Last night = pure gold.
Fucking oath.
Man - So our house has been planning a cocktail party for about a week and a half. We stole Shani and Anna's cocktail book, had about $300 worth of booze. It was ready to be fantastic. Primed to be fantastic.
And it was.
So we are all making these crazy insane cocktails, mostly from the book, a few that we made up - Katherine's Wright/Right Champion, Carwyn and I's Irish Fancy, and Carwyn's The Virgin's period.
We got told off several times for our noise level, and at one stage had one of the wardens, Chris, coming over. Carwyn did not help the situation.
"It's all good, Kevin, don't worry about it, there's just a little noise."
"Carwyn, it's Chris, not Kevin..."
"Bollocks! It's Kevin!"
And we drank more, and laughed more, and made more noise.
I can't even begin to list the amount of alcohol and the variations we had. But good lord. It was a lot.
Anyways! Photos. They explain it all.

( drunk folk a plenty. Hilariousness ensures. )

Results from our drunken mess:
Essie tried to make it into town with Charlotte, Bridget and others. Too drunk - Essie comes home and proceeds to vomit all over her room.
The Irish Fancy is born. Carwyn and I hide the remainders in one of my bottles to be drunken later - apparently it is like the Da Vinci Code or whatever.
We bugger off to some other party which has nowhere near the coolness value to ours.
Katherine and I end up in P ups in Jack (and) Daniel's Room, where I proceed to insult everybody magnificantly.
Return later to find Carwyn asleep in my bed. Shove him aside and he is very warm so I let him stay.
We bicker for a long time - as per usual. Our fighting is what makes our relationship awesome.
Hear Bridget and her boyfriend next door fucking. Carwyn bangs on their door once, as well as yelling, "EACH THRUST IS ANOTHER NAIL IN BABY JESUS' COFFIN!"
Continue our arguing and me trying to convince him he had never concieved a baby with Anna (which is true) up until when Katherine comes. Fall asleep with the boy.
Wakes me up at 3am by fucking off back to his bed. Which was sort of good because I wasn't sleeping very well but sort of bad because he was warm.
That .. was about it.

Oh, and an Irish Fancy, as written down drunkenly last night.
- Midori (lots)
- Everglades Strawberry Liqeur (lots)
- pine melon juice
- ginger ale.

It is truly fantastic. Looks like shit, tastes like gold.

Amazingly not only have I done both of those essays, but they seem to also be pretty good, according to Essie, my darling second year flatmate who does English and as such as well, who I had read them.

Man, I am so impressed with myself.
How hugely satisfying that I actually got them both done on time! I'm so godddamn happy. =D

So basically I've written around 2800 words over the weekend for two seperate subjects. C'mon, that is something to celebrate. Which I will be doing, after I get home from uni today.

Anyway, so I was kind of going insane yesterday with stress, but considering I actually managed to finish them, I don't see what I was panicking about.

My moods have been not quite so good lately, but I think this stress had a lot to do with it. Now that they're over I don't feel quite so bad. My unhappiness is not quite so apparent, I still am lonely but this temporary sucess is pushing it away and even though I still don't know what "Depends on the situation" means... Well, y'know.
I spent too much time wallowing in my own self-pity.

I am fine again. Well, I am still sort of unhappy, and I still don't really know where I'm going, but at least... y'know, at least I'm getting there. Some of the bumps are getting sanded over.

God, am I tired, though. It's amazing how just sitting there writing essays drains you.

"I have a story in my head, like a butterfly in a glass, and it's untouchable beauty torments me." - Leon de Winter

Well.
I have two 1500ish essays due on monday.
Neither of which I've really started...

Yeah, I know.
Fuck.

What the fuck has been happening to me lately?
I gotta check when I last updated. Everything is a crazy blur, and these past two weeks have literally been insane. I need to pull myself to-fucking-gether. Now.

Last two fridays I have been drunk by 6pm. Yes. Going to dinner drunk, barely able to see, and giggling about the stirriness of the mashed potato on my plate. Whispering across the room to Shani (which was pretty much loud talking behind our hands) almost losing my piercing in my potato and -
Oh yes, by the way. I got a monroe piercing (which is the upper lip and to the right, if you didn't know) on tuesday really.. just because I could. Freya and I went into Tattoo City on Cuba st and all of a sudden I am asking how much monroes cost, and they are telling me then I am getting out money and coming back to have them stick a needle through my face and the scary thing is, it felt so. fucking. good.

Oh yeah - then a breakdown last weekend, getting four hours sleep, realising I actually wanted to die, climbing a mountain to the top of the world and standing up there in the swirling grey with the wind so strong it nearly through me off, i was sure. All I had to do was let go of the ground. From my vantage point I surveyed the whole city and looked down at Oriental Bay and the sprawled suburbian mess and the high rise buildings and the bleak weather was perfect.
I felt enlightened then.

Then a 40% Anthropology essay was due on friday which was yesterday and I did manage to do a pretty good job, I think. I handed it in, came home, sat around for a bit, then proceeded to get drunk.

Ended up at dinner time smelling of strong liqour and laughing, laughing, laughing. Swearing like a sailor and such. I actually love going to dinner drunk on fridays - I think it's great, but really, it does nothing for people's impression of me. Two weeks in a row. brilliant.

After that I ended up all over the place and I can't really remember but it wasn't important. Oh, ringing Patrick and telling him "I love you, I love you, I love you."

The end of the world as we know it, and we don't care.

Then we are adventuring around people's rooms and demanding to know "Where the fuck is Dylan?!" (We were looking for my Black Books dvds, y'see) and we end up in the boy I kissed two weeks ago room and he is looking at me and smiling and I have to leave.
This morning him and I sat calmly and had lunch in the sun, chatting boredly about things that don't matter.
I am tired.
Then we are in Jared's room and he is upset and crying then I am because of my self-worth issues and Katherine is just because she's a sensitive soul.

Katherine and I stole pasta from someone's room and a bowl from someone elses. I wrote her obituary on a piece of used napkin in the dinner hall - we thought it would be hillarious if we were to announce our engagement for the first week in the dominion post, then our marriage the next week, our adoption of a child in the week after and finally Katherine's death the next. We are cruel fuckers with a crueler sense of humour.


I want another piercing, too, or a tattoo or something. I don't know. I don'tknowIdon'tknow.
I love you all but part of me thinks I may be going crazy. Properly, finally, losing it.

So I sort of don't know.
I am very very tired after walking up and down godforsaken hills all day.

Last night was quiz night at the Quiet Lady - our little group managed to do alright in the music section but that was about it.
Our little group, has always been, and always will - until the end...

Vague mentions yesterday by Shani - Our group should get a flat together next year.
I know it'd be amazing but I'd never do any work.

I like learning and university, I've noticed. Quite a lot. It is amazing to feel challenged and that I am putting my brain to good use. I think I could spend my life just learning over and over and over...

After the quiz thing a few of us wandered down to the park again. I walked home, sober and alone. It was cold so I left early and thought about Patrick, about disconnection, about how nowhere really feels like home.

I think really the only thing that ties me down to Wellington - to New Zealand - is the study. People bitch here about how its not for them - well fair enough. I can understand. But I love it and it makes me want to not leave and there are a few people who keep me here, but..

I guess I am restless, still. Despite my drunken nights, the snogs, the people I surround myself with - it's not enough. Learning is more satisfying. Wow, what a fucking geek. No really - brain stimulation, nothing better.
Or perhaps I've just reached that state. I notice I've become fairly emotionless. Well, still am fairly emotionless. It's an ... easy way to live. Not exactly a good way, I don't think.
Or maybe it's just I haven't been here long enough to make it home yet.
You see, in the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - an interesting thing crops up. The idea that people feel more and more hollow the further away from home they get. Of course, in the book, it's barely ever felt by humans - the most they can get away from home is y'know, in the earth's circle. But in Ford and Arthur's case, their home planets are destroyed, so they float around rootless, unsure of what is home.
I wonder - what if you've never felt like you've had a home?
Like a proper one - I mean sure, I think that my mother's house is a place I could always go to but I never would assosiate home town with Kaikohe. I could never live there again. I'm amazed I survived 15 or so years there.
Here - here is hardly home - even though I call it that because it's easier than complicated explinations. What is it? Just a room in a series of rooms, with a big dining place and a whole lot of students.
Wellington sort of feels like home - I mean, I like it here. I really, really do. But I don't feel connected, y'know?
So I sort of feel hollow, sort of lost, sort of unsure of really where I left and where I am going. I want to feel secure and embedded and in whatever system I decide to place myself into.
But I don't know what system I want to be in. I just want it to hit me in the face while I'm walking around.

I don't know how long I'll live in New Zealand after I finish my degree. I think I will return here, one day - but soon, in a few years... No. There is too much world to be adventured to stay here. Too many places I need to go, too many people I need to meet - what I have at the moment, it's sort of... temporary satisfaction. But it's not enough, you know?
But then again, will it ever be enough? Perhaps that's why people like me turn to religion. Or is that the easy way out?
Heh, we decided I'm going to learn a little about scientology and then go around saying I'm a scientologist. Just for fun.

Anyway, maybe I'll just get drunk - again - and forget about it.
It's a whole lot more easier that way.

One of my repeated lines to Carwyn/other males.
Freya and Shani have confessed to loving the way I drink. ...Vodka straight from the bottle.

So anyway last night the hall had a party. A P party wow cool alright. You were meant to go all, 'something related to the letter P' - personally I thought this was the stupidest idea they could ever come up with and I seriously hate them for it.
But it was kinda cool.
A few interesting ones - the guys in drag were great, and Anna dressing up as Helen Clark (Prime Minister, obviously) was wicked. Apparently she won best dressed but wasn't there to recieve it.
We left at around 9:40ish, ended up heading to the park at 10.
Best scene ever - Carwyn barefoot in his purple polkadotted dress and small bust, Anna in her Helen outfit, Katherine in her creepy pedophile jacket and Lara dressed as a cool 80s punk. My hair was insane. Nicola was there too but less dressy like us.

Some how I ended up in male clothes. Carwyn's shirt, my man's waistcoat and a pair of grey jeans.

We bugger off to the park and Shani, Freya and Miranda were there already. Shani was this cute as hell little paper doll, Miranda was another punk and Freya was the party. We play around on the swings and I drink vodka.
A lot.
And in the end I was the drunkest one there. A few other folks showed up too.
Arguing with Daniel about the pleasures of Gin, how Vodka is ick in comparision, but that I do drink both straight, because again - "I drink like a fucking man. I'd become one if I didn't love my boobs."
Huddled in between Carwyn and Daniel, my head was on the later's shoulder - and then some how we are kissing and I don't know how that happened. Shani sitting on my lap later and her warmness was nice, even for a little person.

But now I feel like fucking shit, had Matt dressed in drag as a punjabi prostitute put me to bed at 2am, and missing out on SSar's thing because I feel gross. Vodka makes me feel dirty.

And apparently Carwyn and I are going to the Quiet Lady tomorrow for a breakfast drink?
Strange boy.

Yesterday and this early morning has been THE BEST fucking time. OH YEAH.
excuse typos. It is 1am, I am slightly drunk.
So I went and got my asignment results yesterday... B+ and A- for Media and Anthropology! respectively
Caught the cable car and Peter was there! so I chatted to him and that was cool. What a lovely boy he is. Gonna see him tomorrow which is today.
thennnn went into town and browsed 5 cd stores, got assisted by a cute goth boy in one.. Looking for Wind in the Wires by Patrick Wolf you see.
Headed up Cuba after getting myself a thing of whipped frozen yoghurt.. ended up in Hunters and Collectors which is the fucking COOLEST uhm. Vintage clothing and furniture boutique. I have brought myself a waistcoat from there. Well, sort of. Gonna go and get it tomorrah. today. Sorry. It makes my curves (fat) look amazing.
Thheen continued up to Real Groovy and even they didn't have Wind in the Wires!
So I got it ordered through them through a nice man with super long hair.
Got the 6:10 home and acted all very responsible and got Patrick's birfday present organised raderaaraa. Which I am also sending todayyyyy.
Except I have to get the third and final part from te papa later.
Then at 11:30pm tonight - down to the park; drinking and smoking a plenty (not for me, however), playing on the swings (I won, bitches), more drinking
my lungs burn from the cigarette smoke in the mouth of the younger-Jonny-Greenwood-look-alike I snogged, and I can still feel his tongue.

Yeah. I fucking love Wellington. xD

Edit: Other things I remember in the morning - stealing a potplant from the Mexican embassy, a swing competition with daniel that I won by a) getting the highest and b) leaping off mid flight, screaming to him as we swung past each other the benefits of endurance for swinging and him getting cramp in his toe, Freya leaping into my arms which has made my leg worse to the point where walking is slightly difficult, Carwyn breaking a bottle, Freya screaming at Jiles the rights of sluts and made a girl named Sandi our God.

I now have an incredibly painful muscle in my leg, but it's all good.

Kat; where the hell are you?! I miss you like ... well, like I miss you. God. C'mon. I demand you come online now. Do you hear me? Now. I shall send you mental waves.

So it's funny when you leave home then you come back and things are different with your siblings.
I've discovered I've stopped being the "ugghh, annoying-older-sister-Lara" but become the, "cool-university-student-older-sister-Lara" which is quite nice. Like civil human conversations with my brother. Which really is quite cool. Like the fact he has a girlfriend and has asked her to the ball and I talked to him about corsages and such because Mum doesn't know about her yet.
I know the girl, though. Michelle. She's a sweet kid, so I have no issues about it really. Why should I? It's cute. She rung him twice this evening. Part of me suspects he asked her to at least once. If I think about it they make a good pair... heh.
Told him my idea of visiting the school next holidays. He thought that was neat. Man, it is sort of weird though, y'know? That everything is cool and fine and dandy with him. That he tells me stuff. I suppose it gets like that as you get older.

It is kind of good being away from the hostel. I've noticed I seem to become responsible for drunk people a lot which sort of irks me. I can think of several occasions where it has been down to me. I wish Katherine would act her age sometimes and that I didn't feel like I had to be responsible for her and help her make obvious decisions.

I like being back in Point Wells for holidays. I couldn't live here; it's too quiet and not enough happens for my liking. But it's nice and calm and I think in a bit I'll go for a little walk.
Beck is playing in the background. It makes my heart sing.

Got to call Patrick today. I love speaking to him and hearing his voice even if it is American accented. Sprawled out on my bed in the sun, knowing he was at his computer at around midnight. Both of us laughing across timezones at jokes I can't remember. Just that they were good; that everything was right; the things he says; the sheer amazingness of life, the universe, and everything; that despite having a few potiental lads around here I found myself falling deeper for someone a million miles away. And funnily enough; it doesn't bother me. I swear one day I'll marry that boy.

Electronica helps me study.
Speaking of, I have a 1200-1500 word essay on Fandom due on wednesday.
I have written 340 words of it.
I also have an anthropology test on wednesday as well.
All /very/ exciting.
I have just had a cup of coffee at 9pm. No doubt I'll be up for a while. Last time I pulled this trick it was literally impossible for me to go to sleep until around 2am. Ahhh well.

After that is the holidays, and I will revert back to the most boring life known to man kind.

However, I will see family, which really is good.

"Lara, your voice is so punk rock right now."
Darling Carwyn in response to me clinging to my throat and whimpering, "ah, my voice.."
Why?
Because I fucking lost it.

Last night blew my face off.
Bus at 10:10pm. I'm surprised Katherine and Bridget got on in the fucking state they were in. I was nearly sober at this stage but I hadn't planned on drinking too much anyway so it's all good. Had four quick fucks at home before we left.
At 10:20ish we fuck off into town and head up to the San Fransisco Bath House and wooowz, do I love it there. Had a shot of something else when I got there.
I had Anna's id on me to get in as she sort of resembles me. There was absolutely no problem there. We basically sailed on through after we'd paid the $15 for entrance. So we chill out around there and then the opening act for the Clash tribute band that we went to see played and they were alright and we danced around to them for a bit.
Let me mention here that I was wearing 4 inch stilettos.
And they were alright...
Then this guy that Bridget snogged last weekend was there and was like, "wow, how amazing, rararara." At first she didn't seem too happy about seeing him. Katherine was fucking dead almost.. like she was tired and so when the band started Bridget and I got up to dance.
Then at around 11:30pm this Clash tribute band started playing.
And wow, they were so great. And there's this seething mass of us and this huge range of people. Drunken old punks, younger kids, a whole load and range of us. They were amazing...
At this stage my feet were starting to get fucked. Do you know how hard it is to dance to this amazing punk cover band in shoes like that?
After a few songs we realise Katherine has gone. Bridget and I have a little freak out because we can't find her. We were going to go look for her then they played an amazing song which I couldn't miss; fucked if I can remember what it actually was... No idea.
So after the first couple of songs I know all the words and are basically singing/screaming along like the whole heap of us. I'm pretty much right against the stage. I'm covered in other peoples and my own sweat. It's disgusting but there's something truly fucking great about the atmosphere here. They were just.. awesome. All the good shit got played. I'm like dancing/moshing around with all these hardcore punk kids. One of them actually goes to uni as she has very distinctive hair but she was like the youngest of the lot. Most of them were easily hitting mid 20s-30. Alot of the political songs really got us fucking going, like we end up this crazy shoving mess.
We ended up hunting for Katherine, and eventually found her. Sitting backstage. So we hung out around there and it was good that she had all our shit but she had got vomit on my jacket. I was sort of pissed at the time because I missed Guns of Brixton and I love that song but otherwise their setlist was brilliant. At the end of their gig before the encore, we went and sat backstage with her again and the band came through who smoked and stuffs. We went back out for their encore - I ditched my shoes at this stage and it was brilliant. Could properly leap around. They finished their encore with White Riot, and we all went pretty much insane. We stole some of the backstage 420 water which was cool.
I loved it.
We left pretty soon after they finished at around 1am. Rocked into town for a bit and met up with Anna, Carwyn, Shani and Freya. My voice is absolutely fucked at this stage and I'm wearing no shoes. We sort of rocked around for a bit, thought about going into Cayotes but didn't.. Katherine, Shani and I ended up catching the 2:30am home and I rang Patrick in America at 3am but he didn't answer. Meh. Oh well.


AND! I got a high A- on first assignment! fuck yeah!

I'm a loser, baby! So why don't you kill me?
Today I have been irritated at a lot of people and it's not really fair because the majority of them haven't done anything. It's probably just me being a bitch, not being used to living with so many people and lack of sleep.
Which is funny because if I actually think about it and not the irritations, I have had a fairly good day.
Running and leap hugging Matt at university.
Seeing a boy named James who has invited me to a play tomorrow. I may just go.
Me: *had been sort of pushing and pulling at my hair and fringe as I spoke to him; I do this out of boredom*
Him: "Heh, your hair. It's kinda... sticking out everywhere."
Me: "Heh, oh, yeah... I do that sometimes.."
Him: "It's alright, it actually kinda suits you.."

I think I may also see Peter tomorrow and get this Radiodread album. Ooohh, yes, OK Computer treated in dub and reggae. It's pretty good from what my drunken brain processed on Saturday.
And Patrick too, hopefully. I have seen him around this week but haven't had the chance to talk to him which is a shame. Guess I'm just not hardcore enough for him, huh? This is what I secretly suspect. I am not really into metal, I don't smoke, I don't drink as excessively as him and I haven't done drugs. Not to mention I'm fat.
But he is editting my chapter, so it'd be nice to get his opinion at some stage.

However I really quickly got exhausted today which is annoying. Ten minutes of my Media Studies tutorial was spent watching the muscles move under the tanned skin of my tutor's arm. That's how bad it was. I wasn't staring at it in a sexual manner; I was just so exhausted that I couldn't concentrate on anything, unless it was that crazily mindless.

There is so much work I have to do.. I think I may get coffee. One of those none interesting posts.
Oh, yesterday I went shopping and brought a woolen top, a black hoodie over-dress thing, my new Nancy Drew jacket and a pink lacy bra with silk lining for $160, which is pretty good, considering the value of New Zealand dollars, and etc. I need to get a new pair of black jeans, too, as I have no black pants and I need some. durr.
Now to start this study. Yay.

So I have vague recollections of a wasted saturday. Never made it to that party.
Sprawled drunk on Peter's bed, dress sliding up my fishnetted legs.
Tried one of his caffiene pills to wake myself up - downed it with vodka.
10 minutes later I'm throwing up in the bathroom, then again.

Guess the caffiene pill wasn't the move to make. Not only did it go down with vodka, but there was a whole lot of it already in my system at that stage.
Peter was a sweetheart and let me go to sleep in his bed. He transferred himself to the couch. Wouldn't have minded if he'd stayed, but I just miss having someone to hold.

Sunday I slept a lot in Peter's deliciously warm bed. Emerged from there still in my dress but minus the tights and sit around almost as zombied as him watching Home and Away on tv. Played with Oscar, the flat's kitten, for a bit. Was good. Finished doing that at about 12:20. Caught the 12:45 home, after standing half dead at the bus stop - high heeled shoes in hand, along with bag and the bottle of vodka inside a borders bag.
Got home and was laughed at by Essie and Bex. We sort of tootled around reading and really doing bugger all until we decided to drive to the massive Warehouse in Lyall Bay. Stopped in at Katmandu or whatever it's called to get a long sleeved thermal thing. It's deliciously warm. Got a jersey thing from the Warehouse, along with two packs of popcorn, a double disc mix cd for $3 and.. stuff. I'm sure there were more but I can't remember. =/
It was nice. We sort of just slumped around in a sunday daze, and Bex and Essie are always cool.

Tonight is pizza at Hell's with all us Fuller House chickas. (minus Agnes) It's gonna be good.
Tuesday is seeing 'Notes on a Scandal' with Katherine.
Wednesday is getting money put into my account by ma and shopping for warmer clothes.
Thursday is so far nothing exciting, and I might just bum around on Friday.
Saturday is trying to see Wazzo Clash at the San Fransisco Bath House.
Sunday is cradling zee old head, and panicking about due assignments.

Oh, and classes.
Oh, and seeing Peter to get that Radiodread album off him. (All of OK Computer turned into dub! It's quite good.)
Oh, and New Plymouth on the 5th and hopefully seeing Ben.
Oh, and seeing Patrick at some stage.
Oh, my headache..

Radio's cold,
Soul is infected.
(One by one I'll knock you out)
God is alone,
Hardware defective.
(One by one I'll knock you out)

Yesterday night started out kinda shit. It actually started about 6pm.
Katherine was in Jack's bed and I had no one and this has been frustrating me somewhat. Because it has been like that for the month I've been here.
Most of my time my heart has been pretty much blank. Which I can live with. But in this week or so, loneliness has really started to settle in.

Last night I started drinking (unhappy, you see) at around 7/8ish. I was determined to finish off my sambuca. I knew well enough I could text Peter and most likely catch up with him.
At 9pm I gave in, slightly drunk, and did.
Got an invite to go into town and see this small little band. By 10ish I was fucking off all dressed and etc. Caught the bus. Went and got a burger at bk. This was probably a good idea - got some generally fattyish food into my system to balance the alcohol in my blood stream already.
Giggled away as some drunken (more than me!) kids hassled this emo guy and then a canadian guy in Burger King. It really was quite funny.

Peter met me there, and we go off to this little show. And they were actually pretty good. Hung around to about midnight there, we were the last to leave. By this stage it's obvious alcohol is affecting my movements - accidently losing my straws on to the floor and such, a small fumble of me holding the glass. I noticed that I drunk in twice the speed that Peter did - two gin and tonics for his one bottle of beer. But I love them! it's okay!
He laughed at my 40% rule.
Him: "...so you don't drink anything less than 40%."
Me: "Not usually. It's a rule. I feel kind of bad because I deviated from it the last couple of days. The Galliano sambuca is one of my favourites but it's only 38%.. I figure I can let it slide.."
Him: "Why did you make it in the first place?"
Me: "Well, everything I normally drink has at least 40%... Gin, vodka etc.. So I thought I'd just make it one. It's a good rule!"

I laughed at his caffiene addiction. It's actually really bad - he needs coffee/caffiene pills to go to sleep. Am I the only one thinking this is bizarre?

We rocked around to Midnight Espresso. Yummm. They have a cool interior and a cool set of bathrooms. I had iced coffee. Was good.

At 1am we think it's time we got me home because I am drunk and powered by coffee. Wander off to the bus stop.
The buses stopped running at 11:30ish.
They don't start again until 6:00ish.
I was stuck. And pissed off. I couldn't believe the after midnght service didn't run on week days.
A creepy guy comes along, walking between us and the bus timetable.
"Mmm, you're so lucky..."
Both Peter and I are all, "...wtf."
Creepy guy turns to Peter, "...You get to have her." And there's this gross moment where we both watch his eyes trail down my body and up again. Then off he goes.
It could have been really awkward mainly because he hasn't had me or anything but it could've happened if he kept buying me g&ts. I broke the ice with, "ewww, creepy old guys..." and whimpering away.
So we decided we'd walk back to my place.
Yup, walk. at 1:30amish. Off we trooper.
Then we find a poster/advertisement stand for like bands and shit. So we're sitting on the side walk, and Peter is stealing me this The Clash poster (advertisement for a The Clash cover band) and I steal this old poster for the Gay and Lesbian festival which I am going to give to Matt. A few people walked past us all like, "wtf are they doing..." Nobody really tried to stop us though. ^_^

So after collecting these two papers we walk off and have this long beautiful chat and such. It was actually really nice, hardly any human life or anything.
My favourite part of it all was when we decided we both wanted to be in our late teens for the punk scene. I've always felt this, but apparently he's been thinking of it too. Which is cool. I told him how I eventually intend to spray paint this massive concrete wall with, "I belong to the blank generation" - He liked the idea.

Then I found a hubcap which I also picked up and it's now sitting on the floor. I intend to hang it on the wall. Just because it was such a great night.

And now I've been invited to a party on Saturday.
And I am so fucking going. ^_^

T'day I missed a tutorial and rocked around to Peter's flat. It is literally a minutes walk from uni.
Sat on his bed, bounced up and down on it a little and looked at his photography on the wall.
"It's really good..."
"...Thank you."
He sounded so geniune when he said it that in hindsight I wish I'd been looking at him at the time, just to see his expression.
There are too many lads in my life who start with P. Well three. But that's enough.

I'm wearing Anna's jersey. It is warm and yum.
Had a passionate hug with Matt at dinner time. I'm pretty sure some people were jealous. (Even if Matt is a gay boy and I am just a lame short straight girl who cuts her own hair)

Finished that assignment. All well and good. Totalled like 619 words or something, so I met the limit quite nicely.

Katherine is smoking Benson and Hedges out our window but it always gets back inside.

I'm going to get myself a zip-up hoodie that says,
I belong to the
BLANK GENERATION
on it. On the back.
And maybe Billy printed on the front.

And wear it as much as possible.

An update on previous entry of sorts:
- I turned down the 15 yr old on the basis of bad weather but more because I couldn't get over him being the same age as my brother. (basically.)
- Went and saw Hot Fuzz anyway with Bex, Bridget and Katherine. Fucking wicked movie.
- Felt guilty because I told the kid that I wasn't even going to be in town, the weather (which improved) was shit, I was tired, I didn't want to go out, I have an assignment due bla-fucking-bla. All of which was true at about 3pm but not true at 9pm or now or any other time in the future.
- Got an offer of sorts to see drunk Patrick but he was at a pub and they usually have bouncers at the door. This makes getting in slightly difficult as I have no form of id.
- I have written 70 words of my 600-700 word length essay. Woooo.

Tomorrow I am seeing a 15 year old boy to see Hot Fuzz at like.. 11:20pm or something.
I feel sort of like a pedophile; him being 15 and in highschool and me being 17 and at uni and all. He is 6'3 though and looks at least seventeen, and I am a rather mere 5'4-5ish..
(to be honest I just want someone who'll give me a quick snog somewhere. There's no way I'd be comfortable doing anything more. With him, anyway.)
Tomorrow is also Saint Patricks' Day. New Zealand Patrick is doing god know's what. I have not asked to see him, mainly because I knew he'd have other plans. He was meant to get back to me on some of my writing today, but hasn't done so... I am not too fussed. However I did see him on wednesday - we sat in the light drizzle at university for an hour, the sky was a light grey. Raindrops looked like crystals in his hair and his eyes I noticed are a very nice dark green. Cigarette smoke smells just so good on him.
...
You can tell who I refer to more affectionately.

In non-male related stuff,
At 8:20pm last night, Katherine, Bridget and I went down Blakey Ave on our office chairs. Blakey Ave is steep. Like it's an actual hill, and it is impossible to stop your office chair because of the amount of speed you pick up.
Do you realise just how plain awesome this is? Oh sure, we did suffer a few bruises. It makes for wonderful conversation though.

"I hurt my elbow."
"How did you do that?"
"Fell off my office chair."
...*small snigger*
"We went down Blakey Ave on our office chairs."
.... "That's fucking awesome!"/"You're a legend!"/"...you're fucking mad."
All of the above three have been typical responses.

Slightly sadly though - I've been asking people to kiss my elbow better. Truth be told - my elbow has now recieved a larger people range of kisses than my lips/face/whatever has. But I don't feel /so/ bad about this, because maybe if I went around asking for kisses for my lips like for my elbow, I'd have the same luck? Maybe.. ...One can only hope.

Um... assignment has been going well. I've been writing again.
actually I tell a lie. The only thing I have done of my assignment is 9 1/2 of the 10 questions. I now have to write 600-700 words of poetry analysis. Buuuut to be honest I'm not worried, as now I understand the poem (it clicked to me today after a couple of shots of galliano sambuca. Which is funny - perhaps alcohol helps you understand middle english better) which always helps for poetry analysis... understanding what's actually going on and all...

Recieved a massive letter from all of the year 13s today.. I love them all. ^_^
Hopefully my poster of shirtless Sid Vicious shall arrive tomorrow. It is A1 sized, and I will probably spend all morning drooling over it.

Things of interest.
- Cally is trying to meet Tommy Lee tomorrow. Oh how I am jealous. No really - Tommy Lee is walking sex. So I'm getting her to get him to write a note saying, "Billy, I'd do you given the chance. Love, Tommy."

- Someone got beaten to death on the streets of Wellington on the weekend. This has extensively bothered me. Not because of the 'dangers of the city' or anyhing, but because he is a person and fuck I wish I knew his name. It also bothers me I'm damn near mourning for a man I've never met.

- I have my first assignment due on the monday.

- I saw Shev - a girl I met once in New Plymouth - on the same cable car I happened to take. It was actually pretty damn amazing in my opinion. At first I didn't recognize her and sort of gaped and pointed as she was all, "Oh my god, Lara! I remember you!" and I was trying to slide out the door. Timing like this always amazes and greatly pleases me.

- Yesterday Freya snorted a line of salt. It was fucking brilliant to watch. She did it for - $10 and a chairman nomination. We're all going to vote for her now.

- I brought my new printer today. Hot damn.

- I'm writing again! also good.

- Tonight I'm buying an A1 poster of Sid Vicious shirtless to put on our wall and to swoon over when I go to bed.

That is what I'd look like if you shoved a camera in my face in a strange bar while I was against a wall and I was trying to look nice but get away. ...That, or you were suggesting bed and I was trying (but failing) to be coy about it.

Yes, the mole/beauty spot by my eyebrow is the best thing ever.

Hopefully when I get around to taking Patrick that bottle of jack daniels and my 2300 word writingging thing, I will manage to pull off looking like that again.
And maybe I'll get spared a second glance.
Maybe.

In other news,
( the boy I had to leave behind. )
Now I'm going to watch Mirrormask and text Katherine to find out how the Gay and Lesbian festival is going (which I should've gone to but didn't.)

* N.B. - this is just to humour my lame self-esteem.

Edit: Last night I came to myself in a dream. Future-Lara stood over me slightly. Her eyes closed.
"Don't fall in love, Lara."
And the future-Lara opened her eyes and they were beautiful. I felt I could trust her.
"I won't."
Then I woke up, because I had so blatantly lied to myself. I wonder if future-Lara knew I had.
Probably.

Truth be told, when he smiles at me, my heart gasps.
He turns me back into a writer.

Got home at 2:40am
sort of.
I think.

Found out one of the R.A's middle name is Mittens. Katherine was laughing on the floor of our lounge when Fen (another R.A) happened to walk in.
Bex: "Hey, um, Katherine, look up...?"
Katherine: "Woahhh, Hey Fen! Do you know about Mittens?"
Fen: "No...?"
Bex: "Hey Fen, I'm a mime, I can't move my fingers, what am I wearing?" *starts shaking her hands*
Fen: "..."
All of us are laughing hysterically now. None of us have had anything to drink, however, at this stage.
"Samwell's middle name is Mittens!"


We broke four rules of the hall last night: The two week liquor ban, more than two people drinking without a party license, drinking in a public place... Not to mention the underage drinking (only me, damnit) and the fact that Katherine brought me booze. South gin, baybees.
Jared, Matt, Aylana, Chrissy(I think?) rocked on down to hang out with Bex, Bridget, Esse, Katherine and I.

Had 8 g&ts last night at home and a couple of shots galliano sambuca when I went into town.
"Lara! I haven't even paid for it yet!"
"But you willlll!"

We ended up in a gay bar. Not sure how that happened. Only place I didn't get asked for id.

Talked to a bouncer outside the sports bar. He wouldn't let me in.
"So do you go to Victoria?"
"Yup!"
"Ah okay, so do I. What are you studying?"
"English. What about you?"
"Psychology. Had a bit to drink before you came out?"
"Yeaahh.."
"First year?"
"Yup.."
"That explains it..."
*pout* The bastard... Guess he was just doing his job.

Matt gave me second-hand smoke kisses. Not proper kisses because he's our second resident gay boy.

And wow.
What a wild and exciting life I lead.