Home and back again

On the weekend I went home, taking some American friends with me. It was a fun weekend. I hadn't felt homesick beforehand, and nor do I now really, but going out on Saturday night, and partying with some old friends, made me feel slightly nolgastic.

As I hugged a friend and he excitedly told me he has a 'woman' in his life, as I danced with some others and as I ran into primary school buddies I hadn't seen for a while, it hit me - everyone is at that stage where things are changing. A lot.

When we left school, we all tried hard to maintain that same connection throughout the first year out of high school. As we move onto the second year out, you can see everyone being pulled into different directions. We are now a part of 'Life.' We are now growing up and turning into adults (well majority)

Leaving home felt weird again, after seeing all my friends. However once back in Wollongong, and after my first full day of uni yesterday, tutorials and all, the Wagga trip seemed like a distant memory already.

Sometimes I hate the fact we can't stay in touch with everyone. I think of close friends who have moved away, or even the crew I used to just meet out at the pubs and party with, and know that eventually these people are just a small part of our lives. I have to accept this, I know, but I do so reluctantly. Whether it be a former close friend, or a guy I had a casual relationship with that ended on good terms, whether it be the boys that I used to have dance offs with, or the girls I used to have gossip sessions with in the bathrooms. Eventually the ties fall off, and they become little specks in the distance. But such is life I guess.

Hectic hectic night

So my friend Zeb and I were talking, on Friday and were both like we need an awesomely drunk night Saturday! So the plan was underway.

So Zeb picks me up at 7, and we go back to his house with some others to get started on the pre drinks.
By 9, Zeb is rather drunk and me deciding that bourbon and cola doesn't agree with me at all, ends up moving onto the Passion Pop.
By 10, Zeb is passing out, waking up and vomiting everywhere. Well 3/4 of a bottle of vodka will do that to you. So Zeb and I, and our fun night at the pubs won't be happening tonight.
I myself, am feeling no effects on the alcohol yet. 2 cans of bourbon, and a whole bottle of passion pop, so I sit there vaguely wondering what is wrong with me.

However after Zeb tells us he has called '18 taxis' before passing out for good, the remaining of us going out manage to scrounge a lift to another friends house, while 3 others stayed home with Zeb to make sure he is ok.

As we start walking to the pubs, I am feeling good. A little tipsy, the alcohol is doing its work finally. Delayed reaction, but hey, I was drinking rather slowly.
At the pub Tayt and I down some goon sunrises and do some sort of shot. This is where the night becomes a blur.
I remember being in the toilets, and nearly falling asleep on the ground there. Who says I am not a classy lady?
I don't even make it till 12 am before I get kicked out of The Vic. To this day, I still have no idea what I did to get kicked out? Did I fall over? Just act drunk and disorderly? I cannot remember for the life of me!

So we head to the nightclub instead and time passes super quick there. My friend who I am going home with, leaves, but I didn't remember her leaving at all.
Thankfully another friend is able to walk me home. How he put up with me I don't know. I kept randomly stopping in the middle of the street to sit down, fell over in the gutter. Got an epic bruise because of it.

I awake the next morning to hear my phone ringing. I am on the ground, in a house with no furniture. This is not my friends sisters house!
Feeling surprisingly good, I make my way upstairs to see my friend sitting in another room with no furniture. As I walk up the stairs I see a male passed out on the ground in the middle of the hallway. On closer inspection I realise we are in the house next door to her sisters house. Obviously I would of realised we were at Marcus's last night instead of Jess's, but the only memory of coming home I have, is falling over when I went to step off the gutter.

Felt a little queasy after a while, but was surprised at how well I pulled up considering how drunk I had been. It was nothing a chicken nugget happy meal couldn't fix!

All in all, interesting night. In a fuzzy, 'oh gosh I can't remember a thing' kind of way.