With a headache from hell I do the obligatory ‘gone back to home to parents for easter’ post.
After Thursday’s debauchery I had vowed not to drink again until easter Sunday, when I could indulge in the pleasures of my dads nice wine collection. Oh, if only I had some discipline. The temptation of a party was too much for me, and the temptation of vodka was apparently strong enough to make me drink tonnes of the stuff.
We danced, people kept calling me Nathan Barley simply because I run a novelty music site (stupid narrow minded non-londonites), we played truth or dare, I spat vodka in someone’s face, only to have beer poured down my top, I argued with ex-boyfriend and got to sleep at 7 this morning. I feel slightly less than chirpy now. The immanency of the family/friends easter dinner is starting to dawn on me. I’m a little worried that if I keep up this level of alcohol injection into my body I may never live past 40.
I need to spend more days like Friday, when I stayed in, tidied and mr swish and I played monopoly instead of going out. I thrashed him by the way. I wanted to go to the Ciccone gig over in Brixton but never made it, didn’t even make it to the Long Blondes gig and that was only 10 doors away from my house.
Too much alcohol and too much laziness is not a good combination. I’m going to go running in the morning. In my cowboy boots as I didn’t bring any trainers home.