Nightlife Review
Staying in at my parent's house:

I have done a bit of this over the years. I must say, it has had varying results. Unlike some parents who smoke pot, snort amphetamines, laugh and even converse with their children, my parents and I enjoy avoidance, not mentioning anything other than becoming a professional doctor, and shouting over why the pistachios aren't laid out right for the non-existant guests.
I give last Friday night a thumbs down. Yes, the house was looking beautiful thanks to our Polish cleaner- (the first cleaner who I am not paranoid about the ongoing conspiracy of my being dropped toothbrush and not disinfected). The night outside was even non-offensive.
However, as I donned my nightdress for the expectant 5 hours of relaxation and being a hardcore bum, the screaming started. It was in Hindi so I didn't understand it. But it probably was to do about why my mother used an erroneous pronoun. Whatever, this continued as I sat in bed and stared at the wall thinking of what to do. Television seemed a great option.
Although I have been down on English TV since returning from America, there must be something on. Maybe I'll get lucky with a triple bill of "The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air". So 30 minutes later having prepared myself by getting out of bed and walking the 15 metres to the living room, I see that my parents have occupied the room.
This poses two problems. Firstly I shouldn't have blown the fuse on our American TV by plugging it in without an adaptor, thus reducing us to a single TV house. I take full responsibility for that. Secondly however, Virgin media offers a 4 Indian channel package each worse than the other. And no matter how loud, obnoxious and terrible the program is, the fact that it is Indian is enough for my parents to bear and enjoy it. I am being honest when I say, I can't sit down in the room for more than 3 minutes without getting so agitated I have to leave. Just the editing alone on some of the shows is enough to bother me.
So no TV, despite my mother's begging to come sit down and spend time with the woman that carried me in her womb for 9 months. My dad didn't care and said something in Hindi like "To hell with the little son of a bitch"
Next, the internet. Well, everyone is out because its Friday night, so no online exchanges. I cant find anything that is interesting. And the internet intimidates me anyway. Oh! I downloaded 'Southland Tales" it dawns on me. Apparently its crap, but its by Donnie Darko's director Richard Kelly so has to have something. But a committment to an entire film is too much at this point.
Option #3: A book. I don't read well. And the only books are from my childhood and things like "Bill Cosby: Time Flies"
Food- well this is a fail-safe. There is always food at my parents. I like eating there like I'm at a sampling soiree. A bit of Indian food, some bread, beans, crackers and 3 types of cheese, biscuits, mix of cereal, peanuts, chocolate, and pasta sauce on anything and all. So I gorge on that, wish I could make myself throw up and then convince myself it will all turn to muscle.
I realise I maybe should have gone out to the pub, a friend's house or at least a walk in an excitingly scary park.
So barely two hours into my night out staying in at my parents, I have to pop three sleeping pills and hope they work bloody fast.

Rating 2/10 (can vary depending on parents)