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Dreadful Nonsense

"I've read your blog. it's really funny. you should write a column." - Jon Ronson

This post is dedicated to Moo, who has texted me twice today demanding a new post.

Last night, I stayed round at D's house. We decided this would be a good idea, because we've both been having trouble sleeping, and we thought that at least this way if we were both still trapped awake at 3am, we'd have someone else to talk to. It's this kind of logical reasoning that's got me in trouble before, but I've not learned and by now am determined that I never will.

11pm found us on the phone to D's ex(ish)-boyfriend, with me sitting close to the phone listening in on the conversation - I have been invited to, this is not my not-particularly-subtle way of eavesdropping. We finish the conversation, and retire to the kitchen to inexplicably eat bananas and begin drinking beer.

1am, and we're still in the kitchen. D has discovered that she didn't in fact have the bottle of wine that she had promised me she had, but this doesn't matter, because for the last hour and a half we'd found something else to occupy us. Herbal cigarettes (if you know what I mean - and I think you do) abound, and we find ourselves discovering the secret to a long lasting relationship with menfolk, taking in to account the differences that lie between the genders - I'm not sure if you've heard, but men and women are different. I remember thinking how brilliantly simple and simply brilliant our discovery was, and how we should write it down or text it to someone because we could make our fortune.

3am. We've been drinking herbal tea - actual herbal tea, if you know what I mean. Cammomile and that. We've started talking about things that the other person does that annoys us. We can't think of a solid example. We're such good friends, it's a beautiful moment.

Skip forward to 4am. We're sitting in her front room, trying to blow up a blow up bed with a foot pump that doesn't quite fit over the valve, so that the more air we pump in, the more air is coming back out at us. This does not stop us from continuing to try for about 20 minutes, occasionally collapsing on to the floor in hysterical giggles. This is the funniest thing we've ever done.

4.45am. My eyes are falling out of my head. We're wrapped up in sleeping bags and I can't quite get the energy to go brush my teeth. D is trying to convince me that staying up ALL NIGHT is better than going to sleep at this stage. Even though I have nothing in the world that I need to do the next day, and could feasibly spend it all asleep, common sense for the first time that night prevails and I slip in to a coma. D rustles around for a bit and does likewise.

7.45am. Our alarms go off. All is hell.

This entry was posted on 19 November 2004 at 2:40 pm. 0 comments

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