became an oft-used quote over the weekend.
The following is a sort of summary of what I can remember.
Two work-jaded Irish eejits, Jumper & Fletch on Friday in the Gabbot, then the White House (poor Hazel) to meet up with their housemates, then repairing to the house to drink.
Much beer consumed.
Saturday morning, Neil delivers beer to me and the drinking starts at 8:30 am. Hard to beat. Oh, and it turns out that Neilo has invited the ex-gf</very old abbreviation> up to Surrey in his drunken haze of the previous night. Which was actually all fine, as the craic was very good.
Already a little drunk, I book the bowling alley for noon at about 10:30. Taxi journey over, horrified to learn that the bar was closed (thereby defeating half the purpose of playing), but we soldiered on. Badly. Not a finest hour for the ten-pinned game, there. Thence back into town, this time to the Weyside. A quick phonecall to the TUP reveals that they can indeed show the Northern Ireland game. YaHO! The Noise of Win! So we head up there as I'm giving directions to a slightly bemused Emma for the Park and Ride. Poor woman... At the TUP, it seems that the French barman is prepared to put absolutely anything on the TV for us. Unfortunately, he couldn't find the channel where Northern Ireland were actually winning, as we ended up seeing them crushed 3-0 by the Poles. In the middle of all this, herself arrives and I end up on the phone to Lord</not that kind> Ben, who — in hi — s words — is off to Nerdsville soon and was packing for the "added indignity" of the summer school in Leicester first. Very funny...
After this, things begin to go slightly downhill. Having argued for the past 24 hours about the various merits of TGI Fridays, I decided that we should resolve the situation by actually eating there. With the waitress who takes over half-way through the meal and looks like Boy George. Is that an insult? I don't know... And suddenly there are cocktails involved. FBI, then something else with Midori in it. Both very nice, don't get me wrong, but I think they contributed to the monumental (and temporary — how handy!) hangover of Sunday morning. And this is where it gets especially fuzzy... I think it was on Saturday Hazel (off of the White House shift) and Fraser join us in the house for much beer. But I can't be sure. AH! No, it must've been, because I ended up passing out (characteristically) on the floor in front of the sofa (uncharacteristically), waking at 6am on Sunday, and realising that none of the four other people who had formerly been in the room with me were still in the room with me. Genius. The TV was blaring away, of course. I just went up to my bed with a pint of water and fell straight to sleep.
Neilo and herself slept right through the daily 8 o'clock apocalypse, as did I. The morning is a slightly hazy recollection, it being the second hangover on the trot. This was rectumfied with some of the Kronenbourg that was bought the previous evening in the Unwins, on the way back home from the TGI's, via herself's car. Anyway, we're sat there, with the two eejits back on the beer and Neil's lady very wisely sticking to tea, as she'd to drive later on, watching Allo Allo, and Neilo and meself are nearly wetting ourselves at what — at the time — appeared to be the cleverest and funniest jokes ever written!
Needing some sort of sustenance drove us up the hill to the Three Pigeons</unattended>, home of the Breakfast Bap — a truly great invention. Couldn't quite finish it, but we stayed for a little while afterwards with the Sunday tabloids. Thence to the White House so we could sit outside. And that was where the changing of the guard happened. DrAbi came down the hill for a wee rattle and briefly overlapped with the weekend visitors, before Neilo and Emma made their excuses and left for the Big Shmoke.
So DrAbi and I decided to head for the Brit and enjoy some beer and pool. Made plans to go to Spanish lessons, and to possibly holiday in Madeira. We couldn't get a game of pool, as all the tables (particularly the outside one behind us) were all taken up. So we went back to the much-feared Asolat for a game, then drinks outside. And a lot of soul-bearing chat on my part. A little bit too much, I think, because I was by now a) drunk and b) tired, which sometimes leads to c) being morose. And DrAbi had to wrench the conversation away from the very private direction it had had in the pub to other things when H&F arrived in the house for more drinks. Don't remember anything past a brief image of drinking in the house with them again.
This morning was very, very painful. Slept in, but managed to get my order for dinner placed with Herself (not to be confused with the ex-gf), and spent a large portion of the early afternoon trying not to be sick.
Now it's hometime. Thanks.
Monday, 6 September 2004
Tuesday, 10 August 2004
It's been a month...
Since the last draft was published. And a hell of an emotional one.
The big trip home turned ? spontaneously, it felt like ? into a major turn in life. I didn't think it'd quite go like it did, which was amazingly. I feel like I know the people in my life who I was close to ten times better than before. And although Mum & Dad will worry (even though I asked them not to), I think relations with the family will be easier than before. I'd spent the last few Christmas, Easter and other holidays home feeling like I needed to distance myself from them, rather than open up and be frank. I just couldn't bring myself to drop this particular emotional anvil on them.
And then circumstances made the way easier, I think, with Dad's general unwellness giving him a calmer nature, and it certainly has helped him to come to terms with the fact of the matter.
The three weeks in between leaving Belfast and telling Abi (it was important for me to start the process with telling her, even though she said she wouldn't have been pissed off if she'd found out other than face-to-face) were really shit. some of the most gut-wrenching weeks of my life. I left wanting to cling onto the flagstones outside Ryans. Gerry and James had made the whole process not just painless, but actually uplifting. And telling Niall, Colin, Carrie and Cathy was a priority. Almost as much as telling Peter, whose reaction in the Clontarf Court was hilariously out-of-step with everyone else's general surprise "I know". Unable to smoke cigars in Connolly's Sheds. Life-changing moment meets D&aacute;il �ireann legislation... Ha ha!
Anyway, I arrived back in England with literally no-one over here having a clue (with the possible exception of Peter, Sarah & Kieran and/or Catherine), and unable to sit down and talk with anyone because I was in a panic about preparing for COSPAR. I couldn't possibly resent the 9 days I'd had at home. Thinking back, that was probably one of the best weeks of my life. Up there with the week before I left. Then the massive emotional swing to the isolation of working all the meagre hours that were free. Ali started, and I had to take him shopping on the Monday with nearly no warning, and get him moved in. Then spend Tuesday getting him started. Our new postdoc position's interview was on the Wednesday, and then I had Thursday and Friday to get ready for a talk for which the results hadn't yet been measured. I never want to be that stressed, and have that much going on in my head, ever again. Life was not only not normal, it was just unpleasant. Not easy to be that cooped up inside this head sometimes.
Then, when I got back, Abi went off to Marseille. I was out with Fletch & Fluff on the Tuesday (just nice to get back to living in the town I live in), and with Jumper and FraserOffOfHazel on the Friday after. That got a bit dodgy at times, as I refused to not invest in any more bullshit. (I was already bored of doing that when Sharon asked me back in May.)
Last Monday, Ben called round post-'Spoons. Was a cool night, although we did end up finishing drinking after 4am. And pulling out the sofa bed for the big man. Nearly said something that night, but he might've been a bit freaked out after that much booze, and I promised not to tell anyone, least of all Abi, drunk (either me or the recipient).
So the next night: in the end, Abi's reaction was great. Like I said, she wouldn't have been annoyed if I'd told others before her, or she'd even found out indirectly, and some of her first thoughts were "is there anything I can do to help?" (fantastic) and feeling bad for how long it must've been pressing on me (a bit like Mum). I may hold her to the making cups of tea for me if I'm in bad mood offer...
The big trip home turned ? spontaneously, it felt like ? into a major turn in life. I didn't think it'd quite go like it did, which was amazingly. I feel like I know the people in my life who I was close to ten times better than before. And although Mum & Dad will worry (even though I asked them not to), I think relations with the family will be easier than before. I'd spent the last few Christmas, Easter and other holidays home feeling like I needed to distance myself from them, rather than open up and be frank. I just couldn't bring myself to drop this particular emotional anvil on them.
And then circumstances made the way easier, I think, with Dad's general unwellness giving him a calmer nature, and it certainly has helped him to come to terms with the fact of the matter.
The three weeks in between leaving Belfast and telling Abi (it was important for me to start the process with telling her, even though she said she wouldn't have been pissed off if she'd found out other than face-to-face) were really shit. some of the most gut-wrenching weeks of my life. I left wanting to cling onto the flagstones outside Ryans. Gerry and James had made the whole process not just painless, but actually uplifting. And telling Niall, Colin, Carrie and Cathy was a priority. Almost as much as telling Peter, whose reaction in the Clontarf Court was hilariously out-of-step with everyone else's general surprise "I know". Unable to smoke cigars in Connolly's Sheds. Life-changing moment meets D&aacute;il �ireann legislation... Ha ha!
Anyway, I arrived back in England with literally no-one over here having a clue (with the possible exception of Peter, Sarah & Kieran and/or Catherine), and unable to sit down and talk with anyone because I was in a panic about preparing for COSPAR. I couldn't possibly resent the 9 days I'd had at home. Thinking back, that was probably one of the best weeks of my life. Up there with the week before I left. Then the massive emotional swing to the isolation of working all the meagre hours that were free. Ali started, and I had to take him shopping on the Monday with nearly no warning, and get him moved in. Then spend Tuesday getting him started. Our new postdoc position's interview was on the Wednesday, and then I had Thursday and Friday to get ready for a talk for which the results hadn't yet been measured. I never want to be that stressed, and have that much going on in my head, ever again. Life was not only not normal, it was just unpleasant. Not easy to be that cooped up inside this head sometimes.
Then, when I got back, Abi went off to Marseille. I was out with Fletch & Fluff on the Tuesday (just nice to get back to living in the town I live in), and with Jumper and FraserOffOfHazel on the Friday after. That got a bit dodgy at times, as I refused to not invest in any more bullshit. (I was already bored of doing that when Sharon asked me back in May.)
Last Monday, Ben called round post-'Spoons. Was a cool night, although we did end up finishing drinking after 4am. And pulling out the sofa bed for the big man. Nearly said something that night, but he might've been a bit freaked out after that much booze, and I promised not to tell anyone, least of all Abi, drunk (either me or the recipient).
So the next night: in the end, Abi's reaction was great. Like I said, she wouldn't have been annoyed if I'd told others before her, or she'd even found out indirectly, and some of her first thoughts were "is there anything I can do to help?" (fantastic) and feeling bad for how long it must've been pressing on me (a bit like Mum). I may hold her to the making cups of tea for me if I'm in bad mood offer...
Sunday, 4 July 2004
Some day, that!
Went even better than I'd hoped. The second family part comes next weekend. Just wasn't a good idea today with an "outsider" at the table :o)
Best parents ever.
Best parents ever.
Friday, 2 July 2004
Somehow, I'm going home tomorrow
I don't fully understand why, but I am.
Basically it's a work-funded trip, and I'll get to do a couple of things I want to do like Dublin and the Ganch's, Carrie's (& Cathy's?) graduation. Plus I'll get to see the family and catch up with whoever else is around. Dunno if I'll ever get to see Eoin again, but I hope that bridge isn't burnt through lack of use...
Can't quite organise in my head what needs to be done. So I thought I'd plan a few pre-trip drinks tonight with the usual suspects.
That'll make it all better.
Also have a picture from visiting Dr Buxey last year in Nottingham. Completely unseasonal, but quite good for a phone camera at the time, I thought.
That used to be a church you know</disco>
Basically it's a work-funded trip, and I'll get to do a couple of things I want to do like Dublin and the Ganch's, Carrie's (& Cathy's?) graduation. Plus I'll get to see the family and catch up with whoever else is around. Dunno if I'll ever get to see Eoin again, but I hope that bridge isn't burnt through lack of use...
Can't quite organise in my head what needs to be done. So I thought I'd plan a few pre-trip drinks tonight with the usual suspects.
That'll make it all better.
Also have a picture from visiting Dr Buxey last year in Nottingham. Completely unseasonal, but quite good for a phone camera at the time, I thought.
That used to be a church you know</disco>
Tuesday, 29 June 2004
Broken weeks
D'you know what... and I said this to NewBen on Friday night, or on Saturday night, after he'd very kindly — and perhaps drunkenly — come round with my Snow Patrol CD before pissing off to Greece... Ever since the Venus Transit, things have rattled along in a rather off-the-rails fashion, more-or-less constantly. Not that it hasn't been very enjoyable. But it can all be traced back to that day — that evening, in fact.
Culminating with Fraser doing his stand-up on Saturday night. Fair play to him, but it was really hard to watch...
This week is going to be sober: FACT. But it's back to Belfast next week, and that's only going to bring a world of drunkenness. And The Big Dub has planned a day and night in Dublin. The next day will be painful. Also FACT.
Must get my arse in gear and get this talk ready fer Paris, too, otherwise professional death awaits. Sounds melodramatic, I know, but that's how it feels in my head. And this orifice needs to be a bit calmer now.
Portugal v Holland semi-final tomorrow night, too. On pay-day. Very unwise...
Culminating with Fraser doing his stand-up on Saturday night. Fair play to him, but it was really hard to watch...
This week is going to be sober: FACT. But it's back to Belfast next week, and that's only going to bring a world of drunkenness. And The Big Dub has planned a day and night in Dublin. The next day will be painful. Also FACT.
Must get my arse in gear and get this talk ready fer Paris, too, otherwise professional death awaits. Sounds melodramatic, I know, but that's how it feels in my head. And this orifice needs to be a bit calmer now.
Portugal v Holland semi-final tomorrow night, too. On pay-day. Very unwise...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
