I won’t write much because I’m still trying to recover from my hangover and looking at the screen doesn’t really make me feel too good. But I thought it was only fair to write and let you know that I seem to have been quite hasty in assuming that my drinking days were over and that I had grown up and become sensible and all that stuff (Monday, October 03, 2005). As it turns out, if let loose in a party, I can still drink half a bottle of vodka plus any other alcoholic liquor that is put in my hand when my glass is empty. Only now I can do all that in heels which I think is very impressive. Anyway the party was great and I wasn’t too bad actually and got back home safe and sound and I can remember everything that happened and none of it is embarrassing which is very good.
I’m going to love you and leave you now but I’m just going to post this little thing on here as well before I go. This is something that I wrote some months ago after a wedding I had gone to. I’m really proud of this piece as I wrote it just after I woke up the next day with one of the worst hangovers of my life (and if I remember correctly I was sick soon after I had written it ;-) just a little fun side-note that I thought you might appreciate). If this doesn’t show how committed I am to writing, frankly I don’t know what does.


My head feels like it’s about to explode. Open my eyes, very slowly. Can see light coming through the curtains. Try focusing on the clock. This is almost impossible to do with two eyes so I put my hand over one eye, 8:25 am. All this reading proves too much for the right eyeball. Now it starts hurting. Had never felt my eyeball so vividly in my skull before. Must go back to sleep but I also really need to pee. Luckily the bathroom is about five steps away from the bed. Sit up. Everything starts spinning. O, bad move. Really need to lie down again. But No, first I need to go to the toilet.
I leave the lights off and sit down; chin on knees, looking down at my toes. Ten, good, they’re all there. My left shoulder feels painful. I rub it with my fingers and a sharp pain goes all down my arm. I get a sudden fuzzy image of myself, trying to come out of the toilets and whacking my shoulder against the side of the door. O not now please. I don’t want to remember now. I just want to go back to bed and sleep off my hangover. But the floodgates have opened now and in come the flashbacks; my cousin and I on the dance floor, doing a very silly dance, me tripping over the front of my dress and crashing into some poor guy who goes flying into a table. O god. Now my heart starts racing very fast and I’m wide awake. Please no, no more remembering. I have the rest of my life to remember stuff from last night and get embarrassed about them. But I have no control over my thoughts. It’s as if my brain is taking revenge.
Hundreds of virtual snapshots from the night before come rushing in; a glass of Champaign, my plate of food piled up with ham, green salad, Coleslaw (this image has a sound file attached to it. The chef, ‘White coleslaw’ My friend whispering in my ear, ‘Posh Coleslaw’ We both giggling hysterically and moving on down the table) Roasted vegetables, more Champaign, eating and complaining to my cousin about my uncle calling me out of the blue a few hours before and asking ‘what’s new?’ and then getting angry when I said nothing. ‘So NOTHING is new?’ I’d repeated what he’d said in the same tone. My cousin, ‘That’s weird.’ Speeches. More Champaign and then white wine. Things going blurry.
O no please, I don’t want to remember all this now. I try distracting my brain with other thoughts. Alice in Wonderland. Why? I have no idea. It’s just the first thing that pops into my head. I’m Alice running after the white rabbit. Good, it’s actually working. Another flashback; hearing my own drunken voice going on and on at the best man about how great his speech was. No, I’m not listening, just focus on the rabbit. Yes that’s better running through the forest, jumping into the rabbit hole and sliding down. It’s dark. I can see shadowy faces. They look familiar. Most are wearing the same expression; the one we all have on when a drunken person corners us and goes on and on about stuff we can’t make any sense of.
Well I give up. I don’t seem to be able to stop this flood of disturbing information. So bring it on then brain. Let’s see what you’ve got. More images and sounds; a lot of shouting (that explains the soar throat) in people’s ears or trying to sing along with the songs. Stepping on someone’s toe with my high heels, ouch. A lot of, ‘Have I ever told you this man…’s and ‘…I think you’re great.’s. Flashes going off. O no I’d forgotten about the photos. I have that to look forward to as well now. Pictures of me with eyes half shut, body tilted to one side, talking at my various victims whilst pointing at them with my unusually long fingers. Finally, the lights are being turned off and the groom’s father is herding the confused drunks out of the building.
Shoulder still hurts, eyeball is trying to pop out, head is about to explode. Must be sick now.
Never again.