Picnic, brunch and barbeque (update)

Did the picnic yesterday. It was tough but I eventually managed to find the giraffe swing (which looked more like a weird stick insect than a giraffe). I realised that I get quite anxious meeting up with people for picnics in popular public places. The problem is that I hate walking up to groups of people for fear that I have to make a 'subtle' retreat if they turn out not to be the people I'm suppose to be hanging out with. Worse still, is the possibility that I may join a group, start to pig out and then realise I'm hanging out with the wrong crowd. Not really a problem on this ocassion. Apart from our group, there was only two other groups near the swings...one was a big wedding party and the other was a bunch of school kids dressed in their bright red uniforms.

Went to brunch this morning. Of course, I didn't think to factor in possible construction work in the CBD disrupting the tram but, as usual, I'm still the first one at the restaurant (even though I was late). Ended up walking to the cafe from St Vincent's plaza. It was a pleasant stroll. Brunswick Street is so empty at 10ish on a Sunday. Even the beggars were asleep. Decided to be a bit 'out there' and refrained from ordering the biggest brekky on the menu. Went for the 'walnut and apricot toast' instead with the 'maple hazlenut butter' option. It was delicious but not quite sure if it was worth paying seven bucks for two pieces of toast. Thought about pinching the beautiful piece of wood that the toast was served on but, alas, i left my bag at home. Didn't really get a chance to ask Dave about the new girl he was allegedly seeing nor did it feel entirely appropriate to ask if the girl that came along was actually her or not. Instead, Louise and I spent the 40 min walk back to the city trying to speculate. On our way, I saw two things that seemed noteworthy. First, was a gay couple dressed in their polo shirts, walking along Swanston Street holding hands. Very sweet (the holding hands part; not the matching polos). Second was the elderly tranny who crossed the road with us near Collins Street. She was dressed in a conservative cardigan and matching scarf with black high heels. Why is it that some men walk more gracefully in high heels than some women?

OK...off to the BBQ in Aspendale now. Hope the weather holds up.