Last night I went out for the first time in nearly two weeks. My body wasn't used to the alcohol - I felt sick after two small glasses of wine so did the only sensible thing and moved onto jugs of Blue Lagoon. Then alcopops. Then bottles of Carling. No wonder I feel like small hammers are attacking my brain and a firecracker gone off in my stomach.

Last night was the third time I've been to Po Na Na since starting university. And the third time I have walked into a mirror in there. For some reason I thought the mirror was the entrance to the toilets. No it was not. Still, I didn't feel too bad when later on a rather drunken man walked into another mirror and took at least ten seconds to realise what he'd done. He even tried pushing it to see if he could get through. How I laughed.

I remember coming home and chatting drunken bollocks to Tori until about 3.00 am, showed her my magical potato that had sprouted red stuff. Then poured ketchup and plunged a screwdriver into it. Then put the pool table (which was legless, as was I. Oh ho what a shit joke) and started trying to skate up and down it.

Then I went to bed.

Then I woke up and was infuriated by a telesales person phoning my mobile at 9.30 bleeding am. I hope she gets attacked by a daddy-long-legs.

I didn't sleep again after that, but layed in bed reading (I've nearly finished To Kill a Mockingbird - very good). I need to go buy some train tickets in a bit because I shall be staying at the boyfriend's this weekend. I'm meant to have decided upon my dissertation title in just over week, but eh, I think I'll just ignore it for a little while longer.

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