Bad blogger

I'm really not keeping up to date and I think I've identified the source of my problem - my bed. I always want to relay what I've been doing but the urge to flump around in cotton and goose down is just too strong. My new duvet and pillows are so nice I just can't think of anything I'd rather be doing than luxuriating in them. So I'm typing this from bed. Nice compromise. Being super hungover hasn't helped either. I didn't sleep in my bed for a week cause I was so busy getting drunk and falling asleep on people's sofas.

Last Saturday I went for lunch at Billy's and drank my body weight in alcohol and was treated to some delicious chicken cacciatore. We all went to the pub after and I had to go off to a quiz at Amy France's house that she was holding to raise money for a charity thing she's doing. If I hadn't left the pub I probably would've been unconscious within the hour, however, since I had a long ride on the tube I had time enough to sober up a bit. So I bought some beers, went to the quiz and then the night becomes a bit of a blur. I didn't find out quite how bad my behaviour had been until Monday because I'd left my mobile phone at home, so I spent Sunday in ignorant (albeit SUPER hungover) bliss going round the Art Car Boot Sale in Brick Lane and watching movies. I was so hungover that I'd be groaning for a couple of hours and then get these terrifying waves where I felt like I'd taken too much acid and was about to die. Fun it was not.

Anywho, as a quick example of Saturday night I offer up this lovely little story: the last time I met Stephen's flatmate Julie I was so drunk I called her a fucking bitch for not buying me a drink. Obviously I was joking but since it was the first time we'd met how was she to know? So this time I was determined to make a good impression and was pretty sure it was mission accomplished as one of my only memories of the party was giving Julie a big hug. HOWEVER, I found out on Monday that rather than saying 'hello' to her I grabbed her cardigan out of her hands, blew my nose on it, looked at the label and went 'French Connection? How vile' and threw it on the ground. Seems the overall impression of me at the party though was I'm a bit f a legend, was on amazing form and helped the whole night go with a bang ... even Julie's overall opinion of me was 'lovely'. Still, I'm pretty glad I remember nothing.