I don't know if I blogged about it when over a month ago I made a royal fuck-up of a date night I had planned for Fabian and I?
Basically, sometime in July I bought tickets to see Dylan Moran and then made this big fuss of making a surprise date for Fabian where I reserved this nice restaurant and while we were there I presented him with tickets to Dylan Moran.
As he was inspecting the tickets, I snatched them out of his hands and yelled 'STOP LOOKING AT THE PRICE!' Which he wasn't, but i'm unhinged - so anyway, after dinner I drive us to the Palais Theatre.
Fabian: It looks pretty dark Nani...are you sure it's on tonight?
Me: Yes, silly. Of course. See *points to big promotional poster stuck to a totally dark theatre* it says it right there. Saturday 10th September.
Fabian: It's not September. Or the 10th.
Apparently, this is why I should let Fabian check the tickets before snatching them out of his hands and shouting.
Then we drove home and it was all going to be okay because we got to have TWO nice date nights, right?
WRONG.
Today my sister calls me and asks me if I wanted to go see Allan Ball do an interview. To which I responded *'Sure! Why not? What else could I possibly have to do on this lovely evening of September the 10th? Nothing! Nothing at all! It's not like I have tickets to something hilarious, I'll be there!'
Allan Ball, by the way, wrote American Beauty, 6 feet under and True Blood.
It was really good, he's funny, kind of inspiring, it was all going well until I got a horrible feeling in my stomach and it dawned on me that knowing my luck, today was the 10th.
It is.
The upside to today (other than the fact that I got to see an awesome talk instead of awesome comedy? FML indeed)? I just got to Fabians and checked my facebook and there is a comment from my friend Nik telling me he has access to POST GRAD rooms at Monash (which I can only assume is an invite) AND he posted me the trailor to The Machine Gun Preacher because he knows I slide off of my chair at most things Gerard Butler related.
Oh, I can't even believe how gross that last sentence was but ...deal with it people.
Anyway, thanks to Nik for making up for the fact that my boyfriend won't let me in his honours room and a massive thank you to my sister for thinking of me and taking me to a great talk and for pointing out the very true fact that at least I was at Allan Ball and not sitting on my thumb at home.
A saying which, by the way, I initially mistook to mean some weird form of masturbation and it made me reassess the view I thought my sister had of me, until she explained it means 'doing nothing'.
Ah.
I just found the Dylan Moran Yeah Yeah DVD for $20, that's the show he's doing tonight. It's not out until November, but I am going to get it and that is going to make me feel a lot better.
And the talk really was quite good and had been sold out for ages and I got to go for free because my sister is an important person.
Only VIP's get tiny dog minions they can control with their minds*This may be a dramatic interpretation of what was actually said.
