The whole point of the evening was to celebrate Alex´ 23rd birthday, and initially that worked out pretty well. But being in Australia has obviously hampered the little bit of drinking control I had from before. After getting hit in the jaw twice by Alex (not a fight, just a very stupid guy thing, drunken guy thing :) the police arrived and told us to shut up, because it was getting VERY late (11 pm, wtf!?).
From there on out I pretty much blacked out, so most of what I write now I am being told by the others.
It starts with me almost getting run over twice, just outside the apartment. Apparently I senselessly wandered the street, with no idea that there could actually be cars there. We then jumped on the tram, and headed for the city. 10 minutes before arriving in the city, I was feeling sick as hell and jumped off the tram, getting my wallet and mobile thrown after me by the others. I then scavenged for a taxi for a while, and when I finally found one, I emptied my wallet in the drivers lap asking; "Will this get me to Burwood, yes or no?"
The reply was positive, and I am finally on my way home. 5 Minutes from home however, I get into a hefty argument with the driver, and I am on the verge of being left by the side of the road. What the fight was about I don´t recall. The mood cools down, and the driver drops me of by the school, and that´s a 3 minute walk from home.
YES, I am sick and tired, and I am finally at the door. Crap. No keys.
Apparently, the smartest thing I could think of, was to use my shirt as a pillow and going to sleep on our front stairs. The girls arrived a couple of hours later, got me inside and tucked me in.
I hereby swear only to bring one(1) wine bottle to the next party. Cross my heart and hope to die, unless a car does that job for me first.
My bed:
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