I intended to spend my Saturday night studying like a good student who's spending a hell lot of money on this LL.M. programme and I'm quite ashamed to say that all I did was to read 3 pages of my International Law and the Use of Force textbook. My old procrastinating habits from law school days clearly have stuck with me through thick and thin, while good habits that I should cultivate - like planning a schedule and sticking to it and finishing what I set out to do and not getting distracted every 10 seconds - are still completely alien to me. If I screw this up, I'm gonna hate myself forever.
On a happier note, I had a relatively good Friday night despite a couple of hiccups and annoyances. One of the students that I met from the LSE LL.M. (I wish people - like the actual administration running this programme - would punctuate the abbreviation properly) programme sent me an invitation on Facebook to a gathering that some students were having in a club in Covent Garden. I had nothing to do on Friday and I didn't want to have nothing to do on a Friday night, so I accepted and sent out invitations to the people with whom I've either become friends or am hopefully starting to become friends. Initially I was going to leave my accommodation with this other girl who's staying in the place as me and go to the club with her, but she was leaving at 7.15 and I was too lazy to rush through my routine, so I said I'd meet her and the rest of the people at the club itself at 8.30.
First, I left my room late because I am seriously poor with time these days (a sign of dyscalculia - seriously). Second, when I reached Covent Garden station and attempted to locate the club with the use of my phone, I got massively lost. I was supposed to meet my friend - this Serbian guy who lived in Hungary - at like, 9.10 or something, and he'd already reached and was outside the club when I got out of the station. I entered the address in my phone and the map showed it as located at the Strand somewhere, near the river. I walked towards the Strand; it seemed weird. My friend called me and asked where I was and he told me that I should be walking away from the Strand. He gave me directions and I thought I understood, but I didn't. I walked up and down Southampton Street (or was it Road) like 10 million times; walked around Covent Garden market 20 million times; and finally was pissed off and flustered - literally and otherwise - enough to ask a bouncer at some random club where the hell this elusive and badly-located Roadhouse place was.
He told me turn left and turn right. I turned left and turned right - and finally saw it. It was at the market. It was to the left side of the centre of the market where I'd walked like four times previously. I don't know why the hell I didn't see it. My poor friend was waiting for me for something like 40 minutes and I'm pretty sure he was getting irritated even though he didn't show it.
Anyway, I intended to get the free entry and reach before 9 but obviously that plan went to the dogs, so I had to pay 10 pounds for entry. The security guard - this black woman - was super grumpy and snapped at me when I didn't hear her asking me to open my bag and tried to go to the counter. Once again, my bottle of water was confiscated, just like the other time when I went to this other club near my place (which was really boring). Lesson learnt: Never bring my own water the next time I go to a club.
No one set a place to meet so we were blindly looking around hoping to see some familiar faces at first, when I finally spotted the girl that I was supposed to go with and this other German girl whom I got to know during orientation. I got myself a drink - a mojito; I didn't want a beer because I didn't want to wipe off my lipbalm which was probably the stupidest reason of all-time considering I could've saved 2.95 pounds if I'd got a beer - and we met even more people from the course. I knew about three or four of them; this ang moh guy that I tried to talk to didn't seem too friendly so I didn't give a shit, and this Belgian girl that I met at that boring club was all weird so I didn't really care either. A few minutes later this super cute Thai girl with a really cool and edgy haircut from my Self Determination course (which I think I'm dropping to do my dissertation, FML) showed up and I talked to her for the first time.
The reason I had a good night was because, apart from the company which was better than the previous time, there was a live band and they played proper music. After standing around the tables shouting into each others' ears in an attempt to talk, I followed everyone else into the crowd in front of the stage (with my banana colada in hand - tasted like crap and was super icy with nearly no alcohol, which I guess was a good thing for me) and it was so awesome because the music was awesome. It was awesome despite the getting shoved and pushed by this girl in front of me with a huge bag and two couples behind me who were jumping around and not giving a fuck who they were bumping into or pushing against. On this note, I must say that it was amazing how people blatantly pushed other people around and no one got pissed off; it was almost like it was standard practice and acceptable behaviour. It shows a lot, doesn't it? How can it be remotely acceptable to dance away wildly without giving a thought to the people around you and how you may be literally encroaching into their space and bumping into them, even in a club setting (arguably, especially in a club setting)? It was really annoying.
Despite that, those 30-45 minutes were awesome. The band played some Oasis which I absolutely loved (Don't Look Back in Anger and of course, Wonderwall) and played a medley of awesome songs for their closing, which included The White Stripes' Seven Nation Army, Nirvana's Smells Like Teen Spirit, U2's With or Without You/I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For and some others that I don't remember. That was super fun.
There was this irritating guy who put his hand on my waist and tried to get me to dance with him and my body language was all, "Fuck off." I even deliberately elbowed his hand off me but he still kept trying to get my attention so I just pushed past a couple of people to my left and got away from him. He fucked off all right, and thank goodness the other guys kept their hands to themselves.
After the band finished their set, the usual clubbing music came on and I met a group of Brazilian students, but I didn't really feel like shouting because my throat was slightly sore, so I just stood around and shouted when necessary. Gangnam Style was played right at the start and after that was over, I got really, really, REALLY bored. I don't like the dance/house/trance shit; it's so sleepy and boring. Really, the only songs that I enjoyed in clubs in Singapore were like, Justin Timberlake's Sexyback and Blue Monday (not sure which version but definitely not Orgy's cover). The only song that I found acceptable after the band was done was Gangnam Style, which says a lot about how much I enjoy that kind of shit music.
I left with the Serbian guy at about 1.45; he was also bored of the music. I was wondering how I was going to get back when he reminded me of this thing called Night Bus. It was lucky that the club was near school because I had a direct bus back. His bus came first and I insisted that he boarded it, so I waited at the bus stop for a good 20 minutes for my bus, during which time I was cold, slightly apprehensive and fucking tired. I was glad that no one harassed me between the time my friend left and when my bus arrived.
I wish I had taken more photos but...I didn't. This is all I have:
The Serbian guy:
With one of the Brazilians who had mastery of the Gangnam Style dance:
Since I'm posting pictures, this one was taken two weeks ago at the Book Club (the boring clubbing experience):
No, I wasn't drunk at all. She's from Switzerland and is Swiss-German like Roger and she went back to Switzerland for the weekend so she wasn't at the Roadhouse. So sad.
Okay I'm super tired so I'm going to bed. It's 3.15 a.m. I don't know why I keep doing this to myself.