...and I have no one to blame but myself. On Monday night Rob and I slipped into our gladrags, hopped in a taxi and headed to the fabulous and glamourous Good Food Guide awards. 
As well as the wonderful food and wine, it was lovely to catch up with old mates, have a good laugh with some chefs and to see my name in very large letters on a big screen when my fellow reviewers and I were applauded for all our hard work on the book compiling restaurant reviews. Smashing. I started with champagne then switched to cosmos, then to wine, back to champagne, cosmos again - you get the idea. Scarlett called out at 4am having a nightmare about her new ballet shoes and then the javelin landed in my skull. I'm never drinking again - you read it here first. It does not help that I have a streaming cold and possible temperature - that could always be a hot flush, of course.
The woman in the photo above, with Rob, Kendall and Brett is called Laura. She was one of the organisers of the event and by strange coincidence not only lives in our street, but was the woman who approached Rob at our house auction to ask if he needed help after Florence vomited all over me. Small world.
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