After my late bedtime last night, it was nearly 1 PM before I managed to drag myself out of bed this morning (afternoon?), at which point I realised I needed to come up with a costume for the party I was going to this evening. It was two friends from running, Caroline and Flo, who were having a joint birthday party, and as such the theme was for everyone to come dressed as something beginning with "C" or "F".
I figured if I made a quick stop at Poundland, perhaps I could find some cat ears, which would give me a "C" costume. However, when I got to Poundland, I saw in the children's section, along with lots of ballerina skirts that were way too small for me, they had fairy wings! So for a pound, I figured that was a good deal. Went to Primark and got myself a pretty flower headband, and figured that if I did my hair in curls, I'd look very "fairy-like". No wand, but I wasn't going to spend even more money on a costume...
Got home, got changed, and made my way out to the bar where we were meeting, which was all of the way in Shoreditch (i.e. an hour's journey for me). When I arrived, I was horrified to discover that I was only the second person there and the only one in costume. Luckily I was there for only about 15 minutes before the rest of the crowds showed up, with the birthday girl dressed as Cleopatra, and the birthday boy as a Frenchman (complete with garlic necklace), which kind of seemed redundant since he is already French. There were cats, another Frenchman (this time with an onion necklace that smelled everywhere he went), cowgirls, Centurions, a commando, cops, a guy who came as Jesus Christ (I wondered if that were somehow politically incorrect), flappers, an Air Force captain, and a guy who came as a Christmas tree. Eventually this led to one of the best lines of the night when a random guy in the bar was overheard saying, "I must be on drugs. I swear I just saw Jesus talking to a Christmas tree." Hilarious.
The drinks in the bar were somewhat expensive (£8 for a double G&T? £4.50 for a bottle of beer?), but luckily quite a few guys watched out for me so my pocketbook was spared. Nice how I've come to depend upon that. Although in honesty, I was still so tired from the night before, I was just trying to avoid drinking too much, hoping that dancing would get me energized as it had the night before.
Yet, the music this time around just wasn't quite as good as it had been in the previous nightclub, so it was harder to dance to. It felt more like a "decades of dance" evening, with everything from ABBA to Will Smith's "Getting Jiggy Wid It" coming up on the playlist. Plus, my costume wasn't working out as well as I'd hoped, and I was feeling a teeny bit self-concious that both the birthday girl and another friend had gone for midriff-bearing costumes. No way would I ever bare my tummy in public like that!
I tried to amuse myself by talking to some of the birthday girl's friends, and she introduced me to this one guy who seemed really sweet and nice, but....no decent chat. And this is the thing that frustrates me about my life, is I meet tons of really nice, decent guys like this, but they just don't hold my interest. I wonder at times if I'm doomed to be single just because I can't meet guys who don't bore me to death in minutes.
Still, the running group was among the wilder people there, down to the presents exchanged. No joke, one of the runners got the birthday girl a "Smooth Groove" as a birthday present, which was a little plastic thingie that apparently could be warn "to prevent the unsightly problem of camel toe". Who on earth comes up with these things?
Finally at around midnight, I was just feeling too tired and too bored by the crowds to stay on. I feel like I should have gone around and properly said my good-byes, but I knew I would have problems fighting through the crowds in my fairy wings (which had already taken quite a beating as I tried to weave in-between people). So, as rude as it was, I just slipped out quietly and made my way home to bed.
I did get a bit of a surprise as I walked home however, when I saw there was a huge commotion going on outside a hotel at the end of my street. It turned out that the latest Irish Eurovision pop act, "Jedward", was outside in these ridiculous sparkly costumes and sky-high hairdos, signing autographs. I almost thought about joining the crowds and getting a photo, and then I realised that I'm not that lame. Time to just head home!
The next morning, while curled up on the couch, I learned from the birthday girl that the party had continued on until 7 AM at the flat of a guy from the hash who lived nearby. Apparently Princess' ex-girlfriend had hooked up with Sthweetheart, which was somewhat shocking, but since she was the one who got dumped and was in need of an ego boost, I certainly wasn't going to begrudge her of it.
I did make it out for a run, and then in the evening was surprised to end up in a late-night conversation with DD when he asked me to send along a photo that I'd taken of him the night before. He was surprisingly sweet, whereas he often alternates between desperately liking me and seeming somewhat irritated with me. I'm sure if I were to truly sit down and think about it, I could figure out what's going on there, but just can't really be bothered... Still, he said he'd see me on Tuesday, so I'm looking forward to it already!
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