The Night's Events.

Monicat and me
Me and Yang
Anders using me as an arm rest, that idiot! With Henrik.
I like the blue in this picture.
Candid shot - all except Mon, who is ever-ready. Aren't you babe! LOL.
Yang, Rosario, Henrik. Yang was red as a beet that night, from too much beer. Tomorrow he's going to jump out of a plane - his skydiving jump, I pray he won't still be hungover then!

Footwear of choice : Mon's plaid-brown pumps, and my Jack Purcells. I restrung them with white laces for tonight! To go with my new black Topshop skinnies. ;)
Ahh, the pains of unrequited love.
Disco ball glowglowglow the whole night...
Nicola, me and Mon

So tonight about thirteen of us exchange students trooped down to Revolution, lured by the promise of good music and a eff-oh-cee (free) good time. Even though J was going, I decided not to let him ruin my night, and went ahead anyway. Revolution turned out to be a clubby type of pub, a sort of hybrid that played popular retro/funk/hip-hop/pop, but had a lot of standing/sitting room as opposed to a proper dance floor.

The music was danceable (pretty good actually), but most people were too busy shouting into others' ears, and so I spent the night half-bored, half-dancing. Revolution shut its doors at 12am though, so we were thrown out with half the night still waiting. There was a debate regarding whether we should go to another club called Delfter Krug (?), but a few of us weren't keen because there was a queue and it cost 5 pounds.

In the end, we trooped back to our hostel and had a kitchen party there. Along the way, I picked up the Schwartz Co. burgers that were apparently raves (Yibs, I tried it for you!), but it was above average, not mind-blowingly orgasmic. I sacrificed my hands to eat my hot burger, because by the time I reached home my hands were totally void of any feeling from the icy cold.

Reaching Maple House, we went up to Chelsea's kitchen, where the Norwegians pulled out Gin and Tonic, and Red Bull. I laughed harder than I've laughed for a long while in that kitchen - the drunk/hawt Norwegians were being extremely goofy and way less reserved than they usually were; Nicola was telling us what 'pompino' in Italian is (it means 'dick' - I told him it sounds like 'bambino' - and he told me, 'you no make bambino with pampino, NO!' hahaha); Monica was challenging Henrik to give us the free lapdance promised; Chelsea told the Norwegians they had 'handsome red' eyes (actually she said 'hints of', but Anders and Henrik preferred to think otherwise); Nicola and the two boys were making horribly silly impersonations of the way Mon and I speak bahasa indo/singlish.

We ended the partay at 2am, when people started leaving. We met some new Italian and German people there in the kitchen who don't stay in Thornbank, but didn't really get to talk to them. Another time then :)

Not a bad night, if I may say so myself.