We Ain't Never Gonna Be Re-spec-ta-bul

My social life currently comprises attending fund-raising events and ... no that's it, that's all I do. This weekend was Cherub's Kinder's turn. It was an auction dinner, you know, where you go round scoring freebies from local traders AND donate as much as they can get out of you personally, then you turn up on the night to buy it all back. It was held at a fairly daggy reception centre with the worst chandelier ever and pretty 'orrible food. And of course being a function, we had no choice about the meal that landed in front of us. I got lasagne. Reception centre lasagne. Not what I wanted and not particularly nice, but the wine was free and we were served meals more than 2 hours later than I normally eat, so I shut up and ate up. And drank the free wine. Well, I say free. You had to pay $50 for drinks and dinner. Which is why I went with my friend Trish and Fixit stayed home with the kids.

The evening had an 80's theme and you could dress up if you wanted. Of course I wanted to. As did quite a few others. There was a very good Madonna, a chick in a hot-pink leotard and a high side ponytail, lots of floppy scarves tied on top of the head, someone wore a bright orange corporate shoulder-padded jacket, one of the blokes wore eye-liner. Good fun. And when the auction stuff was over there was lots of 80's music that enticed a surprising amount of people up to shake their booties.

Nell did my make-up, and did not forget to give me hideous 80's blusher. Fixit grimaced at me before I left and told me I had no chance of picking up. He said my arse looked too long in the high-waisted trousers. I said in the 80's everyone liked long arses, but he didn't look convinced.

I was aiming for Mel and Kim :

but as person after person came up to smile at me and comment on the great hat I realised I'd actually achieved Boy George:

Anyway, do you remember about all the free wine I drank to compensate for getting lasagne? Well, in true 80's flashback, when I got home I lay in bed with the room revolving around me and then realised I needed to drive the porcelain bus. As in throw up in the toilet. Then I felt much better and slept like a log. I wanted to do things the next morning so I got up and showered and washed the kilogram of gel out of my hair. But not long after that I was back in bed with a bucket and there I stayed all day, much to Fixit's annoyance (he has a test today and wanted to study not mind kids). Man, I was miserable. The sad thing is that in the 80s I knew I couldn't hold my liquor, and drank fairly sensibly. Even more sad is that I really only had between 4 and 5 glasses of wine the whole night, a 5 hour evening that included eating and dancing. Pathetic!

I feel old and pathetic today but at least I am no longer nauseous. And it just goes to show, you can't go back. The mind is willing but the flesh is a wimp.