Tarts Party
The most important MUGSS party of the year finally happened, and for once I attended. After not being able to come up with an idea for ages, and thinking I was more broke than I was and hence unable to buy anything, I was getting pretty worried. After all, I have a reputation to uphold here - I do fancy dress well!
Well, the day before I thought of a concept. And on the morning I realised I had at least a little bit of money to spend on it.
I went as a dog.
Woof.
Apparently I "outdid myself", so I think it worked.
The party itself was great, hosted by Sam & Charlotte in their nice city centre flat.There was the odd moment of debauchery — not involving me, of course — and a rather impressive display of costumes. Special mentions must go to Michael Sparks (very good) and Dan (oh my eyes). It’s a pity it ended at 2am, rather shocking for a MUGSS party but everyone just seemed to go home at ridiculously early hours. Fortunate in a way, though, as I’d drunk a 35cl bottle of rum (neat) plus some punch and finally began to feel drunk on the way home. By the time I got off the bus I was staggering, and after about 10 minutes of sleep I woke up, body a’trembling, and realised I was going to have to be somewhat sick. The only question was whether I could calm my distraught belly down enough to get to to the toilet first. (I was)
I’ve not got used to drinking spirits yet, I would say.
So, today I felt fine, though a little disoriented. Made a nice pork roast for myself, Pete & Sarah before catching the end of the Four In Hand pub quiz with them, Mahinda, Jenny and some randoms. We won.
Now… now, I want to talk about those icky little things I call feelings. Sorry. Not sure what I want to say, really, only that I feel the need to talk about them!
I have to question my motivation here. I suspect that I post/tell people stuff like this is that, by bringing it all into the world, something might happen. I’m obviously incapable of effecting change myself; other people, directly or not, at least can make something happen. Though they generally don’t….
Anyway, I’ve got to stop having what I think of as "spectator syndrome." I always feel like I’m on the fringe of social activity, not so much unable to take part but as if it’s not for me to do so. Perhaps that’s why when I’m being outgoing I’m so aggressively… random. Ah, I don’t know.
Really feeling the lack of a crush… or, here’s a new word I learnt today courtesy of Gillian K’s blog, limerance. I know that they aren’t healthy, but I feel so bored and frustrated without one. Life’s much more colourful, exciting and real when I have someone to think about.
Even though I’m pretty much over L, I still feel a certain… well, I suppose if I analyse it (I had been thinking about it as a sort of mental toothache), it’s a sad anger (at myself!) about it all. The worst thing is that we are both now clearly uncomfortable in each other’s presence (precisely one of the reasons I didn’t try to do anything in the end was to avoid this possibility, and well, so it goes). I would just like to clear it up… it should be so easy, and yet all we do is avoid each other’s eyes and company. For no good reason. To tell the truth, this does not make me a happy bunny. It is this sort of meaningless, absurd inaction and snafu that seems to define my life.
I still feel the urge to write more, and still don’t know what to say. I should go to bed, and instead I’m looking at this post and hoping the next thing I type will change my life.
