The One Where I Dust Off Some Scary Accessories And My Parents Fail Rather A Lot
Several months ago I may or may not have blogged about an ill-fated expedition to Newtown (read: Goth central), where logic dictates the secondhand shops have much cooler shit than they would in e.g. Maroubra (a.k.a. The Hole I Live In). The plan was not a rip-roaring success given that it was Sunday and most of the secondhand shops were named after various saints and thus closed, but a chance encounter with a windblown leaflet led us (after much bitching, moaning and walking in circles) to the Goth Garage Sale Of Doooooooom, manned by a large bloke in leather who looked at us like the teeny posers we totally are. There I bought, an awesome black miniskirt, but that is not the focus of this trip down memory lane. No, that honour goes to my Impulse Purchase Of The Century: The Ubergoth Tie. Not only was it a tie attached to a dog collar but it was made of a) red PVC, b) fishnet and decorated with c) many safety pins. It was absolutely ridiculous.
On Saturday night, I finally had a chance to bring it forth in all its glory. For lo, and also behold: Alex B had declared her party theme to be Things That Used To Be Cool. Now, opinion is divided on whether Goth/Emo/Punk/Whatever is still cool or was never cool, but I figured it was close enough to do the trick. Besides, I've been waiting forever for the chance to wear that black skirt with my new red and black striped thigh high socks. That could not fail to be awesome.
So this week I found out that I make a scarily plausible scene kid. I also got hit on by an entertaining drunk, who remained entertaining to all concerned throughout the stumbling, the telling his mate (Luke, whom I bonded with over Alex's guitar) that "you're awesome man... no really, if I were a chick, I would TOTALLY fuck you" and the total failure to coordinate a guitar pick, right up to the point where pretty much everybody started getting worried and trying to convince him to put down the beer and drink some water. I really didn't envy Luke the job of getting him home at all.
The best thing about this party was the fact that Alex recently moved to my neighborhood, so I could walk home in about five minutes. You'd think this would reassure my parents, but I guess it's their job to worry. It is not, however, their job to forget the surname of the person whose house I'm going to, decide that of course they must be in my grade, look through my yearbook until they find someone with the same first name, and call her up, twice, when I wasn't answering my mobile because it was in another room. But oh, the farce is not over yet! The other Alex, thinking I must have used her as a cover to sneak out some place, assured my mother that I had "just left with some people." This resulted in my parents calling two other people from my school, who naturally had no clue what was going on and all left confuzzled messages on my Facebook wall the next morning.
I, meanwhile, was experiencing the novelty of drinking legally and convincing Stan that I didn't really feel the need to pick up any "hot uni guys" while furtively tugging my skirt down to cover a bit more of my arse. Nevertheless, a good time was had by all and my parents were placated when I came home all in one piece. I meant to blog all this earlier, but something's eaten up our download limit and my dad, in retaliation, has disconnected the net from my computer, so I can only use it on his when everyone else is out of the house.
Now that that's done, I should get back to studying. Or, well, start studying. Because there's nothing scarier than the prospect of sorting through the piles of paper currently decorating my bedroom, and I say this with all the certainty of a person currently typing at a computer which is hiding a spider from my view. Cheers!
On Saturday night, I finally had a chance to bring it forth in all its glory. For lo, and also behold: Alex B had declared her party theme to be Things That Used To Be Cool. Now, opinion is divided on whether Goth/Emo/Punk/Whatever is still cool or was never cool, but I figured it was close enough to do the trick. Besides, I've been waiting forever for the chance to wear that black skirt with my new red and black striped thigh high socks. That could not fail to be awesome.
So this week I found out that I make a scarily plausible scene kid. I also got hit on by an entertaining drunk, who remained entertaining to all concerned throughout the stumbling, the telling his mate (Luke, whom I bonded with over Alex's guitar) that "you're awesome man... no really, if I were a chick, I would TOTALLY fuck you" and the total failure to coordinate a guitar pick, right up to the point where pretty much everybody started getting worried and trying to convince him to put down the beer and drink some water. I really didn't envy Luke the job of getting him home at all.
The best thing about this party was the fact that Alex recently moved to my neighborhood, so I could walk home in about five minutes. You'd think this would reassure my parents, but I guess it's their job to worry. It is not, however, their job to forget the surname of the person whose house I'm going to, decide that of course they must be in my grade, look through my yearbook until they find someone with the same first name, and call her up, twice, when I wasn't answering my mobile because it was in another room. But oh, the farce is not over yet! The other Alex, thinking I must have used her as a cover to sneak out some place, assured my mother that I had "just left with some people." This resulted in my parents calling two other people from my school, who naturally had no clue what was going on and all left confuzzled messages on my Facebook wall the next morning.
I, meanwhile, was experiencing the novelty of drinking legally and convincing Stan that I didn't really feel the need to pick up any "hot uni guys" while furtively tugging my skirt down to cover a bit more of my arse. Nevertheless, a good time was had by all and my parents were placated when I came home all in one piece. I meant to blog all this earlier, but something's eaten up our download limit and my dad, in retaliation, has disconnected the net from my computer, so I can only use it on his when everyone else is out of the house.
Now that that's done, I should get back to studying. Or, well, start studying. Because there's nothing scarier than the prospect of sorting through the piles of paper currently decorating my bedroom, and I say this with all the certainty of a person currently typing at a computer which is hiding a spider from my view. Cheers!