So I got drunk last night

Well, this as you have probably realized if you know me well enough. Does not happen very often. In fact, it only happens once in a blue moon.

Previously- once every 7 years.  Well. That is drunk till shit-faced and puking my guts out all the way through the next day. (Happened this year on my birthday actually. Had to be carried out of filter! O_O So tak glam. And thanks MBF for NOT having designer muscles, and actually being able to carry me down those perilous stairs to my full puking glory in the planters. Le sigh.)

Either way, a good drunk high- with hangover next day. This.. was a first. In ages.

So, there I was. Drunk. The first time since.. probably.. I was 18 or so. And I got home at about 4am in the morning. After hunting around in my cavernous bag- hard enough to do if you are a woman looking for keys, let alone drunk with 10 thumbs- I realised.. NADA. Nope. The search was futile. Didn't even hear the familiar jingle jangle of the keys in my two bags.

So... I put my thinking cap on.

Please be very aware. This cap. Was drenched in alcohol. Dom to be precise. Apparently- even though I usually am tipsy with half a glass or two. I managed to drown a bottle of dom. And a couple shots of jaeger. And Belvedere. But who's counting. O_O

Either way I digress.

By the way- did I mention what I was wearing?

First- we have a very cool slightly revealing cropped singlet tank from xfemmex. Totally comfy. Its pretty bare on the sides. I had to tape it to prevent some sideboob action.

Then I had on Jayson Brunsdon gold highwaisted pants. Very gold. Very bling.

Here's sorta a pictorial guide of how I looked..

Here's me with Magic Babe Ning and JC Sum when they
bumped into me at Ion Orchard when I was filming earlier

Here's a screen shot of me earlier in the day during interviews,
so you can see how low the armholes go. YUP. Looooow. And airy.

Any way. 

So now you have a mental idea of what I was wearing.

Picture me. After all the aforementioned alcohol in my system. On a weird, and definitely atypical night out with MBF on a Wednesday night. Where after work, we went to Tamarind Hill for its launch (very nice place, just a little out of the way) - and they were serving wine in goblets filled TO THE BRIM.

Followed by dry mee sua at North Bridge Road's BK Eating House. (Some lining for the stomach at least.)

Followed by a quick pop by 28 HK which we haven't gone to in AGES and we used to practically be there 3 or 4 nights a week for a Bee's Knees and an Old fashioned and a quick catch up on each others gossip. (Yes- the pouffy sounding one was for me. But TH finished most of it.)

And then... we arrived at Mink.

This, mind you, is where it gets all hazy.

I remember another one of those HUGEASS Belv Vodkas. And for some reason.. many many sparklers.

And dancing on podiums.

And saying that we'd eat at Spize.

But we all landed up heading back home.. TILL..

Yes. Go back up to scene where I am out of cab. Outside my house at 4am. Drunk. No Keys. And.. too embarrassed to wake anyone up to open the door for me.

Firstly cos my phone had run out of battery and it would have to actually yell the house down to get anyone to open the door, and also cos well.. I was drunk. At 33. Outside my house. With no keys. *facepalm*

Thinking cap. Soaked in alcohol.

So. Sara gets a brilliant plan!!!

I decide to go through my bedroom window!

Yes! Its the most natural thought in the world for ALL NORMAL FEMALE 33-YEAR-OLDS. But of course!

What's that you say? No? You don't think so? Well. Apparently you weren't saying this loud enough for drunk sara last night. Because that's exactly what I did.

Or. Attempted.

So first. Aforementioned window...

Cue appropriate dramatic reveal sound effects.

Yes. It is pretty far off the ground.

 And it is narrow. While it might be about.. 1 m high. It also is only about 20 cm wide.

What in heaven's name possessed me to think that I could actually get through this....

Once again.

Let me remind you.

Thinking cap. Soaked. Alcohol.

Brain not working so good.

Well. At least it was working well enough for me to start hurling my stuff into the window first. So I wouldn't be encumbered with more things to weigh me down. But that was it for brilliant ideas and planning. 

So. Being pretty far off the ground. Drunk sara tries to HOIST herself up. I am surprised that with the grunts and groans this incited, that my mom was not standing in the bedroom, lights on, and staring at me within minutes with her "What are you doing and what time is it, do you think this house is a hotel"-face on. And as my powerplates or any trainers for that matter will tell you- my arms, are not exactly my best strengths, so this, might have lasted longer than the 2 minutes I think I gave it. But needless to say, was a fruitless attempt.

Not that its that easy to hoist a drunk self onto/into such a narrow ledge any way. (Self-consolation attempt here.)

So... Sara thought of ANOTHER brilliant plan.

Let's forage for something in the back!

Joy of joys.. I found an empty RED PAIL. 

How I could tell it was a red pail in my drunk stupor, I cannot tell you. I'm just glad I did not get bitten by a centipede or any creepy crawlies that I wouldn't have been able to see in that lighting any way.

Congratulating myself then at my quick thinking, giving myself mental pats on the back, I overturned the bucket, and used that as a ledge.

Yup. Not helping.

It was waaaaay too short.

I gave it one LAST try on the pail. Pushed myself up. Wiggled the top half of my body through the window. KICKING the bucket over, positively causing a ruckus and then realising....

I.

WAS.

STUCK.

Yes.

My brilliant brain had forgotten that my Indian hips WOULD NOT in any way, shape, or form, be able to squeeze through a 20cm hole.

This ain't childbirth here. Windows. Are NOT. Expandable.

So there I was, top torso, feeling good about myself because I was halfway to my destination flopping to freedown on the otherside. Stomach like a fulcrum, balancing on the window ledge. But my hips, and my gold-pants-wrapped ass, stuck outside of the window, like a giant ferrero rocher with legs.

Yes. Complete with nuts. 

As I am.

Le sigh.

Can I just add. Here is when my dog Mumble, wakes up and looks at me from my bed, with this "err.... dafuq? What are you doing woman?" face. Like I'm the stupidest human being on the planet. While he languishes. On MY bed. No help from the ungrateful dog who we took in. NAH-UH. He just cast aspersions with his little beady doggy eyes.

So judgemental I tell you. 

Nothing like a little dog stare to reduce you to feeling like even more of a turnip. Well. To be honest, I think I felt more like a plump radish at that point. But let's not argue roots while my ass is still waggling in its full golden glory outside my window.

And quite honestly.. with the amount of noise I made, I am surprised none of the neighbours woke up to instagram  this.. momentous occasion.

-_-

Anyhoos. I knew it was "Time for a rethink."

Which trust me...

Isn't easy when your head, and your ass, are in different places. And alcohol is coursing through your whole body. And making you feel queasy in the stomach. Which of course, is the thing which is pivoting you on the ledge so the pressure isn't exactly pleasant. BUT, you are at least, with enough alcohol to make you comprehend the absurdity of the situation, enough to have a little giggle. Which then makes you want to pee, so you know you have to get into action soon. SO...

With a few wiggles and wriggles. I managed to, thankfully. POP! And land back on the ground with a reasonably muffled thud.

I know. Most of you were hoping I would land on my ass. Sorry to disappoint you masochists.

Meanwhile.. Wheels in Sara's brain are starting to once again, start turning. Albeit, very slowly. 

I weighed out the pros and cons of using the different things around me. But I wasn't exactly spoilt for choice.

Rubbish bin. Open. Full. And very light. Probably would topple over.

Plant pot with bouganvillea. Might get poked in the eye with pokey bush. Or get stung by creepy crawlies. Too heavy. Too much effort.

Ok people. Dustbin it is.

So I lined them up..

First testing the dustbin.

Nope... It definitely COULD NOT take my weight. I did contemplate turning it upside down for a more stable platform. But I really did not want to have to deal with the consequences of having my mom ask me in the morning what were all the leaves she swept up from the garden doing back... in the garden right under my window.

I harnessed the powers of any sort of atheleticism I had left in my alcohol-soaked-ahjumma bones... 

And I have no idea how.. But I did this super cool light as one of those characters in Kungfu panda type hops on pail, bounce off dustbin, land sideways in window and topple onto bed....

AND TAAADAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!

I MADE ITTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!

I flopped onto the bed. 

With all the excitement of making my way in, I was so drained I barely got my makeup off before I K-Oed. 

Window 1- Sara 0.

And I am so not planning on a rematch.