Party

Eeee, party. I went out to Cowley tonight to the Pansexual House O'Love for sebastienne's birthday party. Well, that was the plan. I went to Sainsbury's to get some chocolate and Pringles - no alcohol, because I really didn't want to drink at all tonight - and came out in time to meet jacinthsong all in white, with tiara and fake fur. (It took me far too long to realise she was dressed as the White Witch from the Chronicles of Narnia.) "Hi," I said.

"Hi," she said. "Don't turn ninety degrees to your left."

I turned ninety degrees to my left. To be met by withiel, wearing a leather jacket, a pair of translucent white tights, and, um... not a lot else. "Ah," I said. And then I tried not to laugh, because it would be mean. On the way up Cornmarket, I met Caroline (Trinity PPEist I went to school with), and made some small talk about the holiday. In the end she asked, as you do, where I was going.

"To a fancy dress party," I said, motioning towards Laura and Alex (who was muttering about frostbite in his extremeties) and drifted serenely off into the night. We went all the way down Cornmarket, and down the length of the High Street, and across Magdalen Bridge into Cowley, and scandalised many old ladies, and a pair of surprised looking Japanese tourists who may possible have wandered off with the impression that it is a quaint old Oxford tradition for male undergraduates to wander around in tights on the first Friday of Hilary.

Emma let Laura and Alex in without a murmur, for their costumes were truly wonderful, but mine was not. I gave up on a proper costume and just wore a pair of black angel wings over my usual clothes. However, Emma has pteraphilia listed as an interest. I passed muster.

And then there was alcohol. Not for me, at least not really - I had a splash of Pimms in lemonade for the hell of it, and then desisted - but I watched in amusement as vodka was downed in liberal quantities. There were lots of people squished into a fairly small flat, and I was feeling slightly lemonish to begin with, but after a bit I got to enjoying myself properly. It was fun, dammit. Lots of people to talk to about really important things, like feminism in George Elliot novels (I bow before English students; I am a Phillistine) and why the Star Wars prequels are inferior and the all-encompassing wonder that is shoebox_project. It was, in short, a proper party. At one end there were quasi-orgies and associated debauchery (there was spanking and whipped cream, and Emma was having a good birthday) while the other end of the room were having a loud and enthusiastic discussion about the perennial topic, or at least at the sort of parties I go to, about Caecillius est in horto and the rest of Cambridge Latin.

chains_of_irony and I were in a somewhat awkward position, caught in the crossfire from the spanking, so we bonded over Doctor Who and pegasus_b. Sadly, I'd lost Laura and Alex by that point. The great thing about house parties is a liberal hand with the vodka; in any case, Alex was quickly drunk (though still able to say "Peter Piper had a pick of pickled peppers") and Laura kissed me thoroughly and disappeared into the kitchen. Later on, I found them tucked up rather adorably together beneath lots of blankets, fast asleep.

And I made a new friend. I was chatting away to Katy, who is in my college, about fandom and yuletide and other such geeky stuff, and then she told me: she's foreverdirt. There was SQUEE. "I know who you are!" I yelled, and made several incoherent noises along the lines of "omg!111!". We have many, many friends in common and, eee, the coincidence. I think I sat there and geeked for what seemed like hours.

And it probably was, for I finally realised I have to get up tomorrow - in six hours, urgh - and should probably head home. I very almost but not quite stepped on Laura, and despite some swearing and grabbing at furniture, I didn't quite cause disaster. I grabbed my coat, spent five minutes wondering why it wouldn't go on when it fitted me this morning, at which point someone pointed out I was wearing wings, and with some further incompetence, I drifted back across Magdalen Bridge and back towards college.

I dropped in on Claire before I came up, and without meaning to we had something of a gossip and bitch about everyone else in college (I maintain that Balliol PPEists, myself included, are not nice people) and now I really, really should go to bed.

Hee. Noughth week is fun. Such a pity it's nearly over.

Top five lists of things

Top five lists, as requested:

( top five fics I wish people would write )

( top five names )

( top five pairings/ships )

( top five methods of opening doors )

( top five insane uses for chilli sauce )

( top five songs )

( top five sexiest things about Ron Weasley )

( top five places to visit )

I will do more, if anyone wants. Also, as I am bored beyond belief, really, really procrastinating beyond belief, and Claire is here in my room to escape from the bop and being intimidatingly studious, I will take requests (fandom, plus pairing or gen prompt or both) for drabbles and ficlets. I'm aware I never do all my requests, but I do usually do a good proportion of them and I do like doing requests.

And oh, yes, I should do philosophy.