Due to popular requests (from two of the three people who read this blog) I shall continue my utterly self gratifying list of events that have shaped Amy.
39. In high school I went to a party that involved fast cars, suicide attempts and alcohol. This was my first introduction to drinking and as such I mixed Kahlua and milk with passion pop. For some reason this resulted in a group of us standing around a small bush projectile vomiting in to it. I didn’t drink for a very long time after that.
38. Actually, after that I was an incredibly anal teetotaler who couldn’t even stand the thought of putting red wine in to italian cooking. I would lecture my friends and generally be rather annoying. I thought that I would get addicted to it. Going to England cured me of this insanity.
37. EXCEPT for the New Years Eve that Leif and I spent an afternoon drinking Sangria, then going to the pub wasted, drinking a beer and then having an entire cigarette – never having smoked before. I ran out of the pub, found the nearest tree, vomitted through my hands which meant it ended up down my shirt. Relief was imminent until I realised I had performed the stunt in front of a tonne of people standing outside. I got a cab home, apologising profusely to the driver and met my Aunt and Uncle on their way out for the night. So my new years ended at 8pm watching Clive James singing Auld Lang Syne. The lowest of the low.
36. When I was about 12 my cousin Leif and I were superstars. In Nanna and Grandads backyard. We would mime Go West’s “We close our eyes” and the Police “Russians”. A very interesting combination.
35. For 5 long years I would get up at 5.30 -6.00am on a Saturday to watch Rage on the ABC. I would also tape the show and rewatch it over and over again. It didn’t help my taste in music at that stage though cause I was only watching the top 50. Thus I blame rage for my youthful fixation on Bros, New Kids on the Block and Debbie Gibson. Even if I was reading Rollingstone by then.