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Saturday November 4th, 2000

I’m queing for the toilet again and am just about to go in, when Kate B rushes up to me and is like “don’t go to the bathroom, come to the balloon room!!!!”

So she takes my hand and we run down the long shiny silver corridor into the kitchen, people clustered around red cabinets and I notice this hole in the wall. It’s about a metre square, and Kate’s clambering into it from a wooden chair, so I follow her. The hole is a tunnel almost a meter long, and it feels a little bit like Cube so I’m a trifle aprehensive, but the sides of the tunnel are padded with bubble wrap, which is cool. Then I emerge at the other side, surveying this huge room filled with black balloons, lit by some UV light somewhere, and a TV glaring blue in the corner. I slide down onto a leather chair, and dive under the masses of balloons. To my great excitement, I discover the the whole room is paved with mattresses. Kate and I don’t stop laughing for like ten whole minutes. We frolic and play, tossing balloons up in the air or occasionally diving on top of them. I’m pretty tired, so I burrow my way down (the balloons are waist high) and think about how nice it would be to sleep in there. There’s random heads all over the place and I have no idea how many people are under the balloons. There’s a wet patch in one corner which I hope is just a spilt drink. It’s a marvellous place – it reminds me of the ball pits at Rainbow’s End, but updated for the older generation who are out of their minds. I hide for ages, while Kate and her friend fossick around for me, calling out “Jo? Jo? where are you Joanna?” before eventually rising up, scattering balloons everywhere going “RAAAAAAH!”.

But I knew that I couldn’t stay in the balloon room forever, so eventually I surface, and clamber out of the room, still giggling at home cool it was. I wander into the dance room and dance for a while before I decide to go investigate people further. I think that I was looking for the guys wearing Ghostbuster style backpacks, but I didn’t find them. Instead I found myself in another lounge, lit by glowing bubbling columns, where a laptop was hooked up to a projecter, shooting crazy crackling spirally graphics onto a bed sheet pinned to the opposite wall. This room’s playing lighter music so I dance by myself for a bit, before curling up on a couch to stare at the graphics. I’m sorry, I keep cutting in and out of past and present tense, so maybe you should just pretend I’m doing it to be hip. Anyways, so I’m staring at the graphics when in come a couple of people. This girl introduces herself as Rhiannon, and so I have Fleetwood Mac running through my head. She tells me that she was me at the last party, just staring at the screen until it burnt into her eyes, and introduces me to the guy responsible for it. He used to live in the flat – we were in his old bedroom even – but he moved out to move in with his g/f. I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to move out of that house, it was so cool. It made @Garland seem inadequate! Rhiannon made me get up and dance again, to some heinously cheesy music, so eventually I wandered off again. I’m not too sure where I went.

Kate kept going through my bag looking for my hipflask, and in return I kept going through her bag after her black cherry lipgloss. Normally, I don’t rate Bodyshop products very much (the shops smell lovely, but I reckon it’s faked, just like the KFC scent), but this s tuff is the complete shit. Anyways. Eventuallly I went back to the Screen room, and was watching, when this guy came in and so I struck up a conversation with him. He was the marketing manager of Durasel – you know, that stuff you put on books. We were talking about flatmates for some reason, and he was like “and you don’t screw the crew” so I blushed, and he was like “no, you didn’t! it’s the golden rule!” and he started yelling at me so I just laughed. Last week i was at lunch with Kate H and Brad, and for some reason I was trying to persuade Brad to give Clayton head (i can’t remember why, but I’m sure there was a really valid reason) and so I was like “come on Brad – the flat that lays together stays together” and then both him and Kate H were staring at me going “umm Joanna” and I was like “yeah okay, shut the fuck up, bad example”. But that was a weird side diversion story.

Actually, I’m getting tired of telling every single little detail of the party. There were some strange pickup lines including “Why haven’t I seen you before – or were you ignoring me?”. I got stalked from room to room by this ugly guy in a singlet. Johnno showed up while I was lying by myself back in the balloon room so I talked to him for a bit, which was neat. I talked to one of the hostesses of the party, a nd found out there were six hundred balloons, all filled off a dive tank. I danced to happy hardcore by myself. The lightswitch in the bathroom was finicky. I will never forget the balloon room. Kate Johnno and I eventually left around about 4, by which time everyone else was gone and they were shutting down. It was brilliant.

“actually I have no urge to travel at all”

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