Madge - what ARE you wearing?

Let me take through the last week of my life as we take a trip to a lil place I like to call 'Sazzletown'

Monday - Worked. Ate. Showered. Slept.

Tuesday - Got stuck in traffic queue for 2 & 1/2 hours. Late for meeting with uni tutor. Had meeting with uni tutor. Worked. Managed to do the equivalent of breaking Google. Ate. Slept.

Wednesday - Showered. Worked. Ate. Slept.

Thursday - Ate. Worked. Straightened hair. Went to a number of pubs (that number totalling three) with friends I hadn't seen in ages. A gaggle of 'bleeding' students invaded second pub in fancy dress (side note: My fav was The Killer Tomato). Was told by a man with bleached blonde hair to pat his mates arse as it was 'firm'. I thanked him for the tip. Accosted two minutes later by a drunk French man, possibly called Piere. He didn't understand the phrase 'party animal', so I decided the culture gap was too wide. Went on to club where my friends didn't really understand my ironic dancing. Had the following exchange with a Spencer-Moon-a-like:
Spencer: What's your name? I was talking to you earlier.
Me: Sarah. I remember you walked off in a bit of a huff.
Spencer: I wasn't in a huff. I was getting a drink.
Me: Oh (note the witty repartee)
Spencer [holds out his hands. I proceed to give him '10'. Spencer then grabs my hands]: Look 'Sarah' I like you. I like your hair and your clothes
Me: Excellent, well thats in the bag. We've got that sorted. My hair and clothes thank you. You're a bit snazzy yourself
Spencer: Well, I'm not. I'm not indie like you I'm a bit 'wheyy'
Me: Oh.
And yet, despite my killer lines, nothing happened with Mr Moon. Shocking. Went home. Tried to sleep but couldn't as had 'Girls on Film' by Duran Duran in head. Eventually slept.

Friday - Had the busiest, most stressful day working ever (including Record Shop duties over the Christmas period). At the last minute the schedule I'd been coordinating since 10am was cancelled. Got slightly hysterical. Went to mates house. Watched Most Haunted Live. Decided once and for all that Derek Acorah is shit. Drove home with IBYLGOTD by Arctic Monkeys playing really loud and was so busy drive-dancing that I nearly ran over a cat. Slept.

Saturday - Shopped. Ate. Watched The Breakfast Club. Read The Guardian, Heat, and NME. Got a bit tarted up. Went to pub. Decided with Kes on the best bands in the world ever (though the actual bands we decided on elude me now). Went home. Made popcorn. Watched Fight Club. Slept. Dreamt about gay university lecturer that I have a crush on. We were on holiday in Slovakia.

Sunday - Bought some mittens. Ate. Typed up week I'd had in list type fashion on laptop.

And people criticise blogs for being self-indulgent, boring, crappy pap. Ha!

I think I love McFly. Seriously.

Well I haven't posted in a while.. I expect all my hundreds, well, dozens... well, one fan have missed me! (Or not...)

I spent a lost weekend in Birmingham last week. It was awesome. Drank too much, made some drunken revelations that I probably should have kept quiet about. Went to a place called 'Moseley Dance Centre'. It seemed to be an old school hall and had plastic chairs lining the walls with a picnic table at the back selling cheap cans of Red Stripe - a lager that I'm fairly sure its also quite suitable as a drain unblocker. What I enjoyed more than the drain unblocking drink on sale was the eclectic clientele. Well-dressed 60-something year old Jamaican men dancing next to chav-ish types in football shirts stood next to grungers in Led Zeppelin tee's who were chatting up 16-year-olds in Lycra mini skirts. It was great. And once again I pulled off some pretty snazzy ironic dance moves. I also have added 'the running man' to my repertoire.

I then went on an epic Mordor style adventure to IKEA. Yes. IKEA. The nearest one to me is in Croydon which only took an hour to get to, however once in Croydon it took a further hour to reach said IKEA store. Me and road signs don't get on. I'm fairly sure they're controlled by the pigeons (who I have a long running feud with). Still, it was worth it... got a red cord chair (mmm cord) and various other cheap nicknack's. However, the one bit they missed in LOTR is the epic journey BACK home (well Mr Tolkein might have included it, if its somewhere near the back I probably got distracted. I have a very short attention span being part of the 'MTV generation' n all).

What's wrong with a bit of destruction?

It was my birthday! Yay! And in a surprising turn of events it didn't completely suck! Yay!

Let me take a moment to explain what normally happens on my birthdays - I end up completely miserable.

This is normally something to do with boys and boys being rubbish. But THIS birthday was... fun! Ending up in a cheesy club lacking in chavs and posers that played predictable dancefloor indie hits - yay! Seeing a man in a black polo neck and a medallion - yay! Falling in love with a boy in a red jumper with pointy white shoes, but who was too drunk for conversation or anything else for that matter - boo! Doing my Mick Jagger impression and the robot on the squishy dancefloor - yay!

Which gives an overall total of 3 yay's to one boo. That has to be a record.

Oh and a special shout out to the man who said 'bye titty lady!' as I started walking home. I'm not quite sure what he thought this comment was going to do as I had already spurned his advances earlier in the night. Maybe it was observational comedy? Yes, I am a 'lady' and yes I have 'breasts'. Why sir, you could be the next Jerry Seinfeld! To any boys who think that that might work as a desperate pulling attempt at the end of the night... don't. Just... don't. Well it might work - but probably not on anyone that you would want to admit to pulling the morning after.

Today I got the biggest laughs in my creative writing class for my short story - it was about a dead hamster. Sick bastards.