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Explainable Drinking Injuries
All day I have been trying to work out where the large purple bruising on my legs came from and why I was covered in deep scratchs.
Then a few minutes ago I had a sudden flash back to very late last night. I remembered two of my male friends picking up my best uni mate and I am depositing us into the next door neighbours garden in the middle of a drunken BBQ (specifically her drunken BBQ). As they had (naturally) then run away, and her neighbours were luckily on holiday we had a couple of cigarettes in their summer house and contemplated the prospect of climbing back over the fence. We decided it was impossible and so foolishly waited for the boys to come and save us.
...and we waited. Kind friends passed drinks to us, but we were beginning to feel like we might be missing something... Well, like we were missing everything actually.
Eventually we were so bored of being in the wrong party that we climbed aboard the beer express and managed to scale the fence, where upon we both fell straight into the middle of a rose bush. As it was a 1977 party and I was dressed as one of Elvis's angels naturally this meant that I accidently flashed my knickers at the entire party, at the exact moment that the naughty and overly-strong-when-pissed boys took a picture.*
So, at least that explains the cuts and bruises, I just hope my friend can think of a reason to explain to her neighbours why there are slightly battered fairy wings in their summer house.
The Year of the Grown Up (TM) certainly isn't progressing as planned.
*No, I am not going to post it here. Well, not unless the bribes are really good...
Flying North for the summer
I'm heading back to my sisters house now in a tiny villageville. I am going to put my clothes in the wardrobes, my shoes under the bed and my makeup in the dressing table. I am going to put my toothbrush by the sink Then I am going to try very hard to feel like I have come home.
Every morning now I will be woken with bird song and silence. I will miss the many huge inter-city trains that shook my city-abode. I will miss being able to get pot noodles from the corner shop at 2am, for that matter I will miss having somewhere to be coming back from at 2am.
But now there will be my lovely sister and also another second housemate, who I am actually already deeply deeply in love with. I think I will wait until tomorrow to introduce you though as I'm going to miss my train....
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This is leroy. Leroy is my new house mate. Say hello leroy...
Freak like me...
I'm not from round here and it's becoming rather obvious as I struggle to find my feet back in Small-Ville. I've never lived anywhere but London as a grown up and I feel like a complete Alien at the local shop. My old dinner lady served me at the Co-op, and you don't get that in the city.
So today, as I waited on the platform of the village station there were three people waiting with me; one looked like a member of atomic kitten, one was so pale that he was almost blue and the final lady was wearing a bum bag (A BUM BAG - and she was too young for irony). I just don't understand!!
My travel companions looked at my Ugg boots, bashed-up jeans and retro-cool fitted grey suit jacket and I'm sure they all muttered something and laughed. Haven't they heard of Sienna Miller here? What's going on.
The tree's and flowers make me feel dizzy, the fresh air makes me cough, the local pub plays karaoke on a Wednesday and the boys wink at you in the street. It's a little bit like getting to heaven and realising that you are wearing the wrong shoes. I've been in London for so long that when people chat to me in the pub I have small panic attacks and have to revive myself with gin. I can tell already that I've been marked down as an unfriendly London-bitch, possibly because I am. I must change my ways before college starts.
I'm not getting a bum bag though. No way.
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Leroy picked up on his house mates shoe obsession early on. Luckily they had a collection of christmas-slippers which they hoped may save their stella mccartney's...
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The countryside is a scary and dangerous place...
Big fish. Little fish. Cardboard box.
Living in Smallville is far more social than I had suspected
and last night I was looking forward to a night in with
Leroy the kitten and my sister. Still, when an old London
buddy called to say that he was in Liverpool on business who
was I to turn down the opportunity of a 'quick' drink?
As soon as we entered the bar we bumped into 4 of the
Hollyoaks girls (the twins, yummy mummy and the psoh one)
who they carried their drinks over and sat next to us. It
was pouring with tropical rain outside which splished and
sploshed into the Mersey. The humidity made my hair big. It
was exotic, exciting and lovely.
Then, something strange happened... as my London buddy
started to (quietly) take the piss out of Liverpool I felt a
strange and long-lost feeling surge through me.
No-one disses my town.
Later, he was telling me that he didn't dare tell his
girlfriend that he'd met me because she was so jealous (he
and I had once dated). Another strange feeling took over me.
Thank god I'm not going through that, I thought, thank god I
can do whatever I want and be me.
Just me. In Liverpool.