The Door is Unlocked...

Posted by Ellie Omahoney at 16:26 on 18 Jan 2010

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Okay, so the title of this blog makes it sound as if I have been being held against my will in Cornwall, which I haven't, obv. But as I've said before, confining myself to the countryside to get this book written has felt like captivity from time to time. And that feeling became actual reality over Christmas, albeit self-induced. At one point I didn't leave the house for a week. I blame the snow and the ever-ready stock of Quality Street and cheese, but also the fact that I had my four siblings to play with. Frankly, armed with a good supply of dairy products , there was nothing beyond that front door that I needed. But all good things must come to an end and by the time Epiphany rolled by, I was feeling like a (fat) rat in a cage.

And so it was that my latest trip to civilization was something of an event. I was back in town for Sam's 80s-themed 30th birthday and demob happy. I made like 15-year-old me getting ready for a Friday night at Plymouth's finest night club, Ritzy, circa 1995, spending two hours getting ready, pasting pink highlighter on my cheeks, green sparkly gunk on my eyes and fixing my hair into the kind of side ponytail that would make Debbie Gibson proud.

Having wasted days looking for a costume on Ebay, I found the perfect get-up in New Look - a pair of stone-wash effect leggings and a baggy neon yellow band teeshirt. In retrospect, I should have gone shopping with a friend: no greater shame has been known than when, as I checked out the ensemble in the changing room's communal mirrors, a gaggle of beautiful, 18-year-olds walked in, took one look and for want of a better phrase pissed themselves laughing. It was all I could do to stop myself from muttering, "It's for a party, I don't normally wear this kind of thing. I came in wearing jeans and a warm jumper, honestly, I was once like you..."

Anyway, the disapproval didn't stop me from making the most of my first party opportunity in a month - I was still up until 4.30am dancing and singing (shouting) "I think we're alone now - doesn't seem to be anyone arrounnnnnnnddddd!" in Sam's face. Normally Party King of Party Town, even Sam looked concerned at the strength of enthusiasm I was putting into some of my dance moves.

As the year of the 30ths kicks off for my friends, I suspect it will be a long one for poor Sam.

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