Monday, 8 February 2010
THE LONG AWAITED TWEET-UP . . .
I was always jealous of those bloggers over the pond who meet up regularly and so when I first got the email suggesting the Manchester Tweet-Up, I was all for it. I joined in the plans, booked my train tickets, eagerly awaited the 6th February . . .
And as I sat on the train, finally sure I was on the RIGHT one and Manchester-bound I suddenly started to panic. WHAT WAS I THINKING??? I COULDN'T DO THIS!
There was so much for me to worry about, aside from the fact that they were maybe all men pretending to be girls to lure me to Manchester (which they weren't, thank God!). What if I couldn't think of anything to say? What if they didn't like me? What if I didn't like THEM? What if I embarrassed myself by doing something stupid like falling over? (er...) There was this really surreal thought that it was like meeting characters from a book - I'd read about their lives but they'd never quite seemed REAL to me, despite me being friends with them on Facebook and chatting to them via email and twitter for months now to plan this thing.
I was suddenly TERRIFIED!
And then I got to the station and met Miss Smidge, The Pink Jellybaby and Helen, I realised my nerves were unfounded, because they were lovely. We decided to grab a drink while waiting for Elle. And then, after Elle arrived and we couldn't check into our (absolutely INCREDIBLE!) apartment, we went for ANOTHER drink.
Probably a bit of a rookie error. By the time we'd checked in and Miss H had arrived, I had imbibed two large glasses of wine (one of which had came in a BEEYOOTIFUL plastic glass, which always makes me feel REALLY classy.)
After that everything turned into a bit of a blur.
I remember drinking red wine (which is unusual for me) which Liz Sara had brought along, followed by more rose. A LOT of rose . . .
I VAGUELY recall eating some stuff (which was probably a good thing since all I'd eaten before that was a packet of Weightwatchers Hula Hoops on the way down on the train and a couple of Elle's chips in the second pub), including delicious cupcakes made by LiloLou.
I remember (after a comment on another blog jogged my memory, that is!) that we had a lime thief in our midst (tut tut, Helen!)
I remember the local girls, Victoria, Rachel and Julia turning up. And me getting even drunker.
I don't really remember leaving the apartment. Which makes me wonder how I possibly managed to get into a drinking establishment because I must have ALREADY been wasted.
Apparently I also got involved in a rant about Jordan/Katie Price and how she was just a star-fucker. Well, THAT'S true.
And I fell. OF COURSE I fell. I was drunk and wearing heels. Heels do NOT agree with me. Apparently I was fairly close to getting chucked out by the bouncer. Oops. I don't remember much about the fall (thank God, cos it must have been embarrassing!) but I have a mental image (which may or may not be based on reality, or simply my paranoia) of flailing around on the floor like a four-legged starfish. I hope that's not actually a drunken flashback...
The aforementioned heels were KILLING my feet by the end of the night. I have a vague memory of whimpering with every step on the (very short) walk home.
We were back at the apartments before midnight. I would say it's because we're lightweights but - HELLO? DRINKING SINCE HALF PAST ONE IN THE AFTERNOON??? I'm amazed I lasted as long as I did!
Apparently I then spent some time lying on the floor. And also getting yelled at by one of my flatmates on the phone cos I'd worried her and one of my other friends by not answering my phone. It took me a while to convince her I HADN'T been kidnapped. She then called me a "bawbag" - my new friends defended me though.
I then proceeded to pass out in one of the beds and was in such a heavy sleep I didn't even notice when Miss Smidge got into bed with me. It was only when I woke up the next morning with no clue where I was, and hearing someone else breathing, that I realised I wasn't alone. Another momentary panic as I wondered if I'd taken a random back with me, then I realised it was her - thank God!
I spent most of Sunday hanging about Piccadilly waiting for the train home - unfortunately the other girls were either on earlier trains or had other plans - and even braved one of the bars myself (very unlike me!) Smidge and her dad joined me just at the point where I was going insane with my own company and my boring book, and then it turned out one of my friends was actually in Manchester too and on the same train back as me.
Which was a good thing as 1) the train was full of knobs* and 2) the train was going to be splitting in two at Preston and if she hadn't been with me, I would probably have ended up in the depths of the Lake District instead of Glasgow.
In the end, it was nearly ten last night before I got home and I was exhausted, but still managed to enjoy another bottle of wine. Today everything hurts and I'm sooo tired. I have random bruises everywhere but a bunch of fabulous memories (albeit blurry) of these amazing girls I met this past weekend.
I miss you all already girls! Roll on the next meet-up in (hopefully!) Scotland . . . :) xxx
* A post about trains being full of knobs is more than likely in the offing...