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Dear Blog,

I’m sorry for leaving you hanging on for information, but work has been manic for the last week, and it’s hard to get alone time in the apartment to concentrate on this.

So last time we spoke, I told you we were getting ready for our housewarming.

Well it was a blast and a complete success according to everyone I’ve spoken to ….especially because it was SO wild, the police had to come a break it up.

True story.

But first things tradionally come first, so I begin with the beginning….

Unusually, I actually finished work on time that night and so had plenty of time to decorate both the apartment and myself.

Our tree was up, the ceilings were nearly invisible with the amount of decorations hanging from it, there were balloons and disco balls and Tim even managed to get his hands on some strobe lights, casually ignoring the fact that we might have had epileptics at the bash. So yes, lots of colour and lights, I was banned from the music selection so it would be ‘cool’ (Bah, Humbugs!) and I whipped up large portions of my extra special punch (alcohol mixed randomly with acquired alcohol basically …I’m an improv artist!).

People actually showed up, which did away with fears of rejection resulting in one seriously lame-ass party!

So we danced-danced-danced the night away and I stayed in cool areas of the apartment so I didn’t sweat like a hog wrapped in wool and ruin my hair or drunkenly miss the fact I was baring sweat patches to the room.

It was set-up to be a pretty bitching night, until my workmates showed up ….with a non-work-Mate. You might remember him as Actual Christopher. That’s right ….the Feck-Bag himself.

And I was the lucky person who opened the door to them, so I couldn’t even spend the night avoiding any conversation with him.

“Hey guys, you made i……What are YOU doing here!?” I squeeked as I realised who was standing behind Jenny and Alan.

“Oh that’s a nice way to greet a guest,” he smirked, looking all smirky and stuff.

“Well I don’t remember asking you to be a guest, so I think I’m allowed a slip-up in the decorum department,” I snapped back.

“Yeah so, we were talking about your party and he overheard and we, you know, invited him, cause, you know…” interupted Alan with pleading Don’t Hate Us eyes.

I felt bad. Sure it wasn’t their fault if he was dropping eaves and they were in an awkward position and ….Oh damn my niceness.

“Don’t worry about it,” I shrugged. “The more the merrier, right?” I linked myself in between Jenny and Alan and led them to the punch bowl, leaving Actual Christopher to close the door.

“I’m really sorry!” Jenny whispered in my ear. “We didn’t realise he was there, and we were so shocked he wanted to come….”

“Yeah I couldn’t believe it!!!!” said Alan.

“Me neither,” I said. “He does seem to love pissing me off though, so I suppose it’s understandable from that point of view.”

After depositing my co-workers on some other friends, I made my rounds to catch up with anyone I missed coming in. After finished my learned small talk with another group of people I didn’t know, I made I contact with a rather panicked looking Olivia across the room. Knowing that Tim was teaching the box step out in the hall at that stage, I decided to rush to her aid, cos I’m all heroic and selfless and stuff.

Though I did find it strange that her panicked eye-contact grew more panicked the closer I came.

And just as I appeared by her side, I realised why she was so panicked…

“Charlotte, hi!”

Shitaki Soup!!!!!

It was Hot Boy Next Door.

“Oh …hi,” I said. “Uhm fancy seeing you here ….in my apartment”

“Yeah well I really wanted to see you, seeing as you just kinda disappeared from your old place,” he said, boring his stupid awesome eyes into my stupid sweating soul.

“Well, everything happened quickly, so….” I trailed off.

“Yeah, Sophie said you had a fight and just…” he began.

“Well, oh yes well if Sophie said, then it must be gospel,” I half-snapped. “Oh dear, there’s somebody calling me over ….see you around.”

ARGH!!!! Two seconds of conversation and he HAD to bring HER up!

“Well where are you off to like a bat out of hell!?” inquired Tim, grabbing my arm as I weaved my way through the groups squashed into our sittingroom.

“Anywhere that’s away from Hot Boy Next Door gushing about the wonderful Sophie,” I spat.

“To the punch bowl, thou art destined!” he said, pushing my to the direction of the food table and waving encouragement at me over the sea of heads.

Pouring myself an extra-full cup of punch and taking a huge gulp of the mixture, I heard:

“Drinking alone is terribly sad. Shouldn’t you have some cats to go with that?”

I turned to see Actual Christopher beside me.

“Yeah well at least I’m only alone for a minute. You, on the other hand, will be that way forever,” I snapped. “So…” I continued conversationally, as the punch trickled through my bloodstream and to my brain; “Isn’t it enough to piss me off during the 40 hours a week we work together? Do you love it so much that you need to follow me home to get another fix.”

“Actually, I was just curious to know if you’d look even prettier at a party than you usually do in work,” he said levelly.


I think my mouth actually dropped open. Either he’s really drunk or he’s completely taking the piss or he’s using amazingly-disguised sarcasm or he’s just plain evil.

Not knowing what to say, I took another drink.

Smiling smugly at my silence, he continued: “And now I know that you’re completely beautiful when you’re not running around an office, pulling at your hair.”

Cue mouth opening again.


“Charlotte? Sorry am I interupting?” asked Hot Boy Next Door, appearing behind Actual Christopher, who rolled his eyes and walked off.

I watched him walk away.

“Is that your boyfriend or something,” Hot Boy Next Door asked, following the direction of my eyes.

That brought me back to reality.

“God no,” I said, talking another drink to distract myself. “Just a guy from work. What do you want?” I asked, cringing at how rude I sounded.

Hot Boy Next Door only smiled warmly at me. “I was just going to let you know that I’m playing a gig tomorrow night and was going to ask if you’d like to come. And maybe come out for a drink with me afterwards?” he added.

My feelings at that point were some kind of mix between ecstasy, confusion and anger that I was sloppy seconds to Sophie ….or maybe a way for Hot Boy Next Door to get back at her…..

“I really miss …talking to you,” he said, stepping closer to me and brushing against my free hand.

“Uhmmmm…..” I started …..and never finished, because blue lights began flashing outside our window, pairing up with the sound of a siren.

“Police!” shouted someone beside the window.


20mins later, everyone bar me, Tim and Olivia had been ushered out of the apartment.

Turns out our upstairs neightbour, some old lady who is about 100 called the police, DESPITE the fact that we had spoken to her about the party during the week, promised her it wouldn’t go on any later than 2am and also swore that it wouldn’t be a regular occurance, resulting in her giving us her blessing ….and then calling the police at 11:45pm and claiming we were hooligans on drugs.

The police were pretty cool about us and just told us to take it easy in future, because next time they’d have to give us a warning. Apparently crazy old women are a regular with them!

So that was the housewarming….