I stay in bed with them. I’m even managing to resist the daily urge to make myself Speculoos pancakes – no easy feat I tell you. It was a relief to see that I had lost none of my tap dancing prowess during my time away, although truth be told I may have had some slight heart palpitations after my first Dance Hall/Street Jazz double combo.