(no subject)
Dec. 21st, 2005 02:17 pmUuugggghhhhh.
If I ever, ever decide that it's a good idea to go the pub and then get a taxi home BECAUSE I GOT PISSED remind me about this morning. Killer hangover and a taxi to Newburgh to pick up my car.
NOT FUN KIDS.
Next time, I will stick with my water, and I will enjoy it.
Okay. Went out during the daytime to catch up with Jess and Day (Dobbin turned up later) and ate a large meal, whilst giggling a lot and talking about everything and nothing. Really confused them with my academic parents, but there we are. Eventually I buggared off home and before speeding off again to the Wayfarer, picking up Simon on the way. Arrived at the pub to discover many people, although I will only mention the ones with amusing stories because I can't quite remember or ever knew some of the names. Enid was there! Which was most marvellous! And her hair is very pretty! Also she gave me a Christmas present and I lost at life because, well, I have no money and cannot give one in return. I am IN MY HEAD though. Dalek and TARDIS keyrings are never bad things.
Peter was, in honour of his birthday, made a dreadful dreadful dirty pint. It involved cognac, vodka, lager, and Balieys. Amongst other things. It looked not unlike someone had thrown up in a pint glass, but give the man his due, he drank it. And then spent the rest of the evening getting steadily more drunk off it. It was marvellous to see him swaying slightly and slurring more as the night went on. It was about this time I thought it was a spiffy idea to perhaps have a drink which then led to me having to get a taxi home and OH DEAR OH DEAR OH DEAR.
I was so fucking hammered. I had a lot of vodka (no idea how much, which is... alarming, I think) and I don't drink that much at uni normally, so I have a Proper Ormskirk Hangover. I've been awake, staring grimly at the clock, since Dad woke up at 6.30am and I didn't sleep until at least three. Ugh. AND I managed to have the car picked up for 11am. SCORE or something like that.
Still feel quite sick, though.
I have lived with my parents for all of my days until September and chafed for the last year of it. I am fiercely independant and absolutely adore having my own space. I am my own person, and the constraints laid upon my time are of my own choosing - I choose to study for university, I choose to eat, I choose to make time for my friends, etc, etc.
Oh ho. That's gone out of the window. It's the meals that are doing it. Okay, OMG NAME BRANDS WOOT but seriously, people, why do you all eat so early? MADNESS I SAY.
Grandad is coming today. Okay. That set of grandparents I get on with, so not too bad. However! It is also
zeta_of_s's birthday. Needless to say, I feel Somewhat Awful about not seeing him.
On pain of pain, however, I am under instruction to stay inside the house until Grandad has left.
Not Best Pleased.
Now, in theory, there's nothing they can do. I can, in theory, go back to Gatty any damned time I please. In theory, what's she going to do? She wallops me, I'll damn well thump her back. (We are both born and bred pub fighters and it's got close more than once.) Going to ground me? At this age? Threaten to take away WHAT MONEY I ASK YOU? I pay EVERYTHING myself.
She has one weapon that I have no backing against.
Guilt.
Parental, nasty, guilt-tripping.
She's already pulled it once and I know if I say that I want out, she'll do it again. She'll put on the resigned voice and the face and tell me that if I think it's more important than family (yes) then it's fine, and she will guilt-trip and be quiet with me all through Christmas, and that will be fun for everyone, won't it?
So chances are, I'm staying in tonight. I'm not deliberately choosing to go out at that time, unless you'd like for me to buggar up everyone elses plan and ask the cinema to change ther showing times too.
To make matters worse, Grandad has yet to turn up so I can't even pull the "BUT I HAVE SEEN HIM FOR HOURS" trick.
Also I did not get them a Christmas present because I have no money so I should probably stay in. But argh. This sucks. I am so not best pleased.
So. Hungover, Not Best Pleased, and oooh, I really fancy something fried. Okay, the hangover might be disappearing then...
And, um, obviously, happy birthday to
zeta_of_s. Heaven knows I blether about him enough, so I will stick by simply saying that he is quite possibly the most wonderful thing in my world right now and I am a Bad Girlfriend because I AM STUCK IN MY HOUSE ARGH.
~Hathy_Col~
If I ever, ever decide that it's a good idea to go the pub and then get a taxi home BECAUSE I GOT PISSED remind me about this morning. Killer hangover and a taxi to Newburgh to pick up my car.
NOT FUN KIDS.
Next time, I will stick with my water, and I will enjoy it.
Okay. Went out during the daytime to catch up with Jess and Day (Dobbin turned up later) and ate a large meal, whilst giggling a lot and talking about everything and nothing. Really confused them with my academic parents, but there we are. Eventually I buggared off home and before speeding off again to the Wayfarer, picking up Simon on the way. Arrived at the pub to discover many people, although I will only mention the ones with amusing stories because I can't quite remember or ever knew some of the names. Enid was there! Which was most marvellous! And her hair is very pretty! Also she gave me a Christmas present and I lost at life because, well, I have no money and cannot give one in return. I am IN MY HEAD though. Dalek and TARDIS keyrings are never bad things.
Peter was, in honour of his birthday, made a dreadful dreadful dirty pint. It involved cognac, vodka, lager, and Balieys. Amongst other things. It looked not unlike someone had thrown up in a pint glass, but give the man his due, he drank it. And then spent the rest of the evening getting steadily more drunk off it. It was marvellous to see him swaying slightly and slurring more as the night went on. It was about this time I thought it was a spiffy idea to perhaps have a drink which then led to me having to get a taxi home and OH DEAR OH DEAR OH DEAR.
I was so fucking hammered. I had a lot of vodka (no idea how much, which is... alarming, I think) and I don't drink that much at uni normally, so I have a Proper Ormskirk Hangover. I've been awake, staring grimly at the clock, since Dad woke up at 6.30am and I didn't sleep until at least three. Ugh. AND I managed to have the car picked up for 11am. SCORE or something like that.
Still feel quite sick, though.
I have lived with my parents for all of my days until September and chafed for the last year of it. I am fiercely independant and absolutely adore having my own space. I am my own person, and the constraints laid upon my time are of my own choosing - I choose to study for university, I choose to eat, I choose to make time for my friends, etc, etc.
Oh ho. That's gone out of the window. It's the meals that are doing it. Okay, OMG NAME BRANDS WOOT but seriously, people, why do you all eat so early? MADNESS I SAY.
Grandad is coming today. Okay. That set of grandparents I get on with, so not too bad. However! It is also
On pain of pain, however, I am under instruction to stay inside the house until Grandad has left.
Not Best Pleased.
Now, in theory, there's nothing they can do. I can, in theory, go back to Gatty any damned time I please. In theory, what's she going to do? She wallops me, I'll damn well thump her back. (We are both born and bred pub fighters and it's got close more than once.) Going to ground me? At this age? Threaten to take away WHAT MONEY I ASK YOU? I pay EVERYTHING myself.
She has one weapon that I have no backing against.
Guilt.
Parental, nasty, guilt-tripping.
She's already pulled it once and I know if I say that I want out, she'll do it again. She'll put on the resigned voice and the face and tell me that if I think it's more important than family (yes) then it's fine, and she will guilt-trip and be quiet with me all through Christmas, and that will be fun for everyone, won't it?
So chances are, I'm staying in tonight. I'm not deliberately choosing to go out at that time, unless you'd like for me to buggar up everyone elses plan and ask the cinema to change ther showing times too.
To make matters worse, Grandad has yet to turn up so I can't even pull the "BUT I HAVE SEEN HIM FOR HOURS" trick.
Also I did not get them a Christmas present because I have no money so I should probably stay in. But argh. This sucks. I am so not best pleased.
So. Hungover, Not Best Pleased, and oooh, I really fancy something fried. Okay, the hangover might be disappearing then...
And, um, obviously, happy birthday to
~Hathy_Col~
no subject
Date: 2005-12-21 03:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-21 05:04 pm (UTC)Know how you feel about the stolen independence thing, sucks dont it :o( Oh, and happy birthday to Simon from me :o)
no subject
Date: 2005-12-21 11:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-22 01:39 pm (UTC)*facepalms*
no subject
Date: 2005-12-22 01:40 pm (UTC)Wonderful to behold!
no subject
Date: 2005-12-22 01:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-22 02:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-22 04:26 pm (UTC)*hugs*
it's ace how they can guilt trip you even more when you still live at home. i hate being semidependent more than i hated being dependent. grr.
xx