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hathycolOh, gosh.
I am back from my Magical Mystery Tour. Stargate fans, prepare to be jealous - I was at Children Of The Gods convention, run by darling Wolf Events, (and not Creation! boohiss) and I had a fucking fabulous weekend. It involved alcohol, outing myself (and Clare) to a roomful of people (twice) a lack of a sleep and a chicken tikka masala.
Sounds a bit like a Red Dwarf episode, actually.
However, there were two major events of this weekend, and this post comes first. (look out for a con write-up tomorrow, kids! I promise partially!nekkid!Peter Williams) That's right, it's my Winstanley College Leaver's Do and I spent fucking HOURS getting ready.
Allow me to explain. Every so often, I do go against all previous behavourial patterns and Become A Girl. Friday was one of those days, even though I started the day being all manly on a driving lesson. I want it to be known that I actually passed my mock test on Friday. It's the first time he's not said in a gentle tone of voice "Okay, you know you would have failed there?" so I feel all warm and glowy. I came home from that, after describing to him what the Jacobean period was (furniture, apparently) and divied into the showever before painting my nails and heading out to the hairdressers.
Three hours later, I had perfectly straight hair, new layers at the front ("to give it spice") and I was minus £30. I used to hate going to the hairdressers, but I have to admit that I'm changing my mind. I love getting my hair washed. It's like the ultimate massage, and I just want to sit there and let them do wonderful things with conditioner for HOURS. Instead, however, they straightened my hair. It took bloody ages, I have to admit, but she did a wonderful job. It was was flat and pretty and layered around the edges. Amusingly, a bloke by the name of Paul Jones sat down next to me while I was there and we shared straighteners. Oh, the celebrity types. He is, by the way, the closest thing Ormskirk currently has to a pop star. My hairdresser was chatting away to me after he left. "He doesn't half look familiar!"
"Do you remember X-Factor? LAST TEN."
"OH MY GOD NO WAY!"
Good fun. I came home and actually got chatted up by someone in the park, which gave me a big silly grin and left me beaming all day. I felt fabulous as I got ready, was hoisted into my dress and my mother took photos and gushed.
See, I can be girly. That's our garden, by the way.
I then got in the car and was driven ridiculously far to Bolton Reebok Football Stadium, at which point we were SO FUCKING LOST. The place is huge and I had no idea what suit we were in. As such, I phoned Jess and went to see her in the hotel. Her and Day were staying in the hotelto have sex overnight and had checked in to get ready. So, I get into the hotel, wander up the room she told me to be at and knocked confidently on the door. No answer. I knock again and shout "JESS!" through the door. A door down the corridor opens, with what looks like a blonde businesswoman coming out. She looks at me. I smile awkwardly and knocked agian, whent he blonde businesswoman goes "Colleen! For fuck's sake!"
It was Jess, and by god she looked different. All lady in red and sophisticated, and even Day scrubbed up well in a suit. We went down together and found the place with hordes of people milling around to get in, and had the joy of being searched on the way in. Honestly. Despite honest temptation I did not have a bottle of vodka strapped to my leg!
The room was more or less and aircraft hanger, but I wasn't really paying attention to that. The Principal and was handing out little Winstanley pins and directing us all towards a table FULL of free Buck's Fizz.
Five (free!) glasses later I decided that I quite liked Buck's Fizz, despite the fact I really hated the first two (free!) glasses. A lot of other people had taken this route as we cheerfully all declared how much we'd miss each other. This will explain the crappy quality of the photos - I'm only putting up th good ones. Anyway, the Buck's Fizz had gone, and we got served a meal which was really rather nice, barring one problem. I had pre-booked my meal WITHOUT bacon, as I don't eat red meat. The waiter comes up and gives me a meal.
"Thank you," I said with a smile before frowning. "This has bacon in it."
"Yes..."
"I ordered it without bacon."
"You did?" He said this in a tone that said 'bitch, please!'
"Yes. I can't eat becon, I'm Jewish."
"Oh, I'm sorry!"
He took my plate off me and scuttled away looking mortified. The table promptly exploded amid calls of "Colleen, did you just tell that poor bloke you were Jewish so you didn't have to eat bacon?"
"Well, I hardly look like a traditional Muslim woman, do I?"
The whole table nearly died of hysterics. And I got my meal without bacon, so everyone was happy. And champagne drunk. We were sat just by the Foundation Art students, and apparently they always come in fancy dress every year. This year was no different, as in walked what looked like a very pretty boy Phantom followed by - amongst others - (female!)Captain Sparrow, Commodore Norrington, Will Turner, The Bride, Flash Gordon, Edward Scissorhands, Dorothy and what looked like the cat of the League of Gentlemen. I couldn't get any potos, by the way, but it was good fun to watch. The dancing started up amid alcohol and a very bus danceflor, so we colonised a bit off to the side and made it our own.
At one point, Liz and I were sat to one side on the table, and I happened to glance over at the costumed people.
"LIZLIZLIZLIZ!"
"Eh?"
"THE PHANTOM AND CAPTAIN JACK SPARROW ARE KISSING!"
We squeed and thought up crossovers. I then thought no more of it (excepting the use of the title in this post) until I went to the loo and the Phantom squeezed past me. "Nice outfit," I said and thought no more of it again. I sat down at the table. I drank my drink. I looked at the costumed table again.
"LIZLIZLIZ!"
"What now?"
"Captain Jack Sparrow! Is a girl! And the Phantom! Is a girl! And they are kissing! And they are real life slash! But they are dressed as male slashy characters! OH MY GOD GENDERFUCK."
I was so amused by all of this. And then what happened in the rest of the night?
Lucy and Little Jess.
Very blurry me and Liz.
Me and Helen, proving to the world that we can be girly. The English clss was so shocked.
I danced so much that night though, to the extent I went without shoes. Jess, Cara and I even went to find Elaine, and we danced with our politics teacher and assorted classmates for the best part of an hour. I nearly cried with laughter as Elaine was so amazingly pissed, and Amarillo was just HYSTERICAL. I came back for a rest over in my table, and Shaun from English grabbed me. We danced a little around the table before he hugged me, declared that he wished I'd been girly before and kissed my on the cheek. I was quite touched, in a strange way. It was so lovely realising that all the people you don't know that well do, actually, seem to the vaguely care. All these people I know sort of vaguely were coming up and saying lovely things, and so was I It wasn't the borderline squeaking "OHI'LLMISSYOU" of the last day of college, it was just a wonderful night. With lots and lots and lots more dancing.
Speaking of, the endof the evening drew near, and we all formed a very large circle and linked arms and sing along and sway as the DJ played slow songs. I was next to Jess, and they suddenly played Oasis - Don't Look Bacm In Anger. I have known Jess for fifteen years, and we sang that song in primary school at age nine.
My lip started getting wobbly by the third verse. By the chorus I had single sparly tears. By the end of the song I was sobbing brokenly into Jess's shoulder and I just couldn't stop. I was, appatently, contagious. Nat went next, and then Jess, and then Liz came over and I sobbed into her shoulder and it just got messy. Every time I saw someone I was so upset. As such, I hugged everyone once and wept a bit more, before jumping on a coach home. It was just... bittersweet, that ending. Perfect, I suppose, because god I'll miss everyone, but... it was right. The entire ball was magical, though.
I slept for a long part of that journey, but I didn't get in until 3.20am. I hadn't actually packed yet for my Magical Mystery Tour, what with not knowing what to pack. I packed bog standard stuff (Elmo t-shirt - bright red with Elmo's face - Dalek t-shirt and weird peacy t-shirt, plus my Slaggy Pub Top just in case), forgot most of my toiletries and sat in the living room with my mother trying to understand the new housemates for Big Brother. At four am, Clare arrived. I looked at her blearily, what with having got up at nine am the day before and only had half an hours sleep on the way there. My Magical Mystery Tour, as such, was even more of a mystery as I actually passed out once we were on the M6 and I had directed her to the motorway. What I do remember of that journey was looking out of Ron's front window at Clare steadily disappearing into the distance across a car park. On some dim level I must have realised we were at a service station, so I kept on sleeping happily. Ron's seatbelt is a comfy hammock.
And that is all I shall say about that. I need to sleep before I DIE. Expect Teh Exciting Post tomorrow!
~Hathy_Col~
I am back from my Magical Mystery Tour. Stargate fans, prepare to be jealous - I was at Children Of The Gods convention, run by darling Wolf Events, (and not Creation! boohiss) and I had a fucking fabulous weekend. It involved alcohol, outing myself (and Clare) to a roomful of people (twice) a lack of a sleep and a chicken tikka masala.
Sounds a bit like a Red Dwarf episode, actually.
However, there were two major events of this weekend, and this post comes first. (look out for a con write-up tomorrow, kids! I promise partially!nekkid!Peter Williams) That's right, it's my Winstanley College Leaver's Do and I spent fucking HOURS getting ready.
Allow me to explain. Every so often, I do go against all previous behavourial patterns and Become A Girl. Friday was one of those days, even though I started the day being all manly on a driving lesson. I want it to be known that I actually passed my mock test on Friday. It's the first time he's not said in a gentle tone of voice "Okay, you know you would have failed there?" so I feel all warm and glowy. I came home from that, after describing to him what the Jacobean period was (furniture, apparently) and divied into the showever before painting my nails and heading out to the hairdressers.
Three hours later, I had perfectly straight hair, new layers at the front ("to give it spice") and I was minus £30. I used to hate going to the hairdressers, but I have to admit that I'm changing my mind. I love getting my hair washed. It's like the ultimate massage, and I just want to sit there and let them do wonderful things with conditioner for HOURS. Instead, however, they straightened my hair. It took bloody ages, I have to admit, but she did a wonderful job. It was was flat and pretty and layered around the edges. Amusingly, a bloke by the name of Paul Jones sat down next to me while I was there and we shared straighteners. Oh, the celebrity types. He is, by the way, the closest thing Ormskirk currently has to a pop star. My hairdresser was chatting away to me after he left. "He doesn't half look familiar!"
"Do you remember X-Factor? LAST TEN."
"OH MY GOD NO WAY!"
Good fun. I came home and actually got chatted up by someone in the park, which gave me a big silly grin and left me beaming all day. I felt fabulous as I got ready, was hoisted into my dress and my mother took photos and gushed.
See, I can be girly. That's our garden, by the way.
I then got in the car and was driven ridiculously far to Bolton Reebok Football Stadium, at which point we were SO FUCKING LOST. The place is huge and I had no idea what suit we were in. As such, I phoned Jess and went to see her in the hotel. Her and Day were staying in the hotel
It was Jess, and by god she looked different. All lady in red and sophisticated, and even Day scrubbed up well in a suit. We went down together and found the place with hordes of people milling around to get in, and had the joy of being searched on the way in. Honestly. Despite honest temptation I did not have a bottle of vodka strapped to my leg!
The room was more or less and aircraft hanger, but I wasn't really paying attention to that. The Principal and was handing out little Winstanley pins and directing us all towards a table FULL of free Buck's Fizz.
Five (free!) glasses later I decided that I quite liked Buck's Fizz, despite the fact I really hated the first two (free!) glasses. A lot of other people had taken this route as we cheerfully all declared how much we'd miss each other. This will explain the crappy quality of the photos - I'm only putting up th good ones. Anyway, the Buck's Fizz had gone, and we got served a meal which was really rather nice, barring one problem. I had pre-booked my meal WITHOUT bacon, as I don't eat red meat. The waiter comes up and gives me a meal.
"Thank you," I said with a smile before frowning. "This has bacon in it."
"Yes..."
"I ordered it without bacon."
"You did?" He said this in a tone that said 'bitch, please!'
"Yes. I can't eat becon, I'm Jewish."
"Oh, I'm sorry!"
He took my plate off me and scuttled away looking mortified. The table promptly exploded amid calls of "Colleen, did you just tell that poor bloke you were Jewish so you didn't have to eat bacon?"
"Well, I hardly look like a traditional Muslim woman, do I?"
The whole table nearly died of hysterics. And I got my meal without bacon, so everyone was happy. And champagne drunk. We were sat just by the Foundation Art students, and apparently they always come in fancy dress every year. This year was no different, as in walked what looked like a very pretty boy Phantom followed by - amongst others - (female!)Captain Sparrow, Commodore Norrington, Will Turner, The Bride, Flash Gordon, Edward Scissorhands, Dorothy and what looked like the cat of the League of Gentlemen. I couldn't get any potos, by the way, but it was good fun to watch. The dancing started up amid alcohol and a very bus danceflor, so we colonised a bit off to the side and made it our own.
At one point, Liz and I were sat to one side on the table, and I happened to glance over at the costumed people.
"LIZLIZLIZLIZ!"
"Eh?"
"THE PHANTOM AND CAPTAIN JACK SPARROW ARE KISSING!"
We squeed and thought up crossovers. I then thought no more of it (excepting the use of the title in this post) until I went to the loo and the Phantom squeezed past me. "Nice outfit," I said and thought no more of it again. I sat down at the table. I drank my drink. I looked at the costumed table again.
"LIZLIZLIZ!"
"What now?"
"Captain Jack Sparrow! Is a girl! And the Phantom! Is a girl! And they are kissing! And they are real life slash! But they are dressed as male slashy characters! OH MY GOD GENDERFUCK."
I was so amused by all of this. And then what happened in the rest of the night?
Lucy and Little Jess.
Very blurry me and Liz.
Me and Helen, proving to the world that we can be girly. The English clss was so shocked.
I danced so much that night though, to the extent I went without shoes. Jess, Cara and I even went to find Elaine, and we danced with our politics teacher and assorted classmates for the best part of an hour. I nearly cried with laughter as Elaine was so amazingly pissed, and Amarillo was just HYSTERICAL. I came back for a rest over in my table, and Shaun from English grabbed me. We danced a little around the table before he hugged me, declared that he wished I'd been girly before and kissed my on the cheek. I was quite touched, in a strange way. It was so lovely realising that all the people you don't know that well do, actually, seem to the vaguely care. All these people I know sort of vaguely were coming up and saying lovely things, and so was I It wasn't the borderline squeaking "OHI'LLMISSYOU" of the last day of college, it was just a wonderful night. With lots and lots and lots more dancing.
Speaking of, the endof the evening drew near, and we all formed a very large circle and linked arms and sing along and sway as the DJ played slow songs. I was next to Jess, and they suddenly played Oasis - Don't Look Bacm In Anger. I have known Jess for fifteen years, and we sang that song in primary school at age nine.
My lip started getting wobbly by the third verse. By the chorus I had single sparly tears. By the end of the song I was sobbing brokenly into Jess's shoulder and I just couldn't stop. I was, appatently, contagious. Nat went next, and then Jess, and then Liz came over and I sobbed into her shoulder and it just got messy. Every time I saw someone I was so upset. As such, I hugged everyone once and wept a bit more, before jumping on a coach home. It was just... bittersweet, that ending. Perfect, I suppose, because god I'll miss everyone, but... it was right. The entire ball was magical, though.
I slept for a long part of that journey, but I didn't get in until 3.20am. I hadn't actually packed yet for my Magical Mystery Tour, what with not knowing what to pack. I packed bog standard stuff (Elmo t-shirt - bright red with Elmo's face - Dalek t-shirt and weird peacy t-shirt, plus my Slaggy Pub Top just in case), forgot most of my toiletries and sat in the living room with my mother trying to understand the new housemates for Big Brother. At four am, Clare arrived. I looked at her blearily, what with having got up at nine am the day before and only had half an hours sleep on the way there. My Magical Mystery Tour, as such, was even more of a mystery as I actually passed out once we were on the M6 and I had directed her to the motorway. What I do remember of that journey was looking out of Ron's front window at Clare steadily disappearing into the distance across a car park. On some dim level I must have realised we were at a service station, so I kept on sleeping happily. Ron's seatbelt is a comfy hammock.
And that is all I shall say about that. I need to sleep before I DIE. Expect Teh Exciting Post tomorrow!
~Hathy_Col~
