The night before I was meant to leave Nelson for Wellington,(and then Auckland, and then the airport)I found myself at the second going-away party thrown by my friends, fellow barstaffers and the bars owner. It began as a pleasant evening, though somewhat dampened by a friends absence.

Earlier in the day I'd gone to visit her at work and found her pale faced and hunched.

"What's wrong Val?" I wondered

"Ohh, just feelin' a bit sick" She said. Because of her thick scottish accent the words sounded delightful though the meaning of them was less so.

"I've bloody thrown up twice today; my brother's sick as well"

I worried about what this meant for my party, since Val was often a good person to have around when you wanted to encourage people to be funny and loud by way of booze. On top of that, if both she and her brother were sick then that meant that her friend and roommate, Maggie, would be taking car of them instead of making things more interesting at the party.

"I'm sure you'll feel better soon" I felt selfishly hopeful.

"Oh, I hope so, I feel like shite, I'm fuckin' projectin' from both ends." she lay on the floor "Oh Madge, I'm sorry. I hope I'll get better by tonight so's I can go to your party but at the mo' I'm not sure I can even stay at work."

"Can I get you..." I watched Val jump from the floor and run down the hallway to the bathroom.

Sounds of vomiting followed. My optimism waned and when she came back I had given up the idea of convincing her to come reguardless of vomit. Instead I called her friend who came to pick her up and hugged them both goodbye, careful to make sure no microbes got into my mouth.


The party was fun reguardless. My boss stayed for a few drinks, told a few of those irish stories that have unpredictable endings and then left, leaving the tab open for us to abuse.

The next day I was awoken by my friend A.J. whose house I'd ended up in. He reminded me that I had a bus to catch and could not be late.
I looked around the room, groggy, unbalanced and still drunk. Rick was laying on the mattress next to me, looking pleased that it was not he who was getting up.
As I stood up I knew it would not be an easy day. I fell back down with the hope that circumstances would change but alas, A.J. showed up a few minuts later.

"I've put your things in my car, are you ready to go?"
I groaned, said goodbye to Rick and made my way to the car.

Once on the bus I felt a little more relieved. At this was familiar territory.
I'd just spent the last month travelling alone around New Zealand by way of bus. Most of that time was spent alchohol-free, but at one point I'd stayed with Val's friends in Queenstown. They were 5 Scottish and Irish lad's that seemed to drink endlessly, eat little and rarely sleep. I'd spent the bus ride leaving Queenstown, much like this one, trying not to make a scene.

I kept my sunglasses and hat on and succeeded in trying to sleep. The ride wasn't long enough for me recover (1 hour as opposed to one day) but I was able to enlist the bus driver to carry my big box to the ferry luggage check-in, something that would have been difficult whether or not I was sick.

I had an hour to wait and I utilized that time by throwing up stomach acid in the public bathroom. I'd reached the point of not caring about public opinion as soon as I'd gotten on the bus. Survival was most important.

After a while the ferry came and I found a quiet seating area in which to lay back and visualize a calm stomach. By this time I was very hungry and very, very thirsty but I knew it was unlikely I would be able to eat for a while.
I took a sip of water which made my acid-torn throat feel good.
The ferry set out and I felt optimistic about the trip. The ferry rocked to one side. It rocked to the other. I clenched my teeth and felt the water I'd drunk sloshing around, aggrivating my insides.
For the 300th time I questioned why I'd gotten so drunk the night before I had an important trip to make. Why Madge, you upchucking fool?

I reached the bathroom, threw my backpack into a stall and shut the door.
As I threw up I heard a strange noise from the stall next to me. It sounded familiar...

The moment struck me with compassion and a bizarre feeling of sisterly love* as we threw up simultaneously to the sound of spashing waves against the rocking boat.




*Perhaps this feeling is familiar to anorexics?