Monday, 19 February 2007

As Time Goes By...

What a mixed weekend I've had. I woke up on Friday and had what was quite possibly the longest ever day at work, so you can imagine my surprise when 5pm can about and I finally got to go home. Alex was working till 11, so we had planned to go out for a few drinks.
I was trotting round Asda in my usual style, Basket hanging off my arm in a way that would even make Julie Andrews wish she had a little more grace. Chatting away to my mum and my sister in law about Touch Down and a few projects that are on the horizon, But I can't even begin to explain how sick I felt when my mum said that she needed to tell me something, but she physically couldn't do it, so she passed the phone to Diane.
"Ronnie's in court, he's being charged with Murder."
I felt sick, thank god I was in the spirit isle.
A brawl, that started in a bar, and ended outside on the street, happening over a year ago, I knew that the other guy was hospitalised and I even knew that he was in a coma. But that was a year ago, and I hadn't given it much thought. But last week, tragically, he died.
Ronnie had already been charged with assault with regards to this, but I don't think anyone expected this.
Eyes filling up and loosing my grip on my basket, which now housed a bottle rum and coke. I quickly hit the check out and left.

I walked back home, and my head was all over the place, strange, but I had so many thoughts rushing through my mind, but I can't even begin to recall any of them. Even at the time, being able to grab onto one thought and analyse it just didn't even seem like a possibility.


Do you know what I like about rum and coke?

It gets you fucked.

I got to the hostel and Alex and I stared drinking like it was our last day of freedom. After Alex, gleefully tried to help a guy who had got locked out of his room, the actual lock had broken and he had no shoes "Alex, stop taking your job so seriously" I declared in my drunken state and insisted that he, I, Marcus and Paul headed to the nearest bar.

The problem is whenever people feel low (people like me) they automatically head for a spliff or to some alcoholic beverage of some kind. Now, a spliff would have just knocked me out. but I quit that (for fuck sake..) and so the rum was my new Friend. But feeling like shite and gradually growing more and more drunk. I just felt sooo shite. Sitting in company bar at 4am, I found myself staring at the floor trying to hold on to one of the many thoughts rushing though my head, comforted by Alex, we went back to the hostel and I grabbed a bite to eat before systematically passing out on the couch, before being woken up at 6am by Paul, who had just returned from the bar. I went to my bed, which I wisely booked myself into earlier that evening, where on route I discovered someone had drew a cock on Alex's face. Nice.

The sun rose on Saturday morning, and it felt like a blade slicing open my eye. I fell out of bed and took the 30 second journey to Barbarella, to finally get my haircut.
So, 14 months after the last time I had the chop, the hairdresser went to work. It's a cross between Harry Potter and Barbara Windsor. I'll attach a pic soon. All I can say is my neck feels cold.

Kissing to Casablanca

One of my all time favourite movies was playing at the cornerhouse this weekend, and since it's the perfect date movie, I asked Robin if he wanted to come with me, so we went for a few drinks and chatted until literally minutes before the film began, so we downed our pints and headed to the cinema.
After snogging during the movie, when we went to the toilet, and after the movie, lets just say we had a cool day. Was a nice contrast to how the weekend began.

So, after all this time, Am I dating someone?

we'll have to find out as time goes by....

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