"Dwarves aren't a race!"

[raven]

It's half ten and I'm back on the computer. How, one may ask, did this happen?

Well, my parents are lovely people and said that seeing as they were going to a thing (religious in nature, as it involved a collection for the local mandir) in Kirkby (note, non-natives - Kirkby is pronounced "Kirby") they'd pick me up on the way back so I didn't have to worry about getting a lift. "What time are you coming?" I asked.

"About ten, eleven."

I wasn't too happy about it, but figured it would be all right, as I have to go to work tomorrow anyway and besides, the clocks are going forward to BST tonight, which gives me an hour less sleep. Quite possibly my least favourite night of the year because of that.

My parents left at five. I sat at home and did nothing very much until about six thirty, when I got dressed, got all my stuff together and left. I got the train at ten past seven, got to Jane's at half seven. The party was supposed to start at seven. Well, Michael opened the door to me and Pip. It would appear we were the only guests, with the exception of a guy called Andy who was wearing a Ramones t-shirt and had apparently been there all weekend.

Jane was absent. She went to pick someone up from Lime Street, and the train was stuck at Runcorn for some unexplained reason. So the first half an hour was dull. I threw grapes at Michael. He lectured me on the rise of Marxism. Pip propounded a theory regarding the lost boys in Peter Pan, the general gist of which escapes me. It was not very exciting.

But gradually, people filtered in. Jane's friends from Warwick amused me very much. Jane was explaining my general fear of being hugged, and of Vimto, and various other things, while I attempted to explain without much success why it is not a good idea to trust a drink which is marketed as blue flavour vodka. I tried it and it was absolutely vile. Unfortunately I was the only one who thought so. Anyway, this party was like the New Year's one (the gentle reader may remember that purplerainbow and I looked in for five minutes and ended up staying an hour). Actually, I wanted to take Hannah with me tonight - if only I hadn't been working tomorrow, that would have worked.

There was in fact a girl I met who reminded me an awful lot of Hannah. Her name was Laura, she was dressed all in purple, and she asked me, "So, are you at uni or are you on a gap year?" I hastened to explain I am in fact the resident baby, Jane's friend who was (and still is) two years below, and while I did wonder why she'd asked, it dawned on me that I won't actually look different when I'm nineteen as opposed to seventeen. In case I hadn't made it clear, the party was Jane's nineteenth birthday party.

Laura's forte was telling ridiculous jokes. There was one involving a frog and Mick Jagger, and then Michael told one that I found so hilarious that I must reproduce it here.

"There's a dwarf at the circus (Laura said, "Don't be racist!" and then Rob (cool guy, spiky hair) yelled back, "Dwarves aren't a race!") who's in love with this beautiful blonde. Somehow or other he gets her to go out with him, and they have sex. But before they do, he attaches springs to his hands and feet (Michael did the actions to illustrate it). Afterwards, the blonde says, 'That was the best sex I've ever had. How did you do it?'

And the dwarf says, 'Four-sprung dwarf technique.'"

Well, I thought it was funny. Actually, I wasn't the only one; it was the only joke whose punchline did prompt a burst of laughter. Alcohol may have had something to do with it. I drank some peach Archers Aqua (there were only two bottles of it, but Jane and Laura took pity on me and gave me some) and some Bailey's. I would have drunk more, but circumstances did not allow, as we shall see.

After the jokes, the doorbell rang again and someone else came in. He was Indian, faintly geeky-looking, and I yelled, "You! You're Very Deep without the Y!"

He gave me a Look. "I'm sorry, I have no idea who you are."

Cue raucous laughter. His name is in fact Verdeep, and I met him at New Year's. He barged through the conversation - we were talking by the door - and was hugged by Jane. Jane had already provided the soundbite of the evening when attempting to answer the door. "Michael, it's my party!"

I told Verdeep my name. "Iona. Four letters, three syllables. Not that difficult." Rob was curious. "How can you squeeze so many syllables and vowels into four letters?"

What can I say to that? It's a talent.

One may have gathered that I was enjoying myself. By this point, it was about a quarter past nine. And who should appear but my parents. Can't blame them, I suppose; their function-type-thing was a complete disaster, started way too early etc, so it was all inevitable. But I really didn't want to leave, and had a bit of weird accident with my bottle of Baileys before departing, so I took it with me.

Thus ends anything fun for the rest of the weekend. My mother is being rather annoying. "Are you drunk?" No, I'm happy. There's a difference.

Huh.