Oooog. My very first hangover. Ever.

I drank a hell of a lot at my company party at Zouk last night. I didn't expect to - the free flow of drinks was scheduled to end at 10 pm and I usually don't drink a lot that early... but yesterday night, by the time free flow ended, I had had eight drinks, inclusive of two shots. I had also been strutting my stuff on the dance floor and was attracting attention because - hey - I looked quite pretty and I was wearing my distinctive newsboy cap which always attracts attention. Or as my friend put it, I was dressed like a "French arts student" which is, apparently, one of his fantasies... but that's another story. Heh.

Anyway, I ended up at Velvet after the free flow ended, ran into some people from my high school who I recognised or recognised me but who I didn't know personally, and had some more drinks with the rest of my company people who were still there... this time, I had champagne and wine, and if you've been reading this blog faithfully, then you'll know that those are the two drinks which knock me out - guaranteed.

My memory gets kind of fuzzy at this point. Somehow, after the wine, I ended up at the bar talking rather drunkenly to an Australian who, fortunately for me, kept getting me glasses of water. I don't remember how I got there or how I started talking to him or even how I started SMSing another friend to help 'rescue' me because I was aware that I was rather drunk. Anyway, my friend turned up, dragged me to the Zouk dance floor where I proceeded to dance myself sober and realise that I couldn't recall what I had been doing for the past half hour or so. Not good.

So. I got home by 3 am, having been sent home (phew!) by my friend's friend and woke up at 8.30 am with a headache, wondering how on earth I had managed to change into sleeping attire because I couldn't recall doing that either.

Oh well. As my friend put it when I told him that this was my first very drunken night ever, "hopefully, it'll be the first of many nights to come."