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hathycolOh, it's been a happy day. I type this with my bright blue and black hobo gloves on and I feel good about myself, despite the fact I should technically be on the BSU outing for Phantom Of The Opera. Erm... I am Poor.
So, Saturday I woke up and felt like death. It may have been 9pm, but I was the only one stupid enough to get up and deal with the dog at 3am, so I was shattered.
Bah.
Work was absolutely dreadful. Mind you, any day with not-quite-enough staff on the tills and the regional manager in is a Bad Day. Every three seconds "All till-trained staff to the checkouts!" Breaks were managed in a military style. Problem: we couldn't go whilst there was a queue. The lull at 2pm resulted in a mass desertion of the tills. Chaos ensued. We all sniggered in the staffroom.
I left at 5 - doing a little dance, it must be said - and proceeded to rush around Homebase, completing my Christmas shopping amd also getting some sparkly tinsel because I could. Fear me and my discount. I then proceeded for intense "I WILL LOOK GOOD" treatment in a Bridget Jones style for the evening. My hair is bad hair. We all know this. Preparation took two days, people, and I finished it yesterday. I felt quite chuffed, actually - it wasn't straight by any stretch of the word, but I looked kinda pretty with it. I then ran around, stealing my little sisters make-up and dressing self, and putting on pr0n boots. Mother insisted I had a lift. This is probably a good thing, really.
So, off I went to the train station, and shivered in fear on the train. Two types of fear, actually. The first one was fairly standard society!angst. Will all of the people there be posher than me? Do I look right? Argharghargh, etc. The second was due to the fighting blokes, one of whom was - literally - crawling up the wall. Before we go getting odd Exorcist images, it wasn't that odd. He was in a headlock, to try and get out of it he walked up the wall and hit the ceiling.
Only in Liverpool.
Reached Central to see Iona and Philippa, the latter being someone I don't really know. Both shrieked at my hair and I giggled girlishly, before really ruining my image. "I need to pee. Back in a minute."
Clare and Hannah had arrived once I had begged for clemancy to the scary station guard to get past the ticket barriers, and I wasn't epecting Clare that earlier. As a joke, I said "Did you sleep with your manager?" This came out much more aggressive than it was meant to be and I was subject to a fairly well-deserved ear-bashing. By this point, my pr0n boots were starting to by just a little bit sore, and frankly I wasn't too brilliant in walking in them. Since I was staying over at Hannah's, I was prepared with trainers, but ouch ouch ouch. By about 10.30, we had found LIPA. The Liverpool Institute OF Performing Arts to be precise, and we were as part of a party to raise money for the end-of-year party for Clare, Hannah and Emily's college. It seemed to sell well, anyway, so it appears Money Has Been Raised.
We got there, dumped stuff, and I felt my hair start to go curly in the frankly damp atmosphere. It was nice whilst it lasted, but there we are. We pulled up a table, and off we went to the bar. I was on single vodka and oranges all night - yay me - but bigods it was piss-weak stuff. I felt cheated. I was mildly tipsy for about ten minutes before I sobered up again. There's a faint suspicion that I am, in fact, developing a tolerance.
However, Hannah and Iona do not have the same tolerance. Clare is growing one - hence the fact she was on doubles - and I really wanted to see them drunk, because OMGTEHCUTE. And, y'know, being drunk on your own? Miserable. I would like to take this moment to quite from Iona's write-up:
Clare and Col were on a quest. "Get Iona drunk!"
"I don't drink," I protested, vainly.
"We are the Fellowship of the Bottle and we are on a Quest," Clare intoned solemnly, then spoiled the effect by giggling wildly at something Colleen said.
I can't remember what I said. Possibly a mad Bagenders reference. To further this:
When it was the second round, Colleen slammed another bottle of Archers in front of me. "Drink!" she ordered, sounding not unlike Father Jack, and I drank.
I'm sorry. It's a bad habit. We sat aroubnd a table and drank, talking about Angel ("To the Angelmobile!") and Buffy ("I've got a theory!"). However, Hannah and Ionas were pleasently tipsy and before long crazy dancing began. God, my dancing is rubbish. I had TEN YEARS of lessons. I have been in 6 shows, choreographed a price-winning dance (go me!), up to Gold standard jazz, elemntary tap and modern and grade 5 ballet and I still can't dance. Something is wrong here. However, we danced anyway, and it was fun, actually. The alcohol was comfortably numbing the burning pain in the balls of my feet and I was rather happy. When the music got a litle bit crap, we went to sit down. Four of us. On one chair. The chair is still not broken, with Iona on Hannah and me on Clare. I'm glad I don't have to go to Hannah and Clare's college on Monday, you know. I'm good at deflecting rumours - for the love of god, people just roll their eyes and sigh now - but I suspect it will come as a shock as people want to know what was going on with the Cuddlemonster Of Doom on the one chair.
In fear of the chair's life, we moved back to the dancefloor. Hannah and Iona were being cute, my feet were throbbing in the comfortable way that lets you know it's been a good night, the music wasn't too horrendous, and then Clare... erm... she has outed herself rather spectacularly. In front of many of her college-peeps. Not that I'm complaining - far from it - but I did swear at Iona.
"You're being CUTE!"
"Oh, shut up."
The bar was closed - god knows why, cannot remember announcement - and we danced on until my feet were at the point of genuine, physical pain. I swapped for my trainers and felt much more comfortable. As everyone stared, I sat back and sighed happily. "I'm in my happy place now."
We danced for a little while longer, and then McFly kicked in. The lyric we left on was appropriate: "Gotta escape now..."
Sorry,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
__sparkler. Just not my thing.
We managed to find a taxi by more or less running out in front of the road and blocking it and making it take us to Hannah's house. I have now been in every Lunatics household, for which I am quite glad. We slept in the living room, which was Christmassy but chilly. We spread blanket things on the living room ("Insulation is good! Unless you're trying to conduct electricity.") and I managed to more or less snuggle down next to Clare. Iona was on the other side.
"I'm cold!"
"Well, cuddle up to me then."
Hannah came in to see me looking like the pimp I occasionally morph into. I felt proud. We dropped off a little while later, and woke up a few hours later as Hannah needed to go to work. Then we realised that we were up an hour earlier than we needed to, and I tried to hold a lucid conversation with Clare The Insomniac. Didn't work - I more or less passed out. Whoops. An hour later, I was gently poking Iona and leaping back in fear as she snarled at me. Before I knew it, we had to go. We gently sang along to Queen in the car, and threw Hannah out of the car before Iona and I went Christmas shopping. I told her how to spell Morocco, and she laughed at me as I bought fluffy things. No more shall be said until the recievers of the gifts recieve aforementioned fluffy things.
And now I'm at home, avoiding work. I've sorted my presents into piles to be wrapped, and even tidied up a section of my room. I watched the Eastenders omnibus. I have still done no work. I am worringly lazy, but suspect I shoud do some work now. However, I am hungry, so I will eat first. I have still had a very pleasent evening, despite the lamentable lack of Emily and Enid - Emily was at Christmas work do/throwing up/Albert Docks/boss's house throughout the evening and Enid couldn't make it.
Yet... fun, nevertheless. The tree is up in the living room now, but no decorations until tomorrow. 12 days before Christmas, obviously!
Yes. Food.
~Hathy_Col~
So, Saturday I woke up and felt like death. It may have been 9pm, but I was the only one stupid enough to get up and deal with the dog at 3am, so I was shattered.
Bah.
Work was absolutely dreadful. Mind you, any day with not-quite-enough staff on the tills and the regional manager in is a Bad Day. Every three seconds "All till-trained staff to the checkouts!" Breaks were managed in a military style. Problem: we couldn't go whilst there was a queue. The lull at 2pm resulted in a mass desertion of the tills. Chaos ensued. We all sniggered in the staffroom.
I left at 5 - doing a little dance, it must be said - and proceeded to rush around Homebase, completing my Christmas shopping amd also getting some sparkly tinsel because I could. Fear me and my discount. I then proceeded for intense "I WILL LOOK GOOD" treatment in a Bridget Jones style for the evening. My hair is bad hair. We all know this. Preparation took two days, people, and I finished it yesterday. I felt quite chuffed, actually - it wasn't straight by any stretch of the word, but I looked kinda pretty with it. I then ran around, stealing my little sisters make-up and dressing self, and putting on pr0n boots. Mother insisted I had a lift. This is probably a good thing, really.
So, off I went to the train station, and shivered in fear on the train. Two types of fear, actually. The first one was fairly standard society!angst. Will all of the people there be posher than me? Do I look right? Argharghargh, etc. The second was due to the fighting blokes, one of whom was - literally - crawling up the wall. Before we go getting odd Exorcist images, it wasn't that odd. He was in a headlock, to try and get out of it he walked up the wall and hit the ceiling.
Only in Liverpool.
Reached Central to see Iona and Philippa, the latter being someone I don't really know. Both shrieked at my hair and I giggled girlishly, before really ruining my image. "I need to pee. Back in a minute."
Clare and Hannah had arrived once I had begged for clemancy to the scary station guard to get past the ticket barriers, and I wasn't epecting Clare that earlier. As a joke, I said "Did you sleep with your manager?" This came out much more aggressive than it was meant to be and I was subject to a fairly well-deserved ear-bashing. By this point, my pr0n boots were starting to by just a little bit sore, and frankly I wasn't too brilliant in walking in them. Since I was staying over at Hannah's, I was prepared with trainers, but ouch ouch ouch. By about 10.30, we had found LIPA. The Liverpool Institute OF Performing Arts to be precise, and we were as part of a party to raise money for the end-of-year party for Clare, Hannah and Emily's college. It seemed to sell well, anyway, so it appears Money Has Been Raised.
We got there, dumped stuff, and I felt my hair start to go curly in the frankly damp atmosphere. It was nice whilst it lasted, but there we are. We pulled up a table, and off we went to the bar. I was on single vodka and oranges all night - yay me - but bigods it was piss-weak stuff. I felt cheated. I was mildly tipsy for about ten minutes before I sobered up again. There's a faint suspicion that I am, in fact, developing a tolerance.
However, Hannah and Iona do not have the same tolerance. Clare is growing one - hence the fact she was on doubles - and I really wanted to see them drunk, because OMGTEHCUTE. And, y'know, being drunk on your own? Miserable. I would like to take this moment to quite from Iona's write-up:
Clare and Col were on a quest. "Get Iona drunk!"
"I don't drink," I protested, vainly.
"We are the Fellowship of the Bottle and we are on a Quest," Clare intoned solemnly, then spoiled the effect by giggling wildly at something Colleen said.
I can't remember what I said. Possibly a mad Bagenders reference. To further this:
When it was the second round, Colleen slammed another bottle of Archers in front of me. "Drink!" she ordered, sounding not unlike Father Jack, and I drank.
I'm sorry. It's a bad habit. We sat aroubnd a table and drank, talking about Angel ("To the Angelmobile!") and Buffy ("I've got a theory!"). However, Hannah and Ionas were pleasently tipsy and before long crazy dancing began. God, my dancing is rubbish. I had TEN YEARS of lessons. I have been in 6 shows, choreographed a price-winning dance (go me!), up to Gold standard jazz, elemntary tap and modern and grade 5 ballet and I still can't dance. Something is wrong here. However, we danced anyway, and it was fun, actually. The alcohol was comfortably numbing the burning pain in the balls of my feet and I was rather happy. When the music got a litle bit crap, we went to sit down. Four of us. On one chair. The chair is still not broken, with Iona on Hannah and me on Clare. I'm glad I don't have to go to Hannah and Clare's college on Monday, you know. I'm good at deflecting rumours - for the love of god, people just roll their eyes and sigh now - but I suspect it will come as a shock as people want to know what was going on with the Cuddlemonster Of Doom on the one chair.
In fear of the chair's life, we moved back to the dancefloor. Hannah and Iona were being cute, my feet were throbbing in the comfortable way that lets you know it's been a good night, the music wasn't too horrendous, and then Clare... erm... she has outed herself rather spectacularly. In front of many of her college-peeps. Not that I'm complaining - far from it - but I did swear at Iona.
"You're being CUTE!"
"Oh, shut up."
The bar was closed - god knows why, cannot remember announcement - and we danced on until my feet were at the point of genuine, physical pain. I swapped for my trainers and felt much more comfortable. As everyone stared, I sat back and sighed happily. "I'm in my happy place now."
We danced for a little while longer, and then McFly kicked in. The lyric we left on was appropriate: "Gotta escape now..."
Sorry,
__sparkler. Just not my thing.We managed to find a taxi by more or less running out in front of the road and blocking it and making it take us to Hannah's house. I have now been in every Lunatics household, for which I am quite glad. We slept in the living room, which was Christmassy but chilly. We spread blanket things on the living room ("Insulation is good! Unless you're trying to conduct electricity.") and I managed to more or less snuggle down next to Clare. Iona was on the other side.
"I'm cold!"
"Well, cuddle up to me then."
Hannah came in to see me looking like the pimp I occasionally morph into. I felt proud. We dropped off a little while later, and woke up a few hours later as Hannah needed to go to work. Then we realised that we were up an hour earlier than we needed to, and I tried to hold a lucid conversation with Clare The Insomniac. Didn't work - I more or less passed out. Whoops. An hour later, I was gently poking Iona and leaping back in fear as she snarled at me. Before I knew it, we had to go. We gently sang along to Queen in the car, and threw Hannah out of the car before Iona and I went Christmas shopping. I told her how to spell Morocco, and she laughed at me as I bought fluffy things. No more shall be said until the recievers of the gifts recieve aforementioned fluffy things.
And now I'm at home, avoiding work. I've sorted my presents into piles to be wrapped, and even tidied up a section of my room. I watched the Eastenders omnibus. I have still done no work. I am worringly lazy, but suspect I shoud do some work now. However, I am hungry, so I will eat first. I have still had a very pleasent evening, despite the lamentable lack of Emily and Enid - Emily was at Christmas work do/throwing up/Albert Docks/boss's house throughout the evening and Enid couldn't make it.
Yet... fun, nevertheless. The tree is up in the living room now, but no decorations until tomorrow. 12 days before Christmas, obviously!
Yes. Food.
~Hathy_Col~
no subject
Date: 2004-12-12 12:59 pm (UTC)Did Hannah have her camera?
Emily was at Christmas work do/throwing up/Albert Docks/boss's house throughout the evening
You make me sound very good(!)
Update when I have woken up properly. :P
Things Happened