Bleh....

I'm so fucking hungover right now, it's not even funny.

It's ten o'clock at night and I'm still recovering from last night - isn't that dreadful? My brother told me yesterday that I'm too old to be going out and getting wasted, but I completely disagree with him. I love getting pissed. Not on a weekly basis, mind, but being out of my mind is so much fun because usually I'm just sifting through the ridiculous amount of thoughts swirling around in my head at any one time. And being completely out of it eliminates all of that bullshit.

I sound like I have a problem. Shit.

So, yesterday was my first night out in this wonderful city since I've been back, and it was fucking EPIC. Noodles and I did pre-drinks in our usual spot, despite the fading daylight, managing to knock back a nagin of vodka each in less than an hour.

We saw two typical Dublin characters while we were sitting there. One was an old man on a bike with a fancy hat and a can of cider as accessories. He sat in a bush. The other was a slightly older man with a big grey beard, who thought it highly amusing to rob the other man's hat when he wasn't looking and run off with it down the street. Of course, he was caught and had to return it, but it was still funny all the same. And the man who he took it from didn't seem to mind, either. I missed the mad Dublin characters. They give this city such a different feel to any other city I've visited. It's fantastic.

Anyway, pre-drinks probably weren't the best idea because, by about 11PM, I was completely and utterly wasted. Luckily, it was a nice kind of wasted. No tears, no bullshit, just drinking and good music and great company and fun! I made friends with, and was attemptedly pulled by (as in, there was a five second kiss before I pulled away in disgust) this French lad in a top hat. That was fairly random. The druggie peeps told me all about their coke adventures on the night bus and tried to drag me home with them (again). That was even more random. The emo purposely smashed a glass, was kicked out of the bar and spent the next two hours sitting on O'Connell street with his bud who I have yet to hang out with sober. And lots of other mad shit happened that I can hardly even remember.

Having said all of that, and even despite how fucking ill I am now and have been all day, the night was a complete success. There were no fights, no so-called "drama", nobody turned up to stare at anybody from across the room menacingly (poor Scooby - I thought I was the only one that happened to!), nobody tried to stir shit up or piss anybody off, and, with the exception of the emo being kicked out of the place, we all managed to have a fucking great time and go home smiling! There are definite blanks in my memory, some of which were filled in by Noodles earlier on today en route to some greasy food and a couple of bottles of Coke. We were in stitches, even though I was leaning out the car window hoping I wouldn't vomit. I know, I know, I'm so fancy. There's nothing like laughing off all the mad shit one has done the morning after with a good friend. And it's so nice to have good friends. I got so used to being treated like shit that it still feels strange to be surrounded by such wonderful people, who get me and vice versa.

Also, the emo got a new dog this morning, and thought it'd be a good idea to bring it in to me in bed to say hello. Luckily, the thing is a tiny puppy, otherwise I would've freaked out big time. I'm terrified of dogs. Of course, Munich was full of them, and Saz had me saying "Hallo" to all of em on the street by the end of the trip. But even so, the emo's new puppy was the first dog I've ever properly held. And it was scary. His other dog was put down yesterday, so he wasn't in the best mood, but I think the new pup cheered him up a bit. I'm dying to get a cat, but my mother hates them.

Urgh...I feel like my head is going to fall off... Time to wrap this up and hop into bed with some green tea. I'm such an old woman. Oh god.


Song of the day: Marilyn Manson - Rock is Dead.