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saturday night and sunday morning

Oooof. I'm tired. On Saturday night, Patsington and I were entertaining (in the verbal sense, not the adjectival sense, although doubtless we were that too as the night wore on). We had two friends over for dinner, but in a fit of madness Patsington bought about five bottles of wine and somehow they were all consumed. Patsington also bought a bottle of cognac, which was also consumed (although not by me THANK GOD). So it's not surprising that we both felt a little unwell the following morning. Oh, why do I ever drink wine? It's too easy to drink too much of it, and it's responsible for the worst hangovers I've ever had. I have to say that I didn't really drink all that much (although those who witnessed me waffling on and on and on about god knows what on Saturday night may dispute that. Of course, those who have experienced by slightly drunken self before know that it takes about a glass of wine to get me waffling on and on, so that doesn't mean much), so I didn't feel too awful in the morning. In fact, I think most of my unwell-ness was caused by smoking ten cigarettes along with the wine. And my ability to actually get up and move around and consume edible substances was a good thing, because I'm writing a piece about the Dublin Unitarian church and I had to get up at nine in the morning and go in to the service. Oh, yes. I had to get up on a Sunday and GO TO MASS. It was like old times.

Except it wasn't, of course, because it wasn't a mass and in fact, I rather liked it. The church is absolutely lovely - the Victorian stained glass depicts Christopher Columbus, Florence Nightingale and William Caxton instead of Mary and a bunch of saints (they represented discovery, love and work respectively), and the atmosphere was very cool and serene. It was also strange to go to such an informal, unritualised religious service - I'm just used to Catholic masses and a few CofI services (which can be so like a mass it's hard to feel the difference), so it was weird not knowing what came next, and in fact it seems to be different every week. There were a couple of readings - one of which was a column on science and forgiveness from my own employers (at the risk of sounding like the Daily Mail chuntering on about crazy Guardian-reading liberals, YOU COULDN'T MAKE IT UP), another of which was a Gerald Manley Hopkins poem - and a genuinely interesting sermon. Oh, and there was the Our Father, but that was the only reference to God in the entire thing. There's no altar; in fact, there weren't even any crosses. Even the hymns (which were sung with great gusto) were unlike typical Christian hymns - the final one was 'We Shall Overcome'. It really did feel like organised liberal agnosticism, which I suppose is why I liked it, being a liberal agnostic myself.

However, I wish I hadn't been suffering from hangover-clumsiness throughout the entire thing, meaning that at the tea-and-custard-creams session afterwwards, I nearly spilled tea over about five Unitarians. And then I was meeting leedy and our youngest sister, Planet of the Apes, for a post-leedy-birthday lunch. But I had forgotten my phone, and we hadn't arranged a definite meeting place, and of course in this modern age I don't know anyone's phone numbers any more, so I had to ring my sister at home (the family palace - I should hope I could manage to remember that number, not least because it was my own until I was 23) and pray that she hadn't left the house yet. Which she hadn't, because she was driving in, so I met her and leedy and leedy's beloved and sadly not jane_the_23rd, who had said she might join us, because I didn't have my phone to ring her and tell her where we were going in advance. Japanese food was eaten and afterwards I waddled off home, full of tofu, to find Patsington had overcome his cognac-hangover and had, like the angel he is, actually DONE THE HOOVERING. He admitted that he had spent most of the day lying feebly in his dressing gown, but his helpful productivity made up for his sloth.

Alas, I still feel slothful now myself. Even though I went to bed at eleven last night and got up at nine this morning. So forgive this rather rambling entry. In fact, just think of it as a (sober) taste of what I'm like when I've had a glass of wine...



( 10 comments — Leave a comment )
Aug. 22nd, 2005 11:10 am (UTC)
You also sent me the sweetest drunk mail ever. Remember that? Lovely Anna!
Aug. 22nd, 2005 11:31 am (UTC)
Ha, I do remember that! The sign of the true interbets addict - checking and replying to mail before you tumble drunkenly into bed at two in the morning.
Aug. 22nd, 2005 02:06 pm (UTC)
Hee! Indeed. Except that, alas, now I cannot in all conscience feed my addiction: all the interbets cafés are run by Muslims. I feel somewhat seedy at the thought of rolling in last thing at night steaming drunk ,and demanding to use the net under the stern gaze of quotes from the Koran on the wall...
Aug. 22nd, 2005 11:12 am (UTC)
My Cousin of Substance is Unitarian and her stories about chapel are completely hilarious. It's religions like that that make me wish I could summon up even a bit of agnosticism, just for the singing. And I bet you can get a cup of tea after, too.
Aug. 22nd, 2005 11:30 am (UTC)
Tea AND custard creams, in this case!

It was so weird to go a religious service and actually agree with what was being said, rather than feeling annoyance or glazed-eyed apathy.
(Deleted comment)
Aug. 22nd, 2005 11:20 am (UTC)
If you didn't have that much to drink, I hate to think how much Patsington and the others had. I'm not surprised he was feeling feeble...

The service does sound good. Even I'd go to church occasionally, if it were like that.

Aug. 22nd, 2005 11:29 am (UTC)
Well, I don't think the other female guest drank too much either! In fact, I probably consumed more than her in the end. But really, it was the smoking that did it for me. Never again!

And, the service really was nice. If you ever get a chance to attend a Unitarian function, it's worth doing so, just to see what it's like - I'm glad I went.
Aug. 22nd, 2005 02:04 pm (UTC)
In fact, I think most of my unwell-ness was caused by smoking ten cigarettes along with the wine.

Stopping "social smoking" has pretty much stopped me getting truly murderous hangovers - I really think it makes the nasty effects of booze much worse. I had a lapse about a month ago, and both myself and B woke up feeling like we had been beaten around the head with bricks.
Aug. 22nd, 2005 05:07 pm (UTC)
You & I got slightly drunk on one white wine spritzer each last Friday, so I don't think any one could accuse us of being heavy drinkers!
( 10 comments — Leave a comment )


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