You Are Epic. (a quick recap of nye)

Last night was not my most subtle display of tonsil hockey. In the middle of a packed room, watching a hardcore band. Oh dear. I asked the guy next to me for some of his beer as I was thirsty, drunk and couldn’t be bothered sifting through the masses of people to get to the bar. It probably translated to me mumbling “gimme some beer” whilst simultaneously shooting him sex eyes and motioning my glass aggressively at him. It certainly resulted in a bit of a giggle and a few kisses. I really like kissing.

Emily, what about ‘getting what you want’? Well, funnily enough, I’d been introduced to him earlier in the evening by Mr. Thorn-in-my-side. Jesus what was I thinking. I am still interested in him, but he dodged my kiss earlier in the night. Somewhere in between him and I leaving a picnic with all of our friends and going to the pub where we had tickets to see a few bands, I decided it was ok to kiss him in public. Evidently not. Fast track a few hours and I unintentionally VERY publicly (including in front of thorny) ended up making out with punky. Not just once either. Quite a few times and rather passionately. He asked for my number and told me he was going to a party for the actual count down but that he’d contact me afterwards. I didn’t wait for that, I went ahead and sent him a text saying “you are epic” within about 20 minutes of him leaving. Really? Reaaaaally? I couldn’t have thought of something more intelligible to say or even perhaps something less embarrassing? I was lucky he even sent me a post party text. Which he did, at a little past midnight, to which I replied with one word and then he drunk dialled me about 20 times up until 4am. The funny thing about having your period, it really prevents you from misbehaving.

Thorny ended up leaving the festivities not soon after my kissing display, I didn’t kiss anyone else after Punky either. The night basically turned out to be a bit of a disaster for a number of reasons, as is the nature of most hyped up celebrations I guess.

Little black book of 2012 has one number added to it. If only I could remember his name!

Thankfully thinking about naked men less than the last time I published,
Emily

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