One Big Wedding

What a cool weekend!

Got the train over to Byfleet on Friday morning at 0923, Gordon taxied me back to the Poole residence, then we packed the car and set off about 0945

(N.B. This blog entry ended sometime yesterday afternoon)

Now feeling much more spritely

Helped along by the fact that I've sorted out (I think) my expenses for Sac Peak, UKSP and got my registration and pre-payment request in for COSPAR (Saturday's the registration deadline, but I'm off to Chris's wedding tomorrow).

So, all that being dealt with, it remains only to go back to the Guildford (scene of this morning's greasy fry-up breakfast) to pick up my trousers, get an appropriate shirt, and get my haircut, although not necessarily in that order.

Next post on Monday, then!

eurghh....

I've got the abstract hangover that always comes after a night on stella.

Neilo was down, so the first time fer a chat since One Big No happened. C*nts is the phrase of the month. But the craic was ninety — at least, what I can remember of it was. Poor Ben II had to deal with a drunken dave. (Not quite Other Dave, though. He's not been seen for some time.)

Of course, in the maelstrom of the workload last week, the blog was largely neglected, and updated in a very fragmentary fashion.

One think, though, stood out from the rest of the events as actually of weight. An e-mail, from Neilo, on Friday 7th. I exhaled audibly when I read this:

"The end is nigh..."


Hard to believe. As I said in one text over the weekend, he's been at the station in one capacity or another since before I even contemplating becoming a "Dr". His response:

    "Exactly. That's why i
    have to g aS much as i
    Don't want to"

Woomph... So that's a stag do, then.

Order of the weekend was:

• Meeting up at hotel near Saafhampton. Ben got lost and ran a bit late, so he met us at
  the place. I can highly recommend go-karting ("for fun"). Even though there were lots of karting geeks there who clearly went every weekend, we had a great time, and the nice man even gave our stag the winner's medal and associated bottle of champagne (well, sparkling perry, but close enough for podium purposes).
  
  
• Ben had to leave to get back to his school books for today's GR, which meant the rest of us returning to the perfectly comfortable Holiday Inn Express = splash water on face and get changed into something vaguely respectable. So, time for a drink in the bar with Chris before heading to...
  
  
• the comedy club in Saafhampton itself. A very funny night. There was dancing. There were random photos. There were lots of ladies' arses in photos. Chris managed to retain command of his speech (if not his thinking), but not his motor functions, so ended up like a puppet with some slack strings. Once I'd managed to keep him in one place (restraining as well as restraint was employed), carrying was required to get him back to the hotel (via the convenient kebab house fornenst the comedy club), which was fun.
  
  
• what felt the world's LONGEST wait for a taxi. I thought Nottingham had been bad, but this was nuts. We must've been there for well over an hour, in the not-too-warm coastal night. But my celtic jeans came out to play, so I managed to survive. Plus Rob was also jacketless and I wasn't going to be the wuss. Then, though, with a massive stroke of luck, a big van-style taxi turned up when it was our turn in the queue. I'd like to be able to apologise if we nicked someone else's big taxi (don't think we did, but just in case), but by the time you've been waiting outside, that drunk, that cold, and that replenished by kebab, you'll do anything to get back to the cave.
  
  
• Returning to the hotel, Chris decided to phone the Best Woman's bloke, who thought he sounded coherent. I can only guess that being South African must've had something to do with it. On arrival, we accidentally left the effectively legless Chris to the vicious grip of gravity before the Best Woman had to go back and help him fall forwards into the hotel reception. We got him back to his room (somehow -- this is a little hazy, frankly) then I realised what a good idea it would be to flip Chris's mattress over (only if he was on it obviously). Then we were made leave. Then the key was sitting in the "Make Electricity Go Now!" socket, and someone removed it — not saying it was me — and then ran down the corridor. The wrong way, then back to the lift and thence bed.
  
  
• TV on in room, some strange movie on 5 where stuff kept happening, with no apparent point. It just kept getting more and more confusing and scary. No dialogue was happening, more flames, chimneys apparently involved.... turned out it was Spawn, the movie.
  
  
• Waking. Hangover happened between 0830 and 0915 when I got out of the shower. Then everything was fine, and while RobOffOfTheStagDo went to get drowned awake, I rang himself:
  
  
  
  • "Hello!"
    
  • "Fuck off."
    
  • "How's the head?"
    
  • "I feel fantastic. I've never felt better..."
    
  
  It was at this point that I suspected he may not be telling the truth.
  
  Turns out I was right...
  
  
• Post-packing, meself and RobOffOfTheStagDo wend our way up to Chris's rheum. The Best Woman opens the door, smiling. Chris, it turns out, is not smiling. He is nearly dead from Tequila and all the other shite that we fed into his system during the night out.
  
  
• We depart, minus one Chris, for breakfast. Disappointingly, there is no fried food on the go, so cereal & coffee do the job.
  
  
• I manage to rouse Chris B from the pit by EvilPhone. I know it was an EvilPhone because both Chrises reacted with the same colour of language to its ringing. I was the one doing the ringing, so I didn't care. Chris B joined us in the departure lounge while we waited for the Best Woman to burp Chris and get him ready for the outside world. After a suitable fag-break for Rob, we re-wended our way up there, and found him a new man, about to have tea in hand.
  
  
• A bit of a search around in the car park with every map we had, and Chris B got the idea to go pitch'n'putting. Not something I'd ever done myself, but outside = fresh air = goodness = anti-hangover. So we eventually found it, and then proceeded to split into two groups: those who could reach the green, and those who could not. There is a tale involving a manhole cover, but I'm not going to go into that one right now. Maybe next century... Chris, however, visibly recovered between holes 1 and 6, going from being unable to actually see the ball, to hitting it a good whack onto the green for most of the remaining dozen holes.
  
  
• After an ice cream and a return to the Best Woman's car, we drove back to the hotel for a slash and thence the final part of the Stag Weekend itself: dinner. Nothing like eating in style, so we went to a Harvester. First time I've ever been in one. I didn't care. They cooked dead animal, and I was hungry. This is where I learnt that the Best Woman's bloke thought Chris had sounded fine. The groom-to-be even managed to keep down his dinner, which I thought was seriously impressive, given that his eyes still stung from the earlier tequila rejection process.
  
  

Mr Paul (no e-mail surname) has done some photos which, for some reason, my machine can't access. Think my proxy settings must be knackered, or — unbelievably — the lab network might be fucking around.

Right, I'm off. Chris' stag do tomorrow starting from a secret location.

Here's hoping it's the top level of craic, no-one dies or is permanently injured, and that I don't lose the disposable camera I'll be buying!

Reports on Monday....

I wouldn't even like to guess how much sleep I've had in the last three nights.

• Tuesday: traditional early drunken waking, with a less traditional attempt at making breakfast while still a little cut. This consisted of combining muesli with the two small pots of citrus fruit yoghurt left in the fridge (no milk). This was taken back to bed in an attempt to ease myself into the situation in which I found myself. It was followed, post-shower, by scrambled egg (no bread = no 'on toast'). I was going for all the "goodness" I could cram into my cripped system in the hope it would all cancel out and I'd feel fine. See yesterday's account of Tuesday for what followed...
  
• Wednesday: waking up unexpectedly and completely at 05:41. No idea why. Felt like something really bad was about to happen, heart-rate on the high side... Tried all the usual tricks of getting back to sleep (closing eyes, closing curtains, turning off light, hiding under duvet, hiding under duvet in the foetal position). With the usual success. At about ten-to-seven I gave in and got ready for work...
  
• Today: I'd arranged with the Tall Chap to go swimming this morning, so when the alarm went off at 06:01, I dozed until the second alarm. Then turned on Nemone. Then sat and glowered at the alarm clock for twenty minutes before finally admitting that I had to get up. Consoled myself with the highly unlikely idea of coming back home post-swimming to go to bed for another hour. However, I got in here early, so I get the chance to try out the stuff that's been keeping me working late the last two nights.
  

So, in summary, I need to take it easy for the next two nights, as it's Chris' stag do this Saturday & Sunday, and I don't want to pass out fer that, now do I? :o)

Yesterday was not a day with a happy face.

At one point, I actually thought I might die... Why? I've had week-long drinking before which hasn't been followed by death scares!!

Note the time-stamp on this, too. I've been in for the last 15 minutes because I woke up at 5:41 am! Feeling a little rubbish, because I thought my pulse felt a bit strange. Might finally go and see a real doctor...

Really odd to be in before Sarah, Len and Tracey. Fire extinguisher course at 10:30 means (or it had better mean) letting off fire extinguishers in a controlled fashion. Heh heh :o)

[Quick edit for a postscipt: it was all Hazel's fault. She suggested a drinking day on Monday. Which was fine. I suggested the local to start off in, and then we couldn't get people to move, because of the Drinking Rules. �2.85 for a pint of Genius? Fvck off!

Had a great time, though -- hahaa!]