We arrived at Chewer's house at half five. Everyone's parents took pictures and telling each other "oh how time flies." Clocks, of course, have wings. Way-to-go logic!
We all then piled into a mini bus and waited for Keepy's late butt to finally show itself. Which it didn't. Sucks to be her!
We were all wondering as to why we were leaving so early, I mean prom starts at seven and it's like, quarter to six? Though we did have sweets, lemonade and unfortunately embarrassing pictures of all of us in the windows for everyone to look at. Fan-bloody-tastic.
The lemonade was nice and chilled so when the bus went over large potholes on the road, are laps were not only sodden, but cold too. Just what everyone wants when you're climbing out of a mini bus with all the onlookers who have their eyes about level with your crotch.
A tip for all: do not start food fights with sticky food in a cramped bus as you can guarantee that you will find some in your hair later on. (Sorry Becca)
Aside from Sod's law, the journey turned out to be quite pleasant. We were partying it up at the back of the bus to possibly the worst songs to get you in a party mood and I don't think a single one of us stopped laughing until we got to Ashton Court.
A fine example of the tone you expect in a diary entry. You'll now be able to go back over this spotting all of the spoken language features that appear in your writing, including asides and curious little fragments of sentences. The personalised tone works really well. Some technical lapses to be wary of - most noticeably are/our - but, arguably, they do serve to reinforce the slightly haphazard nature of spontaneous diary posts.
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