Bollocksbuggaryfuck. I went into work and I was still drunk.
Whilst that would be a good post on its own merits, the last few days have had so many adventures and fun times that I feel I should post an introduction of sorts; just how I ended up in Homebase still quite giggly and falling over chairs.
Allow me to draw your attention, dear readers, to a time I've seen too often in the last week; pre-7am. I have discovered, over years of careful research, that I can be ready to leave the house in twenty minutes including washing my hair as long as I give up on the eating and make-up ideas. Both work well for me. But there I was on Thursday evening. I had prepared myself for the forthcoming day, but I did, in fact, need to eat and wake myself up a bit first. I woke up at 6.45am and actually got out of bed. Go me! When I came upstairs (our shower is downstairs) from the shower, I put on the radio and dressed. Chris Moyles was playing Relax by Frankie Goes To Hollywood, followed by Take Me Out by Franz Ferdinand. This, I felt, boded well for the day ahead, so it was with a spring in my step that I embarked on my trip to Manchester through the darkened playing fields. I made it to Ormskirk station. I purchased a ticket, I sat down on the train, I met Jess at Aughton. As mornings go, it was going well. We made it to Liverpool exactly on time, we walked across to Lime Street, we gaily asked for a return ticket to Manchester...
... we both had studenty heart failures. £9.80! To get to Manchester! OMGWTF? After we stopped panicking, we purchased tea and tried to look cosmopolitan whilst surreptitiously checking if we'd burnt our tongues. I actually have taken the top layer off my tongue. This is not nice.
So, there we were on a train to Norwich (fear not, it was stopping at Manchester, we're not that stupid) with the faintest feeling we were on An Adventure. And actually, we had a fabulous day. We arrived at Manchester to see roughly half of those 25 who were coming along. Elaine decided that she would, y'know, get on a train with the rest of everyone else which would break down in Wigan to result in them being horrendously late. Somehow, fifteen argumentative politics students had to find their way to a new place in Manchester - in a middle of at least one gay district, natch - to do with Trade Unions.
We made it. Somehow. Loudly.
And there we were. We all stripped coats off to reval a combination of tasteful blokes in shirts/blazers/jenas combos, or cool alternative-esque clothing. Girls were... well, pretty much the same with one or two more skirts. Then we looked around the room. You can identify most politics students by what we were dressed in. It just happens. It's part of the course. Yet we were surrounded by gold chunky earrings. Tracksuits. Bellytops. Slowly, we realised that possibly we weren't quite the people they wanted at this conference, especially when Elaine and Co turned up and we applauded them with Winstanley Mafia Unity. We always do this - despite internal debates, we'll all work together in an attempt tofight crime show that we're quite nice people. We all got put into groups after the introduction by a prick of a New Labour MP with members from the other schools. It was me and some bloke I don't know from college versus citizenship students. I need say no more. We had two debaes - smoking in pulic places and women in lower paid public sector work. The first was in the morning... and I got up to speak.
Apparently, I'm very theatrical. "And I urge you, my fellow workers, I urge you to vote for this proposal!"
However, the debate was.. peculiar. We were quoting John Stuart Mills. Paraphrasing Lenin. Talking about laissez-faire government. And the others... weren't.
Well, go us indeed. Lunch was good - free with a delicious cheesecake - and then off we went again for the second debate. Also rather good albeit confusing fun.
Then we left, and Jess and I jumped onto a train to Lime Street. Except, of course, for the fact it was jampcked the whole way home. Bleargh. I was panicking that Hannah's present would get broken, but fortunately it didn't.
Went to Conway Park with slightly less spring. I was tired and I wanted to sleep and go home, except then I remembered that it was a Resident Lunatic meet up, and undomesticated equines could not drag me away. I bounced a bit and met Clareyperson, with Super!Ron. A little while later, Iona turned up and like good friends we went to meet Hannah at the bus station, away from the car. 45 minutes later, we get a text message from Hannah informing us that Ron was unlocked so she's been sitting there for ten minutes. Doh! We then went to buy alcohol and Pringles - guess which we had the most of - taking advantage of Clare's discount at Asda. It is most fabulous. We then went to Clare's house and exchanged presents. Hannah loved her present, so I felt all glowy insie. Clare, Iona and I all clubbed together to buy her Alyson Hannigan's autograph, and she went all quiet before saying "I love you guys..." in a much less cheesy way than it sounds. Aww!
Then, frankly, we got drunk. Really, really drunk. I said I wouldn't, but eh. I lied. We listened to the birthday CDs for Hannah and Clare, and bounced around to Yellow Submarine, danced to Star Trekkin' and sang along to everything else. "I've got to get the Snitch!" This is the level of my life, and bigods I love it...
Emily, looking terrifed and sober, turned up a little while later, and we had to keep her sober so even later on she could pick up Enid. When Enid came, it seemed like the party was complete. We sat in the conservatory and drank champagne whilst sprawling over each other in the incestuous and comfortable way we are. We got emotional, and sobbed in a "I'LL MISS YOU GUYS!" way, and discussed plans for a summer holiday. Then we got really, really drunk, and the floor seemed like a sensible option. Hannah and Enid took photos (evil, evil women, the pair of them) and I will post the more interesting ones up soon. There's one of me on the floor, apparently, or there was last night.
At 2.30am, we went on a walk. You know, because we could, really. We tried to balance on the kerbs. We failed. Spectacularly. Then we came back, I tried to steal Iona's fabulous dominatrix boots, and then we ended up going to bed at about 3.30am. We didn't stop drinking until we passed out. Well, when Emily literally fell asleep where she was sitting. I was amused.
Woke up at 7.30am on the floor, having fallen there during the nap that was my nights sleep, and swore quite a lot. My head was really rather sore, but I was still quite drunk. I suspect Clare was too, but she drove us well to the station. God, we are all actually going to die in a car crash, aren't we? Hence my frantic conversion and muttering the Hail Mary in the front seat.
Dropped Hannah off as she had to work, and then Enid and I travelled across thw Wirral to Liverpool for our appropriate trains. I tried to sleep on the way back to Ormskirk, as I was alone and my head felt heavy, but everytime I shut my eyes I felt terribly sick. I ended up travelling for twenty minute staring resolutely at my knees and telling myself I wouldn't be sick. It worked. I wasn't.
With no spring in my step, I went home, feeling tired, exhausted and slightly drunk, and also probably looking a little bit like a tramp, what with my crazy hair and general wild-eyedness. Came home, and had thirty minutes to prepatre myself for work.
This post started off so much better. I swear, it's a literary device, showing the general breakdown of my brain this morning. So there I was at 10.30am, four hours sleep under my belt, and enough vodka to feed the Russian army in my stomach. I got in the car to go to work. I sat in work, 10% Day no less, and I really was still drunk. I wish I was joking. I could feel myself sobering up around 1pm, which unfortunately was just in time for the rush of people. BAH!
Now, thank god, I am at home again. My name is Colleen, I am an alcoholic and I had a fabulous Friday of debating, train, vodka, birthdays, snuggling and seeing my friendses again. And tomorrow is training, in which I will have had lots of sleep and by ready for it. I'm not joking. I'm off to bed now. I'm so pathetic. But I don't care!
~Hathy_Col~
Whilst that would be a good post on its own merits, the last few days have had so many adventures and fun times that I feel I should post an introduction of sorts; just how I ended up in Homebase still quite giggly and falling over chairs.
Allow me to draw your attention, dear readers, to a time I've seen too often in the last week; pre-7am. I have discovered, over years of careful research, that I can be ready to leave the house in twenty minutes including washing my hair as long as I give up on the eating and make-up ideas. Both work well for me. But there I was on Thursday evening. I had prepared myself for the forthcoming day, but I did, in fact, need to eat and wake myself up a bit first. I woke up at 6.45am and actually got out of bed. Go me! When I came upstairs (our shower is downstairs) from the shower, I put on the radio and dressed. Chris Moyles was playing Relax by Frankie Goes To Hollywood, followed by Take Me Out by Franz Ferdinand. This, I felt, boded well for the day ahead, so it was with a spring in my step that I embarked on my trip to Manchester through the darkened playing fields. I made it to Ormskirk station. I purchased a ticket, I sat down on the train, I met Jess at Aughton. As mornings go, it was going well. We made it to Liverpool exactly on time, we walked across to Lime Street, we gaily asked for a return ticket to Manchester...
... we both had studenty heart failures. £9.80! To get to Manchester! OMGWTF? After we stopped panicking, we purchased tea and tried to look cosmopolitan whilst surreptitiously checking if we'd burnt our tongues. I actually have taken the top layer off my tongue. This is not nice.
So, there we were on a train to Norwich (fear not, it was stopping at Manchester, we're not that stupid) with the faintest feeling we were on An Adventure. And actually, we had a fabulous day. We arrived at Manchester to see roughly half of those 25 who were coming along. Elaine decided that she would, y'know, get on a train with the rest of everyone else which would break down in Wigan to result in them being horrendously late. Somehow, fifteen argumentative politics students had to find their way to a new place in Manchester - in a middle of at least one gay district, natch - to do with Trade Unions.
We made it. Somehow. Loudly.
And there we were. We all stripped coats off to reval a combination of tasteful blokes in shirts/blazers/jenas combos, or cool alternative-esque clothing. Girls were... well, pretty much the same with one or two more skirts. Then we looked around the room. You can identify most politics students by what we were dressed in. It just happens. It's part of the course. Yet we were surrounded by gold chunky earrings. Tracksuits. Bellytops. Slowly, we realised that possibly we weren't quite the people they wanted at this conference, especially when Elaine and Co turned up and we applauded them with Winstanley Mafia Unity. We always do this - despite internal debates, we'll all work together in an attempt to
Apparently, I'm very theatrical. "And I urge you, my fellow workers, I urge you to vote for this proposal!"
However, the debate was.. peculiar. We were quoting John Stuart Mills. Paraphrasing Lenin. Talking about laissez-faire government. And the others... weren't.
Well, go us indeed. Lunch was good - free with a delicious cheesecake - and then off we went again for the second debate. Also rather good albeit confusing fun.
Then we left, and Jess and I jumped onto a train to Lime Street. Except, of course, for the fact it was jampcked the whole way home. Bleargh. I was panicking that Hannah's present would get broken, but fortunately it didn't.
Went to Conway Park with slightly less spring. I was tired and I wanted to sleep and go home, except then I remembered that it was a Resident Lunatic meet up, and undomesticated equines could not drag me away. I bounced a bit and met Clareyperson, with Super!Ron. A little while later, Iona turned up and like good friends we went to meet Hannah at the bus station, away from the car. 45 minutes later, we get a text message from Hannah informing us that Ron was unlocked so she's been sitting there for ten minutes. Doh! We then went to buy alcohol and Pringles - guess which we had the most of - taking advantage of Clare's discount at Asda. It is most fabulous. We then went to Clare's house and exchanged presents. Hannah loved her present, so I felt all glowy insie. Clare, Iona and I all clubbed together to buy her Alyson Hannigan's autograph, and she went all quiet before saying "I love you guys..." in a much less cheesy way than it sounds. Aww!
Then, frankly, we got drunk. Really, really drunk. I said I wouldn't, but eh. I lied. We listened to the birthday CDs for Hannah and Clare, and bounced around to Yellow Submarine, danced to Star Trekkin' and sang along to everything else. "I've got to get the Snitch!" This is the level of my life, and bigods I love it...
Emily, looking terrifed and sober, turned up a little while later, and we had to keep her sober so even later on she could pick up Enid. When Enid came, it seemed like the party was complete. We sat in the conservatory and drank champagne whilst sprawling over each other in the incestuous and comfortable way we are. We got emotional, and sobbed in a "I'LL MISS YOU GUYS!" way, and discussed plans for a summer holiday. Then we got really, really drunk, and the floor seemed like a sensible option. Hannah and Enid took photos (evil, evil women, the pair of them) and I will post the more interesting ones up soon. There's one of me on the floor, apparently, or there was last night.
At 2.30am, we went on a walk. You know, because we could, really. We tried to balance on the kerbs. We failed. Spectacularly. Then we came back, I tried to steal Iona's fabulous dominatrix boots, and then we ended up going to bed at about 3.30am. We didn't stop drinking until we passed out. Well, when Emily literally fell asleep where she was sitting. I was amused.
Woke up at 7.30am on the floor, having fallen there during the nap that was my nights sleep, and swore quite a lot. My head was really rather sore, but I was still quite drunk. I suspect Clare was too, but she drove us well to the station. God, we are all actually going to die in a car crash, aren't we? Hence my frantic conversion and muttering the Hail Mary in the front seat.
Dropped Hannah off as she had to work, and then Enid and I travelled across thw Wirral to Liverpool for our appropriate trains. I tried to sleep on the way back to Ormskirk, as I was alone and my head felt heavy, but everytime I shut my eyes I felt terribly sick. I ended up travelling for twenty minute staring resolutely at my knees and telling myself I wouldn't be sick. It worked. I wasn't.
With no spring in my step, I went home, feeling tired, exhausted and slightly drunk, and also probably looking a little bit like a tramp, what with my crazy hair and general wild-eyedness. Came home, and had thirty minutes to prepatre myself for work.
This post started off so much better. I swear, it's a literary device, showing the general breakdown of my brain this morning. So there I was at 10.30am, four hours sleep under my belt, and enough vodka to feed the Russian army in my stomach. I got in the car to go to work. I sat in work, 10% Day no less, and I really was still drunk. I wish I was joking. I could feel myself sobering up around 1pm, which unfortunately was just in time for the rush of people. BAH!
Now, thank god, I am at home again. My name is Colleen, I am an alcoholic and I had a fabulous Friday of debating, train, vodka, birthdays, snuggling and seeing my friendses again. And tomorrow is training, in which I will have had lots of sleep and by ready for it. I'm not joking. I'm off to bed now. I'm so pathetic. But I don't care!
~Hathy_Col~
no subject
Date: 2004-11-28 01:23 pm (UTC)That reminds me; I really must find a Sue to post up to Deleterius. Bah, people are so nasty. I just might get militant about Sues again, it's quite fun.
Swords; as I said, they need to be battle safe. The LOTR swords are BEAUTIFUL and I WANT ONE but if I ever turn up with one to training I will be stared at in faint horror. They're quite dangerous to fight with, or so I've been told; a specific design is needed when using them against another sword. Or so I'm told. Ebay is a good idea to look for battle-safe swords, though, thanks!
That icon messed with my brain last night.