Party like its my birthday

'let's get fucked up' he says, clutching a tray of tequila. My best mate cookie is on a mission; to help me forget my troubles and show me how loved I am, one of the many reasons I adore him! The tequila goes down about as favourably as shards of glass, after all I was drinking whisky for the majority of the previous 48 hours! After sitting on a bus from London for 9 hours, having a panic attack and getting lost and missing my daughter's school concert, this drink was welcoming. I was determined to enjoy every minute and so, armed with my sweet friend Mark and my partner in crime, I threw back the tequila and sucked the lemon, hoping in vain that it wouldn't disagree with me. Cookie made a rule that it was unforgivable to have a second without a drink, so the night had a theme in the form of a 2 drink combo. Enhanced by copious amounts of fishbowls, we assumed that we would never make it past 3am! By 6am, I had been asked for ID, given free drinks, been called stunning, chatted to a very butch, very 'highly scented' woman in the toilet, planned out mark's moves to pull a fit boy, been offered a managerial job, drank champagne, danced terribly and stood in a wannabe posh bar with hundreds of pretentious tossers! Yet I was still going strong. Perhaps a major highlight of the night was drinking with the travelodge staff at 5.30am. Bemused by our silliness, they never even questioned the third member of the party who wasn't booked in, nor did they reprimand Cookie for stealing 'emergency' milk from the breakfast fridge for a very tired and pale looking mark. After posing for ludicrous photographs, sitting down in the lift and yelling through other peoples' hotel windows, we retired to our room. Mark was close to death by this point. What better time to open a birthday present? As we downed several shots of talisker at 6.30am, mark laid on the bed looking forlorn. I insisted that cookie photograph us in a duvet cover and I ran round the room screaming with my ten year malt in hand. We named a stuffed hedgehog 'Simon' and I waltzed about in my 'manjamas' before being forced to take the middle spot in the bed. The straight man, the bi woman and the gay man in a bed - it was beyond hilarious! The two most trustworthy men ever! At around 7.30am it was decided that we were idiotic and essentially must give in to sleep. Between talk of poo, vaginas, love, life and best mates, there was no way we could sleep. Without a clue how it came to it, mark announced that he 'had the flavour of pakistan', resulting in raucous laughter from myself and cookie. This is the last thing I remember before the whisky addled coma took hold. ....fast forward 3 hours and I'm standing on 2 snoring bodies to get out of bed and answer the phone. .....fast forward a further 2 hours and I'm examining a black splice on my cheek, a print on my foot and a black hand. ...... Fast forward an hour and we are in a service station overlooking a lake, chain smoking and throwing egg sandwiches on the floor ... An hour later we've been lost in Bolton .... An hour later we have been in mark's house talking to his dad, me shoeless and now returning to the car ....by 4pm we have stopped off for a beer after getting lost again and cookie has bottom issues By midnight I have a boyfriend. Best birthday ever!!!