I had to write this now...it's almost six in the morning and I haven't gone to sleep yet. Why? Because I am some manner of a crazy party animal, that's why.

Tonight I partook in the activity known as "knacker drinking". I believe it may been in order to make up for all that precious lost time during my teens when I stayed at home playing computer games or watching videos when I should have been in a field drinking Dutch Gold like all the other local yobos.

In the absence of a husband and a wholesome evening in, myself and Anonymous (and, just for the movie, a third friend who happens to be my namesake) toddled along to see The Grudge (second time for me), followed by a fish and chips supper and a rather ridiculous drinking session where we tried to get plastered and failed miserably. Namesake abandoned us for pursuits of academic excellence early in the evening. Some would say she was wise. Others would say, fortunate.

After half a bottle of vodka each and a sufficient number of conversations about God, the universe and the structure of entity, Anonymous and I decided it was time to go out. We wrapped up and embarked into the moonlit glow of Celbridge on a Friday night at 3am. Did I mention we were armed with a bottle of champagne?

In typical teenage fashion, we set off for Castletown House (local palatial mansion) for our debaucherous drinking binge. The highlight was smashing our bottle (naturally in a place where nobody would see or be affected by the glass) and listening to it shatter. HOW HEDONISTIC.

We returned disappointingly sober (damn you fresh air!) and exhausted, and then rummaged around old furniture for small change to make up my taxi fare home (my friend is dropping her baby over tomorrow for me to look after so I probably should be here...). I'm making this sound like it wasn't much fun but it was actually a riot. To quote Anonymous: Hey, I laughed so hard I threw up a little in my mouth. Nice.

That's a text message I'll be keeping. For a day or two.

Me need sleep bed bye bye.