miffedness

urgh. i need to catch up on the last few days! i desperately want to go to sleep. but more about that later. i wasn’t planning on drinking tonight but then mum opened a bottle of wine and said i needed to eat it with my pasta.. groo.. *wobble*

yesterday was fun. i met graham in the crappy (and too warm) wetherspoons in huddersfield, which is a bit of a trek for me. as i’ve mentioned before, graham has metamorphasised from monk to major party animal. but whenever i’m with graham i always seem to end up buying the drinks, which pissed me off after a while. he met me with about 30p in his wallet, so i ended up buying him a double vodka and coke (a red wine for me) and a slice of fudge cake (and a delicious belgian waffle and red wine for me). although he did make amends a little, he brought me my long-awaited birthday present (note: my birthday is on december 28th) – which was a bagpuss board game! i was very touched. i nor no-one i know has ever seen or heard of this game, he said he bought it from a weird shop in oxford. but it also made me feel a little bad, because i bought his birthday present for about £1 (honestly), it was a discounted glass tankard from clinton cards with buffy the vampire slayer on it. i said it was a compromise – he started drinking (he hadn’t at this point), but at least he could look at sarah michelle gellar in the meantime. he was extremely pleased with his present and seemed quite emotional and grateful, which made me feel a bit bad for spending a pound on it. still, it’s better than the scenario of spending £20 on someone and the receiver hating it.

i can’t stomach drink in the afternoon at all, so we wobbled to yates and a started munching on bad jelly vodka – which sobered me up quite a lot, which was strange. we talked about nothing in particular (quite a lot about the war, he’s turned a real vile toryboy since he went to oxford, the shit) and then i went home, trying not to fall asleep like most alcoholics do on the bus.

earlier on in the day, i’d got a text from oliver saying ‘you’re coming to my house and sleeping over, no arguments!‘ this pissed me off quite a lot. i can’t stand it when people order me around, because it immediately puts me on the defensive and makes me think ‘well, why on earth should i?’ but he’s been through a lot recently, so i text him back (a few hours later, hoping to give the aura of ‘miffedness’) saying i’d be there when i could. well, mum had made a meat and potato pie, there’s no chance i’d be missing that one! mmmm.

so, off to oliver’s (and a bit knackered, i’m not used to ‘doing stuff’ of late). the cheeky sod had made me buy him some fags on the way up to his house (him, like me, also lives in the middle of nowhere). the first hour consisted of him dragging away at cigs like there was no tomorrow, and bitching about everyone in sight. i’d also bought a bottle of wine when i was down at the shop (for the princely sum of £2.99) but we drank a bottle of his before we opened mine. christ, i tell you, i just wasn’t in the mood to drink (considering i’d got slightly merry and sobered up once that day) and i felt drained of any mood to entertain or even stay awake. we ended up watching the dating channel 2 on his tv – basically showing clips of blokes wanting to meet other blokes. groo. i’d had enough of bisexual (graham) and gay (oliver) men for the day, so i sat relatively quietly watching telly whilst oliver opened and sank my bottle of wine on his own (i wasn’t going near it – it smelt and tasted like horse manure). but that was only the start of it.

we went to bed (oliver has a nice big double bed, and it’s kind of the law for gay men and their mates to sleep together in the same bed so i put up no argument), and as he had an appointment at the doctors in the morning the next day, we went to bed about 12:30a.m-ish. i settled down to go to sleep – i’m a really good sleeper, once i’m out i’m out for the night. not to mention the fact that i was dog tired from socialising and drinking (it’s a hard life).

anyway, after about fifteen minutes i heard a zzz, then a zzzzzzzz. then i remembered that sleeping next to a slightly oveweight, athsmatic smoker who was extremely drunk was most likely going to result in him snoring. loudly. i thumped him, i pulled the blankets off him, i tossed and turned like an egg timer on the bed, it was no use. god knows how, i managed to go to sleep, only to be woken up by his snoring two hours later. this time it was unbearable. i text my boyfriend (quite harsh for him, thinking about it – ‘the boy i’m sleeping with is snoring too loudly!’) in an emotional rage. i was ready to commit murder. in my brief time asleep, he’d also become spread-eagled like a starfish on the bed, leaving me crushed beyond all recognition and slightly splattered on the wallpaper. luckily, before he was murdered with my bare hands, he quietened down. so off i dozed – and the fucker had the nerve in the morning to complain that i’d hogged the blanket!

i’m sleeping on the sofa next time.

a few hours later, i had to go home because of oli’s doctors appointment. jesus, i was knackered. after i’d come down off my little sugar puff buzz, i was angry with life. this included snapping at my boyfriend at my mother, and then getting upset. i cried for the war, my exams, my relationship, my friends.. but mostly, because i was just so very tired. but i felt a lot better afterwards – i cry about once every six months for no real reason. i’m not sure why. but i had a shower and got ready to go to town, because i had to take one of my textbooks back to the shop (i was reading it and noticed that thirty pages of it were missing!)

i strode through the door all confident, but then squeaked ‘excusemethisbookiboughtlastaugusthasthirtypagesmissingpleasecouldihaveanotherone?’

but the lady was very nice, and said i could.

when i was in sainsburys with my mother, putting the shopping on the till thingy so it could go through the beeper, the woman behind saw my textbook in the trolley, read the name (that being ‘the new british politics’) and gave me a look as if to say ‘you? read a book like that? as if!’ the cheeky bint! grrrr.