Snow, bungled travel plans, and a random kiss

I've had one of those weeks that you want to write home about, but of course I can't. I am not sure the letter would get there (bloody snow!), and God forbid it did, my mother would teleport to where I was and destroy me. Neither works for me.

So I was supposed to be in my tropical paradise but a minor issue of 2 inches of snow, and Heathrow being the most backward airport in Europe, I am most certainly not. I've had 48 hours (and freaking counting) to think about my escapade of a few days ago. Which is probably enough time for me to justify writing about it.

Thursday night. A lot of snow. And the Christmas dinner. It wasn't quite the work Christmas do, but it ended in the same way. The day was horrific, long, with snow, and I was wearing what were meant to be cute librarian-esque heels, but of course were simply a slip-risk, and threatened the integrity of my ankle joints. I made it home in one piece, via M&S for some Prosseco, pre-drinks before the ball and all that. I was so bloody organised I booked the cab two hours before we were due to depart, in case the rush hour and snow meant a paucity of said vehicles. But of course, as fate would have it, the taxi was late, my housemate was late, and the bottle of Prosseco and I were a little too well acquainted. I also had on THE DRESS. I hate to sound cocky, but I really did look fit AS. It was a long black number from FCUK, with a Danny Minogue type boat collar, and backless, with a chiffon mini train arising from the knot at the small of my back. It was a FMD (F- me dress), without looking even remotely slutty. The pink heels achieved the 'questionable morals' look. In hindsight, it probably spelt the start of my life worries.

An hour late to dinner, I rushed in (er staggered) with a gaggle of females in tow, and our token male friend as an escort. The wine was flowing freely: first the white with the fish, then the red with the main, then the crappy dessert that was not consumed. Midway through dinner, a couple of consultants joined our table. A little apprehensive at having to make conversation with them, my friend and I chose to make best of  crappy situation, necked a bottle of red wine in a matter of minutes, added a bottle of rose a little later, and made polite conversation about our future career plans, and the fact that children were not an immediate consideration.

At some point during the conversation, the alcohol severely blunted my capacity to reason, and I dragged, not so much kicking and screaming, my friend to the dance floor where the night became a hazy blur of fun, tears and vodka lemonades. The boys arrived (usually just friends), and plied us with excess amounts of vodka, and then off it was to the club. In between all this, I managed to have a monumental fight with one of the gang, cried, told him how much he had taken our friendship for granted, and then skidded around town in my heels, before heading to the after party.

I had just enough time to disrobe (just the coat) and put my bag and stuff down, before I was summarily pinned to a railing by J. I know he was being affectionate, and the dress may have overpowered his good sense, but bloody hell. It was a proper movie moment. The unexpected kiss. I don't fancy this boy. I didn't consciously seek him out to flirt with him, or get kissed. But it happened. And thank heavens he backed himself to do that, cause it turns out, he is a pretty awesome kisser. One wouldn't expect that to be the case, but it was a fireworks lift-your-left-leg and all, affair. So much so, that despite acknowledging the error of our ways, I just could not not kiss him. The evening ended with us dancing, making out like 16 year olds, with the rest of the boys acting just that age and taking photos on camera phones (a whole other blog). I giggled my way home in a taxi, on my own, kissed, flushed, and having received the ultimate compliment. I felt just a little bit HOT!

Merry Christmas followers, more stories after the holidays, especially if I make it to my tropical paradise! Fingers crossed that travel plans transpire x