Well I've got a smidgeon of grief for not writing up this weekend properly, so......

Friday afternoon was the xmas do somewhere in the middle of nowhere 45 minutes south of Oxford. I got there just in time to find myself seated next to the lovely Frances who's just about the funnest person here (even though she's getting married soon). So we had a laugh launching party poppers at the lovely Clare for the duration of the meal and playing silly games with the consultants *rolls eyes*
Come 4pm, and I needed to head into London to catch up with S before some gig we were going to and ended up giving both Frances and Clare a lift back with me, with a very drunken Clare alternately directing me to where we were going and tearfully informing us that she hated her boyfriend but didn't want to be alone in life.

After mis-directing Frances to the tube station (oops), S and I hit the pub early and were eventually joined by another seffrican, a frenchman and the only other english person I met all weekend (who liked showing people a picture of himself in a rubber dress). We tubed it to Brixton where we met the rest of the Anzac Women's Brigade, plus another seffrican.

The gig itself was okay for someone I'd never heard of before and I managed to get a few beers in along the way. We then decided to head to a club. Here we are walking along:

From left to right: Kiwi, seffrican, seffrican, seffrican, englishman, kiwi, kiwi.

And no, I'm not in that pic because I'm not stupid. :)

This pic was the last thing I remember. I woke up the next morning in a brief 'where am I!?!' panic and slept between receiving texts until about 2:30pm when I got up to find no-one else in the house (they'd all gone elsewhere to continue the party after making sure I was in bed) and some lunatic ringing the doorbell downstairs. Ignoring the lunatic completely (it wasn't my house so wasn't going to let some stranger in) I got ready and headed out, only to find S in a horrendous state leaning on the front door. It turns out that partying until 3pm the next day makes a seffrican accent sound english so I was ignoring him. He'd only been there about half an hour. Oh well!

I headed into the centre (absolutely hanging) to meet Charbs and Welshy, had a few pints then got back to find S in an even worse state. Reasoning that beer can wake the dead I dragged him to the pub with kiwigirl1 (one of the people in the photo above and recipient of drunken texts - sorry!) and we then unfortunately ended up with several cans of lager in the original house watching 'The Punisher' (truly an awful film) before going to another house until 5am when the beer ran out.

Sunday was a slow start before going for a fry-up with S and kiwigirl1 before watching some Ant & Dec film (that noise you can hear is the bottom of the barrel), and driving back to Bristol.

I was very ill yesterday and still feel shite. Might just make it to the pub for Liverpool v Arsenal tonight though! :)