St. Mallory's Forever!

27 ABBY: Let's get this party started!

Sum of the day: Eyeliner plus Distracting Room-mates equals Instant Shaun of the Dead Extra.

"AGH! THAT HURTS!"

Okay, not quite the typical zombie battle cry, but you get the idea. That's really not going to help my look is it?

Eugh, that was bloomin' painful! Still, at least I haven't fallen over in these shoes yet — why on earth did I let Christie talk me into wearing heels to the disco? I suspect even the short walk down to the music block is going to cripple me for life.

And yes, the disco will be taking place in the music block. The main school hall is too full of seats, and that's the only other big venue we have. Plus, there's a stage where we can put the DJ and stuff, and it's a fair way away from the school gates in case anyone crept off to try anything nefarious ... Not that you'd get far, being up here on the Sussex Downs, miles from civilization.

I have to say, choosing an outfit has been a nightmare for me. I swear I've worn every article of clothing in my wardrobe before, and I left all my nice shoes at home by mistake (hence why I'm in heels. I'm not usually this suicidal, honest!) so I'm stuck with the ones I originally just tried on as a joke in Brighton. Apparently, they suited me. Beginning to think this wasn't such a good plan.

The fact that I am now wiping copious amounts of stray eyeliner off my cheek is only serving to compound this idea. And this before the party even starts!

Anyway, I'd best go help Don Pedro straighten her hair. She always does before a disco — it's like a little ritual. Not that she needs to make any special effort. She'll have every boy in the room drooling over her from the moment she walks in the door. Long black hair, that Spanish Mediterranean perma-tan complexion and big brown eyes that were probably made by Cadbury's.

Naturally pretty people like that shouldn't be allowed to breed. What chance does it give the rest of us? She hardly wears any makeup, and she still looks at thousand times better than I do even after Christie and Pip have helped me with my hair, nails and all the rest of it. Not that I'm jealous or anything. Much.

Now, where was I? Sorry, I keep getting distracted. Xuan and Helen are talking music in the cubie next to mine, and coupled with Pip's hairdryer at full blast and Christie and Georgia in hysterics across the way it's a bit of a racket up here.

But I'd better dash — it's time to partaaaay! (insert poor imitation of Abba-style disco dancing here.)

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