This is probably about to be the longest post in the world…Settle down, have a cup of tea, or alternatively ignore it and go to the pub.

This first little section was written on Saturday afternoon:

I am actually knackered beyond belief. Tired, exhausted, this time I am actually cream fucking crackered. This is an odd confession to make, but I don’t really want to admit to my brother and his girlfriend that I have had just about no sleep, that I didn’t go to bed last night. This means my eyelids are closing involuntarily, my vision swims, my head nods and my reactions are not what they should be. Weirdly enough, the tiredness caused swimming and blurry vision reminds me very much of work last summer, and the hard work I had to do to stay awake, or at least appear to, in front of the computer; student’s names would blur, move and pulsate on the screen, and I had to concentrate entirely on preventing myself sleeping. And then I got very good at sleeping whilst sitting upright. This same state of affairs is reproduced during England’s first World Cup game. Eventually, well at half time, I make my excuses and go for a shower, and I have treated myself to a couple of little five minute snoozes too, but nothing like the unhurried, relaxed, total giving in to sleep I would savour at this moment. My brother’s new house is a perfect little house – the room I’m in has a large white sash window that looks over a Cambridge cricket pitch. The streets are unbelievably quiet, unbelievably green and a stark contrast to the hot and gritty Mile End Road. Luckily, smoked salmon bagels, as bought at 6am from Brick Lane, are appreciated here too, and they’re not even as sweaty as you might imagine.

So last night, eh? Last night and THE last night. I wish I could remember more of its’ events and ramblings, mainly because their main perpetrator wasn’t me. Sarah and Alex were bladdered. Me? Not so much. Well, I’ll describe what I can remember, and hopefully working through the night, piece by piece, will reveal all. I bet you’re all there on the edges of your seats aren’t you? Well, to add to the sense of exhaustion me and Sarah spent the day walking, shopping, shopping walking – 7 hours in central and no actual break. We arrived home clutching lemonade, on the verge of death, nearly prostrate in our desire to be home. We drank tea. Sarah helped me pack my kitchen. I watched while she did hers. It was 21.30 and somehow we had not yet consumed a drink. After a little chiding from Alex, we headed off to Drapers to wave off anyone with whom we could claim a connection.

From this point on, it’s Monday, so events have probably been lost in the mists of time and my lack of memory. In fact I’m going to change tack and list some of the events of the evening:

We couldn’t get into Drapers, so we stayed in 60, chatted with Pat, ate Jen’s food (how unusual, eh Jennifer?) and Sarah discovered wine was palatable with lemonade…Oh dear.

She also correctly anticipated that through the evening the proportion of wine would increase and the lemonade less so.

Sarah drunkenly showered, changed, straightened hair, and applied make-up (see previous post) in preparation for a party in Pooley that never appeared – Pat said ‘twas rubbish.

We had a long girlie chat and decided that everyone’s fucked up, and everyone’s wrong about each other.

Sarah was paranoid that I was not drunk enough and was disconcerted by my subdued-ity. Alex was paranoid that the presence of other people – namely Seb – was detrimental to friendship, girlie bonding and the last night in Varey.

There was a cigarette rolling competition between Spalex and Sarah – Alex’s effort looked like the rizla wanted to be as close to the tobacco as Jen wants to be to Aran.

Items thrown off the balcony – a cabbage, a shisha, a toaster, random food items from the stoner flat (including cereal and sugar), Aran’s coat...

Scary moments – Being on a silent balcony, and there being a mahoosive scream and knock from the flat next door. It was the lovely G, to whom we said goodbye.

Talking to G on said balcony, and the stoners setting a fire extinguisher off, up towards us from their balcony. A blast of Co₂ in the face is a shock and a half.

People who came and went:

Patrick – chatted to, went to E1, returned under the influence, staggered around and said he was going to bed. Hmm…

Alexis – Wearing LBD, went to E1, returned bladdered off her tits (if that’s not too weird a phrase), told us Shila was getting ‘some nookie tonight’, lay with face on the toilet seat, went to bed vowing to return. Hmm…

Shila - Burst through the door with shrieks and hilarity, we asked who the nookie guy was. She promptly disappeared.

Holly – as in Alex’s flatmate. Getting friendly with…

Ted/Ed – his name remained unclear.or at least unclarifed. Went off with Holly and friends with…

Seb – Alex texted him all evening, invited him over from E1. Unspoken will they/won’t they between him and Alex all evening and night. Features more in ‘The reasons why we didn’t go bed’ section.

Sarah’s Ex- Yes, Neil was rung at 3am. Yes, he was worried Sarah was in mighty big trouble. Yes, Sarah had a lot of explaining to do. Mostly – ‘Sorry, I was wasted.’

The Stoners- threw stuff off balcony, blasted fire extinguisher and caused general mischief.

The reasons why we didn’t go to bed –

We wanted to watch the sunrise, and we couldn’t decide whether or when it counted as risen. Is it when the sky is pink, when it’s blue, or when we can actually see the sun?

We (well I decided) I/we wanted to get bagels in the morning. This meant we left the flat at about 4am. We ran after a bus. We caught it. We got to Brick Lane. We couldn’t find a cash point. This small issue developed into a large problem. First we walked back the way we had come, discovering Police men, the Bank of Islam doesn’t like Nationwide or Natwest cards, that Sarah will pee anywhere and that there were no cash points within sight. We wandered down Brick Lane, me remembering Spitalfields is close, and trendy London types need cash points in order to buy expensive clothes and square pies. They apparently need too much, because it wasn’t working. So we asked a random, who told us to walk towards to Aldgate. This is the point at which death began to set in.

To be continued...