According to Nina’s 8 year old sister Sandra, my blog should start with these lines:
It was a nice sunny day in August. We woke up early to go to the market but then our car broke in the middle of the road.
She had a third sentence ready, but I honestly don’t remember what it was. I should point out that I was hungover at the time.
It started out innocently enough: two pitchers of sangria (one white, one red) with Nina and our friends Erynne and Dharsy (we refer to them as “ED”). There were also lots of snacks: nachos, sweet potato fries, and onion rings. At one point, we contemplated red velvet cupcakes. I’m not sure if that would have helped my later situation or made it worse. Perhaps it’s a good thing we didn’t have too much sugar Friday night.
After leaving ED, Nina and I went to her house where we split a bottle of white wine and she barbequed zucchini (please see her blog post here) and we ate brownies around a fire and it was all very delightful. We were joined by Nina’s sisters – the aforementioned Sandra and the darling middle sister, Anna.
A backyard fire pit! I think I need one of these
By a certain point, we figured we should start heading off to bed (Sandra was already in her room), since we had to be up and about by 8am in order to go the market. I was pleased to find that my bed for the night had Batman sheets!
Who doesn’t love sleeping with Batman?
The next morning, around 7ish (let’s say 7:15), I woke up to the sun streaming through the window. It was going to be a glorious morning. And then I sat up to drink some water. And my head started spinning. And my stomach was all like “whoa girl, maybe you should have had something solid last night”. And my brain was like “this is you drunk”. So I fell back onto the pillows and hoped the room would stop spinning in time for us to go to the market.
What followed thereafter was an excruciating hour or so of trying to eat at least half a slice of toast. As I later explained to Anna, it was like the first day post-flu: you think you’re going to be okay but you’re really lethargic and scared to do anything, just in case. As my title suggests, this was the first time I’ve ever been hungover. There was Labour Day 2012 when I had a lot of scotch and woke up feeling fuzzy and headache-y. But this was the first time I’ve ever felt like death after a night of well-mannered frivolity.
The only consolation was that Nina was also hungover. Except our hangover stages work in opposition to each other: I spent the morning hoping to make it through the rest of the day (we were heading to the Paradise Fears show that night – which I’ll probably blog about tomorrow) alive while she was energetic – and then by the time we got to Toronto, I was finally able to eat without feeling nauseous while she looked like she was going to curl up under the table and take a nap.
Her mother found us incredibly amusing and was fascinated by the entire idea (at one point she curiously asked, “why would you want to do this again?” to which we had no answer. This was right before she said the words “raw egg” and we both gagged).
Finally we were ready to go the market. So we all piled into their car (I currently cannot recall the make of said car), and started driving down the mountain (because Hamilton has a mountain which I always thought was really cool). Then, after about 7 minutes, the car stalled. In the middle of Main Street. A few car lengths away from the traffic lights. There was oil (I assume it was oil, what other fluids are in cars?) leaking out of the front and the hood was smoking a little and we were all too tired to figure out if it was real life or if we were all dreaming the same dream. Then the lovely Mrs Bozzo ran across the intersection to flag down the (unhelpful) CAA van that was parked around the corner and we all cringed and averted our eyes. Eventually a tow-truck showed up and also a police car, and the four of us (Nina, Anna, Sandra, and I) decided to take the bus back to the house.
Of all of us, Sandra was the most stoked since she’s never been on a bus before. So at least we turned it into a positive experience? Plus, by the time we got home, we were all ready for the pea-meal bacon Nina had put in the oven before leaving.
Basically, it was the BEST SLEEPOVER EVER and we can only hope that the next sleepover will be just as exciting (except maybe a little less hungover).