wobbly walking..and not only cause of the heels.

I’m beginning to feel the limitlessness of being 18. On Tuesday night, my friend EHC and I hosted our joint 18th in a bar in Fitzrovia – and a feeling that I can’t shake off is incredulity that that party was actually put on by me and my friend. I mean, me, the most socially inept person EVURR, put on a party that people said was worth all the hassle such as travel and snow shizz. Unbelievable.

No need to say that snow posed a huge problem; a few people e-mailed or texted me at the last minute apologising for not being able to attend because of adverse road conditions. Hah. All I could then visualise was a scarcely filled room for a party which could only be defined as AWKWARD.

And that’s what it was, in the first half hour at least. Then people started arriving, some sticking to the theme more than others, but that people were sticking to the theme at all was making me happy. Most of the beginning of my evening was spent trying to get people to go onto the dancefloor, or to at least integrate. Apparently that was fruitful, as it got a group of otherwise secluded guys to either a) eat girls’ faces, b) get pissed and dance horrendously, c) be crackingly hilarious.

I also spent the evening doing what I do best – get twit-drunk and make a complete fool of myself but still retain some control of myself and have an absolutely fucking good time. I was so happy on the evening and the morning after, but as that following day went on, it started to dawn on me that maybe I made more of a fool of myself than I could have realised. I certainly remember guys clearly talking about me and me going ‘Are you talking about me?!’ and them thinking that I’m completely out-of-my-mind idiotic and that I would believe their downright ‘No’. Guys, I’m a clever drunk. Ish.

I have to say, the music played wasn’t at its best, maybe explaining the on-off attendance on the dancefloor. Obvs there were quite a few guys that couldn’t bring themselves to even set foot on that floor, one of them saying that he didn’t have his dancing shoes on and me going ‘Set a trend! Be the first to dance in those shoes!’ I’m such a twit. (I’m gonna be saying that a lot every time I remember something I’ve said that night) But anyway, it’s what you can expect of (most) guys; they either need a lot of alcohol, or they need a girl to be grinding against. Or both.

Another defining feature of this party has to be the number of times I walked into two peeps eating each other’s faces (not counting already established couples). It gives me a sort of smug feeling, knowing my party is making me matchmaker. But then, what does that say about my party, if it’s driven guys to get off with multiple girls, some of which are my innocent 16-yo friends?... Probably just that the girl:guy ratio was seriously unbalanced, meaning that guys had a huge selection and couldn’t stand sticking to one. As per usual. I am really happy, though, that my friends mingled (on several different levels, XP)

I didn’t do much dancing, mainly because I spent so much of the evening rotating around, trying to make everyone feel at home, and speaking to as many peeps as poss, including EHC’s guests and our guests’ +1s. Met some great people, but I have a pretty good feeling that they now have some amazing impression of me…drunk me. Hmmmmmmmmmmmm. I always do that. Oh but what made me LOL was beingbehaving like a right drunk to the people who had never before seen me drunk. I’d say a large minority of the guests had already seen me drunk before, but some of those who hadn’t were well shocked. Their reactions are quite classic. Awh alcohol, I love you a bit.

Ah, the feeling of being able to buy drinks. Freely. Oh you know what, I don’t think the alcohol has worn off. My head’s a little unstable. I’ve had a freakin headache all day, and it’s got progressively worse as the day has worn on. It got to the point where seven successive statuses on my Twitter were either about my head or about my uprising vom. Charming aren’t I.

Back to the point, I could finally go up to the bar and buy drinks! And buy drinks for other unable-to-buy-drinks losers! WOOP! Not that the bar even ID’ed anyway, but, you know, I liked revelling in the feeling. I had to be taught (again) how to do tequila shots but after my first I was the one teaching them! Gah, I’m such a drunk. I’m starting to depend on alcohol a little too much in social situations. Bah, whatever, it loosens me up! If I get to 40 and still need alcohol, then I’ll worry. In the meantime, I’ll take advantage of my youth (even though I’m actually not a ‘yoot’ anymore, dammit) thank you very much.

To be fair, the girl:guy ratio wasn't that bad, from the looks of it. My friend and I went to such lengths to get the balance right, and in the end it magically seemed quite even. Or maybe it's just that I cotched with guys most of the time. Anyway, not that the imbalance was too much a bad thing, for the guys at least.

So, the party was great, IMO. Perhaps that op’s a little influenced by the automatic rose-tinted view that alcohol gives you (rose-tinted?! or should that be blurred/slow/non-existant, I’m pretty sure it took me about 30 seconds to work out what it was that I was seeing). But my different social groups mingled, people actually danced, people got off, only 1 person (who had ID) got ID’ed, the staff were great, and everybody had a good time! Did last night really happen?! I’m slightly baffled. Apparently that’s a sign that you’ve had a good 18th. It certainly felt good. Forget saying hi to adulthood, I wanna say hi to throwing more parties!

I’ll leave you with some of the shit that I spewed out while intoxicated:
- ‘[prodding one of our guests’ +1s’ iron biceps; he happens to be Head boy at his school] You…are now definitely Head Boy material’
- the multiple slaps I handed out to guys across the party. Felt damnnnnn good.
- ‘SLAGS [at all the people getting off]
- ‘[to a friend who was standing with a girl he’d been getting off with] So how many girls have you got with now? Two, three, four, five?’
She turns around to him ‘Have you really got with five girls?’
‘No! IKP (me) tell her the truth!’
‘Yeah I’m only joking, he hasn’t got with five girls’
I hear the girl didn’t believe either me or him. Well she’s better off without him – he actually had got off with my 16-yo innocent friend.
- ‘JEWWWWWW’ [at my various jew friends. I love them really]
- Hah, I forget: on our way back, met a French black dude at the bus shelter. Biggest beg EVURR (sorry, gonna stop saying that). He tried it on with me and two of my friends, getting a wad of cash out and promising to pay for our taxi, drinks as various ways of enticing us to spend time with him. No thanks, you twat. Anyway, because he was French, I could babble away to him, but my firm threats were also made even more effective.
So, this is me, but in French, ‘my friend here..you know, he likes to show his body… oh, I dunno how to say this word in French… flasher?’
And also pulling the lesbian trick as an attempt to get rid of him (in French) 'hey we're all lesbians here. [later, when he puts his arms around my friend - who actually happens to be bi] hey, what do you think you're doing trying to get off with a lesbian?!'

It’s undeniable. I love my drunk self, perhaps a little too much.

Shit, that was long, though not as long as my Harry Potter post, just cause I definitely love Harry Potter more than I do alcohol. Definitely.

xxxx

LS' at Babble

[written on Sunday 15 November 2009]

Hi, I think this is the first post that I'm writing as I'm working through the night. Yup, Sunday night and I've just been to a friend's 18^th. Worth it? Definitely. Now I can sit down and focus, without the need for a distraction. Except... I've just found one. You.

I like to write, that's all! One kind of writing I'm slightly anxious about is for my job as my school's Classics Magazine Editor. I don't know what the hell I'm gonna write about (that could be interesting AND suitable). It does not help that the head of the Classics department specially mentioned me and my co-editor in his speech at the Classics Symposium, thanking us "in advance" for the Magazine. No pressure!

I came back from my friend's, only to find my mum looking at me slightly ominously.

"You've got that interview practice tomorrow and you still went out."

[please note, there's no anger ruminating inside of her, she's just talking normally.]

Later, she said to me "I just don't believe you went to a birthday"

"What? Then where did I go?"

"Yeah, tell me where did you go?"

"Euch..."

Funny thing: until she [even later] asked me if we'd "been dancing", I was sure that her idea of birthdays was sitting round a table, having a tea party. Except, not really: my mum's actually quite in touch with the outer universe of teenagers.

On the other hand, my dad had a slightly more serious look about him. "In the future, it would be better if you didn't go out on Sundays because the next day you have school" (though in Chinese it's a lot more assertive in such a way that they don't really mean "it would be better for you" in a nice way. They mean "it would be better for you otherwise i'm gon kick yo ass in")

xxxx

J's.

[written on Monday 2 Nov]

I cannot believe my school network has blocked BLOGGER! What IS that?! So I'm now using my email account to MAIL this post to my blog.

Anyway, out of outrage at whoever decided that Blogger poses a threat of DISTRACTION to our school day, I decided to procrastinate. Actually, that isn't too true, I went on Blogger an hour after I started procrastinating. So erm, yeah, Blogger really doesn't distract. I was distracted already.

Came across the most awesome website that has oceans of free album downloads. How are they still alive?! How has the Internet not killed them for the illegal-ness of their activity? HOW?! (Bleurgh, just realised I've written three words in CAPS in this post alone - hmm, I must be stressed.) So, yeah, the government is shit at finding mp3 sharks. I think I just made that term up. I seem to be feeling a little erratic today. Must be a weirdo, I mean, who would be erratic, after 4 hours of sleep?! Ridic.

Hallowe'en this year? Slightly different to how I expected it to be. Plan A - go to a friend's birthday do in Camden, then go to another's halloween one. Actual plan - go to a friend's birthday do in Camden, only to find..well, not what we wanted. We wanted a place to get "titfaced" (courtesy of JJT), but we found none. We didn't want to find a druggie who stalked us for about 10 minutes, and we did. *sigh*. Good times though!

Back to the topic- because we found nowhere, they decided to go back to my friend's house. I went with them, then realised it would take me way too long to get to the halloween one. Oops.

Had a great night at their house - I don't want this whole post to turn into a private joke, so let me just say: CM is the BEST drunk to be drunk with, EVER. Oh and the 2am search for ciggies - classic; running down the road for no apparent reason, JJT ringing doorbells asking for smokes, coming across some drugged up mandemz (actually, he had green circles around his eyes, and I 've realised: I'VE GOT GREEN CIRCLES AROUND MY EYES. Someone's drugging me.), getting to a closed "open 24/7" Tesco... I swear, that only happens when I'm out with them.

My parents got well pissed..off. Because I couldn't take the train back (missed the last one. and various other reasons.) I had to call my mum up. Yep, my mum. Ok lol, she's not actually that scary. But she makes me feel so bad AND she makes me feel like I've committed some kind of heinous crime! It doesn't last long, but when it's there, it kinda sucks. Then the next day, back at home, my dad came into my room (which he rarely ever does), and asked what had happened last night (he rarely ever asks about my nights out either), so er, yeah, FREAKOUTDAD alert. I think he thinks I'm sleeping around..or something. Cause he asked where I slept, and I said 'my friend's', and he asked 'Who?' (like, in that I-think-you're-about-to-get-into-some-shizzle-if-you-don't-give-me-the-right-answer kind of voice), so I said 'J', which is their name. "Oh." Problem solved. But, lol, he thinks I'm fucking around. I'm probably a much better girl than he suspects.

Something I took away from that night though: appreciate what you have. I discovered some things I really could not have guessed beforehand, and I'm understating it to say that it was upsetting. They say that you don't realise what you have until you've lost it. Well I've had a precursive taste of that, learning what my friends had in their lives. I have no idea in the world what the fuck can I do to help them, and all I want them to know is that I'm here for them, and I'm not the only one. I'm really not the only one who's here for you.

xxxx

p.s. sorry if I don't - make - much - sense today...