What's My Age Again?

Now that was an awesome party! Cheap drink, good music, nice food, best friends and a twister board; what more could anybody want for their birthday? A bit of a disappointment regarding the turnout, considering about half the people I invited didn’t show face – because of the night I picked – but I wasn’t bothered as it made me appreciate the effort everyone else went to and created a house party-esqué atmosphere, which was quality. I half remember my birthday speech but I’m going to stick down a few things I reckon have made me the person I am today.

Family; and as far as close family members go, I couldn’t really ask for a better set. Don’t know if I could ever re-pay my mum for all the hard work she put into single-handedly raising myself, and Amy, but she definitely deserves every good thing she gets and loads more for her efforts. My aforementioned Granda was a father to me and as I wrote before, taught me so many things that I’ll never forget. A real-life legend who is still missed and will never be forgotten. Amy’s just Amy and I wouldn’t have her any other way; so glad we’re well passed the fighting stage, if we got any closer than we are these days I’m pretty sure it’d be illegal - Gads. Finally, I’m so appreciative of having such a cool, chilled-out, and caring (step) Dad, the fact that I grew up without one makes me value everything much more.

Friends; again, I’ve been more than lucky with the people I’ve ended up spending my free time talking to, hanging out and getting drunk with. I could write an entire blog entry on almost every single one of my friends, but that’s pointless because all anybody needs to know is that no matter what situation I was in, or where I end up, I know there will always be somebody there to talk to. The two people that deserve a special mention are Sludge and Holly because we’re so alike in almost every sense that I know we’ll be a in this ‘friendship triangle’ (that’s the gayest thing I’ve ever posted) ‘til we’re six feet under.

Girls; even though I’ve only had a handful of girlfriends, and fewer serious relationships they have been amongst some of the most complex and tortuous connections I’ve had with other people. The things I’d change: I wish I wouldn’t have been such a dick to Jamie on multiple occasions; that Lucy would have given me more time; that Emma, Lorna and Jenni didn’t string me along; and that Alex could have left the drama at the door, keeping everything straight-forward.

Music; sounds pretty trivial but completely relates to the last three. Growing up with every genre of music, from Jazz through to Disco laid the foundations to my current broad taste. The biggest single influence was without a doubt was ‘Enema of the State’ simply because it is the perfect soundtrack to teenage life, not to mention it being full of fantastic songs. This saw the big jump from Indie to Punk, which got me into starting bands, going to gigs and subsequently meeting an entirely new set of people – if only I could find that English paper from 6th year I wrote about the album.

All in all, like everyone else my age, I could have ended up being a totally different person with opposite hobbies and friends. However, even though it’s interesting to think about ‘what could have been’ there’s not a single thing I’d change about my past or present life. From the shy loser in primary school and the easily led kid at secondary, roots are part of what makes you who you are today. I’ve never understood why some people wish to forget or lie about their roots; they're something you can’t change but most of all, something to be proud of!

Speaking of roots, as a conscience decision, I finally began the first steps towards shaving my hair. With the birthday clippers I set to work on my “hair don’t” that hasn’t changed much in a good ten years and I can’t say that it was an enjoyable experience. It’s also pretty lame when your pubes are longer than, and don't look as silly as, your actual hair! Personal reminder: never let your mum ‘tidy up the back of your head' with a razor, chunks galore.

Out Of Line, And Rarely Sober.

What a superb weekend, the sort that you could repeat week in, week out and never get bored of. Finished an essay on Friday then went to a 21st house party and had a quality time getting drunk and stoned within a relatively new circle of friends, which is always a good thing. On Saturday I wondered in to town with Crocker to get some sushi, play pool and watch some football. Then I nipped over to the Phlat and watched a film about some dude who grew a massive rotating drill for a penis with the guys.

Started the big night out in Private Eyes: my second ever strip-club experience after the Bulgarian jaunt over three years ago. For the first hour or so I wrestled with thoughts about why women would get their cannons and giblets out for such low sums of cash, but then started feeling too tipsy to care about the hidden motives behind the skilful art of grinding on a guys lap. As everybody else went in and out of booths I gazed in terror at the worlds fattest aspiring stripper, and after Andy failed to coax a dance out of her we all agreed to head to the next club; except from Sludge, who would have probably stayed there all night hadn’t everyone else left.

On our way to Five Sludge and Wilson were stopped by the police for “instigating a fight” (geez, somehow I don’t remember hearing about that charge before) and apprehended for a good 15 minutes to everyone else’s amusement. Nice job coppers, whilst you’re wasting time running background checks on two friends for toy fighting and searching them for any contraband some poor bugger’s being mugged or beaten up a few streets away. Assholes.

On our way to the concluding venue the police made another visit after Andy threw a bin in at Sludge, but they didn’t seem to care much this time. Finally, we all boarded the Tropicana train. Didn’t think I’d like it as much, but the club was amazing. We were easily the youngest people there, everybody was out for a good time, the Dj didn’t moan about cheesy requests – I touch myself et.al. – and as I lost track of time dancing I eventually realised that everybody else had disappeared. Didn’t bother me though because a bolognaise and pineapple pizza is more than adequate company for the walk home.

Moral of the story: there are other places in town yonder Belmont Street, and although you burn a little more money, the variation and standard of entertainment is well worth the extra tenner here and there.

Whilst the above sounds like one of those boring “I did this, then that” accounts of ones weekend I know it’ll bring back these entertaining memories time and time again upon re-reading it. Also, don’t think the standard’s dropping for long because to coincide with my 21st birthday the next pensive instalment will have a lot more meat to it. Please don’t ask me why I wrote this in an anecdotal and informative manner either.

A Not-So-Super Hero

The past few weeks are definately top contenders for the title of most lethargic and pointless of my life so far. I’ve completely lost focus on everything. Spent over 30 non-stop hours forcing out an essay that should have taken a single morning to complete, shattering my previous late night record of 6am an by a good 5 hours. Question: Why did it take so long? Answer: I have no idea.

The past weekend was also deplorable; drunk on Friday, can’t remember much of Saturday night and I even did my back in like an old fart on a floor. Had to force out some puke at work - Wilma Style - on Sunday to rid my body of all the crap and stop the shaking. My room’s a mess and I’ve got absolutely nothing else to write about.

“Damn! I’m turning into one of the very motherfuckers I can’t stand”