Fuddland

Welcome to 2005 folks. I rang in the New Year at a private party in a gorgeous little country pub in East Sussex, owned and run by the parents of a friend. Open bar, free pool table, a few CD players, a fireworks display just after midnight, and a whole lot of fun. Much nicer and more relaxed than going out in London.

Things were relatively sedate until the Carling ran out and we all had to switch to drinking Stella, on which I’m blaming the subsequent rugby-tackling of the friend who was attacking me with balloons, and the resulting breaking of her ankle bracelet. Still, that was about the worst thing that happened the whole evening, so it was a good night all in all. And now to bed.