The Science Of Alcohol

When the rate of alcohol consumption is greater than the rate of alcohol absorption into the bloodstream, you're on a one way trip to Drunksville. Or in my case, a two-way trip to Airport West.

Cocktails and champagne at The Long Room turned into cheap white from a tumbler at St Jerome's (with ice and dancing). Actually the dancing was good, haven't been out dancing in a while.

Flesh was bared, Steff got her pash but renegged on the dash, we chatted to some lovely guys and then it was time to head home.

It was only 11.

Perhaps it was the fact that I haven't been drinking much recently. Perhaps it is that the Veuve and the cheap white were having a class battle in my stomach. Perhaps it was the heat and the heady nightlife. But by the time I was sitting on the tram I had to close my eyes to refrain from redecorating the upholstery. It was just like high school (except that I didn't drink at all back then and Perth has no trams - unless you count the Burswood tram, which didn't exist back then).

I opened my eyes to be greeted by a kindly young man saying something about falling asleep and heading back into the city. Because I never fall asleep on trams, I politely dismissed his comments and ensured him that I knew exactly where I was. And I did... right up until the tram doors closed on the wrong side and it moved off in a completely contrary direction.

And my iPod was playing the soundtrack to Somersault - decidedly fitting but I never cued it up. Strange.

I got in the front door at 1. I had to ring Byron because I had lost my keys, which turned out to be in my pocket. I also lost my phone, which turned out to be on the lounge next to me.

Good times!