I feel really rough this morning. The party was a nightmare, just as I expected. Luckily the saps from school didn’t bother me too much as they all stayed in little groups and didn’t mix, there was a load of drunken, stupid behaviour though – loads of turning the music up so loud that it shook the house and had the neighbours complaining – it was so hilarious, not. Some idiot would tell the neighbour they would turn it down, get it turned down and then two minutes later turn it up even louder and laugh and put two fingers up out the window, it was so funny I nearly died laughing, what pratts. Then Imogen’s dad stumbled in, he was clearly already drunk, but he just stood about drinking whiskey and staring at people, at least there was no crying this time. Claire was really showing off with the coffee boy in tow, and Andrew was obviously drinking too much and getting all loud and stupid. Maybe it was me, not being in the mood for it. I got angry because I felt that I’d almost been forced into going to this party when I didn’t want to, and I didn’t want these idiots to think I was their friend and it all seemed really shabby and stupid. But at the same time I felt guilty because Imogen had done all this for me and I should have told her I didn’t want it rather than letting her go to all this trouble and then moan about it. So the upshot was that I drank loads more than I wanted to and hardly talked to anyone. Matt was chatting to people from the pub for most of the night and obviously wanted me to go and join him but I just couldn’t be arsed.