A Curious Girl: Romantic interludes and full scale whinging

The 60s/70s night last night rocked!!

The people I knew there were:

Becky (organising), Fiona, Chris (she stayed over), Sarah, Lucy, Jessica (x2), Dave (Duck, I think is his nickname), Chloe (who didn't recognise me, but when I took my glasses off she realised I was the girl who played tag with her when she was about six. I was touched.), and Tim Scott.

Hmm, this story really had better go back to Tuesday...

(That was an interesting way to start off. Sounds like something in a thriller or something. Or a romance novel. Can we continue in form?)

... I gritted my teeth as I heard the pips. It was twenty past three, the end of the school day, but I still had chemistry to finish. It was exasperating work, already several test-tubes had bubbled over, and the room was filled with a stench that was something like garlic. I was meant to be running Christian Union tonight. I couldn't get out of it, Mrs. Cook had already told me she couldn't get the video recorder to play 'The Miracle Maker', so we were relying on the notes I had half-deliriously prepared the previous Monday with a splitting headache. I sighed as I finished my last test, and cleared up the now dirty white equipment, and scrubbed the desks. David would, doubtless, not be there.

Ah David, the thought of him filled my mind with serenity. His dark brown eyes... (sorry, I'll stop there. I'm beginning to sound too much like a romance novel)

At last I finished, packed my bag and took my leave of the laboratory. As I wandered out into the sun, I considered that however well or badly it went tonight, it would still be a beautiful day.

I looked to the classroom where the meeting would be held, but could see nothing for the sunlight reflecting on the windows. I at last got to the door, and reluctantly pushed it open, not particularly in the mood.

There were fewer people there than I'd imagined, the usual regulars. In a futile optimism I looked for David, and did not find him, but suddenly a voice from the past greeted me, a tallish young man, brother to he I had so yearned for. It was Tim Scott...

Now wasn't that romantic? Anyway, Tim's on his Easter break from Uni, and came to visit his 'brothers and sisters' in the Christian Union. What a nice guy he is!! Why he could not bring his brother along to the 60s/70s night I have no idea, but, oh well, his loss :-). Regen on Friday was also amazingly cool, and Adam and Christina met for the first time since they were going out. Oh what the heck, another romantic interlude.

...Adam found himself back at St. Justus, and wondered what would come of this evening. The last time he had come to see Blue Planet, Christina had been by his side, the girl he had so cruelly betrayed. He thought about her now - where was she? Could she ever forgive him for the crime he had committed? They had been sending each other e-mails, but over cyberspace things were different. It was harder to be forgiving in real life. And suddenly, there she was, the ravishing Christina and that drop-dead-gorgeous witty and intelligent girl who was her intimate friend. She was smiling, showing pearly white teeth, and he realised that all must have been forgiven. But even if she had forgiven him, he must yet forgive himself.

"My heart is in agony every time I recall what I did to you, O beauteous one," he said.

OK, so he didn't actually. But what the heck, they made up. He's a nice guy, but not really one for controlling his affection. He came out with me to the car at the end, and when I said goodbye, a girl nearby said, "No kiss?"

"She's not my girlfriend."

"What does that matter?"

As he went back in, she said to me, "You wanted one, didn't you?" and I said, "Of course I did."

Take that anyway you want!!

Why do I keep saying 'heck'? Is that a Christina type expression? 'Cause I usually say hell. Not that I mind the change.

Speaking of romance, I have reliquished my crush on David. Or, to put it another way, he's moved to the 'good friends' of my brain, because I haven't got a hope in heck of going out with him. :-)

The other point being, that I'm surrounded by nice yet unavailable guys. Like Jim. He's engaged to Anna. Yay! Isn't that amazing? People I know don't get engaged!! Back to the point. I love most of the boys I know (not all, yet, but I'm working on it). There's no point - what's that expression? - keeping the flag up for someone you don't have much of a chance with. So I'm not so much 'over' David, because you don't get 'over' good things. You get over illnesses, accidents and catastrophes, and David is none of these things. I've just accepted that it's his choice, and if he won't change his mind, then I might as well give up. Who gives a damn when there are so many other nice guys around... :-)

There you are. I love David, but please don't use the word 'fancy' concerning him. I don't.

Now!! The moment you've all been waiting for!!

THE 60s 70s NIGHT!!!

We danced. For a long time. Tim introduced us to his Czech friend (A girl. Not sure what to think... They didn't slow-dance, so it's fairly certain that they are 'just friends', but you can't be sure.)

Then there were the games. There was the pass-the-orange-from-chin-to-chin game, and chubby bunnies, which was horrible to watch. Then there was the dance competition. I thought, as I danced, that it would end up as a popularity contest (you know, cheer loudest for the one you like best, so the person with the most mates wins), and when Becky picked me (!!!) as one of the four best, I think that was what happened. Didn't win. Damn. :-)

Quite a few people complimented me on my clothes, which was quite funny as it was all stuff I'd already bought ages ago - only my mum's necklace was borrowed. We also got into groups of eight, and made love.

Sorry, punctuation error. We got into groups of eight and made 'love'. The word 'love', using our bodies as letters.

The slow-dance was at the end, and at a loss for what to do, I held my hands in the air and yelled 'I'm available!'. It didn't work. I even asked the YFC guys, but to no avail. Bored, I started slow-dancing alone :-) Or with the invisible man, as Chloe put it. Dave and his girfriend took pity on me, and allowed me to join in, so we ended up having a group slow-dance, which was funny but nice.

Church this morning was OK - it was Church parade, hence why I went in the morning, not the evening. Stressful at first, because no-one would escort the colour. I was holding the colour, as I had predicted (wearing full uniform for once), and Sam agreed to escort, but no-one else would. For a start, they all claimed they'd done it last month (think I did it in February) and when I told Claire and Laura that Christina (who'd adamantly refused) probably wouldn't be changed in time and one of them would have to escort, Laura's Mum (Jackie, I think) said something about them doing it 'month in, month out' and how it so wasn't fair. So I went to Chris, and she refused again, saying how she still wasn't changed, and Mo told me to ask if anyone would march on, but not escort in the church. At last, Laura agreed, Christina got changed in time but refused again in the church (she'd done it last month, and she had no arm bands) and Laura said she would again, so after presenting the colour I hugged my escort and thanked them both.

But does anyone else wonder how there could be so much fuss about marching up a room a couple of times? It was driving me mad!! I mean, come on, it's not like the most difficult and painful task in the world. I was doing the hardest bit. The aggro was so much I was tempted to tell Mo to put me down to carry the colour every month, just so I could 1) confront everyone who claimed they did it 'last month' and 2) stop everyone from moaning! Also it might have backed up my argument that it really isn't that awful to have to do it two months in a row.

Anyway, sorry about the whinge, I just wanted to get that off my chest.

Must do some work now.

I'd tell you about spiritual stuff, but most of the stuff I learned this week is private.

Random word for today:

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