I inserted copious amounts of....

.... alcohol (including, but not limited to, champagne, jagerbombs, sex on the beach, sambuca (why? Oh why?), whisky, etc) into my body last weekend followed by manic dancing (including, but not limited to, on the railing, in the DJ console, etc) in my 4 inch heels to awesome trance music spun by none other than my bestie, DJ Phillip. Oh ya, I was also screaming his name repeatedly at the top of my lungs. Although the club is nearly empty that night, Phillip said my entourage made it sound like it was full house. Which explains why I sound like a horse today.

The day after, I woke up on the wrong side of the bed (I mean literally on the wrong side; apparently I kicked The Man off his side) with a bag of puke next to me. As per my standard operating procedure after a night out like this, I immediately check my surrounding area for my phone and credit card – the only 2 things I bring to a club. The phone was there; the credit card’s missing. So I have to spend the next 20 minutes talking incoherently with some Pinoy dude from my bank’s outsourced call centre while having the mothers of all hangovers.

Bank Dude: M’am, where did you lose your card?
Frou: Where was I? The club… ya, the club I think
Bank Dude: What is the name of the club you went to, Ma’am?
Frou: Err….it starts with an S. I can’t really remember. Salt? Sea? No, it’s Sew? Soul?
Bank Dude: Hmm. What time did you lose your card, M’am?
Frou: Should be last night..err.. between last night and now? What time is now??

I bet he gets that a lot on a Sunday morning.

That besides, my phone has been ringing off its hook since 10am. This is the part I don’t understand. I left the club at 3.30am and only came out of unconsciousness at 12.30pm. On the other hand, we have people like Phillip and Willy who only left the club at 7am and they have been calling me since 10am (and sending hourly sms reminders) to come out for brunch. And not forgetting that during brunch, they were the freshest faces at the table.

Frou: How the hell do you look like that if you only went home at 7am?!
Willy: I put on a collagen mask the minute I got home.
Frou: Before you pass out?
Willy: Darling, passing out is for amateurs.

I wish I have a body that can withstand the elements like that. I’m not just bad at not passing out, I get episodes of amnesia too. According to general hearsay from the people I was with that night, I apparently fell down the stairs of the club a few times and tried to pick up a guy in front of The Man. My only consolation is, I wasn’t the most unglam one. The Toe missed brunch altogether and cannot be contacted at all. Finally, late on Sunday evening, she called to tell me that she passed out at the car park of her apartment and she refused to move so her friend left her there to sleep it off. When she finally came to, she went upstairs to her apartment and passed out under a table. Apparently her parents came by to see her and saw her under the table so her best friend went over to check on her, and she was still “uncooperative”.

Frou: So you spent the whole of Sunday under your table?
Toe: I am never going to drink again.

BUT having said all that, passing out and hangovers notwithstanding, we had a really FANTASTIC time. All my lovely party friends were out with me that night and the music was AWESOME, thanks to Phillip. We had hard thumping trance all night long – just like the way we used to party to back in KL. (The Queen, you and Chocolate would have LOVED it ~ think Movement days. Your koyak son really knows how to rock the house!) I can’t wait to attend his next gig.. and the next.. and the next. Now, I just need to cultivate a body that can withstand the onslaught of alcohol and late night partying. Tips, anyone?

You can view pics of that night here.