dead mouse, uncomfortable snail, seedy me

On Friday when I got home Bela had a dead mouse he was casually flipping around like it was just one of the cool things he was into. I think he had been on this project for some time because I had noticed earlier in the day he had a lot of interest in my coat, on the chair inside the door and I of course had no idea why (and no particular interest). So now he's had his first kill (that we know of) and he strutted around like Scarface for a short time.

Suitably for a house of carnage such as this, there was a snail on the step which seemed terribly unhappy but I couldn't figure it out. I took the recycling out in the morning, and then later saw this snail which seemed to be trying to get out of its shell on the step. I thought I must have run over it with the trolley thing we keep the recycling in, and figured a bird would finish it off any minute. But it was just there straining. I tried to pick it up, and its shell was still intact, but it seemed to puff up which was disturbing so I left it for a while. Finally I went out there and picked it up. It was so odd, it was seemingly trying to crawl over a big prickly seedpod that had either become stuck to it or was in some way obstructing it... most peculiar. Anyway I put it on the grass and figured it had a fighting chance to work out the whole situation. It was gone later.

Yesterday afternoon was the glamorous and glittering wedding reception for Andrew and Katrina. Andrew's and Katrina's speeches were beautiful and they looked very handsome together. I noticed that the two glasses of red I had drunk by this time seemed to be making me ridiculously drunk. I was blabbering and being stupid. I congratulated Andrew's mother on her speech and really had nothing to say. I was a goof. We went back to Michael and Nicola's house and ate borek and then went on to the Old Bar, I started drinking whiskey and that's where things really went downhill; I recall telling Shane and Olivia they should get married - I recall very little overall however. The bands least of all, which is ridiculous, as it was a good line-up.

This morning I was very sad and throwing up. There were the usual stages of a hangover with a few interesting extra elements. One was visions when I closed my eyes of Peter Boothish (but more abstract) scenes of carnage, in black on red. My god! Even now (12 hours later) I don't feel great but I will live, I would say. Randall, Carla and Rupert came round and we went for a walk with the dogs. Rupert was right into the beagles and they were very good with him, although Charlie barked a bit much in the first instance. We all got a lot of mud on our feet.