Living a five-day weekend is tough, sometimes.

This morning i walk out of my house and bump into Marcelo and Elira.
Immediately, without even saying hello, they tell me: "Don't worry, you didn't do anything last night."
"Why are you telling me this?" i asked.
"Because you asked us to when we saw you yesterday."
"Oh."

So it seems i was drunk last night. No big news, at all. After a while, they tried to explain exactly how drunk i was. It's nice to see your friends compare your different drunkenness exploits, and share Robin-did-this-that-time stories. For the record, i was less drunk than last year's reunion Sangria party, also less than the night Elira met me (the nonchalant way she told me this almost made me feel ashamed. Almost.), but more than several other times. Their analysis didn't clash with my recollections of the night.

Last night, by the way, was Osmizza night. A big fat thirty-or-so of us went up to Medeazza, the wine was just fantastic, so was the food. It was also Fred's last night in Duino this year, but i'm not sure too many people were aware of this, or maybe they were just too drunk. Some nice moments came when the owners of Al Castel and Luca casually walked in, were greeted with cheers to their estabilishment, and eventually bought us more wine. And Paul and Joanna also popped by, which was really nice of them. We've all learnt to appreciate them much, much more in the past year or so. Where we means myself, my family, and the students in general. They're great.

And the previous night...boh, don't remember.
No, actually, it's all coming back to me now. I wasn't even that drunk. But i'll recount in a later instance, after all those photocopies won't milk themselves. And i can feel one of those little gnomes that move the various mechanisms inside the body hammering wildly inside the top left side of my head, trying to fix all the bits that broke down last night. Or maybe just putting up a painting to make it look less empty.