Sooo....Wednesday night I decided to go out and 'get pure mad wae it' with my best friend Claire. We had a massive argument the other week but we're pals again, and this night out was really the equivalant of make-up sex.
I generally view myself as quite a classy girl - I don't spit, I speak properly and I haven't slept with half of Stirling. However, I do have my moments and incidentally chose to have one of these afore mentioned moments on Wednesday evening. To be fair I wasn't the one who bought the rose wine but I was the one who thought it would be an excellent idea to try and down it within a half hour period. Please note I said 'try' - obviously I didn't succeed as I haven't yet mastered the skill of inhaling alcohol. I was also the one who said it would be a totally rad idea to take our bottles of wine with us and try and finish them in the taxi.
This was all well and good until I saw the taxi driver. He was young. He was hot. And he spoke the whole journey about how he likes university girls as they are so much more mature than your average lady. In body I'm nodding along in agreement at this...and in my head all I can hear is 'hahahahahahahahaha'. I'm a terrible human being. Anyway, I'm sure I soon changed his opinion when I asked if he could drop us off round the corner so we could finish our booze. Clearly I've got 'marriage material' written all over me. The rest of the night is a bit of a blur, although I do recall the young, hot taxi driver picking us up to go home and having to pull over as me and Claire were simultaneously sick onto the pavement. I think I'm going to have to review the fact I see myself as classy.
Anyway, I am actually trying to make a point. The next day I told my POF (Plenty Of Fish) boy about my antics. To be honest, I texted him about it without thinking and it was only in the next hour when I didn't receive a reply that I started to worry about my unabashed honesty. Guys say that they want a girl to be straight with them - infact I think everybody appreciates honesty. But do they want me to be honest about the fact I was so drunk I can't remember anything apart from spewing up a mixture of vodka, wine and Aftershock...I'm not so sure. Now, he did text me back - he even made a few jokes about me being 'mangled' and asked how my hangover was. However, paranoia has kicked in and I have a horrible feeling that before my revelations I was easily passing myself off as Scotland's answer to Kate Middleton, whereas now he is probably comparing me to a character from The Scheme. Hopefully not Bullet.
So I don't know guys, do you want honesty about everything or is selective truth telling (aslong as it's not hurting anyone) the best plan? Alternatively I could maybe just not go out and get in a drunken state. In all honesty though, while I am looking for a boyfriend I'm also looking for someone who, in times like these, is there patting my back and holding my hair back. Or at the very least being sick beside me. I'm old fashioned like that.
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