So I figured maybe blogging was a place for chicken people like me who wouldn't say things out loud but decide to declare it in a public place where they can lie to themselves that no one reads it. Truth is, I'm pretty sure hardly anyone comes here except maybe Fel and Dee.
So my 21st birthday is 11 days after the new year and 17 days after christmas. Whoopdeedoo. That doesn't give me long to plan a party does it? Nah. It doesn't. So I figured I won't have one.
I've dreamt up a party for sure. But I highly doubt I'd pull it off well. Here it is: Zab's imaginary 21st white party.
Walk into a room with white washed walls, everything in white, balloons (helium),tables, chairs and everyone in white cloths and stuff, something they'd want to throw away. Here's the catch. You'd just sit and wait to see who would be the ones interesting enough to ruin your party and wear black. But then again, you sit and watch in a black cloth thing and chundals. Might as well have a black party. Okay, so there's snacks and drinks and chairs along the side of the room. Games. A konkauc-petition. Yep. Drink what I make faster than me and you get a prize! (whatever that prize is and making sure the person drinking is hopefully not driving - it will not be alcoholic but it will be lethal. I think) Table games - I'll think of something here. The front of the room is open to all who want to sing (hopefully well) and possibly a karaoke competition cos singstar's just the game version of it and no one needs to win. (cos I hate losing) Music's gonna be awesome - punk, acoustic punk, rock, metal, techno (the good ones, like justice although their more electronica), etc. There can be pop, but the good sort like Gaga. Pure genius. Then speeches, people tell stupid stories about me and fake ones about knowing me when I was little and the dumb things we do. Then we get a little sentimental, I sing a song to everyone (not well I might add). At the end, the whole reason why you wear something you want to throw is because there's gonna be paint rain. Yay. The party goes on til people start to leave and wish you a happy birthday and what a great night its been and they'd want to leave for a bath. (also making sure the paint dries fast so their cars don't stain. hmm. how thoughtful.)
The end.
That was my fairytale. So I'll go get my shovel. My only decision now is to be in rot or htown. I'll have family in rot but in htown I may or may not have the possibility of friends and I don't have a boyfriend to guarentee there'll be someone there to celebrate with me. Oh the overwhelming joy.
I think I feel better. Goodnight. 16 sleeps til I turn old and fungusy. Whatever the hell that is.
ABOUTAGIRL
ZAB
My brain, my strings and my keys.
BMus Double Major
Songwriter (M)
Singer (M)
Pianist(m)
Guitarist (L)
Vision College, Hamilton, NZ LOVES
BrettCalebJoanneNick - Tutooooors and their bands DISCLAIMER
Everything in this blog is not to be taken literally sometimes.Thank you for reading and leave me a message. =)
