Eurgh! It's Wednesday. Official come-down day. I'm at work, trying to be smiley to all the people around me. They're not falling for it. Someone's already said that I look like I could do with a doughnut, and it was definitely not because I need fattening up any more. I only have myself to blame of course.
The Boyf and I went to Manchester for the weekend for Pride, which rounded off a very proud year for us. Having never been to a Pride event I was in danger of losing my GayCard so The Boyf and I did all the major ones this summer. I'd never been to Manchester before and was actually pleasantly surprised. Ok, so I didn't really see much apart from Canal Street and the inside of various bars and clubs, and much of that seeing was through a haze of alcohol and/or various drugs, but it had a really nice vibe about it. The people seemed really nice, we made some new friends, and I can't remember huge chunks of the early hours of Sunday night/Monday morning, so it must have been good. Apparently at one point a small dog freaked me out and I hid my head under The Boyf's armpit for 30 minutes, but fortunately this was in someone's flat and not in a bar.
At one point we wandered into a club (actually some sort of underground carpark with speakers) to find the place heaving with leather-clad humpies. I was initially rather intimidated, being the shy timid thing that I am (cough), but I soon got into the swing of things. In fact I was just about to get into the swing of things in a more literal way when the guys we were with decided we were leaving. Probably for the best really, as I needed to be able to sit down for the journey home.
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