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Tuesday Apr 14, 2009

Long weekends, especially 4 day long weekends, should be relaxing and delicious. An Easter long weekend should also involve eating so much chocolate that you want to hurl.


And so I started my long weekend with high expectations of a good weekend, I had a family wedding to go to down in the family heartland (Canberra-ish) and four days off.


I hung out with my Grandma, got a manicure with the bridal party, ate some awesome food, and slept in a little.


Saturday I got suited up for the wedding, I ended up wearing a black suit, I tried on the dress I’d bought for the wedding and fucking hated it. Nothing had changed since I tried it on a week earlier when it arrived but I just couldn’t stand it, so one suit=bought. I chucked on some heels and some make up, I looked pretty awesome.


The ceremony was lovely and the bride’s dress was insanely beautiful (turns out we’re related to a designer in NZ who usually makes couture clothing, she is totally making a dress for me when I get married.)


The reception was great, food was awesome and when the bar tab ran out some blessed person put a couple of grand more on it so the champagne kept flowing. My grandma got up and gave a speech and thankfully did not mention the war or recite any poetry and it was just a very lovely little wedding.


The band is playing, all of the girls wearing heels have kicked them off because we’re classy like that, and then Sabine (my sister) steps on a piece of broken glass someone had dropped.


I have never seen so much blood, like ever, there are pools of the stuff and she wanders off to the bathroom to wash it off as she doesn’t seem to be feeling much pain at that stage (she was a bridesmaid, there was a lot of champagne.)


While washing off her profusely (*retch*) bleeding foot she slips and falls, breaking her ankle on the other foot.


It was bad, there was a million girls in the bathroom all trying to help out and being curious, the event planner is there with a First Aid kit, Sabine melts down and so I ask everyone to clear out of the bathroom. Everyone does, except this one girl who is now trying to bandage Sabine’s bleeding foot. Sabine just wants everyone to leave her alone, and is hurting and is embarrassed and this girl is in Sabine’s face. I ask her to leave again (nicely) (no really, I did ask nicely) she continues to get in Sabine’s face telling her she knows what she’s doing and she’s got to go to the hospital. Sabine officially freaks out and starts pulling away from this girl who is still trying to bandage her foot and hurting her causing her to wince.


I lose it, I tell her to back off, she continues to ignore me and keeps talking to Sabine and bandaging the foot while Sabine is trying to pull away from her.


I officially lose my shit and tell her to back the fuck off, stop touching Sabine and get the fuck out of my face. She does not like this but gets up, she then has a hissy fit about me being a bitch. I tell at her to get the fuck out now before I throw her out. If I wasn’t on the floor holding a bleeding Sabine up I would’ve been in my first fight and just quietly with the adrenaline going I would’ve kicked her arse.


We convince my sister she needs to go to hospital, she does, in her blood spattered bridesmaid dress at 2 a.m. The doctor is a young and bored arrogant asshole who pokes at her severely swollen ankle, and then gives her a local in the other foot right into the cut.


Sabine is not happy.


They bandage her up, we get back to Grandma’s, I get a few hours sleep on the living room floor.


The next day we go back up to the hospital, get some X-ray’s, confirm the ankle is fractured, bandage up the cut foot, and get the hell out of there and come home.


So, since I am highly traumatised by all of the blood and hospitals (I almost fainted at one point with the disinfectant smells and blergh) and Sabine is now at home with a week off with a plaster cast feeling very poorly I think you guys should leave your worst drinking related story (if you were injured even better) in the comments to make her (and me) feel a little better.


Oh, they can totally be things that happened to someone else. Because let’s be honest, it’s always funnier if it happened to someone else…..


Long time reader, first time commenter!

A couple of weekends ago some girl friends and I went to Bath, where I got really drunk to make up for the fact that I now wear cardigans to night clubs. Upon leaving the venue my friend smacked me on the arse, so I chased him down the street and suddenly my legs turned to rubber. I ate shit, there is no better way to describe it. Unfortunately everyone in Bath under the age of 30 was out on the street and saw me stack it. I strained the ligaments in my knee and was unable to walk for two weeks. I told everyone at work that I was sober and tripped on the cobblestone streets. I don’t think they believed me.

April 14th, 2009 | 10:58 pm

I don’t even need to drink to hurt myself!! 😛 But I guess the best one I can remember is about a year ago I got totally smashed playing billiards with some friends and wound up spraining both of my ankles just trying to walk around the billiard table. I also sprained my ankle falling off of one step the weekend before my wedding. And I’m sure I’ve injured myself many other times. Someday it will be something to laugh at for all of you. I hope she doesn’t feel too bad. She just had a bought of really bad luck. But as I’m always told a break is better than a sprain…supposedly they heal better….the cut foot just sucks….but at least she gets to lay around for a week and get waited on hand and foot.

April 15th, 2009 | 1:47 am

where to begin…

Saturday night I had a housewarming party, apparently I insisted that we had to go out.
I don’t remember putting on my dress, but DBoy remembers having to pull it down to cover my ass all night, I don’t remember getting out of the cab in the Valley, but I remember insisting at the door of the club that I would get in, because I am a girl! I got in. And then apparently we left and as I was stumbled down the footpath and DBoy tried to hold me up I ate shit on the gutter and fell into the road. VERY DANGEROUS in the early hours of the morning in the scummy Valley. Then I woke up to a rather unimpressed DBoy Easter morning..

But even better than that is when I did the splits in the middle of the pub because I slipped on the dancefloor and rather than getting rightfully removed from the premises I was applauded 🙂

April 15th, 2009 | 9:32 am

Oh man, you guys are awesome.

Amanda – Hello! I totally did not know you read here, which is awesome since I read your page.

I did not know cardigan’s were inappropriate clubwear, but then I am far too much of a nanna to head to the clubs. That loud kid’s music hurts my ears. Cobblestones are totally a legitimate excuse though.

SuvvyGirl – I love it, you sprained both ankles just walking? Man, you guys have far more interesting stories than I do but I have a feeling the crippled sister is at home reading feeling a lot better now that she knows she’s not the first or last to get hurt while drinking.

Also she has painkillers AND my Mum is flying over for a week to take care of her so she’s got it pretty good. – Dude, that is awesome. My favorite part is doing the splits, and dammit people should applaud that fact!

We really need to go out drinking together 🙂

April 15th, 2009 | 9:39 am

I didn’t hurt myself or anything, but on my last birthday I went out drinking after work with a bunch of coworkers figuring it was early so we’d be done at a decent hour. (I had to work the next day at 8am) We ended up staying out ridiculously late and by the time 11pm rolled around I was tanked. We all decided to do karaoke, and while eddie was up on stage I totally puked all over myself and had to be carried out rockstar style to a waiting vehicle out back. Apparently the bartender jokingly asked one of my friends if I was dead. The next day I woke up still drunk, and rode my bicycle to work. My boss sent me home to sleep it off, and when I got back I realized I had worn the same jeans from the night before complete with puke on them.

I still get teased to this day about it. I don’t think I will ever live it down.

April 16th, 2009 | 11:46 am

Oh Julia, that’s a story that I shouldn’t laugh at. But I especially like the carrying out bit and that you wore the same pants to work the next morning.

You must’ve felt like hell the morning after….

April 16th, 2009 | 12:03 pm

OMG Julia you nut. Tiny ladies shouldn’t drink too much.

Personally, my worst story goes thus. A friend and I went out clubbing in Perth, back before we had driver’s licenses, and the only place that would let us in without checking for ID was a gay bar. The bar was great because it had Johnny Walker & Coke on tap, but I got pissed pretty quickly. To cut a long story short I gave my number to a gay guy. I think he might have kissed me. Not cool.

April 16th, 2009 | 1:53 pm

Oh lord Mark, even I remember the night I snogged a gay guy. There are some things you just don’t forget.

Hell of a night, btw. Ramifications went on for weeks and weeks.

April 16th, 2009 | 10:54 pm

LOL. I bet you can do better than that though.

April 17th, 2009 | 1:30 am

I suspect those days are rapidly becoming behind me. Also, you know, grasping at what’s left of my dignity with both hands.

April 19th, 2009 | 7:13 pm

All of your previous posts will sure pale in comparison to your next one…. let’s possibly title it “How Lucy got very drunk on cocktails, flirted, fondled and fell over in Newtown” …..

While I won’t be embellishing any of the details here, I *do* however look forward to you interesting take on the evenings activities.

As i’m sure everyone else will 🙂


April 20th, 2009 | 3:06 pm

Man, I’ve never made out with a gay man. I did have a boyfriend who seriously considered joining the seminary, but my mad skillz talked him out of that one.

Adam – Why do you lie like this? I fondled no one!

And I’m almost positive I didn’t fall over as I’m not bruised.

At least unless you have photographic evidence.

I didn’t, did I?

April 20th, 2009 | 4:22 pm

I don’t know how I stumbled across your blog, but I’ve been reading it for about a a year and a half or more. I was hesitant to comment in case I came across a bit weird stalkerish. I like that you buy nearly as many dresses on line as I do!

April 24th, 2009 | 6:26 am
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