"I saw a liquid control, that gave life to us all..."

The following blog is a rant; my rules remain the same, no persons were directly named and apart from the person I call an ass, no grudges are held. This is just the last three parties from my point of view.

No more drinking. Ever.
Well not ever. I come from a long line of self-proclaimed alcoholics so cutting it out completely is close to impossible. But no more getting drunk. Especially at parties.

Honestly the mood I am in, no more parties. I feel like bowing out from all social occasions and taking the final step in becoming a complete social recluse. But I don't think that will make a good impression when I start college, and I don't make that good a first impression the best of times.

In the last month I have attended three drunken parties. The first was...I don't want to say hellish because that's insulting to the person throwing it, and they personally weren't the the problem. The problem was; one of my friends went home early and the other got very drunk. Now, for me to be the most sober out of my friends says two things, a. I wasn't drinking my usual amount and b. everyone else was drinking more. So me with people I had never met before, trying to look after my friend would couldn't walk straight. But that I could cope with, I could even cope with the running joke of my friends being my sexuality after being asked out by a girl, I could even slightly cope with the overwhelming disbelief from friends that it was possible for me to be asked out by anyone. What I couldn't cope with was some random ass making me feel worse by declaring me to be, a "fat, ugly version of this emo girl" he used to know...needless to say mixed with the bottle of wine I had, I wanted to curl up and die under a rock...I went home early.

Party number two.
Again, I didn't drink lots and again my friends did. But this time it resulted in angry drunks, so much so that I could speak without getting my head torn off. At least it was the same with everyone though, I don't think I've ever seen so much shouting with my friends. The next day I watched as we all pulled our sorry asses out of bed and left awkwardly trying to pretend the whole mess didn't happen.

And the third.
The third party in itself wasn't awful. It fact it was rather enjoyable. It was the build up to it that was unpleasant. Eg. the awkward bit at the beginning when not everyone had arrived and you sit and talk.
Now, I can stand being laughed by good friends, but people interrupting me while I am having a conversation with my friends to take the piss out of what I am saying in order to provide entertainment - that's not cool. Shall I give and example; I told them I was leaving early to go to another group of friends place and I was interrupted to be told that I was "ditching" my best friends and it was only cause I was in love with the others that I was leaving. Example two, was asked my opinion on SAAS money, when I answered the music was loud so I had to repeat myself, giving the person a chance to call me attention seeking...cause I said the same thing twice. And third, while in the middle of a general conversation all I did was say, "No that can't be right because I thought that...", I didn't correct them, I wasn't rude or anything like that, I got in return, "Oh of course Erin will know cause she thinks she knows everything about everything."
But of course as was mended when the bar opened and my ID was required...

And relax. So there you go, my last three parties.
I rather like blogging, I don't even care if no one reads it...its not good to keep shit bottled up...
speaking of bottles...where's the wine...I need it now...

Oh yeah, title song Map of Your Head - Muse.
Its about the hangover and aftermath of a drinking spree and how the people around are making him things worse...I thought it was appropriate

How did I get here? How the hell?

Title lyrics from
Halloween - Adam Rapp

So it is a well known thing, that I don't blog. But at 10.43 while I am alone, overly tipsy in my room, I need to get something off my chest.

I PASSED MY EXAMS!

And I should be happy, yes? No. Earlier this year, I made a promise that no matter what my results, I would stay at home this year and go to college, mainly so I can help out while my mother takes a year off work - for important reasons I don't want to get into - and I agreed. Partly cause I am an awesome daughter but mainly cause I thought with the shit year that 2010 was becoming, I would fail my exams and have no choice.

Cut to the 5th July, and I pass everything. I get everything that I need to and that was great, I knew I wasn't going away this year and I didn't mind. Skip forward a day, I have spend almost all day listening to people of my age telling me how they are going away and getting what they wanted, even though that didn't get as well as they hoped are still getting opportunities to go to university. And then at 15.46 exactly I get an e-mail from UCAS telling me the decision from Stirling has been made...a big fat awful YES. And suddenly I mind and I feel stupid. That sounds ridiculous, but I feel like because I won't get to university until next year; I am more stupid that the rest of them. I actually find myself reasoning to people why I am going to college next year, like they will think less of me...

So I know a grand total of 0 people read my blog, and I probably won't even look at it again for another year. Oh and if anyone does read this, I am tipsy cause I am just home from my cousins engagement party where my family kept feeding me WDK (like 7 bottles) not because I am that pathetic that I am alone in my room drinking.

See I am even giving reason for that...since when did I care what people thought? When did that happen?

"As a matter of fact, honey, I know this act..."

I don't know why I am writing this now, after finishing 6th year, its probably due to the fact exam results are due and everyone is panicking. Yet I can officially say I don't give a shit. And this is the story of why not.

Let your minds wander back to my 5th year...
4th year was a doodle, 6 credits, 1 Int 2 and a 3 in Maths. (but I suck at maths, so care not)
So I wasn't expecting the shit that came flying at me in 5th year, but granted I worked hard in my classes, until one teacher decided to destroy every inch of self respect I had. Most of you know who this teacher is, most of you in that class know what I am talking about, she made it obvious to everyone that her mission was to make me suffer...in fact she even used to talk about me to the class while I was out it, they couldn't keep their mouth shut and told me.

And I reacted like I normally do, I made it my mission to do the opposite of everything she told me to do, and my work, well lets just say it suffered. Badly.
I regret this because when result day came, lets just say to all you fifth years preying for 5 A's... what I got would make you suicidal.
(only plus being I passed English and History really well. And got an A in maths...but that was Int 2 so is irrelevant)

AND 6th year. Well the school fucked up my classes, so year word of warning too, anyone taking advanced higher's, it too many people fail the class will be cancelled. Two of mine were. Anyway, the school fucked up. So I left...and then the college fucked up...so I came back to taking 4 classes I generally didn't give a shit about. One of them I had a panic attack in during the prelim, ah fun times. By this time, my general feeling was I CAN'T BE ARSED ANYMORE.

And the final straw, I was under pressure for numerous, yet unnamed sources (and my parents) to stay at home this year, for numerous reasons. So I decided to listen and do my first year of Uni at college (which I got a unconditional for, which to me is stupid. To do my first year of Uni somewhere else, I need less than I do for what I need to do it at the actual Uni.).
But the final final straw is this...my parents decided I don't need to stay at home anymore. After making me decide to stay.
So the moral of the story is this, my dear 5th and 4th years. DON'T TAKE ART.

So for brighter topics. Hello blogger thingy. Long time no see. Since my last post which I accidentally deleted, I left school, turned 18, threw a party and started job seekers, yes my friend job seekers. For two months, still I start college. I am now David Cameron's number one enemy, and yes I am stealing you taxes. Well not really, my parents steal half and call it "rent" and they pay taxes so in the long run...

Oh and speaking of rent, an Olga Katarzyna Gromala (please say I spelt that right) mentioned Rent in her last blog, which has re-sparked my obsession with the wonderful musical which my friends mocked me for the first time around. Haha, that's right I remembered I was going to make you watch it, and I shall...you know who I'm talking too...Its a goddamn rock opera people, hardly Phantom of the Opera.

What else...well I am going to see 30 Second to Mars in December despite the fact I grew out of them the same time as I grew out of MCR, but meh. And I am currently looking for my own flat or shared house in Dunfermline, preferably my own flat, better for parties and I don't get on well with...well people in general. And I am lined up for a job at Sky which means if I find a flat, I get free Sky+, broadband and phone, so very few bills for me. It also means money, £300 a fortnight...and the average flat rent is £300 a month there, and with my student loans on top...yes just say I CAN afford it.
However if anyone reading this feel a sudden urge to move to Dunfermline, I am willing to share with people I can stand...in fact it would be easier. SO people fuck Uni and move in with me.

That is all.

Erin Out.