Race Day

"What are you doing?" says Ugly Gutz (brother)

"Talking to you, I just got out of bed" (Saturday 11.30am) The Perfect One (ME!)

"Townsville Cup's on today, want to come & get pissed?"

How could I refuse an invitation like that? From family too, there's togetherness for you.

What I don't understand is why we go to such an effort to look so purdy to get super pissed & covered in mud. We have lots of fun doing it but I'm really starting to think I need to start a trend & wear gum boots & jeans with a flannalette shirt. Might not pick up looking like that. Or pick up the wrong sort!

I even went to the effort of straitening my hair, which is an HUGE as it is naturally curly with about 10 cowlicks running through it. I usually get handfuls of mouse & rub it in & my hair's done for the day.

I must admit I do like seeing all the blokes making an effort. It's not very often you see a man wearing a suit in the tropics!

I even saw a bright orange one with a hot pink tie. Ugly Gutz commented on how I should make a play for him as I was wearing an orange halter neck number I picked up from a fancy boutique for only $15 on the sale rack outside and the shoes cost me $10. Quite funny when you consider it cost $25 to get in. Anyway, the attending family members thought we were a perfect match.

I told them all I was wearing it for them so they could see where I was at all times. A bit like a beacon. That was the nicest comment I got back from them. Bloody family.

It's been awhile since I've gone to the races and unless you're a horsy person there's only 2 days you go to Townsville races, Amateurs Day and Townsville Cup. We couldn't get a taxi, they stopped answering calls (don't you just love taxi companies in small towns?) so 6 adults (of generous proportions) squeezed themselves into a Toyota Corolla hatchback. Hmmm, how old are we?

We then had to drive through the centre of town displaying our cunning on how to fill little cars, past police directing traffic (everyone duck! Where?! You're bum's in my way!! That's my boob, leave it attached!!!! etc) and then park the people mover. I actually think watching us fall out of the thing would have been hilarious. I'm quite good at falling out of cars, but I'll keep that one for another day.

We then had to wait in line for 20 minutes (with no roadies, we didn't think to take an esky for the line) to buy a $25 ticket to get in. Once inside it took about 5 minutes to locate the (Bundy) rum tent & get into another line (for another 20 minutes). With a maximum of four drinks per person, we soon all had the supplies & ventured forth to find a piece of grass, knowing that there was no way we'd be getting a table at this point. We get a bit spoilt up here, we're really not used to lines and waiting for things to happen. Unless it's European car parts, they take a minimum of 8 weeks.

So, after spilling most of our vodka's over our purdy dresses and suits, coating the diamante laden shoes with mud & muck and repining the fascinator so many times your head feels like pin cushion, we finally found some large pieces of cardboard next to some people we vaguely knew (they came from the same mining town we'd lived in 20 years previously, but hey, everyone's your bestest ever friend at the races, don't you know?)

After that the afternoon got a bit messy and hazy, after all, we were sitting in the sun, drinking (started cold, ended up warm) vodka, smoking cigarette's one after the other (why do I do that when I'm drunk?) and solving all the world's problems talking crap.

I was home by 8.30pm, sitting on the lounge pontificating to the teenager about all sorts of stuff. I'm not really sure what, I was hoping she was doing her usual and just ignoring me. The welfare services haven't called yet, so she hasn't rung anyone to complain about her drunken mother, or her rantings.

But the Amateurs Day is on in another 2 months, maybe I should try tarting up the gumboots now, what do you think?