In the morning, I woke up relatively early, as I never sleep that well after I've been drinking. So I was actually awake when the Tall South African texted me at 8 AM to laugh about my late-night text to him the night before, where I'd mentioned how many nice things Lotte had been saying about him.
I spent ages texting back and forth with the Tall South African before he just picked up the phone and called. I suppose I had been waiting him out on that one, to see which one of us would break down and call the other first. I filled him in on the nice things Lotte said about him the night before, although I feel like I was missing some details in my fuzzy head. As well I talked about how I never actually get to see him, and I hope he'll come to London soon.
I then got going to go play my 11 AM squash game with Sophie, although she was late because she had been frantically cleaning her room in the hopes that Witty Windsor Boy might come home with her later this evening and sleep with her. I had to laugh at that, because I could totally imagine doing the same, wanting to have my room look halfway decent and organised just in case there was a chance I might get lucky. And who says boys are the only ones worried about getting laid? I totally managed to beat Sophie in the game when she finally got there, as she just wasn't putting enough effort into the game and really going for all of her shots. Oh well, we all have our off-days, I suppose...
After squash, I received a few text messages from friends alerting me to the fact that Drunk Girl has been posting some rather cryptic status updates on her Facebook page, leading people to wonder if perhaps she has been banned from the Lansdowne? Checking them myself, they did seem rather melodramatic, although of course were incredibly vague, in the way that overly-melodramatic girls will be. I don't know why people will do that, posting messages about how upset they are, and then not tell anyone why. I showed Sophie, who agreed it did seem interesting, although not knowing anything more, we decided to just wait for further developments.
We left the club and Witty Windsor Boy arrived to join Sophie and go watch the rugby with her, so I left them to make my way up to Highbury & Islington, where a bunch of people from the running club were gathering to watch the England vs. Scotland game.
It turned out to be a bit of a pain to get there, as the Victoria line was down (the only one that goes to Highbury & Islington station), but after making my way back on a bus, eventually joined the crowds in the pub somewhat into the first half. Princess, Matt, Ginger Lawyer Guy and a few others from the running club were there, and so I had a fine time standing around drinking water (still so dehydrated after squash!) and catching up with people. It was a good game, as England won the day, even with a relatively new and inexperienced team. I spent most of my time talking to Matt (of course), although I did have fun joining in a conversation for a bit with Princess and another girl about Princess' recent break-up from his girlfriend, and how he'd sort of "ceded" the hash to her, as he felt she needed the social support. And it was funny, because all of the behaviour he described from her (telling how much she didn't need him, then calling him while drunk to beg him to take her back) sounded like all of the desperate behaviour many a girl in their early-20's has done for eons. Why do we never learn? Oh well, hopefully she will get over being young, and eventually recover from the break-up. It's always harder being the one dumped however, so I do have some sympathy for her, despite her obviously counter-productive behaviour.
After the game, Matt's girlfriend Mo arrived, who I had not seen in MONTHS, and so I was very excited to get a chance to see and catch up with her. (I had a funny moment when I properly introduced myself to her, as though I didn't know her, which gave her a good laugh). Matt is one of my favourite guys of all time, although I can't help but think that part of the reason he finds it so easy to be friends with me is that I'm such good friends with his girlfriend as well.
I would have stayed longer to chat with Matt's girlfriend, except that I'd promised Sophie and Witty Windsor Boy that I would join them at this "Something New" party this evening. So I said my good-byes to everyone, and then headed out, where I discovered that it had begun to snow!
I got home and took a shower (my first of the day, and desperately needed after my squash game), and seriously debated staying in. The snow was coming down quite heavily at this point, and my flat was so warm and cozy. Why go back out into the storm? Yet I felt like I'd promised Sophie, and so grabbed an umbrella, but on some boots, and went out again.
When I got to the party, there turned out to be a £7 cover charge to get in and then it was another £1 at the cloakroom to leave my coat. I was rather annoyed by this, and so resolved not to give them any more money that evening by having anything to drink. The venue was incredibly loud as well, and most people were therefore crammed into a tiny back room trying to escape the deafening noise on the dance floor. It was so loud, it was like trying to have a conversation in the middle of a nightclub, and I found that I could barely talk to anyone. I therefore did not meet many new people (the ostensible purpose of the party), instead just spending my time chatting to Witty Windsor Boy, a South African guy I knew already from the Lansdowne, and another school friend of the South Africans. Nick, I think his name was. He was rather cute, and I enjoyed talking to him, although it was so loud it's not like we managed to really talk much. I refused all offers of drinks because I hated the overly loud nightclub, and really was counting down the minutes until I could say I'd put in a proper appearance and could leave again.
Sophie at least seemed to be taking advantage of the nightclub by going off and dancing with lots of people, so I mainly hung back talking to Witty Windsor Boy. I'd known Sophie told me that part of the reason she had to clean her place, and that they couldn't go back to his place, was that he'd once hooked up with his flatmate. As we were talking, he told this story, although apparently he'd had sex with her on multiple occasions, and had then also bemoaned that he'd been too drunk to really remember it, so not only had he screwed up his living situation but hadn't even gotten to enjoy it!
I thought that it might make him feel better to tell the story of how Joel had messed up his work situation by sleeping with his boss' secretary, but Witty Windsor Boy had one more detail of the whole thing to win the "worst move ever" contest: His flatmate was also his landlady. Yikes!
Finally around 11, we all decided we should go somewhere else. I of course did not need much persuading to go along with this idea, given that I'd been wanting to leave this place nearly ever since I arrived. I got my coat and joined the others, but then I found myself standing around with the South African posse while we waited for Witty Windsor Boy and Sophie to finish making out with each other. Any doubts I'd had about whether he really liked her and how much was just her wishful thinking were pretty decisively put to rest. So we all stood around awkwardly for a bit, waiting for them to finish up.
We then got outside, where the snow was still coming down, and it was about 3-4 inches deep on the ground at this point. Cabs were nearly impossible to find, and traffic (and therefore buses) were barely moving. Joys of living in a city with no snow plows.
So while the rest of the crowd debated where we should go next, I said good-bye to the South African posse, and decided to catch the Tube home. After all, it was nearly midnight, and I'd already had a decent night out!
I got on the Tube, and when I sat down, the guy sitting across from me turned out to have the same stamp on his hand from the nightclub I'd just been at. I was suspicious at first when he struck up a conversation (he seemed incredibly middle-aged and had terrible teeth), but it turned out that he was an ex-pat who had spent years living in Egypt, and had some interesting perspectives on the recent "Arab Spring" uprisings there that ousted Moubarak.
When I departed the train, he didn't make any effort to come after me (unlike some encounters I've had on the Tube!), but just told me, "Have a nice life." Kind of a weird thing to say (Wouldn't, "have a nice evening" have been less strangely final?), but still did make me feel like at least I'd met one nice new person out of the whole thing!
I walked home in the snow, enjoying the gentle hiss of the snow softly falling on the silent London streets. Sometimes, this city truly is a magical place.
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