Monday, 7 November 2011

It’s been a while! France was awesome and crap at the same time. It was awesome because my exchange was lovely, and I went on my first Quest, had my first drunken experience and talked to one of the most popular girls in my school without wanting to cry (most of the time..). Well, actually, that’s a lie – she made the trip crap (and you’ll never guess who I sat next to on the Eurostar home...) because she outshined me in every possible way and...we’ll get to that in a minute.
Quest for a Social Life No.1: Foreign House Party.
Yes, you read that right. I swapped my Maths for Malibu at a stranger’s house and it was amazing! I was with a really popular girl who is stunning and blonde and beautiful and makes every boy she meets fall in love with her (literally – except for the mingers, they all settled for me – yay...)and we shall call her S, like Serena from the Gossip Girl books, because that’s what she is. She’s beautiful and she knows it – I know that’s not a reason to hate someone and I don’t hate her as such but I do strongly dislike her. We were walking down the street one day and I was standing 2 metres away from her and this old guy stoppedat stared at me (which was creepy and also bewildering – since I looked like a mess and I remember wondering why he wasn’t looking at S) and she, alter on, told everyone how scared she had been for her life and how she hates it when people stare at her (no joke, she said them exact words-  as if it happens all the fracking time). I’m going off topic. We were at this party, I thought I looked pretty OK until I saw her, so effortlessly cool in her outfit and turning heads. I was completely Off-My-Face and I thought most of the boys in the room were wildly attractive, but there was one in particular. “Strip” shall be his nickname because he did just that to the song “I’m sexy and I know it” but ‘Sexy’ is probably a better nickname for him. He was 1000% my type: a boxer who doesn’t drink and takes care of girls – albeit he’s not afraid to hit one [he playfully hit me]. I became infatuated with him and began to glow with glee when he pushed me on the swing and asked if I was OK, as well as protecting me from the Minger who kept stalking me to the toilets and talking incessantly about Bob Dylan (who I mistook for Bob Marley and started rambling on about how much I love the song “No Woman No Cry”...). But, alas, Strip was in love with S – literally infatuated. The day we came home he messaged her on Facebook, telling her how much he loves her. Not fair at all!! She doesn’t remotely like him! Must calm myself – I’m in love with Knight after all. Before collapsing in S’ room from the amount of alcohol I had consumed I decided to drunk call my beau. My beau (Knight) is away at the moment in Tansania and I thought this was in Greece at the time of me making the longest call ever. Oh, no. It’s in fracking Africa. So my phone bill is now as long as S’s legs and I’m going to die!! Well, anyway, he was very sweet from what I remember and was coaching me on how to stay sober and he’s such a babe in general (he kept repeatedly asking me if anyone has touched me and he spoke very firmly and defensively). I think that every drunk girl should have a Knight.                                                                    

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