Okay so I finally feel recovered enough to post about the weekend.

And what a weekend it was...

Rocking the Daisies 2009 was a little more chilled than last year – everyone kind of just doing their own thing, lying by the dam, napping, listening to the music. None of the 10 am funnelling or falling asleep clutching an empty tequila bottle that characterised 2008's debaucherous festival (only the second part of that was me, I swear).

Even better, there was none of that pesky mud, and the portaloos were actually bordering on hygenic, so that was nice. Really nice.

Seattle coffee was a godsend too. As was a bacon-and-egg-and-toast breakfast on Saturday morning courtesy of Simone and Shannon. Thanks guys. You are, hands down, the knees of the bees.

Of course, the icing on the cake (I can't use the cherry-on-top metaphor, like ever, because I don't actually like cherries) was spending the weekend with Boyfriend. Sadly our usual four days together are being shaved down to barely 48 hours lately. Long distance...don't try it at home kids.

So now for a little numbery numberness:

Number of hours spent searching for wellies I didn't actually need: too many. And then there was no mud after all. Fuck murphy. (Sorry, last 'fuck' for the week I promise.)

Number of self-administered anti-histamine eyedrops: about a bottle. Pretty much abused them, but what with the sneezing and the itchy eyes and the runny nose, well ... how can you stick to the three-a-day prescribed amount? I mean really now. Rocking the Hayfever ... sigh.

Number of vodka redbulls/limes/lemonades (not all together obviously) consumed: innumerable.

Number of showers: one. Can you handle it? This is me we're talking about.

Number of painful oddly shaped sunburns: zero. Laugh all you want at my SPF 50, I will not be having a repeat of the ankle embarrassment.