I think that it doesn't matter too much about how you spent your formal, as long as you had fun. All the happenings of my night can pretty much be grouped into two catergories.
- Standing around as part of the circle for the various danceoffs, shouting 'EYYY OHHH' and waving my arms whenever anything fancy happened, which to me, seemed like all the time.
- Lying on the floor near my table and staring at the ceiling. I was kinda baffled by the way that every single time I laid back down on the floor after getting a drink, the lights on the ceiling would somehow reconfigure themselves.
Oh right and also Wilfred Owen, my bread-man.
Anyway, I've run out of things to say about the formal. I'm going to type up what I'm thinking.
- blank
- my sister has started making lots of blueberry pies.
Y'know I think this lack of constant flowing thought is a good thing, or at least, it is for now, though it's not good for blogging since all my thoughts are disjointed. I'm not sure whether I want to spend these holidays going out lots or just staying at home and relaxing, or both, or something. I'm not even so sure about being a journalist anymore because it occured to me that I don't even know what a journalist does. Actually I don't know. I just don't want to be a reporter.
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