Emma and Giselle had their birthday party in bloody Seaford on Wednesday, right after I got off work. I got to Flinders Street Station after work, and met up with Emma, Jeremy and the rest of the emo kids I'm fairly sure Emma picked up randomly. There is no shortage of those at Flinders! One, with purple hair, was probably the dumbest guy I've ever met, which was an endless source of entertainment for Jeremy and I - every time he opened his mouth something idiotic would come out, no joke, and we'd just look at each other and start sniggering.
Jeremy: So, how much did you make today?
Me: Eighty-five dollars.
Purple-hair: Yeah, that's like. . . [ten second pause, in which it appears he is thinking incredibly hard] eight. . . sacks of goon.
Predictably, most people started getting drunk as soon as they arrived, and the vast majority of people there were hammered by seven-thirty. One of the emo kids was on coke (what a douche), I think - coincidentally this was also the emo kid Jeremy kept on making out with. It was kind of hot. Actually, a LOT of the boys kept hooking up randomly, which was really, really surreal? Jeffkins brought hs girlfriend, who was dressed up as a pirate because it was a costume party, and she was basically the most adorable thing EVER. At one point Sean and I were on a couch, of sorts, armed with drinks and a copy of Sylvia Plath's 'Collected Poems', which then led to me beckoning people over and yelling stanzas I randomly flipped to at them, which was great. Two standard drinks turns me into a monster, apparently. Then again, I'd do that when I was sober, so I don't know what that says about me. Speaking of which, finally finished the damn book at work yesterday. I am still not the biggest fan of Plath, and dear God she got fairly obscene in the last two years of her life - but some of them I quite liked, 'The Queen's Complaint' and 'Edge' especially. For the more literarily-inclined kids on the flist, is The Bell Jar any good?
I got two hours of sleep that night, despite the fact that I went to bed at eleven, because drunk kids are NOISY! Then left for work at seven with Sean, who came with me to the station and headed back to the city. Work is proving to be quite good yet terribly embarrassing, owing to the dirty looks the guy working with me and I received at a lot of stores on asking to purchase cigarettes. Three people yelled at us and sadly, the urge to hug them and congratulate them on their resolve and inform them that I'm-only-working-so-don't-think-too-badly-of-me is pretty strong yet I must resist lest I GET FIRED!!
HERE IS A POLL, IF YOU FAIL THIS YOU WILL FAIL THE SEMESTER
I SHOULD SPEND THE $175 DOLLARS I MADE ON
TEXT FIELD GO
In capschat yesterday. the topic swung to our heights, and I informed my fellow capslockers that I am actually only 150cm tall (this is about 5"0', I think?). About half an hour after I logged off, I suddenly thought to myself "hang on, I can't really be that short, can I?" So I grabbed a measuring tape, drew a mark where my head was on my wardrobe, and really-boring-story-short I am in fact 152cm tall and a midget.
Coral and I traipsed off to the city today - first to Max Brenner's, where we ate enough chocolately crap to make us feel like munting for the next hour, went up to the fifty-fourth floor of the building next to Melbourne Central for absolutely no reason other than it was convenient and there was a REVOLVING DOOR, deposited my monies at Commonwealth Bank, tried to get into the Eureka Building then complained loudly to ourselves when we discovered it was nine dollars to get in if we weren't residents, went on the ferris wheel kind of near Federation Square, had a peek at the 'Famous' exhibition at the State Library and wondered whether we'd see my old Philosophy teacher there and fapped to the photo of Rudolf Martin (who played Ari in NCIS). It was GOOD CLEAN FUN. Ah, god, who in their right minds would believe that?
I need sleep so bad.