Dear Liver, Please Forgive Me...

I haven't travelled for a while.  I think the last trip was my cowgirl adventure around the state with my mate Wend, where I got to explore the world of camp-drafting.

Conference lolly jars

So I was pretty chuffed when, last weekend, I headed up to the Gold Coast for a conference with my writing sister-hood, the Romance Writers of Australia.  Book Thingo has a great round up of events, I have only vague memories of things mentioned in the sessions due to having a hangover for most of it. Okay all of it.

Yes. Alcohol was involved.

Everyone takes pics of MacGyver snogging
right? right?

And whilst it may sound like I drank excessively, I didn't.  But, all those years of pissing it up when I was in my twenties caught up with me back in 1998 (the day after I drank the Lindfield soccer team under the table), and now as I venture into my forties, five glasses of champagne (tight arse hotel sized glasses) over a five hour period leaves me seedy and irritable the next day.

We reap what we sow, it seems.

I want to go back :(

Late nights and drinking weren't happy just pissing off my liver and making me hate life, oh no. Next up was a dose of tonsillitis so bad that when it came to flying home I didn't care if the plane crashed or not, as exploding into a ball of fire would make it stop feeling like I was swallowing razor blades.

Woe was me.

I took a lot of great stuff from the conference, and I'll write a post about it later in the week.  But the main message was that I AM GETTING OLD.

And if I am not tucked up in bed by 8pm with a cup of chamomile tea then my body exacts a terrible revenge.

sigh.