New Year's eve was...it was alright. It won't go down in history as one of my best, but it will be remembered. The party consisted of mostly grebo-types and heavy metal music (which made me want to remove my ears and keep them in my pocket all night in order to PROTECT THEM FROM THE PAIN) but at midnight were fireworks. I didn't want to go outside as I didn't have my shoes on. Luckily some random girl decided she would give me a piggy back so I could enjoy the delights. I think her spine began breaking after about three seconds though, so I had to be put down on a chair.

A short while after that I accidently ate a glow stick. Yes, you heard right, I ate a glow stick. Unintentionally. I had been chewing it and didn't realise it had split right open in my mouth. I'm a complete idiot, obviously.

And the next day I was ordered out of the bathroom so Tori's boyfriend could puke up everywhere. I'm proud to say I didn't have a smidgen of a hangover due to sticking to wine and actually stopping drinking sometime before 1 o'clock. I'm so proud of myself.

This evening I'm going out in London, with nowhere else I'd rather be, and I'm not going to feel guilty about it because the fact of the matter is I have CONQUERED the bastard essay!

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