So we're well into 2009 now and thank god the "how was your xmas and new year?" enquiries that people don't really mean or care for the answer (lets be honest), have started to cease so thank fuck. My plan of no drinking seems to have worked except at a wedding on sunday it didn't work at all and I drank lots of red wine, and mulled wine. Mulled wine is soooo lovely. I like Gluhwein which is Austrian I think and yum. Matter of fact I might check for some of that online. Anyway, back to my tales of woe, I mean back to the wedding. It was GREAT. My good friend's Sam and James were getting married after a MERE 15 years together. I did a reading and so did Leon. Went ok 'cept I got a bit choked and did lots of clearing of my throat but in the end it all came good.
After the ceremony there were whoredevours, and I ate loads! Then we drank mulled wine, and went to get some dinner. SO much fun it was. I love the gang, even though they're ALL married and most are now with child. It feels weird hanging out with them sometimes cause in the old days I had a boyf and we used to all go out as a big group. That's not to say I feel like I don't fit in, I've known them for so bloody long I can't NOT fit, having known most since I was 8! Just I sometimes wonder what they think of crazy old Leanne. Prolly that she's crazy and old and now appears to be referring to herself in the third person. Crazy bitch.
Anyway then it was time for the disco. We were all boogying down to Barry White and I looked around at the lads, Danny Pegg, Matt Till, & Andy Peckover and I noticed that they all appeared to be doing severe Dad Dancing. Then I glanced down at myself and yes, I was indeed doing Mum Dancing. How did that happen? When did it happen? We used to look so cool, so hip, so with it. And now look, flapping our arms about, attempting the Robot intermittently and occassionally attempting to spin each other under arm with little success in a rock and roll stylie. Happy days.
As usual towards the end of the night things got messy and I found myself running around the car park in the snow with Leon and Lee. YAY. The next day I was still drunk at breakfast and had a really loud talking voice, trying to seem sober but failing miserably to everyone who went to bed at the reasonable time of midnight. OH well. Great days and congratulations to Sammy and James.
Now, the rest of the week looks like this:
NOTHING ON AT ALL.
And that's how I likes it.