Love Doesn't Conquer All!!

Hello there,

I hope I am actually speaking to somebody out there, even if it is just one person. If so, Hello :)

I didn't think that I would mention Valentines again for another year but the one that just passed was far too memorable not to mention!

I started the night well with champagne and strawberries. I wore my favourite dress, emerald green and fitted at the waist. My hair was tied back and my make up done to perfection. I didn't have a Valentine but I was going to look good!

So off I went, tottering in my black wedges towards the 50s night at my local. It was packed full of people in fantastic 50s fancy dress and I mometarily regretted not making more of an effort. Fancy dress was, afterall, one of my favourite things. I am however, more into dressing as Zombies or Corpse brides! In an effort to stay off the dreaded sambucca shots I opted for a half a cider and was slightly alarmed when each sip made me queasy "Must be because I'm not used to it" I thought. I had a little dance to the house band, fluttered about the pub seeing various friends from different groups who don't really mix then left for my next destination.

The club I regularly go to is a bit of a dive and for this particular clubnight you need to be drunk. Hammered in fact. I was stone cold sober due to the inability to drink. I, the boozehound, couldn't drink! What was happening?! I had decided something was wrong when the second cider made me want to run to the nearest toilet but still I prevailed, it was Valentines night afterall! I arrived, said my 'Hellos' and met a male friend at the bar. He started to play the over protective father and telling me the new boys I was hanging out with were no good. An ex friend was sat in the corner making me feel bad and the nausea had got worse. I went outside hoping for some kind of relief, instead my mood had gone from sad to agitated and I knew I had to leave. This wasn't just nausea, I was going to be sick!

So I ran for the nearest taxi, ignoring the boy who was trying to tell me something important and possibly asking me out. My 'out of his head on beer' friend got in the taxi also, so drunk was he I had to shut the taxi door for him. We finally arrived at mine after what seemed to be the longest journey ever, I didn't think I would last without spoiling the poor guys car if you get what I mean.

The final staw came when my friend took forever to find his change, I had to run out of the taxi leaving them both wih the lovely words "I have to go now, I'm going to be sick!".

I'll spare you the rest of the details. St Valentine sure does have a funny sense of humour. He didn't shoot his arrow in my heart this year but appeared to miss and strike my stomach instead. I spent the rest of the evening and following day nursing a stomach bug.