Watching Dugong and Poetry at Film Victoria.
March15
The room was noisy and a chicken coup. People mingled, glasses in hand, smiley, interested heads bobbing. My husband Chris and I hugged our chairs in a quiet, rather solitary space outside of the hub-bub. A waitress came around with canapes. It sounds like canned apes, but no, in fact its little hors d’oeuvres – kind of said, ‘horses doovers’ – consisting of mini pastry things with artistically stuffed contents, and pretty much all but one shaslik containing dairy and or gluten. No snackos for me then. Read the rest of this entry »
