Check It Out, I'm Rockin' Steady

We left school lateish, to catch the train to Fati's. We trudged to her house, dragging all our clothing, sleeping bags, straighteners (yes, I am a girl), mp3 players and copious amounts of makeup in a relatively short time. We headed up to her room, and turned on Green Day (full volume Milton Keynes version. Which I went to, incidently), flashed a torch around, and then raided the kitchen for pizza.

We are so healthy.

After a few minutes of eating at the speed of light, we started to get ready. Mostly wearing other peoples' clothes. But that is life for you. Much eyeliner was plastered on faces, hair straighted, eyeshadow shadowed, and finally we were ready.

We had a lot of time to kill, so we put Monty Python on. Much to Abi's great disgust. Ha. Serves you right, creepy Office lover.

At last it was time to leave, so seven of us clambered into the car designed for four, and we trundled (very slowly) to John's house.

We fell out of the car, looked at the house, saw the crowd outside it, and stood there, mouths open, and looks of worry on our faces. "We're going to get STABBED," screamed a slightly terrified Kris. Grasping hands, we all took a few deep breaths, and dived into the unknown. Or, at least, we attempted to, as there were so many people squished into the hall, that it seemed a hopeless task to even consider getting into the house. After a few odd looks, we managed to force ourselves in, greet the host and his little helper (John and Phil, respectively), and, uh, stood, squashed into the corner for a bit. We decided to go outside, at this juncture, so grabbing our coats, we threw ourselves into the mess of people, and fell outside. Into the cold, cold November air.

A rigorous game of Would You Rather ensued. It emerged that perhaps we would rather have a six year Chemistry lesson with Dr. Mason than be stuck back in there.

We sat out in the cold a bit more, shivering - or, in Kris's case, yelling, "I AM GAY!" to every passerby - and contemplating ways of getting home. We made Kris tell us a ghost story to keep us amused. She ended up lying on the floor, pretending to be dead. As you do, at the end of every ghost story. Yes.

At last Stalker arrived, and we decided that we would brave the party, exchanging the cold, cold wind for a slice of hell. Sigh.

Luckily, when we went back in, the scariness had subsided, and we found ourselves a nice spot, where we were assaulted by a very friendly Louise, and her addiction for email addresses. We moved into the second room, where we stood for a bit.

The party did get a bit better, but you know.

I don't think it helped that Stalker insisted on telling everyone how posh we were. Thank you for that.

And so, we have learnt one thing from this party: I am a bit of a snob. Goddamnit. It wasn't intentional.

We were chucked out, and picked up at 12 by Fati's mother (more car squeezing ensued) and we returned to the abode of the Abidi, made pesto pasta, and settled down to more Monty Python, sleep, and cricked necks.

All in all, it was an experience.

And a half.

And today, I have sitting on babies. So it would be much encouraged to text me as much as humanly possible. Even those of you who I don't like. Yes, that's you, Kris.

Ouch.