Saturday, 9 June 2001

I woke with a start. There was a dull throb in my head and I could feel the pressure building up against my skull. Every slightest movement exaggerated the incessant, never ending pounding. I groaned as I slowly lifted my hands to massage my temple. My mouth felt like a sandpit and I could have probably murdered whoever was standing in front of me just then with my breath. I blinked a couple of times as I stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling.

Gosh, this room was freezing. I pulled at the thin excuse for a blanket and wrapped it snugly against me, curling it under my feet, trying desperately to keep warm. Now where was I again? I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to remember. Oh yes, I was at my best friend's place. The thumping in my head grew worse. I groaned again. I could feel whatever it was in my stomach going around in circles, occasionally jumping up and trying to find a way out through my throat. I could feel it coming. Bathroom! I needed the bathroom.

Problem was, my body seemed to be telling the brain that it was on strike. Uh huh, I'm not moving. C'mon, I pleaded with it. It's not that hard. Slowly I removed the blanket and slid my legs towards the floor. Then with much difficulty, I managed to persuade my body to sit up. My feet touched the cold tiles as I lifted myself off the bed. Shit. Cold, cold, I cursed as I hurriedly crawled to the bathroom.

And just in time too. Ah, my friend the toilet bowl. I hugged it and stuck my head in.

Half-digested fermented grape juice, strands of spaghetti here and there, clumps of goodness-knows-what. I stared at the contents of the bowl. Ewww, I wrinkled my nose as the stench hit me. Hastily I flushed the contents down the drain. What the hell did I eat or drink last night, I wondered as I slumped back against the wall.

After awhile, I reluctantly pulled myself up, clutching on to the towel rack for support. I shuffled to the basin and flipped the tap, feeling the cold water splash onto my hands. I cupped a palmful and brought it to my face.

Ahhh…that felt much better. Raising my eyes, I stared into the mirror in front of me. Oh boy, do I look like shit or do I look like shit? I cupped another handful of water and brought it to my mouth, hoping to gargle away the awful taste in there. I decided I was badly in need of a shower too.

Ignoring the protests from my body, I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the shower cubicle. My legs shook a little as I struggled to keep upright. Bracing myself against the sides of the cubicle, I moved under the stream of warm water. I closed my eyes and savoured the feel of it on my weary body.

Finally, I stepped out. Dripping wet, I looked about for a towel. Ah, there it was, folded nicely next to the basin. I grabbed it and wiped myself dry. Then I wrapped it around me and headed back into the bedroom. Spotting my overnight bag on the floor next to the dresser, I went over and rummaged through it. I quickly pulled on some clean clothes, which wasn't a moment too soon as I felt another wave of dizziness hit me. Stumbling back into the bed, I pulled the covers over my eyes, hoping to block out the light as I desperately tried to will away the returning headache. Then I heard a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," I mumbled under the sheets.

The door slowly creaked open. "You up yet?" a tired voice asked.

I peeked out from under the blanket and saw my best friend, Maggie, standing in the room. She wearily dragged herself over to the bed and plopped her bottom down just at my foot. She would have sat on it too if I hadn't moved it out of the way just in time.

"Huh, you look like shit," I scoffed.

"Well, you don't look like Ms Universe yourself," she retorted. Then added, "Are you ready to go?"

I turned to look at my watch, which was on the bedside table next to me. I could just about make out the small hand near the 8 and the big hand somewhere between 4 and 5. "I thought we were supposed to leave at dawn?" I frowned.

"Hello, by the time we got home, it *was* dawn," Mag uttered. "Come on, our stuff's already in the car." She pulled the blanket off me and slapped my bottom. "Get up, lazy pig."

"Oh, and…," Mag said as she stood up to leave. "Happy birthday."

Happy birthday? Oh yea, today was my birthday. Which probably explains why I can't remember most of what happened last night. There was a party. Yep, I clearly remembered there being a party. At Mag's husband's restaurant. My friends were there. Friends whom I had known most of my life. Friends whom I met a few years ago. Friends whom I'd just met a couple of hours ago. Friends of friends. Friends of friends of friends. They were all they. Even those I didn't know I knew! There was booze too. Lots of alcohol. Wine and champagne. Gin and vodka. Cognac and whiskey. Geesh, I can't quite remember what I had last night. I gave up trying to force the memory as the headache pounded on my skull again.
Reluctantly, I dragged myself out of bed. Grabbing my overnight bag, I slung it over my shoulders and headed on out the door. We were going to drive down to Singapore for the weekend today. Leave at dawn and arrive in Singapore in time for breakfast. That was the plan anyway. That was why I was in Mag's house. I had stayed over so that we could leave immediately the next day after the party.

"Good morning. How's the birthday girl doing?"

I heard the chuckle and turned around. Mag's husband, Joe, held out his hand at me and indicated towards my bag. I passed it to him as I mumbled some incoherent reply before climbing into the backseat of the car. Mag was already seated in the passenger side.

"How you feeling?" she asked with a grin.

"There's a jackhammer going off in my head and my mouth feels like I've just eaten a dead rat," I muttered. "How do you think I'm feeling?"

"There's a lesson to be learned there. It says, 'don't drink if you can't'," Joe laughed as he got into the driver's seat.

"It's not her fault," Mag scowled at her husband, coming to my defense. "If it wasn't for your friend who kept raising his glass and forcing her to bottoms-up with him, she would have been all right."

"My friend?" Joe asked.

"Darren," Mag replied.

Darren? I raised my brow. Who was Darren, I wondered and tapped Mag on the shoulder. "Who's Darren?" I whispered.

Mag turned and looked at me incredulously. "Who's Darren?" she exclaimed. "He's only the guy you were so chummy with last night. I can't believe you have absolutely no recollection whatsoever."

I shook my head sheepishly. I seriously don't remember there being any Darren at the party. Then again, there were lots I couldn't remember about last night. Let's see…I mentally ticked off on my fingers as I tried to recall who was at the restaurant the night before.

"You still looked pretty conscious when we brought out the birthday cake and that was towards the end too," Mag continued.

My mouth dropped open as soon as she had said that. "There was a cake?"

Joe burst out laughing. "I give up," Mag threw her hands up in exasperation and rolled her eyes.

Oh boy, I slumped back into the seat. It must have been quite a night. I looked at Mag from where I was sitting and decided that I had to sit her down soon and get her to fill me in on all the missing details. Just then the car went over a huge bump, causing that sick feeling, that really didn't go away in the first place, to return. I pressed my fingers hard into my temple. My head felt as though it was going to burst.

"Ughh…guys," I whimpered. "Do you have a plastic bag anywhere in this car?"

"Oh shit," Mag cursed as she hastily rummaged through the side pocket of the door. "Here," she said as she shoved a plastic bag into my face.

I managed a soft 'thanks' before quickly burying my head into it.

Joe laughed again. "Happy birthday Flora," he chuckled.