GIANT FAIL.

So this week end marked the first year anniversary of Natasha's death and I was fine. Totally fine...until Friday night arrived and my night all to myself turned into me skyping Nat's in London and sobbing my tiny heart out. Which is distressing for someone to listen to. Which made me feel worse. aarararaggghhghg. So when Danielle suggested we go and have a quiet dinner just us girls I thought it was probably best.

One should always be suspicious of the term 'quiet night' as it very rarely sticks to that quiet part.

Needless to say we had dinner, which involved minimal tears and loads of laughing and rice wine, mokkoli. Then we moved onto a bar called Happidus, that is not a typo. This is basically a bar when the local foreign population hangs in, so in general I don't like it as it sometimes feels like people trying to forget they are in a foreign place. But it was super fun on Friday night. Too much fun possibly. We met 2 New Zealander's and it was a downward spiral from there. Gin and tonic was my stapel...with Jack Daniels and Tequila shots as the side show.

I was conned into playing pool with the one kiwi (I would insert a name if I knew it) and miraculously got the first solid in! (which is a miracle for anyone who has seen me play pool - Tania can confirm this). It was a short lived miracle, when it was my turn again I managed to miss the white ball about 3 times before someone took the cue away from me, a kind act really. That was when I decided to leave.

So normally I would have taken a taxi home, but I had no cash on me and the ATM's here close at 23:00, such a nightmare! So I couldn't get into a taxi, which meant walking home. It's a 30min walk. Which when the world is spinning annoyingly around you feels like 5 hours. Half way home I was too tired to move any further and in true Rhodent fashion I simply stepped into a row of soft looking bushes at the side of the pavement and slept for a while. Like a true hobo. The best part is that I thought that was just a dream, until I tried to brush my hair and all these leaves and twigs came out. My boots are muddy and my clothes are covered in twigs and leaves. I amaze even myself.

The next part I have no recollection of. All I know is, I woke up at 11:30 in a semi coma like state and stared at the clock - groaned audibly and went back to sleep. Only to bolt up again 10 minutes later in the horrible realisation that Dusty had waited for me in vain 2 hours ago. fuck. I felt terrible so I emailed him straight away saying things like I am so sorry, don't hate me and I think I might be dying. All true. He has forgiven me and we are watching a movie tonight. I am a terrible person.

I spent the day in a special kind of hung over hell. I was sick all day and everything caused me pain. I am never drinking like that again.

Here is a pic of Dusty, so you have a vague idea of what he looks like. And I think that is his real name, you win some you lose some hey.