An unexpected party

The view from our kitchen window in halls. Annoying not because it
makes a loud noise, or because it's an eyesore, but because when
they finish the view will be worse- a metre or so onto a building.
At least at the moment the view has distance. I'm hoping they won't
be done before the summer- but I pity the poor people who come next.

I checked my email on Wednesday evening to find an invitation to the joint birthday party of CMCC and EMCC, who turn out to have consecutive birthdays, which was to be the very next day (the email was actually sent on Monday). I replied that I was sorry I couldn't make it as I was already back home. But when I was trying to get to sleep that night, I suddenly realised how much I wanted to go, and decided that it was worth going down to London specially (and the associated train fare).

Then the matter of presents occurred to me and I thought I wouldn't be able to go because I couldn't think of anything to get them (I always struggle buying presents for men). But after some racking of the brains, I recalled the idea I had been going to put in the Ethical Christmas leaflet I had been going to do for the People and Planet end of term mulled wine and mince pies stall, when we had been going to have one (it didn't happen in the end): amongst other ethical present ideas, I had included grow-your-own-herbs (which is ethical because it saves on fuel transporting the ready grown versions). What with them both being Green Party bods, and everyone liking basil, I thought that, if it wasn't necessarily just what they always wanted, it was at least not a what-were-you-thinking? present.

I got up early the next day (without even adjusting my alarm clock to reflect my change of plans!) to check with Mum that it was ok my going to the party- it would mean my missing her brass band playing carols and Christmas music outside a supermarket that evening. But she was happy for me to go, and said that actually there wouldn't be many of them that evening, so they would probably just play carols- the following evening would be better. Actually, I lay awake for a bit before getting up and asking her trying to decide whether the party really was worth getting up and all the hassle of getting the present and going into London. It was quite a close thing at several points but in the end I did it.

Later that morning I went into Bourton, a nearby very very small town and summer tourist trap, to buy plant pots and seeds from the garden centre/ pet food suppliers/ agricultural store. Sadly they didn't have basil; they had coriander, which I had also been going to do, but apart from that it was just boring things like parsley. So I just got the coriander, and had a look once back home to see if it was my basil or my coriander seeds that I left behind when I went to university. It was the coriander, of course. But I found my oregano and decided that would do. I scooped compost into the flower pots and planted a pot each of oregano and coriander for each of them, and while I was at it I also planted some peas which I brought back from London but never actually used, and which were now sprouting. I packed the pots in two empty cardboard boxes of bottles of beer, and put those in two carrier bags (Co-op, for that extra ethical touch).

In London, I'd planned to go to a cafe while killing time before the party started, and write some letters that needed doing, and the completion of which I had made a condition of allowing myself to come, and then change in the loos. But actually there wasn't that much time, and the cafe I'd been going to go to turned out not to have any loos, so instead I went to LSE (since the cafe was right by there) and changed in that same handy loo I used before the President of People and Planet's party. In the process, I realised that I had forgotten to bring any light coloured tights- the ones I was wearing were green and really didn't go. So I popped into Tesco's on my way to the party, though I realised I wouldn't have a chance to change them untill after I arrived.

I walked over Waterloo Bridge in an unexplainable state of elation- maybe it was something to do with how amazing all the lights looked, in either direction?- and got to Waterloo station about five minutes before the start time for the party. I decided to go inside and sit down to write some brief instructions for looking after the herbs, as I wasn't sure how much experience either of them had of growing things, and I also didn't want to get there right from the very beginning in case they hadn't yet turned up themselves.

I reached Cubana's, where the party was to be*, at about 5.40. I went in and had a good look round, but couldn't find them anywhere, so asked one of the waiters if there was a booking in either of their names- I wasn't sure they had booked but thought it worth asking. There wasn't, so I hung around waiting, in the course of which I heard a few parties get turned away, and got asked if I had a booking a couple of times by waiters. I decided I was in the way so went to wait outside the door- there was only one so there was no danger of missing them. However as I waited I did begin to be concerned that the venue might have changed, and I was just trying to decide which email-checking strategy would be best in terms of time and money: walking to LSE, taking a bus to LSE, or finding a local internet cafe, when I saw the two of them approaching with another guy that I'd vaguely seen around but never really met (who turned out to be one of CMCC's housemates).

I warned them we might be turned away, but said it was worth trying anyway- but indeed we were. This of course was quite a problem as everyone was going to come there. They had to text many many people from another bar where we went instead- and they didn't actually have the phone number of everyone who was invited.

When they seemed to be through texting people, I handed over the presents (and a Christmas card for EMCC, who wasn't at the President of People and Planet's party). They seemed to go down well- either that or they're both good actors, but anyway, I was satisfied with the response. In fact only one other person brought anything, so maybe it wasn't the kind of birthday party where you do bring presents- actually no-one apart from me brought anything to the President of People and Planet's either- maybe it's just not the done thing in this social group- but it's definitely better to be on the safe side: I would have hated to be the only person not to bring anything.

The presents and everybody's coats and bags made quite a large pile in front of the bar, which I was quite concerned about, and businessmen were having to make their way through with difficulty. One of them, not your stereotypical businessman, made some comment to me about the size of the pile, something about presents, and though I was rather wary- men striking up conversations with women in bars tend to be after something rather specific, we actually had a rather interesting conversation, mostly about careers in statistics since he asked me what I did, and when I explained I was a student, what I wanted to do. I was worried throughout that I wouldn't get away without giving my number (which I didn't really want to do- though he seemed nice enough, I'm not convinced that meeting people in bars rather than being introduced to them by mutual friends is really safe (many serial killers have seemed like perfectly nice people, I'm sure, and whilst the percentage of the population who are serial killers is small enough that the risk is tiny, and while a serial killer can equally well be a friend of a friend, somehow it just seems unwise). This despite the fact that a distant cousin met her husband in a karaoke bar), but in fact he didn't ask for it and after a while said he needed to be getting back to his friends. Maybe he decided after talking to me a bit that he didn't like me after all; maybe my being a student put him off; maybe he was never interested in anything more than a short conversation, but anyway I found it quite refreshing. I'd be a lot more willing to talk to new people if I thought they weren't going to expect anything at the end of it.

People arrived gradually, and eventually the crowd in the bar thinned out enough for us to get a table to sit round (it was mostly people having a drink after work), but it was kind of a serial party in a way- though maybe thirty or even forty people came, there were never more than 15 there at a time as most people didn't stay for more than an hour or two. Some people, like the President of People and Planet, I knew; others, like a Beaver reporter who'd been in the Sutherland protest, the Students' Union Treasurer, and the Students' Union Education and Welfare Officer, I knew by name, but had talked to a couple of times at most.

After we got the table, a few of us ordered some food. I hadn't eaten before I'd come because I knew Cubana's did food, and as it was starting at 5.30, I took that to mean that we'd have something, if only bar snacks. I felt a bit greedy though with only one or two others eating. The sun dried tomato and olive burger that I had was amazing though and possibly the best bit of the party- which I'd been concluding had perhaps not been quite worth the trip after all. It was quite good, just not brilliant. There were quite long periods of time when everyone around me appeared to be engaged in conversations that were just too far away from me for me to be able to hear and join in.

After that bar, at 11 or so, we went to a place in Soho that did cocktails that were nice but expensive. As I was queueing at the bar, a bloke next to me said 'You all right, then?' Though the tone of voice suggested it was someone who knew me, I didn't recognise the voice itself and was sure I didn't know them. Since the voice also sounded quite drunk, and since nothing good can come of a conversation that starts that way, I pretended I hadn't heard, and the voice repeated what it had said a few times. Sadly, he didn't take the hint of my continued non-response, but decided instead to compliment me on my ignoring skills, and waved a hand up and down in front of me. After a bit, I found it difficult to keep my mouth straight, not because I was enjoying the situation, but because there is something about flouting conversational rules or social conventions that just brings on a giggle reflex- like when you deliberately turn your back on someone when talking to them. I suppose it's an evolutionary or at least beneficial trait- going against the rules can look like (and often is) a snub, and giggling takes the edge of that thus possibly averting the wrath of an armed and dangerous snubbed person. But I digress. The bloke said 'You're smirking. I can see you in the mirror', I carried on ignoring him, and eventually got served and walked away without having so much as looked at him (though kicking myself inside for having spoiled it rather with the smirking).

We stayed in the bar till about 1, by which point there were only six or so of us left, then made our way towards Trafalgar Square (via a fried chicken place for some of them) where we parted. Walking from there to the Strand, to catch a bus, another bloke asked me 'All right, darling?', which I was particularly annoyed about. I mean, with the bloke in the bar, at least there was a vague logic to it- bars are a place that some women do go to meet people. It still doesn't justify his persistence when I clearly wasn't interested, and it still doesn't stop me disliking him for opening the conversation (if you can call it that) like that in the first place, but you can see why it would make sense to him that that would be a good thing to do, even though it wasn't. But with the bloke in the street, in order to believe that was the right thing to do he'd have to have somehow got the idea that there was a curfew of non-nymphomaniac women. In any case, even supposing I was looking for a one night stand, how any man could think that a conversation opener like that is going to dazzle me with their suitability as a partner for the evening, I don't know. I mean, couldn't they put a bit more effort into it? I actually think it's worse than such cringeworthy offerings as 'Get your coat, love, you've pulled' Still totally repellent (what with the underlying assumption that their interest in you is just what you've been hoping for), and still completely unoriginal, but at least it has comedy value, when you tell your friends later that someone actually said that, and you can't deny that, while not that interesting, it is at least more interesting than 'All right, darling?' The man in the first bar had the right approach, though. Even though he too was drunk (not obviously, staggering and making no sense drunk, the kind where you're not sure untill the person themself mentions it), he still opened the conversation with a relevant and natural remark, giving the impression, even if it wasn't true, that he wouldn't have said anything if he didn't have that to say, and that he wasn't intending to start a conversation at all costs. If I did go home with men that I met in bars, that'd be the kind of man I met in a bar that I'd go home with.

I made it back to halls eventually, at about 2. Since my halls are 40 (or so) week lets, and we are thus paying over Christmas and Easter, I'm able to spend a night there in the holidays whenever I need to. It also means I didn't have to bring everything home with me at the end of term (though of course on the down side it's more expensive).

Though I haven't thought of him since the end of term, totally out of the blue I had another 'interesting' dream about K that night. It was quite chaste though- a lot of putting my head on his chest, for some reason, a kiss, and a lot of wanting another kiss and being worried that he was going to get bored of me and go away. Of course, the K in my dreams is different from the real K- for one thing, I don't really know what the real K is like, since I haven't had a chance to get to know him properly, but have mostly been trying to get computers to do what they're told in the time I've spent in his company. So though I enjoyed the dream, it doesn't mean that I now want the real K (though I suppose in the hypothetical situation of him asking me out, which is of course not actually likely to happen, I would take that opportunity to get to know him).

I got to Paddington about ten minutes after one train and nearly two hours before the next. Which was annoying, but I did sit down and get those letters done. And took them to the post office and posted them.

On the train I realised that my Young Person's Railcard, with my ticket in it, was no longer in my bag. So very annoyingly I had to buy another ticket, and of course at full fare this time. I'm not quite sure where I lost it, but I hope someone hands it in at a station, because I don't want to have to pay for another- besides losing another as yet unused return portion.

I was going to get all the remaining data for my project today, but actually in the event did no work at all. So that's now tomorrow's plan. I did go and get my brother from the station- he's home for the holidays now.

*It was the same place the People and Planet had their end of term meal