Tuesday, December 26, 2006

Pride comes before a....

....Thrashing.

After the fun and awesome-ness of last week, things have gone significantly downhill.

Christmas is not my favourite time of year as some of you already know, but Boxing day has brought with it a change of mood as well - I'm pretty much heartbroken.

It's not as bad as it sounds, I'm sure. It'll take a few days to get over it, then we'll see how I fare after that. I'm off to console myself with some turkey sandwiches and a relapse into my twenty-a-day tea habit.

Hope you're having a great one.

Friday, December 22, 2006

Sherry Christmas

This should technically be on the drunken bl*g, but....

I am a fucking legend.

Went to a party last night,

Had a fuckin wicked time. And that's about it.

xxxxx


ps. A girl asked me out on a date, I said that it would probably be pretty shit. She said that she's been on a few shit dates recently so that's fine. I promised to make it a really shit date, she kissed me and gave me her number. Is this good...?

x

pps That's not why I'm a legend.

ppps I'm tired now.

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

Time to Waste

Looking back on last weeks “I’m not as happy as I thought I was” post, I had identified that I was in fact, pretty ill. I had spent the entire week running on empty, every evening after work I had collapsed into bed. I sacrificed evening meals in return for sleep, along with a couple of lunch breaks. Saturday, I still felt pretty awful but a nice half-day lie-in seemed to sort me out just fine. I managed to shove my troubles to the back of my mind by watching the (amazing) rugby on Saturday with a couple of mates, there was a grand total of five people in the bar but we made enough noise for about seven.

I’d still not done a single bit of Christmas shopping so I took Monday off work to take a wander around town. This, in principle, was a great idea. In actual fact, what it did was to release Sunday night as a viable night for staying up late. A few of us headed down to Clwb for the Meltdown Christmas Cake - A number of musical genres and acts spread out over the three floors providing people with some great entertainment. We managed to catch about five acts in total, none particularly made me jump out of my seat – but one stood out head and shoulders above the rest, a young lad named Beatbox Fozzy. The place went wild for him, what an amazing talent!

Monday morning was of course spent in bed, before reluctantly dragging ourselves into the city centre for a bit of retail action. Bledd and Myself were bored shitless within half an hour of meandering around town so decided to amuse ourselves by looking at all the lush TV’s that we couldn’t afford, then heading to the pub. I didn’t buy a single Christmas present.

I also managed to see a whole bunch of films (a few years/months behind everyone else) – the new Jimmy Bond was really good fun, but I didn’t understand the ending. Buffalo Soldiers is hilarious. Eternal Sunshine… is an excellent film. Starship Troopers gets funnier every time. Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade is an absolute classic, I love it.

Oh, and the secret behind the new Domino’s ‘Level 3’ hot pizza? (UK dwellers - You’ve seen the shit advert) … Shedloads of mustard - and it’s not even that hot, it’s pretty tasteless really.

The social side of things in Cardiff has slipped dramatically since the end of the University term, pubs have emptied and clubs have died. There’ll be a brief peak this Friday (Black Friday), Saturday and NYE no doubt – then it’ll be back to business again in January sometime. I should be heading back to the hills on the weekend, with the holidays devoid of any plans whatsoever.

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

You make me sick, you make me tick.

I was once a boy that was always polite, courteous, punctual, always did my homework on time, was quiet and enjoyed spending hours on my own playing computer games or reading books. I had a very small group of friends that I very rarely saw outside of school. All of that changed when my friend, David, invited me to go out to the pub in the nearest town at the grand old age of fourteen.

We dressed up in our smartest gear, attempting to look older, then wandered (almost skipping with excitement) to the only place that we knew we could get served alcohol. The only experience I'd previously had with alcohol was stealing a can or two from mates parents or just sipping Dad's beer or Mam's port when we went for a meal. We walked confidently into the bar but I was shaking all over with nerves. What if we get caught and the police get involved? I thought to myself. David assured me that he had done this before and kept telling me that it was fine. Luckily, one of our friend's older brothers was serving behind the bar - I stood on tip toes, deepened my voice and ordered my very first illegal pint of cider. I think I managed about four pints that night. I danced, talked, hi-fived people and generally had a riot of a time. It took all of about two hours to get as drunk as I'd ever been in my life and then later on, throw up for the very first time after alcohol. The next day, I repeated over and over, "I'm never drinking again".

Little did I know, that sentence would become such a big part of my life.

It's now ten years on from that day, only on Monday did I say to myself "I'm not ever drinking again". Until sixteen, I tried my best to regularly get into town on a Saturday night. Most people in my year-group were going out once or twice a week by the time we were seventeen, but it wasn't until I left home at nineteen that I hit the beer at the pace I'm now used to.

As much as beer makes me act like a tit, fall over and talk rubbish - I still carry on, it's probably been the most influential thing in my life, it made me come out of myself. I could talk to people (talk to girls), voice my opinions, made countless friends, met some brilliant people and most of all, it made me laugh more than I ever thought I possibly could. This didn't just affect me when I was drinking, though - those traits finally crept over into my normal life.

Several times in my life, I thought that I was growing up and was finally through to the 'other side' of that phase - but each time I just lapsed back into it again, sometimes harder than before. The truth is, I know very few people outside of the 'drinking' world - avoiding the pub and my friends does wonders for my health and my working life but absolutely nothing for my social or sexual well-being. Yeah, you heard right - I've never so much as kissed a girl without there being a certain volume of alcohol inside me*, this is the one that's bugging me at the moment. A recent comment made by a mate just made something click inside me and I thought, isn't it time that I started being 100% confident about sex, relationships and my life without Carling or raspberry flavoured tequila? There are some wonderful girls in my life at the moment, but I just don't know how to go about doing anything with a belly-full of peppermint tea, rather than a head-full of vodka. I'm sitting here, wondering if I can be like that - I'm doubting that I can, but that's because I haven't touched a beer for three days and I'm not feeling bullish enough.



*Apart from once when I was 9, but that's for another time - if you're lucky.

Monday, December 11, 2006

Countdown

Five cups of tea consumed already this morning.

Four nights out in a row.

Three girls confessing their love for me.

Two bl*ggers that put up with me while I was probably the most drunk I’ve been for months. (Thanks both of you, Mair & Geraint)

One massively bruised shoulder (perhaps from falling, bruise also on head)

Half of my body trying to shut down completely.

Quarter of an hour - the amount of time it took to brush my teeth this morning.

Friday, December 08, 2006

You love it.

Observations from London.

I'm so childish.


I don't get it.

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

Illinois

Thanks to the evil forces of Last.Fm and Afe teaming up, I’ve been listening to a lot of Sufjan Stevens recently. I didn’t have a clue who this Sufjan chap was, but noticed that Afe had been listening to him rather a lot. I acquired a few albums, started listening to them at home and as a result I’ve been amazingly relaxed for the last week or so.

I first noticed how relaxed I was after I’d stood on a squirty stone* during a heavy downpour, I just laughed at it before strutting off along the street again. Usually a squirty stone would be subject to a little bit of verbal abuse before I leave it to lie in wait for another victim.

Christmas shoppers usually wind me up no-end, but I’ve been walking at the same (slow) pace as them and they don’t seem to bother me. I’m not rushed, not concerned about what the weather is doing and not concerned with people that usually get to me (I even took part in some market research on the street the other day, about mobile phones – I know nothing of mobiles and I don’t watch tv or listen to commercial radio, I was the worst person to interview but I enjoyed pissing the guy off).

My mood is greatly affected by the music I’m listening to, but my stereo at home is now broken so I’m stuck with the radio back there. As I can now only listen to my own tunes at work, my work-mood is affected most of all. Sufjan Stevens will not help you with productivity, I've found.



* Pavement slab prevalent in Cardiff. They only appear after it’s been raining, they are un-even slabs which collect water underneath them until stepped on, when they release a jet of water and mud all over your shoe/jeans. Given the right amount of pressure, the mud-jet can reach about 3ft into the air.

Monday, December 04, 2006

Another Cracker

I am thoroughly amazed at how good the last few weekends have been, there hasn't always been alcohol involved in the goodness, but it's contributed to a fair amount.

This weekend didn't let the side down (if days have sides) by any means. Saturday was the bl*gmeet that Huw had kindly organised. I got home early from work Friday to make a nice meal and go to bed early to ensure that I was at my very best for meeting a bunch of strangers. A quick phonecall from Bledd changed my plans completely, I wolfed down a honey sandwich, chased it with a XXXX (that sounds slightly pervy...) and bolted out the door to get down to the pub. Gaz, Bledd and Dave arrived soon afterwards and we sat laughing and drinking for a while. A bout of responsibility rushed over me and I stated "I've really got to get back home, I'm going to London tomorrow", to which Gaz responded "What the HELL has happened to you?" - I of course stayed out being as I am, weak willed. We marched into town and there was a lot of Rasberry flavour Sambucca until about 1:30am, when I wobbled home.

I certainly felt it on Saturday. I was in a very sweary mood - not angry you understand - but I just like swearing a lot sometimes. The train seemed to take forever and I arrived in London just in time to miss most of the Scarlets game, the boyos played a pathetic one it turned out so I wasn't too fussed about that in the end. After a couple of Booms I felt my small reserve of energy rapidly depleting and struggled to keep my eyes open. I announced to Sud that I wasn't going to be much fun tonight, but Sud, being the great pal he is, backed me and thrust another beer into my hand. I hauled myself off the chair and headed out to the people-circus that was Oxford Circus.

Oxford Street was jam packed solid with people and buses, part (and parcel) of Christmas shopping. There were tens of wardens armed with megaphones holding people back and ensuring that everyone crossed the road at the right time, but generally just bossing people around. We somehow managed to locate Huw and Astrid in the throng then headed off to find some food. We stumbled upon a nice little Italian place, proceeded to stuff ourselves and drink a little bit more. After the meal we were offered a taste of Italian vodka on the house, I considered the offer but my mind was made up when Sud almost lept out of his chair with excitement at the prospect. One (melon flavoured, which continued to repeat on me throughout the night) vodka later and we were in fine fettle and continued on to meet the rest of the bl*ggers.

Léonie, Monica and Will joined in the fun, which was rapidly turning into a 'see who can finish their drink first' night. It was a highly amusing evening and I was reduced to tears of laughter on more than a couple of occasions. Everyone was just brilliant (I'm not just saying that because they can all read this on the interweb) , Monica - who had claimed to be in bad mood, didn't seem to have such a bad time either. We discussed the merits of hookers carrying A-Z streetmaps, were amazed at Monicas ability to spell 'blood' using her fingers and we complained about Melon-flavoured burps. There was one pretty funny moment where I brought the table to silence by mentioning the word 'Bl*g' whilst talking to Will, I quickly changed the subject again and everyone carried on as normal... phew! After reaching a level of drunken-ness labelled 'charging', we headed to a club named 'Thirst' - apt. It was pretty rammed and the music was pretty shitty but that was soon forgotten, as was the £5 entry for the pleasure of being there. Things got hazy from that point onwards, Will disappeared and I started flaking. At some point in the early hours we caught the bus back to Huws to finally sleep. Lovely.

Sunday brought with it an even better hangover than saturday but that was temporoarily remedied by a meal in the Agriculture near Angel tube. We watched Astrid try her first hot toddy, listed our top three favourite vegetables (Mine were something along the lines of Potato, Lettuce and sweetcorn - but I'd forgotten that I actually loved Avocado) and I asked Huw to re-tell some stories as I'd been too drunk to listen the night before. Getting up and travelling to the train station to get home again was a struggle, my abused body not keen to do anything but melt into a pile of useless-ness. Astrid entertained me until she had to alight at her stop, and for the rest of the journey I was left alone, tortured as I couldn't get a single bit of sleep - that was all I needed to do.

I got home at about 7pm and almost immediately received another phonecall from Bledd.... "Mate, we're going down the pub..."

I feel surprisingly okay today. There are pictures. I will put them up soon.

*Great - the pictures have arrived, marvel at them here*