Maybe I won't do anymore mid-week drinking?

Yesterday after class I went to the bar to cut F's hair, but then someone shouted my name - and it was J, who I went to music college with, who I have been facebook-stalking a little bit. It's been FIVE YEARS since I last saw her, and she's really lovely. I always thought she was one of the coolest people at RCM, not to mention that she was clearly much better at the violin than me (but so was everyone). It was so cool to catch up, and she's invited me to her birthday. I absolutely love bumping into people because it kinda makes up for the fact that I didn't keep in touch with anyone because I am teh loser sometimes.

F decided to pay me for the haircut by buying me lots of beer, which of course meant that I ended up staying in the bar all evening and not doing my homework or going to the gym (though my hip is still very sore, so I couldn't have done it anyway). F is great, he's really one of the nicest people I've ever met, and I told him EVERYTHING and I cried a bit but it was all okay.

A tramp called me a bitch. I was not impressed.

let's just keeping touching, let's just keep singing...

I have come to a very frightening realisation. On the coach on the way home today, it came to me just how bad things have become. Thankfully, I have lost the ability to cry, or I would have cried all the way home. This is deliberately cryptic because I haven't told anyone about this. This afternoon I had a nap and when I woke up I wished I had never been to sleep. How can a dream be so real, and so painful, and so brutally correct about the future? How can that thing have happened in my dream in such a horrific way? I half wish I'd never dreamt it, though really I'd do anything to go back and do it again, even though it was a dream. If there was any chance it could happen in real life, I think I would cry. But it won't, I know it won't. Possibly because it's what I want most. I could scream with how much this is getting to me, and how much I just wish there was even the smallest chance. My mind is going over all the things that have already happened, and try as I might to construct something positive out of it, all I can see is a colourful blur of catastrophe. This is terrible, truly terrible, and if I could stay in bed forever and ever I would crawl in right now, and never go out, and never see anyone again. I feel sick.

On a completely unconnected note, I have had a good weekend. We went to the countryside, to #5's mum's house. #1 and I rocked up there without even washing, so spent the afternoon having a bath and getting ready, and marvelling at the house. In the evening there was a murder mystery party! It was so cool!! It was 1920s themed, and I was a belly dancer. I looked quite ridiculous but it was fun. Everyone was really nicely dressed up, and despite my fear of my own social retardedness, I didn't spaz up too much. At about midnight I found #1 curled up on a bed, so I put her to bed. Lightweight. I had a snog (or ten) with a very attractive 22 year old (kinda young for me!) and his friends took the piss out of me. I like to think I redeemed myself with my words of wisdom later on to an upset girl. I guess while I am not always a nice drunk, I can be nice sometimes. And thankfuly I wasn't the murderer, or the murdered one.

In the morning I woke up on the floor, covered in scratches, next to the boy I'd been snogging. #1 and #5 were in the bed (the bed I should have been sleeping in until I decided I wanted to do a bit of teenage fumbling on the floor!) and they peered over at me and mocked me. I was wearing only my pants and my sleeping bag, so when I stood up to get in the bed (a bit of 3 in a bed mansions love) I flashed everyone. I bet that was appreciated. My hip is extremely painful today because of sleeping on the floor, though it was kinda worth it cos I fell asleep being hugged, which was very very nice. Still, I can now only sleep face down, star shape, which I suppose isn't a good thing.

Ireland beat England in the rugby at Croke Park. Like I even know anything about rugby.

I'm going to go and take some painkillers and go to bed now. I wish I had painkillers strong enough to blot out how I feel inside.

You're like a fucking Jack Russell, you are!

Why is it that when I'm at work I am so tired, and no matter how much really shit coffee (I don't care if it's arabica, it's still shit) I drink, I'm knackered. Then I come home and I'm wide awake.

Also, I'm starting to scare myself with how much I'm drinking.

On the plus side, I have a good costume and I have decided to practice translations by translating whatever #1 says when she's on the phone. This didn't work out well when she had a rant about Maggie Thatcher as I don't know the words for "iron", "milk-snatcher", or "selling out the miners". I guess there is yet work to be done.

I'm feeling sad today, though I like to think I hide it well. I don't want anyone I know to get a boyfriend/girlfriend cos I'll be loneleeeeeee but I think it's a bit late for that. Boo.

Happy Pig Year!

I'm trying to get on top of things domestically tonight. I was talking to M earlier and it turns out I am as bad as a boy what with the lack of laundry and the stack of old newspapers and all that. So I've done some washing and I'm thinking about clearing all the books out of my bed. Only thinking about it obviously.

Things have been reasonably exciting here recently. On Thursday I went to theatre in my new capacity as a theatre critic. Read my review here. Being a press performance, there was free food and wine, and #1 and I made the most of it. We got chatting to some of the actors afterwards, and I got to touch one of them on the leg. We did lots of flirting and then we had a semi-snog but I had a mouthful of chocolate so it was a bit of a disaster. He was hot stuff, mmmm. He had very powerful legs and #1 and I have decided that were I to shag him, it would be the sex of dreams... getting-chucked-about-the-bedroom-in-a-Daniel-Craig-style-sex. Obviously the next day at work I did little else but internet stalk him cos I'm cool like that.

On Friday I went to the ballet, though it wasn't ballet - it was Chinese dance. The first half was modern dance, and it was quite dull. The second half was more ethnographic and it was much more enjoyable. It made me miss dancing a lot. A guy from my culture & society class was there, and he wasn't enamoured - he said the performance reminded him of cheap perfume. But I liked it, it's nice to see things that are a bit different....

... And it was apt because it was Chinese New Year on Sunday. 新年快乐！I went to Chinatown with #1, #5 and #1's friend from work, A. We met P, V, their mum, their other sister and a whole bunch of other people. It was cool, we wandered about and watched the lion dance, and then the fireworks, and had a look at Trafalgar Square (if anyone could tell me why there was a tank there, I would be very happy). We ate at Nando's, with M, then went to the pub, and P came along, and it was all really cool. We had a paper dragon that we have called Dinosaur. Here's a photo of the day:

We look well special.

Anyway, it was really fun, and I did have lots more to write but I've just dyed my hair and I have blue dye all down my face and I am going to have to scrub it off. So that's a good night then...

Miaow.

Christ, I haven't written anything for ages. I haven't done anything particulrakly exciting in the meantime.

It turns out that the time I woke up in the bathroom, I hadn't been there all night. I was in there about 20 minutes, and I was talking to #5 the whole time. I can only think that I was sleepwalking, there is no logical explanation for why I would have taken my duvet in the bathroom and slept under the sink. Plus, I often talk in my sleep and surely if I can do that, I can walk? I only hope I have not been doing other crazy shit in my sleep. G always used to laugh at me when I talked in my sleep. Especially the time I called him a wanker. And the time when I fell out of bed onto a crate of beer and slept there.

I need to get dressed and go to school. I will write later, as I have plenty to say about my NEW CAREER and the HOT HOT ACTOR I SNOGGED. (not that I'm boasting obviously)

The long awaited update

This morning I was woken up by #5 telling me that she needed the bathroom. I thought this was odd, but on opening my eyes it became apparent that I was in fact in the bathroom. Curled up under the sink. With my duvet.

If anyone could explain this to me, that would be awesome. I have no recollection of how I got there.

Today I met up with N, which was nice. I hadn't seen him in months and months, and it was cool to catch up, of which there was plenty to do. He didn't know about me moving to Hong Kong, about the Daisy thing, or anything about SOAS. I thought it might be a bit weird, but it wasn't actually. Though it's always a bit weird to spend time with someone who you used to know well, an that you spent lots of time with. You feel a bit like you're watching your old life through a window. I certainly didn't feel I could be as open with him as I am with some of my other friends, though I never did feel I could. It feels weird now that we were so inseperable, as we actually don't have a lot in common. Even the way we see things is completely different. Quite dramatically so. Nonetheless, it was fine, and we had lunch (where I stuffed my face, student that I am) and then we went to the Hogarth exhibition at the Tate. I don't know a lot about art, or Hogarth specifically, though I did see a programme on TV once that featured "Gin Lane". I liked the more satirical stuff, and wasn't a huge fan of the paintings of the rich and famous. N said that the paintings looked bad because all the people were English and pale and therefore unattractive, which I thought was a bit rude considering that I am one of the palest people I know.

Anyway, the week has been quite fun. On Monday I went to V's gig, which was fun. P's mum was there too, so I got to meet her. She's adorable! It was cool to meet P's friends as well, and to spend some bloody time with him, which I haven't managed since he retreated into the world of the essay of doom. V was on top form, both playing/singing and generally. On Tuesday there was nearly a fracas in my Mandarin class. Our teacher isn't very nice to us :o( It was all quite eventful. Later on, in my Anthropology class, we got to talk about sex. You'd think that would be perfect for me, but actually it wasn't. I got quite bored, and then I got annoyed because some people were looking at me like I was a depraved whore, completely lacking any morals. This wasn't exactly what I was looking for given that I'm feeling pretty shit about myself lately. To be honest, I don't think I ever want to have sex again. I have lost all my motivation to do anything, and I certainly don't feel attractive. I mean, I look okay, I'm dressing reasonably well at the moment (well, nothing indecent and nothing too childish), I have nice hair (though need to dye my roots).... But I don't feel attractive sexually. I guess I could just about have sex with G, because that's more familiar than actually sexual. This is a really sad state to be in at the age of 22.

Tuesday and Wednesday passed in a sort of uni-work-drama rehearsal blur, though I did manage to fall asleep in the common room. On Thursday it SNOWED so it was all very exciting, plus the inevitable transport chaos that left me standing at the train station for over an hour. My toes were so cold that I thought they might have to be amputated. I told work that this was a joke, and that I would be in the next day, and they said fine. So I set off for SOAS (I had to be there in 5 hours, so thought it best to get started early), and on the way I bought some clothes. Mmmm Uniqlo. If I can lose about half a stone then my new clothes will look lovely. Anyway, went to class, went to Kings Cross and was able to get a train absolutely fine because there was no bloody snow at all, and I got a little bit confused that maybe I had imagined it all??

The best thing of the week was that I went to see my youngest brother in a music competition, and he won!! He played amazingly. I nearly cried, I was so proud of him. He's not little anymore, he's a proper adult, and he's so talented. I'm proud of both my brothers and I'm very happy to have them both. (I never believed I would think that!!)

The sweepstake

We've started the Camp Mansions Lay-a-Man Sweepstake.

Every month we have to put in a quid, as well as whatever else we can find, and the first one of us to get laid gets the whole lot! It has to be a new conquest, and charity shags don't count. We haven't discussed rohypnol but I guess that's not allowed either. It has to be full sex, not just a blow job.

I really want to win! But the chances are slim...

lovers on the backseat

Meh I feel weird. And my headphones are broken. I did something really stupid yesterday but I don't actually feel that bad about it, I feel quite good. Which is bad, cos if you knew what it was, you would think I was a complete moron. Which is why I'm not telling anyone.

Last night I went to A's house, where we ate lots of cheese and cake and stuff. On the way home, there was a group of people who'd obviously been out clubbing and were pretty spangled, on their way to the 414 (a sure sign of being spangled) and they were playing music out of their phones and trying to rave to it. One of them told a joke: "What kind of key can open any door?" - answer: "A pikey". I found this funny cos they all had proper Essex accents and I know not a few people would have called them pikey.

Today I went to Brockwell Park and it was awesome. There's a lake, a secret garden, a cafe, some swans, a BMX park, and a miniature railway!!!!! I can't believe I've lived here over a year and have only been to the park three times. Tomorrow I might take my thermos and a book.

I am so bored.

yo yo pot pot

I think the novelty of having a job is wearing off. I wish it was summer and I could sit around and read books and be teh intellectual (I started reading Rousseau but already I think he's a bit of a nob, despite my condemnation yesterday for criticism as a negative influence on society). Good thing about my job is that I don't have to look smart. Just as well, as I managed to tip hot oil over my only smart trousers. I knocked over the frying pan and burnt my leg, which was quite funny as #1 had to take my trousers off.

Yesterday I had a really nice day, but the comedy highlight was when I was asked by my potential future housemate (and possible future husband) whether I was a feminist. Welcome to my world.

In other news, singing Queen on the tube will get you funny looks. Try it.