Last night, I was hanging with Tim and Nicholas' cousin Caroline - 5 children, 3 father's, baby bonus' for all, thank you John Howard - we'd been off to see Tim and Nicholas' new house, same street, 400 and something rather than 100 and something. Caroline never stopped talking, I mean never; the twins, her operation, the car accident, never having stayed in one house for twelve months, how she didn't drink, hick, her eyes were glassy, how her father gave her her first shot of speed (I mean syringe) when she was fourteen (so it's not just the accident)... it's a good thing I like her, heart of gold, otherwise you'd just want to suffocate her with a pillow, let me tell you.
We drank wine, in the empty house, admired all the rooms, opened all the windows and doors, sussed out the spot for the dope plant and generally felt sorry for the neighbours when we realised how close they were, what with Tim's penchant for loud, bubble gum pop. Nicholas cracked the shits because the lease said "no pets." They couldn't get him to understand that was a standard lease clause, because their current lease doesn't have it. He'd decided he didn't want to move, he'd cracked the sads, "it's just another fucken house, what's all the excitement," and had gone to bed.
I was off the the Laird to meet up with my ex-boyfriend, so naturally, I didn't get there until late. I drove, which I'd never, never normally do, but I was leaving later than I had intended. My ex, Lauri, had a whole bunch of friends there, he was so pleased to see me, bear-hugs all round. He was a bit drunk and started to introduce me as his mate, but then he must have realised and he grabbed me in his arms and kissed me hard and laughed, his beautiful, green eyes sparkled and he said, My ex-boyfriend, this man is my ex-boyfriend. It was nice, sweet.
We'd both given up smoking, so naturally we both smoked all night.
Lauri kept filling my empty glass, with half of whatever schooner, whoever had just bought him. I drank slowly, but probably ended up having three schooners (collectively) in two, or so, hours and Tim had filled my wine glass several times in as many hours, before I got to the pub, so I wondered if I was over the limit when I drove home. I decided to go when I started to flirt with one of Lozza's mates and he started to flirt back. I don't know, I never think it is a good look to start hitting on friends, or ex-boyfriends, mates. How Scott filled those shorts, though, nice smile, interested eyes...
I don't think I've ever driven over the limit in my entire life, as I just don't drive, normally, if I go out drinking. I could have been, maybe? Oh who cares, I thought, when I was parked safely in my back yard. It's good to live a little, we're all "safeing" ourselves into paralysis, these days.
I've got a bit of a headache today, though, which is a sure sign of imbibing too much...
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