I say "drunken" too many times in this entry
15.11.05, 9:58 pm

I've just done a quick count and there's nine mugs currently in my room. One of them has a mouldy old apple core in it, and is hiding under my bed, and another is turned upside-down for some reason. They've probably all got old tea dregs in the bottom. This is one of my worst habits - leaving old tea dreg mugs around everywhere. Soon the housekids will start bitching about the lack of mugs, and then I'll have to smuggle some of them downstairs and wash them up without anyone seeing me. That can be a job for tomorrow morning sometime.

Last night was spent in The Springvale with the Neuroscience kids. Originally Amy wasn't going to come, because she doesn't really like fun, but then her house's power cut out and she realised that she had piss all reason to stay in. There were photos taken on Amy's phone, which I will post as soon as she sends me them, just so you can see me in my whole drunken glory. It probably won't be pretty.

I really didn't intend on getting that drunk, but halfway through the night someone had the crazy idea of getting shots, as they were 5 for �5. They did this amazing After Eights shot, which was lovely, and then sodding Paddy decided to get some sambuca in. Yeah, great idea. I checked my Sent Item folder this morning on my phone, and sent some really awful drunken texts, for example:

"no no, I'm totally sound for the tin foil, I can focus and everything! Have to go break the seal in a minute, and then have two drinks due, but it's fine! Ooh and go you, you're the first Z in my phone book. Woo and woo again! X"

Jesus Christ, just shoot me. Because the image of me going off to 'break the seal' is exactly what you want in your head. Paddy did give me a long drunken hug though, which was most appreciated, although I can't remember the reason for it.

Staggered home and wandered into Mel's room, seeing as nobody else was up, and you know there's nothing more boring (and old mannish) than being hammered on your own in your room. She completely took advantage of me, because she knows how sodding share-happy I get when I'm drunk. Seriously, I tell people anything they want to know, because I think it's the best idea EVER. So of course the whole Rich thing came out, because apparently everyone had been asking what was wrong with me all day, and the telling wasn't fun in the slightest.

And then we started talking about me, and why I'm the way I am, and how there's alwaus stuff that you don't know about a person, and then she started asking about my past, and I gave her the whole story, including my mum, my sister trying to kill herself, the fucking self harm, Bernie, everything. I'm such a complete dick sometimes. Why the hell did I tell her about the fucking self harm, why? I hate that part of me; I don't want anyone to have to know about that. And I know it happened years ago, and it's all understandable and everything, but I still hate it with a passion and wish it'd never happened. And god knows what Mel thinks of me.

Anyway, let's talk about something trivial! I haven't left the house today because I am original sloth, and have instead wankered about the house not doing work. We've got some more people coming round on Thursday to look around the house - I get the feeling the landlord won't be too pleased to find that I've been using the fire extinguisher in the kitchen as a coathanger.

Oh, and Neighbours was absolutely revolting today, with the whole Lynne romance thing. God, I just wanted to vomit everywhere.

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