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< white polka dots and mushroom coloured shoes | posted at 12:02 am on August 17, 2003 > so anyway, i now have no voice. a product of being horendously sick and then going out till 4am in the morning - despite no alcohol being consumed on my part at all, the excessive talking has really done the job well.this bodes well for a) my presentation on tuesday b) work on monday and c) i feel so damn sick i don't want to i) study for my musicianship exam and ii) prepare aforementioned presentation. anyway it was friend's birthday last night. we went out, and i drove into the city, carting everyone with me, citing the fact that i wanted to have an early night as i was sick and have infinite amounts of study to do... yeah, that didn't work. i ended up staying at friend's and getting utterly, utterly sick. nosebleeds and all - and just when i said i hadn't had them for years! but as i was the driver, and had chosen to be, i did not drink a single drop. previously, i might have had perhaps a standard drink every two hours (0.02 for p-platers!), and maybe wait another hour before driving, to ensure maximum safety, but after the accident i just couldn't. it was an interesting role reversal, however, watching other people get so smashed and spending $15 only the entire night (on food, no less), and rolling into bed completely sober. someone said that it was a very interesting feeling doing that after so many drunk nights, and it's only now that i truly and completely understand. it does throw light on some things, though. i still got stupid and talked shit. i do feel that much of my 'drunk' behaviour, attributed to tequila shots and whatnot, is actually a product of merely late nights out. in other words, i just get stupid. the alcohol probably just speeds it up. andy brought some chicks with him from work, one of whom was all over him, but i don't know if it was my imagination but i think he was throwing looks at me. and i thought, 'here we go again...' as is expected the birthday girl was nice and drunk, my ambulance friend was nice and sober with me, i got finally up and annoyed at my racist friend, and my conclusion is that being sober is generally boring. on a final note, i looked at myself before i went out and got my own hypocritical blast again... for god's sake, look at me. i was wearing a strapless light brown top with white polka dots and a white ribbon just below the bust (with a nice bow). cream blazer. cream scarf. nice pair of expensive jeans. light brown pointy flat shoes. little white bag carrying everyone's goods. matching. smart. stylish. and i spent money on those clothes. fucking snob... fucking hypocrite. those last five |