Sunday, 27 February 2011


I have to say that I am rather uninspired for this week’s column. It’s been half term week so the streets of London have been strewn with annoying children and the nightclubs full of just turned 18 year olds getting hammered. I have therefore been rather boring and not done much, neither has the weather motivated me to do much more than sleep. Longest winter EVER! It has got to that time of year when there is nothing really happening. I have totally lost my mojo, I don’t like any of the clothes in the shop, my appetite has gone and worst of all I don’t even feel like drinking any Champagne! It’ll pass, I’ll probably be back on it tomorrow but right this very second I just can’t go on.

So I have decided rather than bore you with my moaning I will take you on another trip down memory lane and tell you about a party that I ended up going to during my time in Brazil. It was a party held for said just turned 18 year olds. As you might imagine it was bloomin’ hilarious...

One of my favourite things in life is juicy gossip. Not the malicious kind where people get hurt but the kind that is just so incredibly juicy and scandalous it makes everything else seem lacklustre (which life does seem to be at the moment with or without gossip). So you can imagine that during my first weeks in Brazil I was denied any gossip as I knew no one, not even the celebs of the telenovelas (Brazilian soaps). But then I had the genius idea to invite myself to a family friend’s son’s girlfriend’s surprise birthday party. It was a guaranteed drama fest.

They were all 17/18 and still wore braces. I decided to position myself in the kitchen as this is usually where everything unfolds. Oh, how right I was....

A few of the girls who were drunk on literally 2 watered down caipirinhas came in crying because one of the boys had made a bet with his mates to pull one of them. As I understood it, the boy had made quite a bit of money. Not to be rude about the fairer sex and indeed my sex but he really was taking one for the team as she was not a looker. Anyway I tried to calm them down in my best portuguese – which I think cheered her up immensely as it was fairly terrible. Whilst I was doing this A MAJOR FATTY entered the room. The fatty was nicknamed 'barriga' which means belly in Brazilian. He told me this with such pride I was so impressed that my initial reaction was to shake his hand but then the giggles got the better of me. Like the girls earlier the watered down caipirinhas had quite an effect on me too. Anyway he told me about the girl he fancied... I like the Brazilian approach to nicknames. I had 2 black friends out there whose names were ‘black out’ and ‘midnight’. Talk about stating the obvious. I suppose my nickname, which my father gave me, also fits under this category.

Then entered public enemy number one who was showing off his winnings after kissing the munter... He was repenting of his ways so I tried to convince him that maybe he should split the cash with the girl - he was having none of it.

I decided that 3 watered down caipirinha was quite enough to allow me to venture out of the kitchen in to the darkened sitting room. Oh my word it made the house parties I had a University look so tame. Everyone was bumping and grinding and for want of a better word sucking face. I felt like a real party pooper when I retired from the party at a respectable 12.30am when one of the girls turned off the funky beats in favour of her opera singing.

It’s time for another safari dinner party maybe that will inspire me a little bit more....

Cordelia Rosa

No comments:

Post a Comment