A Vodka Fridge…

… literally.

So this weekend I went to a house party where they had replaced the water in their fridge’s water dispenser, with vodka. So this morning Chris and I woke up feeling inevitably a wee bit, ahem, worse for wear is probably how I would describe it. So I thought I’d write a blog about my Hangover Coping and Combating Procedures (somewhat laughed at by certain family members), again whilst watching Strictly and painting my nails (this really is turning into a lovely Sunday tradition!).

HCCP – by Milly Slightly (very) Queasy Cooper

  1. First comes the wake up/hideous realisation.
  2. Secondly comes the opening of curtains and window (one must have fresh air under these circumstances. Has anyone ever had a hangover after sleeping in a tent? No. Well, may be a few times but that’s what will happen if you partake in St Germain Slap cocktails), and stumbling to the kitchen to fill a glass with ice cubes and fill the rest of the space with water. Also, to have a probably around 42.3% proof wee wee. Back to bed.
  3. Groaning, much groaning.
  4. Then I reach the “what have I become!?” stage of my hangover. My sister knows this stage well and will often have to persuade me that I’m not a bad person for getting off my tits (if you will pardon the expression) on various spirits and wines  and probably doing something(s) embarrassing the night before.
  5. I then turn to Youtube to find Agatha Christie adaptations to watch on my iPad.
  6. Chris and I argue about who gets the tea (peppermint tea – it’s very good for settling the tummy).
  7. Chris loses.
  8. After the appropriate passing of time, tea, fresh air and Marple, I approach what I have termed (and will probably copywrite) ‘The Sit Down Shower’. Basically what it says on the tin. A time of quiet and moist reflection. Also a time for teeth brushing; brushing one’s teeth in the shower is a hugely refreshing experience, also, when faced with the somewhat nauseating consequences of excessive alcohol consumption, teeth brushing can prove a little ‘heavey’. Therefore should any ‘messiness’ happen it can be easily washed away or washed off one’s sorry carcass because you are sitting in a bath, under a shower. This obviously all has to be done from a sitting position as vertical is not yet a viable option of being. That skill will hopefully return in time.
  9. A big glass of milk and a Pot Noodle (don’t tell Mama G)!
  10. More groaning.
  11. More Marple.
  12. Now commences the cleaning away of bedside debris; discarded clothes, many empty glasses, makeup removing products, the box the cheesy chips came in (Chris went to get these after we got home last night, there are some fantastic reasons for marrying this man).
  13. In atonement for living such a loose lifestyle the night before, I now commence the cleaning of my flat; the washing of clothes, ironing, dishwashing, in the hope that all these things may cleanse my soul as well as my abode.

I therefore finish the weekend, feeling very clean, just a wee bit precious of tummy and head, and only marginally guilty (I find hiding any Pot Noodle evidence also helps in this endeavour) whilst reminiscing with Chris about all the funny things that happened the night before – Bonne Weekend!

green halloween nails

P.S. Thought I’d show you how my nails look at the end of this blog – green! Ready for the celebration of the dead coming back to this earth to wreak their ghoulish revenge and boost supermarket takings through the producing and selling of cheap and nasty costumes, or as we in the western world term it: Halloween, of which I am a bit of a fan. However, I will look very unfavourably on any Trick or Treaters who come on Wednesday to knock on my door, as one of the very final Poirots in airing, so I will be very angry of any disturbances between 8-10pm.

Reviews of Poirot to follow…

“She’s very self assured isn’t she?”…

… “No, she’s an absolute mess.” (I was not party to this conversation)

This week I was given two compliments by two very lovely people (at the two black-tie events I attended, ahoheho), and those two compliments said essentially the same thing: “I loved your blog, don’t stop writing”.  So here I am! Writing (in a onesie and painting my nails at the same time… and watching Strictly Come Dancing – it’s a winter tradition)!

The reason I had stopped was purely unintentional, I was going through the emotional and physical assault that is the first three months of a new job. I’ve now been at said job for nearing on four months and my senses are just starting to return to me, I can now laugh again, feel the warmth of the sun on my face and hold a non work related conversation, instead of just coming home from work and staring at the TV with a face like a mentally challenged mongoose, grunting in a way that my FIANCE quickly learned meant “more wine… now”.

A Bush in Paris
Two Bushels together forever!

Yes, Fiance! I am now an engaged lady! Planning a wedding is turning out to be a distracting and stressful experience, but not half as distracting as trying to type and not look at my engagement ring. You’d think that in the four months I spent knowing that Chris had a diamond ring in his ‘man bag’, getting it out when he was sleeping or at basketball and trying it on (he knew none of this) would have prepared me for owning such a beautiful piece of jewellery, but it didn’t. I was lucky enough to go to London for a marketing conference recently (…lucky), upon entering the room I decided to make my way to the first table and take a seat at the very front. I was greeted by the speaker with a “Oh right at the front I see, I love a keen marketer.” I nodded and smiled, thinking it unwise to tell him that I had only sat there because that was where the lighting was the best, and therefore where my diamonds would better sparkle. I then spent an hour and a half looking at them, when I really should have been learning how to manipulate people’s emotions via social media.

My engagement ring
Tweed and bling – what could be better?

When I looked down at my notes at the end of the conference I found these bullet points:

  • Buy yourself some Lady Grey tea, you deserve it, and some new tights, because the ones you’re wearing look really cheap.
  • The man sitting opposite me looks like droopy the dog wearing a ginger toupee.

This was the same conference in which I opened my smart overnight bag (I borrowed it from my mum) in order to get my lap top out and a small bouquet of panty-liners gently poofed out of it, like an elegant explosion of female hygiene. This embarrassment added to my already, slightly sweaty demeanour; I had that morning realised that the only top I’d packed had a big burn mark from my iron on the back of it, so I was not at liberty to remove my blazer, even in the flushes of mortification.

All of this aside, I am very much enjoying being a member of the working forces again, I feel very fortunate to be a graduate with a job, because a higher education seems to work against gaining employment these days. I am also highly enjoying engagement (more on this later – don’t worry I won’t be one of  ‘those’ brides; if I ever say the words “princess dress” you have my permission to troll me on all forms of electronic communication) so all in all I’m feeling pretty good.

Happy engagement photo

I’m back! Stay tuned (I know I’ve sad that before, but I mean it this time)…

P.S. That 5:2 diet didn’t work; I live too close to the world’s finest fish n’ chip shop. I’ve taken up slow and sporadic jogging instead.