Bada Boom! Bada Bing!

I really didn't feel like going out on Saturday night - don't faint - but then I didn't really feel like staying in. I was working on Sunday, so staying in was not an option when you have five days of stress to look forward to. Like Biggy said, 'mo money, mo problems'.

Apart from Wong picking me up to do my food shop (so handy now she's driving) I spent most of the day on the sofa after taking two rinky dink paracetamol for the headache I'd had since I woke up. Surely one glass of red wine couldn't have done that. I usually take stronger painkillers, but since reading about Robbie Williams addiction to painkillers I began to re-assess my enthusiasm for Co-Codamol. Needless to say the paracetamol did absolutely nothing for my headache which fast began to turn into a migraine. Having suffered through a phase of migraines which saw me throwing up every day for a week and end up on a drip in hospital I rang Suzy Wong for some painkillers and got my ass ready to go out.

Wong is the painkiller Queen, due to suffering from really bad period pain. Which you know about when you call her and she says: "Don't chat to me, I ain't the girl." Ooookkkk.

After a fairly dry night out the weekend before, we heard about a DJs birthday party at Le Fez, and everyone said it was going to be a good night. So I flung on the frock, and my platform Kurt Geigers (praying for at least a five-hour dancing limit) and hoped the painkillers plus a brandy would dissolve the hurt in my head. Boy did they ever.

We got there at about quarter to 2 (Wong was being long), and it was already ram. The dancefloor was just wall to wall bodies, and the DJs were playing high above the crowd on the balcony. It was a night of flossing, as mans was keen to impress the many women there (and show off on each other) by buying champagne and brandy, eager to secure the all-important 'crub' later on. A combination of the Ibuprofen and the brandy ensured I was on a level pretty quickly. In fact, I was high. Now I get the painkiller addiction.

I saw a guy I know who I quite fancy. Dayum. This night was getting better. A guaranteed flirt op for the night. With my dancing partner on lock, and the DJs playing tune, it turned out to be a wicked night. At six o'clock in the morning we were dancing to Justin Timberlake's 'My Love', the couples and people that don't rave often had already left, and the party was still going strong. I bought one drink the whole night, but my glass was never empty. The night had flown by in a blur of dancing, laughter, and flirting, and we staggered outside into the daylight at around 7am to the car. Oohh, damn, it was bright outside. People were looking at us in our raving clothes with disdain, it was now Sunday after all and we sure didn't look like we were dressed for church. Well my church was over for the night. For this week.