Food, food, food

Spent the end of last week celebrating my birthday. On Friday, went to the Hard Rock Cafe with my friends. On my dad's advice, I didn't book a table. He said that it wasn't as popular as it used to be and people didn't queue up outside, so it wouldn't be necessary. And he was right that no one was queuing outside. Sadly it is no less popular - we were told that we would have to wait an hour and a half for a table, or... sit outside! Asked them if it would make any difference if it was my birthday, the hostess said no. I think she had a thing for me though. Anyway, we decided to take the table outside, which I was too bothered with, but Viral looked freezing which made me feel really bad. Tried to order some alcohol, they asked for ID (which we didn't have), but, thinking on my feet, I pointed out that it was my 18th birthday, and then that I was clearly the baby of the group, and so everyone else must have been 18 as well. Slightly sceptical, the waitress gave us the benefit of the doubt, although in the end we only ordered a beer for me and a martini for Mikey. Slightly worried now that if we go back next year and I say it's my 18th birthday, they'll remember that I said it was my 18th this year, realise we lied and refuse to serve us! That's possibly unlikely though.

Onto the food, we started off with a big plate of nachos with salsa and guacamole and sour cream and beans and cheese and jalapenos, which we all shared. Intentionally didn't order any beef or chicken on them so Viral could eat them, who I ended up having a very interesting discussion with about the pronounciation of 'jalapeno'. For my main course I had a 'Pig Sandwich', which was bloody gorgeous. From the Hard Rock website: 'Select pork, hickory smoked then hand-pulled so it’s tender and juicy.“An old Southern delicacy” with our famous vinegar-based Bar-B-Que sauce. Includes French fries, cole slaw & BBQ beans.' Didn't eat the cole slaw though. I don't like cole slaw. For dessert I shared a hot fudge sundae with Tom and Depul, tucking into the ice cream of which, Depul delivered the classic line: "It's not hot". Then all the staff came out and sang me 'Happy Birthday', handing me a complimentary bowl of ice cream with a candle in it, which was a lovely treat in the freezing cold. Then this big party of people came out of the cafe, made a circle on the pavement and a woman stepped into the middle, who then went on to strip. Which was nice. Not as nice as all the Muslim townies going "Oh my God, man! This is against religion!!!" though. All in all, a good evening, although I did feel bad about making my friends spend it in the cold, but I went home and took that out on my family. Oh, and Mehul didn't turn up. He said that he was ill. I think I believe him.

Saturday afternoon, I went to the orthodontist and got rubber bands rammed into my mouth. Pretty uncomfortable, made eating that night difficult, to say the least. Slightly unfortunate considering that I was eating out with my parents that night in the continuing birthday celebrations. Started with squid and chorizo, followed by seared scallops and finished off with the chocolate tart, which was way too rich. The chocolate tart is always too rich in these place, but I never learn. Than they brought me a petit four with a candle in (slightly less impressive than Hard Rock's gesture), which despite my chocolate tart torture, my mum convinced me to eat. Suffice to say, ended the evening feeling pretty sick. Not that that was the only thing the Hard Rock Cafe did better - this place was nice enough but also massively overpriced. £50 a head?! I think not. So I guess you could say that I ate the best of the worst food and the most average of the best that weekend. Thankfully, it seemed to put an end to the depression (and the really bad spelling :o) I'd been suffering with over the previous two or three weeks, as well as the nightmares which had me pulling a calf at one point, from thrashing about in my sleep.

Had a few brilliant ideas lately. Firstly, tomorrow I'm going to steal a painting from my school art gallery. Admittedly I painted it, but they won't know that when they see it missing. Really hope they don't have any CCTV in there. Also, I want to people to hold up signs in the headmaster's assembly like the crowds do in wrestling. When he's walking out on stage, the signs could go up with stuff like 'I'm your bitch, headmaster!' and 'The chaplin: better than Jesus' on them. Would be classic. Could be difficult convincing enough people to put their necks on the line to do it though. Finally, I want to get a gospel preacher to speak at Jewish assembly. Sticking with school, I've been getting some great jokes into my Physics homeworks and tests lately. I won't bother repeating most of them, because they're pretty technical, but I had some time left at the end of my last test, so I marked it. Hope it didn't go unappreciated. Economics as been a whole other story. Funny, but more through lack of effort than creative flair. Had to give a presentation today; just broke down in laughter towards the end, it was that poor. I think all this goes to show that I'm taking myself a lot less seriously than I used to. I wish others would do the same. Not sure what it means. Probably just the calm before another massive low point.

Also at school - walked into a desk in IT today. Have myself a dead leg. Spent the last two days swallowing the rubber bands that I'm now wearing in my mouth. Should probably take them out before I eat. And the careers department have assured me that my UCAS form has been sent off, despite the fact, a week on, I have yet to receive written confirmation from UCAS. With the Oxbridge deadline tomorrow, I'm slightly paranoid, but if my school cocks things up for me, I'll probably just sue them.

Now for a token comment on current affairs. I kind of feel sorry for David Beckham. I mean come on, if you were perceived as being as thick as him and you came up with an idea as ingenius as he did, wouldn't you want to tell the whole world about it as well? It's just unfortunate that telling the whole world about it made him come across as being thicker than ever.

In conclusion, the worst thing that can ever happen to you is being spat in the face by someone with really bad breath when they're talking to you. A bit lands on your lips, and all you can concentrate on is not licking your lips so as not to get their stinky spit in your mouth, but the more you think about it, the more conscious you become of how dry your lips are, and the more you need to lick them. You just want to wash your face, but you can't! There's no sink available! I just hope that none of you ever have to go through this.

PS - I don't think I swore (properly) once in this entry. I really am changing...