24/01/2005
So it was decided that Dad, Mum, Nanna and I would venture over to the far-off lands of Havelock North for the long weekend, with intentions (completely honourable ones, at that!) to stay with my Auntie Carol. We had cleverly arranged our parting time as 11.00am on Saturday, that way Leigh couldn't come as she had work that night. Shazam! This let Leigh think that she had made the decision to stay home of her own free will. THINK AGAIN BATMAN! We set off in good company with our heads thrown back, laughing! Laughing fit to burst!
The trip over there wasn't so bad - I kept myself occupied by occasionally talking to fellow back-seat passenger, Nanna. Polite, strained conversation had never been so much fun! I would also occupy myself by pondering over what the boys really did in the Slytherin common room. Visions of pillow-fighting, secret swapping and re-growth dying danced through my head to the tune of "Girls just wanna have fu-un!" When I was doing neither of those things I just laughed at the voices in my head. "HahaHAHAHA, you can say THAT again!" This was such a great way to pass that time that the two hour long drive seemed like a mere 120 minutes!
Who knows what the time was when we arrived there. Speculations are that it was around 1.00pm, but I will neither confirm nor deny this statement.
So then we probably did some catching up stuff... Money giving, wild party-throwing - the usual kind of stuff we save till Leigh isn't present. Then... we moved onto the creme de la creme of the evening... The whole point of the story, if you will...
Sure, I wasn't going to the Big Day Out (perhaps the biggest musical gathering in New Zealand), but I was doing the next best thing! Going to a Havelock North blues concert! I take it back, it's not the next best thing... It's a far better thing. But I digress. The Blues, Bruise, and BBQ's festival was as concert-like as concerts go. Outside. People on rugs. People drinking. People smoking despite my crying lungs and disapproving glares. The usual...
There's only one thing worth particular mention at this concert. The glow-sticks.
They were selling glow sticks there for two BBQ bucks each (In your choice of pink or green!) once darkness had fallen. By this point in time, we had been at the concert a good many hours, and I suppose you could say the fact I had no one to converse with (except the parentals, who were gradually falling into a state of mind-numbing, alcohol-induced stupidity) was taking it's toll on me. So much that Mum bought me a deliciously green glow stick in the hopes that it would get me out of my vampire corpse position on the ground and perhaps even stop me from singing along to the blues lyrics I made up in my head. "Goebbles in dreams... Goebbles in my dreams..."
ANYWAYS, obviously my initial thoughts were along the lines of, "A glow-stick?! But I wanted to reduce my boredom!" But then I grew curious. What kind of things could a person do with a glow-stick? That's when I discovered it became a bracelet, a necklace, an anklet, and a headband! And yet... I wanted more. That's when I had a better idea. People were always saying I had a big mouth and so I wondered - I mean really wondered - if I could fit the entire glow-stick in there.
Turns out... I could. Also turns out, I probably shouldn't have. When I pulled the stick out of my gaping maw I noticed a distinctly disgusting taste in my mouth, and upon close examination of the glow-stick, I found it to be leaking. Naturally the next thing I did was to spit with haste. At this point I have to say there is something innately disturbing, and yet, innately awesome about having saliva that glows.
Needless to say, I found all this pretty damn funny, and while I was laughing like hell I got the green goop all over myself - whereupon I discovered I could draw awesome glowing symbols on my arms. It was pretty kick-ass really. Probably not the best stuff to have sinking into my pores... And I have to admit I was hoping like something that hopes a lot that the glowing liquid wasn't too toxic, because think of how embarrassing it would have been if I died - in the autopsy they would cut me open and my oesophagus and gut would have been glowing. Boy would my face have been red!
Moral of the story: Perhaps the label on the package shouldn't have been 3 and up. Geez, more like 18 and up if the want to save lives here!
Concert? Good. My stomach that night? Bad. Ride home? Long. I heart glow-sticks. AND that's the
end of THAT chapter!
