My Guide To Clubbing As A 25 Year Old.

HAHAHAHA.

I’ll elaborate on the title in a second, but just know that I’ve been writing this blog post in my head since I got in the queue on Saturday night. My first queue for a club in about ….six years? Jesus.

I even went on the Facebook page that afternoon and put us on the guest-list so we qualified for a free Jagerbomb.

(The best bit: it wasn’t even a Jagerbomb and when we went to the bar, confused, and proffering these bits of paper that said Promo Drink, the barman had to explain what this weird other drink was. In the end he said “it’s free and it’s alcoholic – will that do?” …yes please thank you sir.)

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actual photo of myself

If you’re like me, feeling old as balls even though you’re probably statistically in the prime of your life, and normally treat yourself to a podcast in bed at 11pm, occasionally reminiscing the days where you went out before snuggling down with a hot chocolate – live through me and my Saturday night to know clubbing hasn’t changed since 2012.

I realised I was out of my depth when we entered the queue. This is a really niche reference, so if you get it please Tweet me and let me know but the girl in front of me in the queue really reminded me of Effy’s friend from her episode in Series 1 of Skins. You know the one that borrows tights off her mum and says “I don’t think many orgy’s happen in Luton?”

Oh, and I also couldn’t take my eyes off the guy who had dinner plates for pupils and kept trying to gnaw his friends ear off. He was pretty interesting as well.

Once we were inside, I instantly became aware I was wearing too many clothes. I was wearing a top AND a bra and I think now your options are one or the other?! I honestly need scaffolding to hold myself up so I think that’s me tapping out of that craze for now.

Also, do people not wear tights anymore?! They must have gone out of fashion when I was in baby-land because I felt incredibly overdressed with my 80 deniers on.

However, I did see someone wearing what looked like a Knickerbox for Ann Summers bodice tucked into some skinny jeans, so I guess she missed a memo as well. And the girl wearing obligatory denim shorts with patterned tights – good to know that 2009 style is still going strong. Big up.

I was standing there watching people not know the words to songs like I Believe In A Thing Called Love by The Darkness (honestly, this guy was stood there looking like Mark Corrigan in that picture above whilst all his friends were performing dramatic air-guitar solos, it was beautiful.)

Dog Days Are Over by Florence And The Machine as well. I realised it was a ~classic tune for all the people born in this millennium whereas I remember it being her only single on her Myspace page and Flo being on BBC Breakthrough Music.

One of the other highlights was, as we meandered from room to room trying to find somewhere to dance and/or people watch – a full series of Hollyoaks happened in the same corner of an emergency exit.

First I saw  a guy get cornered by a group of girls, and he was having to explain himself. Then I saw the girls in the toilets squeezing into the same cubicle to relay his message to whoever he’s offended. Then, in the final act, I saw the evident main girl confront the guy about whatever the fuck he’d done, and by the time we left they were getting off. The circle of life.

I also heard someone saying, excitedly, “we’ll stay here until about 2, half 2 and then we’ll go on to somewhere else, yeah? That sound like a plan?”

Mate. I was yawning at 1am and managed to drag my friend home at about 1:45 (that might be an exaggeration, it was probably half past.),

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ME

So my guide to clubbing as a 25 year old married mother of one is: go and be Mark Corrigan. Be Louis Theroux at the orgy.

Don’t get sucked in, because you end up drinking Blue VK (WHO THE BLOODY HELL DO I THINK I AM?!) whilst watching people born in 2001 sing Shotgun by George Ezra and hurting your neck dancing to Slipknot in the ~alternative room.

But still go, because it’s hilarious and you can always get chips on the way home.

Right. I’m off for a sleep because it’s Tuesday afternoon and I am still knackered from getting home at 2:30am.

Saying Goodbye To January

Today I want to celebrate with you all as we wave goodbye to January, the month that has lasted 37,000 years and everything that she holds. Bring on February, bring on Valentine’s Day and PANCAKES.

hayleyldoyle

Things that have made January absolute dog shit and should be forgotten about as we move into the real year that begins on 1st February.

The whole Piers Morgan sausage roll debate. I can’t think of anyone in life who actually likes Piers Morgan. I eat meat yet am actively searching out a Greggs that sells the vegan sausage rolls so I can eat one and enjoy it in a small action of “fuck you!” to that piece of ham.

That really cute dog died. I KNOW. And what made it even worse was that The Really Cute Dog died of a broken heart because his best friend died about a year ago! What a terrible start to the year.

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Brexit. Shouldn’t have even made it into 2019. NEXT.

People who couldn’t understand why others were doing Dry January and had to post snidey pictures about how much they love prosecco all the time. No-one cares about your slightly moist January.

The fact that Mrs Hinch has been famous for about six months and I still haven’t been able to buy my own Minkeh. This is a niche one but for those that get it, they’ll GET IT. I’m really sad and cannot fully commit to cleaning my house until I own one.

Local Facebook groups where everyone is racist. Really makes you want to pack up and move somewhere nice and liberal. And then you start thinking about Brexit again. And then you start grumbling about how it’s still Dry January and you could really do with a drink. And the cycle goes on forever.

Things that will get us through. Trudging through life one day at a time.

I remembered the other day I have churros in my freezer that I bought for Christmas and never ate. There’s always a silver lining. And I’ve got two: a packet of caramel churros and a packet of chocolate ones too!

Ariana Grande is really living for us all right now. I even bought a t-shirt with “thank u, next” written on it. I’ve not even got an ex, I’ve been with Reece since I was 15 years old yet you’d better believe I am in the shower screaming how grateful I am.

Brendon Urie is out there right now, living his life. Just think about how gorgeous he is and that’ll get you through the cold winter nights.

I have forgotten skinny jeans. I’m now living my life in a pair of leopard print culottes that I had to double check weren’t pyjamas when I bought them because they’re so ffff’in dreamy. I recommend that you do the same.

Somewhere in your house, you’ve forgotten about a pack of Christmas chocolate and/or biscuits. Let’s not talk about the tub at work that’s full of Bounty’s and shame. I was moving some of Elliot’s Christmas presents the other day and found a box of M&S chocolate biscuits. God bless me.

So as we say goodbye to this god-forsaken month; raise your glass of cheap prosecco high (I’m doing dry February as well, because I love pain so I’ll have a cuppa tea) and let’s celebrate being one step closer to leaving the EU!

Cheers!
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