Got drunk, befriended thief. Was robbed. Fell down, broke face

...and I know I wasn't going to mention weekend activities but this one is a bit different. After that it was 'staggered possibly concussed through park, emerged at Blenheim Rd, was confused, staggered to Chateau, knocked on at least one wrong door, woke people, babbled, fell bleeding on couch.' For which by the way I must give profuse thanks and apologies to the denizens of the Chateau; kind of used to me knocking on their door in the small hours as they may be, it doesn't make it any better when I do it, especially when I look like I just got back from the Somme (although I must say I wasn't aware of that. I wondered why people were looking at me strangely as I stumbled through town). I guarantee I will not knock on your door with a bleeding face at 6 in the morning ever again.

The whole part after emerging from the Grumpy Mole was is something of a blur, although more information may be forthcoming tomorrow if we talk to Steph of our netball team, who's flatmate apparently may or may not have bowled me over, and then vanished. Who can tell?

Anyway as James has noted, events such as this do tend to make one reflect on things a bit, and there's only so much you can put down to being young and stupid. Suffice it to say anyway that while I'm not vowing off alcohol completely just yet, I will definitely be taking it easy for a good while, especially as I need to re-save the money of mine that some guy that probably isn't actually called 'Nathan' is spending right now. Now that I think about it, he was probably buying James and I rounds with my money. Ha! The good news is that the police are apparently already on the lookout for the bastard, and the Grumpy Mole has cameras that were operating, according to girl we know that works there today, so hopefully they can track him down after we lay an official complaint tomorrow. However, I feel that more difficult than apprehending the criminal will be getting any sympathy from my bank. We will see.

This is what happens to you when you go out drinking on Friday the 13th. Unlucky for some indeed. Karma for not writing my thesis methinks. All in all I'm glad I didn't break my nose / teeth / get beaten or shot by scared residents of the wrong house / get arrested / get run over / get mugged again on the way home (although pickings would have been slim, and clearly I was looking like someone you wouldn't want to mess with). Last night (after being sure my Grandma had left the house) I got home and gave my Mum a hug and felt better.

I suspect you all get to call me 'Scabby' or similar variants for the next few weeks as well. What fun.

Anyway, off to play rehersal with a new dimension added to my character. He just fought the entire English rugby team, or something. And if you think I look bad, you should see them....etc. See, it's all worth it really, when you consider the stories I can make up.

Not.