Oh its been a weird old week.
It started with cucumber snow at work dinner on Tuesday, finally going to marching band rehearsals on Wednesday to be greeted by surprised looks on the faces of people who thought I’d died or quit. Thursday was spent at Koko where Nathan from Twisted Charm looked like he had a perm and we left early, thankfully missing the ever boring Cribs.
Friday was the start of a very messy weekend. Plans to get to Fabric in time to see Test-icicles were scuppered by transport problems, leaving us to walk in half way through White Rose Movement. I was very upset and only the lasers could help me. My word, they were pretty. Jack drank champagne, with half a bottle of whiskey in me, I tried to avoid any more booze. We walked around for ages, made fun of the chavs and tried to walk home. Somehow ending up in Old St. That was not meant to happen. I think we may have talked too loudly about the prospect of being raped in an unlicensed cab whilst still being inside said unlicensed cab.
On three hours sleep Saturday was a chore. I played Su Doku, napped and ate the food that mr Swish made me.
Sunday promised the Tin Pan Alley festival in Denmark St. I started drinking too early, white wine only an hour and a half after waking is not clever. It was a nice day though, met loads of lovely people, including meeting back up with one of my favourite Chichester men ever. I forgot how much I love him.
Metro Riots went ‘Mau’, Art Brut went ‘Wooohh’ and we ended up in Subway, refusing to see The Subways. They call their staff ‘sandwich artists’. After being chatted up by a man in a pizza shop we pegged it over to the Artrocker aftershow. Having plus 3 guestlist made me feel like Mariah Carey.
I didn’t see Why Lout. I did see Comanechi, who didn’t play Favourite Shoes or Hole. I still had on my big Ascot hat and was playing the glam drunk. I only remembered about an hour ago that I agreed to be in Eddie’s all girl band with Paula and matching outfits. I am scared.
After turning up to work still drunk and very tired for the second Monday running I have decided to cut down on my drinking. There is no need for me to be getting this hammered so often. It can’t be good for me. I don’t even want to know how many units half a bottle of whiskey is, but I know its too much to be a justified pre-club drink. So for the next week, until my birthday in 8 days time, I shall not drink.