Wednesday, 8 February 2012

Tiredness Level: Off the chart

I had a wonderful evening out, dressed as a glamorous film star at an awards ceremony, hollywood waves cascading over my shoulders and my bafta (gold spray painted mask) in hand.
Proubly displayed for the world to see (both my bafta and bra)
It looks a lot less impressive here but this is the clearest photo of my award despite me brandishing it rather frequently. One of the flaws though was that the gold paint wasn't water resistant so add a cocktail bar into the mix and a rather drunk group of students, well you can make your own conclusions but leats just say that by the end of the night, I was rather more metallic than I started.

It seems that the objects I take on socials attract an excessive amount of interest from the society members. The santa hat I took on the christmas social was swiftly whisked off, passed around and lost track of and the same applied with my mask this time. I saw so many people try it on that in the end I gave up warning people about the risk of getting a gold, glittery face and just laughed instead. My repeated dropping of the bafta also made it an easy target. I was completely sober. Yeah right.

It didn't matter though. I can't say I'm that attached to it although remarkably I did manage to bring it home with me, albeit with a lot less paint. I had an excellent night! Our bar crawl turned into predrinks on campus and then a big move to the cocktail bar in town. It was decided that it was too cold, people were ordering food and we are just too attached to our regular drinking haunt to cheat on it with anywhere other than the bar in town. You are looking at some very loyal customers here.

The walk to town is one I never want to repeat. In just a thin, tight dress, lightweight blazer and ballet shoes (because I can't go all night in heels) it was intensely cold. Minus temperatures had me shivering and we did not walk nearly fast enough to generate heat. Apparently it's rather difficult to herd a 30 strong mass at any decent pace. I do not envy the social sec his job of chivvying people along.

But once we finally got inside and into the VIP area, the free champagne was poured and heat was restored. We chatted and drank and danced and laughed and danced and drank and danced and danced. There were a few hiccups admittedly. The two drinks that were smashed on my feet were memorable parts of the night, who doesn't love cold, sticky, bruised feet? It was probably a good thing the alcohol prevented me from feeling the pain. My only other gripe is being danced with, nay, forced to dance with a drunk, lascivious guy who repeatedly pulled me to him and danced against me. It's not the dancing that I minded so much, normally I find it very enjoyable and a great way to connect with people but when he has a girlfriend and is very clearly coming on to me in a very dominating and not particularly attractive way... well that doesn't make me think too highly of him. By all means guys, dance with me, dance close, let your hands wander, lets laugh and you can try (and succeed) at out-dancing me but don't grab me, I'll come if I like you, don't force me feel you, all of you, pressed against me and for heavens sake be single! Or a fair friend. And be a gentleman; take my hand, lead me in, seduce me. Why does it seem that only men who are in relationships are interested in me? Or at least are interested in an obvious way, I'm not a mind reader sadly.

Regardless of my girlfriend/attraction confusion I had a really fun night. I love spending time with my friends outside of our usual setting of workshops and occasional film nights. I love dancing with people and chatting and getting tipsy together. I love making new friends, meeting new people and getting to know acquaintances better. I love dancing. Did I mention that? Its so much fun to lose yourself in the music, to just let your body move and your mind go free. Dancing with someone, a friend, an interest it doesn't matter, it draws you closer, you share the moment. Especially when you feel good and the group of girls behind you stop you to compliment your apperance, then it feels extra good. And when admiring eyes are on you... that doesnt feel too bad either.

Finally, at 2am I was ready to crash and I did just that after sprinting home through the bitter cold. Hardy Northerner I am no more.

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