Horn Island Communal email - My hot night on Horn

Last night, after a very uneventful week, Jacqui and I had decided to have a video night - which also promised to be uneventful.  We hired "Mr Hollunds Opus" and got take-away pizza's from the Wongai Pub. 

Unfortunately, after the movie had finished, Jacqui and I became in extremely silly moods.  We sat outside arguing over books of all things (I know we're so wild!!).  The debate was over Jacqui's reluctance to read anything even slightly literary, and instead read the same four books over and over.  I swear she's read them so many times, she can actually recite them.
Jacqui's aversion to 'all of my books' was getting under my skin.  She told me in no uncertain terms that 'she would rather have a pap smear, a mamogram and a root canal whilst having hot pokers shoved in her eyes, than read one of my books'. 
 Desperate to prove her wrong I begged her to read just one chapter of 'Memoirs of a Geisha', to prove to her that she would like them if she just gave it a chance.  I then promised her that if she read just one chapter, I would eat a whole plate of her hot food.  At this, Jacqui's eyes lit up in an evil way.
 Now for those of you who are unfamiliar with the differences between Jacqui and I (of which there are many), the number one difference is food.  This causes a lot of problems in our otherwise serene household.
I'm a meat and veges girl, anything bland and its great.  Jacqui's a hot girl.  She puts tabasco sauce on everything.  I swear to god I once saw her put some in a bowl of fruit salad and ice-cream that I gave her. 
Jacqui decided that the comic value, of watching me eat a plate full of hot food, would far outweigh the boring duty of having to read a chapter of 'Memoirs of a Geisha'.  Determined to do it Jacqui delightedly skipped into the kitchen to make me Indian rice with 1/2 a bottle of cayenne pepper and 3/4 of a bottle of tabasco sauce.  My protests, "but its 12o'clock at night!", "I'm not hungry!", "I'm on a diet!",  fell on deaf ears.  Jacqui was determined that she was going to cook the rice, and even more determined that I was going to eat it.

As Jacqui maliciously stirred the indian rice, I comforted myself by remembering that this was all for the benefit of my friend.  I could give her a whole new world filled with Geisha's, Saudi Arabian princesses and abused children called David Peltzer (a very good book called 'A child called it').  I was determined to eat the goddam rice no-matter what the cost.   After just having watched "Mr Hollund's Opus"  I think I was feeling like I had to touch her life - change it even.  The teacher in me was brimming with ideas and if eating hot rice was what  it took to make her discover the  world of the Illiad, then by George I was going to do  it. 

 I decided that the best way to tackle a bowl full of hot Indian rice was to skull it, preferably without it touching the insides of my mouth.  As she presented me with the bowl of delicious smelling rice I silently chuckled thinking 'how bad can this be?'.  I started shovelling in spoonfulls of rice with enormous gusto.
 'Not too bad!' I thought.  Two seconds after that thought, the burning started.  I was gulping down the rice, whilst running around the house frantically.  After I had finished 3/4 of the bowl I uncerimoniously smashed it on the floor and made a dash for the fridge. 

Jaqui meanwhile, was on the floor, after having fallen off her chair because she was laughing so much.  Reilly (the dog) was chasing me around barking.    As Jacqui and I don't  drink milk, the only dairy product I could find in our fridge was a 500g tub of low-fat yoghurt, which I'd bought for the diet I went on that never started.  Unfortunately the yoghurt was two weeks past it's used by date.  Nonetheless I started shovelling in the yoghurt faster than I shovelled in the rice.  I didn't stop untill I'd eaten about 400g of curdled yoghurt.

As you can guess, the next thing to happen was the regurgitation.  Fortunately, I had managed to stumble outside for that part.  Hot food going down is bad enough, but coming back up is even worse.  Especially when its mixed with off yoghurt.  Jacqui was still laughing (cruel, cruel woman) and telling me to cheer up because at least I didn't ruin my diet.  Thankfully I managed to clean myself up, have a shower, go to bed - all without killing her. 

She has promised to read a chapter of 'Memoirs of a Geisha' when we go to the beach today.  I somehow don't think my end of the deal will be as comical, with the exception of a crocodile biting her on the arse whilst she reads it (heres to hoping!).

Things on the island are going well.  4 weeks and 6 days until I return to the mainland!!!  I can't wait to see everyone.   

Miss you all!
Love Bianca