Sunday, 29 January 2012
"The only things you should be chasing are your drinks and your dreams."
When things get a bit crappy, I tend to run away to London for a little while, or at least until my head feels a fraction clearer. I spend days catching up with friends, having fun, watching weird films (I seriously wouldn't watch 'The Loved Ones' alone), running around different parts of London and usually, drinking an awful lot of alcohol because that's just what I do. However, this time around, I decided to shake things up a little. Not only should I probably learn to face my problems head on rather than run away from them but it's also a lot cheaper to stay in my little town.
So I did what any normal-ish person does when they need to clear their head and I went and got absolutely obliterated. I grabbed one of my best pals, Tania, took my entire make-up collection to her house and insisted that she work her magic and make this possible:
I'm a big fan of PROPER nights out: pre-drinks, hitting pubs, bars AND clubs, going to an unethical fried chicken/kebab takeaway joint at 4am and eventually befriending the taxi driver who's (un)lucky enough to be taking us home. However, with £7 each a big night out was going to be impossible for Tania and myself. Did that stop us? No way. "Fuck it, we'll walk home, who needs a taxi?"
We hit town, already quite drunk, made a necessary toilet/re-doing make-up stop and then decided to hit as many bars as we could. And that's exactly what we did. We smashed every single place we entered, we spoke to strangers, we drank Snakebites, smoked cigarettes and had a laugh. We bumped into lovely people, completely forgot our social boundaries and were soon discussing oral sex with a complete stranger. Despite having a lot to say on the matter, I don't usually discuss that sort of thing with strangers which made it even better. We were talking absolute bollox, drunk of our faces and had one goal in mind: to have fun.
At the beginning of the night, we made a pact that we'd forget the rules for that night. We'd blow off steam, act inappropriately, quit being sensible, send messages/texts and make calls that we'd regret in the morning and best of all, we wouldn't care. It was exactly what we both needed, a night of being literally so carefree nothing mattered except what we drinking and we weren't fussy. It's safe to say that most of the night is one huge blur for me, but I do remember stealing a Swedish chap's fried chicken and running away. HIGHLIGHT.
Anyway, besides ranting about getting absolutely off my trolley last night (I DO NOT CONDONE THIS BEHAVIOUR!...I do), this blog was supposed to have a point. I've rambled because my hangover is in control of my brain today and I can't stop it. Booooooo.
While I'm slightly regretting the amount of alcohol I consumed last night because my head feels like it's been sat on by a Sumo wrestler, I'm not regretting the night in general. It was perfect and just what I needed.
I kissed people I shouldn't have kissed, I drank drinks I shouldn't have drank and I stumbled home at about 3am, leaving drunken voicemails to my best friends. I feel a lot better, despite the hangover, and I've proved to myself that I don't need to run away to a different county to fix my head up. I just need a good night out.