Happy New Year! I wished in the new year by singing “Auld Lang Syne” as “blah, blah, blah, blah” after downing shots of champagne. What a night! It started when I got on the bus. It was funny, whilst sitting on the bus, I was pondering over how many of my nights have begun with sitting on a bus, completely unawares as to where the night will take me. I can definitely see the accuracy of the phrase “journey of life”.

I got to the train station and saw Mark, we then went up to meet Tom and Liz who were sitting in Liz’s car. As I was walking up I became aware of a discordant beeping sound - it was the sound of two buses beeping their horns in harmony. Unfortunately, Liz decided to park her car behind a load of buses, the drivers understandably being quite irate at this point were serenading Liz and Tom. Mark and I had to point this out to them, as the music in Liz’s car was somewhat too loud for them to hear the buses. Oops.

The loud music continued inside the car, parked a safe distance away from malignant buses whilst we waited for Kirsty. Eventually Kirsty turned up, equipped with hair straighteners, face cream and a change of shoes. We set about our merry way, listening to a drum and bass band called pendulum, to which everyone was raving and Queen - Bohemian Rhapsody - to which everyone was head banging. Apparently, the head banging comes from the film Wayne’s World, but I’ve never seen it. Nonetheless, Tom head banging, or should I say flailing like an inexperienced swimmer who has realised the current is too strong, was extremely hilarious. The car journey passed in a similar fashion.

Arriving at Salt Lane car park, we were met by Tailbee and Ross - had a brief discussion as to where we were to sleep - Liz’s car being a possibility, but we eventually came to the conclusion of Ross’ house. Tailbee then drove me, Tom, Mark and Kirsty back to his house - as Kirsty and Mark were staying there, so they - especially Kirsty - had to drop off their stuff. I forgot to mention, Tom had been drinking in the car - as the only person who likes red wine, foul stuff that it is, he had almost a whole bottle to himself. So he provided us with some vague form of amusement whist we gaped and gasped our way around Tailbee’s massive house. It had a pool. His bedroom was an attic, and absolutely massive. It had a drum kit in it and still room for double the space of my room. He has money, he has an en suit. Tom span on a chair for a while.

Taxi back to Salisbury town centre where we met up with Ross, Roo and Liz. We walked to the club where we were supposed to be spending the evening, Tom - upon passing a rather dismal Christmas tree - remarked how fascinating he found it with the quote of the evening: “I well like blue lights”. That’s my boy. We got to the club and were met outside by Kate, who was “on the door” - I.e. on roller-skates wearing a white top with a safety-pinned on tee-shirt transfer mock up with “I heart DB” written on it. DB standing for Dirty Boots, the name of the ‘club’. I place club in inverted comma’s a really, it was a barn, with a stage and a bar, and as dirty as one, with quite expensive drinks, served in plastic cups. Classy.

The evening took off. Tom was hammered. I obviously was playing catch up - this is ‘drink as much as you can in the shortest amount of time possible - and drinks were bought for me by a lot of people, them being loaded and myself only having twenty quid. Started the night with a vodka and coke, I ended it with amnesia. I also worked out that I bought this amnesia for thirteen pounds. I would say “sweet” but I was sick, and cold for three hours and am missing a large portion of my memory as regarding an assault and a chat with the police.

However, I am looking for a linear narrative, so no cataphoric references yet. What I recall of the night was talking to various people, taking photographs of ourselves in which I look grotesque, and drinking. I more vividly recall instances such as Tom being exceedingly drunk lolling against a wall exclaiming that things were "amazing" and that I was "very sexy. Very, very schexy". I danced with Liz and Roo, I think though that was after midnight. Tom was being sick in the toilets at the stroke of midnight, hence the blah, blah-ing - my mouth would have been otherwise engaged if his was not expelling, once again, his stomach acid. The toilets however were port-a-loo’s, and I peed in the ‘gents’. The night was made supremely interesting by a number of factors, one being the large amount of alcohol I consumed. The other was, as Mark termed them, “Tailbo” - Kirsty’s blossoming relationship with Tailbee. I say blossoming, but blossoming is a slow process, this relationship was miracle-grow-ed into a happening with the use of Kirsty’s tongue. They were flirting all night and kissed at midnight, today, they were holding hands.

So, on the stoke of twelve, I sang badly, had some shots of champagne, and here is where the nasty part sets in. I only have vague memories of the latter part of the evening. Sitting on a wall, in the dark, being sick - and the intense feeling of cold I suffered from. I remember walking, my teeth chattering, the slight distortion of everyone’s faces and eating chips in the kebab shop. I think I remember hearing “face plant” vis-à-vis the assault incident. I believe it means to punch someone in the face, but the nib and gist of the assault was Ross being punched for no reason in the back of the head and Kimball and Roo going after the guy, having to be held back, and Kimball being pushed to the floor.

The rest of the night - which apparently took us three hours - where did that period of my life disappear to? - passed in blur that resulted in me waking up in my coat with my socks on - I was told Tom put them on for me because I was cold, with one glove. Lame. However, because I was sick - and sick a lot - my hangover was not too tragic, and we woke up in a bed so what more can you ask for?

The morning of January 1^st was spent lolling around Ross’s house hung over and laughing at our inability to say anything we meant. Examples being Ross just mumbling at Tom and I in the morning, it was although he were saying something perfectly amiable in gibberish, and myself replacing the word “comfortable” with “soft”. I really hate it when my computer crashes and I loose what I was saying. Basically, we went for lunch in a pub and then spent three hours in the car park of the hospital making a ‘tent’ out of our cars with sleeping bags. This was a very silly thing for us to do as the point, if one can say such a thing as a point existed in our misadventures, was that having the windows open to talk between two cars meant we were cold. So we tried to make ourselves warm. We succeeded in shutting the windows, having a sleeping bag between us and talking on the phone. We also drove backwards and forwards for a time, as it was quite funny to see these two cars driving with a sleeping bag in-between them. I do love to be young.

We then drove home. I would elaborate more, but my computer crashing caused me to loose a load of what I had written - a rather frustrating thing, and I am not in the mood to recount it.