Technology You Are My Bitch

On Saturday night I got drunk and discovered that I can do technology. I have discovered a new mathematical theroem:

Gin + Me = technological wizardry the likes of which has never been seen.

In other words I managed to post some pictures onto my blog. Other people have been doing this since the mid-1800s, but I have long since learned that just because other people can do things it does not necessarily mean that I will be able to do them. (See: long division. Also: eating parsley.)

I went out with the group of people I went to Biarritz with, and we decided that it was only fitting to continue the tradition we lovingly initiated on holiday of drinking gin and tonic at an alarming pace until our heads fell off/they ran out of gin at the bar, whichever came first. It was brilliant fun, and I think that despite some hazy memories of other people podium dancing, thankfully nobody thought to give me a leg up because I would have joined them, no question, had I thought about it.

At one point I took my drink back to the bar, claiming wildly that I could not taste the gin, and that it must only be tonic. The bar lady looked at me for a moment, and then after a pause she shrugged, took my glass from me and poured about another two shots in. I gratefully took it back off her, tasted it, and lo and behold, it was about ten million percent proof. Excellent, I thought, and proceeded to boast about it to all my friends, who were either silently impressed or didn't care at all. It was a real highlight for me, though.

With that being the general feeling of the entire evening, I rolled home to my flat at about three, and decided that it was the perfect moment to upload photos onto my blog. I am pleased that, despite my gin-soaked state, I didn't accidentally post the shots that I usually reserve for my other site. The naked one. You would have been horrified. I cannot quite believe I managed to do it, I even cropped and things. Gin is clearly a catalyst for inspired and unbounded genius.

Tom went to New Zealand on Saturday, so he can get things all neat and tidy for me next week, get the snow all perfect and the sky all crispy. My flight leaves on Saturday, and so far my preparations have consisted of feelings of guilt that I haven't tidied my room in two weeks and therefore have no idea where anything is, and feelings of dread, because Tom emailed me to say that they are showing Mission Impossible 3 on the flight over there, and Tom Cruise makes my skin fall off in horror and revulsion.

Anyway, thanks for saying nice things about the photos. I am very, very proud of myself for my technological prowess, some might say disproportionately so, but to those people I gesture rudely and ill-befitting a lady such as myself.

I am going to go and recreate the exact conditions of my victory and then do something else I have never really been able to do, like maths without crying, or sewing without resorting to the familiar comforts of the stapler.

(Oh, see below for photos, if you haven't already printed them out and stuck them on your wall.)