The Long Walk Home

Saturday, like every other Saturday I've spent in Hamilton since September, was messy.

Reports from the night include hurling abuse, out of control dancing, running, shrieking, and far too much drinking. It ended with me walking home at 4am in the rain.

So maybe not my best idea yet. Before I was even out of town, I'd been accosted by no less than three people, asked for directions to Firecats (it probably looked like I'd just come from there), and even been offered a ride home from my mother, which I weirdly refused in favour of braving the streets of Hamilton.

Oh, and did I mention that Donny was texting me airy, wannabe philosophical messages about his imminent drowning in the river. Dear God. How am I the one that comes off "crazy" in this relationship? Of course he didn't actually do it, but this didn't stop me fretting for the last 30 minutes of my walk about being charged in relation to his death. Surely there was some way of whoever found him on the river bed reading the messages from me in his phone and coming to the conclusion that I'd driven him to it?

I was upset in town when my "Waikato Sportswoman of the Year" and "Halberg nominee" accolades got me neither free drinks nor congratulations from Donny (mind you, who was I kidding? Most of his texts on the night lamented the fact that he wasted $8 on a kebab he wasn't going to eat. Oh, Hamilton) and it sounds like I took my frustrations out on people I spotted who I "kind of knew" - yes, that includes that guy from the gym I had a crush on earlier in the year - screaming abuse at him for no apparent reason (it may have been that he didn't initially recognise me with my Gaga hair, but that excuse didn't really suit drunken me), another guy who infuriated me by claiming he was friends with Ben, and all night calling the love of Becky's life "Lance Armstrong". To be fair, he does kind of look like him. And I for one would love to be compared to Lance. So I don't know what his problem was...

The moral of the story? I think it's high time for me to clean up my act. It was almost 30 hours ago and I still have sore feet from the walk home, and concerns about Donny's state of mind (although weirdly, we had a civil conversation for a considerable part of yesterday, leaving me perplexed). As of today, any New Years' plans have been tentatively cancelled in favour of hiring a Nintendo64 and playing Zelda for the rest of my time in Hamilton.

What day of Christmas is it today? The TENTH. Oh, man.

Whose idea was this?! I'm really stuck. Maybe later on today...