"I can't believe I was sick over my own feet," said Sarah*.
It was indeed that sort of a hen night. Lots of giggling, lots of alcohol and a very embarrassing flashback to early 1999. Katy (Who Smells of Wee) had brought along a video that Hazel, Kath and I had made and sent to her whilst she was abroad, when it was still the twentieth century. We were too lazy to send letters.
Three questions about the embarrassing video.
Question One: why did 1999-Laura think that Katy would be at all interested in details of the bloke at work (whom she'd never met) that I almost used to fancy but didn't really any more? She was then lucky enough to receive a blow-by-blow account of my 1999 work's Christmas party, which she didn't attend. I was considerate like that.
Question Two: my 1999 haircut. WHY?
Question Three: we were all fairly intelligent girls - did it not occur to us that Katy might not actually have a video player in a Swaziland village hospital?
Anyway, it was a good weekend, and Jessica and I now know where Bridlington is.
I have been busier than a hamster in a spin-dryer since Thursday. On Thursday evening my primary-school friend Sara came to stay with me. I hadn't really seen her since I was eleven, as she's been living in the US for the last few years. We had a very nice evening, thank you for asking.
On Friday I drove up to Loughborough, breaking the journey on the way to Bridlington. We passed many places with brilliant names: Pocklington, Wetwang, and, our favourite, Nafferton. Erica has the weakest bladder. This is official.
Saturday was Hen Night Galore. Kath's all grown up and nearly married. I, however, am still immature and take delight in pulling silly faces at inappropriate moments. RASP.
Sunday I belted back to London as Nice Kate was arriving at 3-ish. It was lovely, lovely, lovely to see her. We caught up on all the news. We labelled several people of our common acquaintance "shithead tossers", talked about inappropriate things a bit too loudly in an Italian restaurant, gave dirty looks to the loud Polish people on the next table, ate far too much chocolate and then Nice Kate stole my pyjamas. I'm considering changing her name from Nice Kate to Pyjama-Stealing Kate. Though that is a bit specific. I'll let you know what I decide.
That's loads. I've written loads. So don't moan it's been ages since the last entry.
* Name has been changed to protect identity. Kind of. OK, it hasn't.
7 comments:
Re: 1999 hair - was it inadvisably short, a la Jessica Stevenson in Bob & Rose? I have noticed that many many people had similar bad short hair at the time...
Not my fault your mother makes coffee with added diuretics. I only asked for milk and sugar.
:op
Yes, yes, that's exactly what it was. Inadvisably short is the exact phrase! (And a bit "naturally brunette" as well...)
In that case, perhaps I was well-trendy at the time. Though I think using phrases like "well-trendy" probably negates that one.
Erica - everyone knows that "milk and sugar" means "milk and sugar and a mild diuretic please". Did you skive that day? Were you in the library?
;o)
L x
Thanks so much for dinner and putting me up for the night! You were a wonderful host. It was great catching up on gossip from 1991! I can't believe you still have the score from Alice. I have to see that video some time so I can laugh at myself!
You have to come out to Philly. You're welcome to stay with me anytime! I love vistors :)
Glad to hear you survived the Hen night!
~ Sara
Mum said I might like to point out that Nice Kate stole my spare pyjamas. Sorry for any confusion / disappointment.
L x
I shall add you to my growing list of people with bad late-90s hair, then. Although yes, we obviously were "well-trendy" at the time, if everyone did it.
Hi Laura,
Jon Pither here. I've never seen such prolific blogging, more than I'd have thought humanly possible. In fact I would go as far to say that I can't be arsed to read it all in one sitting, it may take me many months.
Keep it up. I probably won't come back to this site in a while, unless Kath mentions something about it, even then I'll probably forget. So don't hold out any hopes of me commenting again. Please do not spend wakeless hours anticipating my presence once again in your HTML.
Have a happy christmas. I'll see you at the wedding. Hopefully you or Kath will remind me at some point to come back and read the corresponding blog article on it.
Post a Comment