Pix can't party

One of the necessities of moving to a new town, admittedly a new old town, is to make an effort to establish new social networks. Actually, new networks in general. And one of the consequences of that, for me at least in recent times, is the common hangover. Actually, I have had two in the last 3 weeks that were in no way common. I would say acute. I would say debilitating. As in down on your hands and knees, eyes streaming, puking blood. And the worst part is after i did it 3 weekends ago, after a night with my new ICU nurse friend drinking monstrous concoctions of paint stripper and cream, I swore that I was too old for it and I was done with alcohol. Curled tightly in the foetal position unable to move my mini sister brought the phone in to me, it was the nurse, wanting to know if i wanted to go for a walk along the beach. And I realised I had to admit defeat, my slight physique had bested me, I could no longer claim the title of Boozey that I had defended so admirably (with copious quantities of tequila) in my younger years...

But then this Friday, I realised the three week trial has taken its toll. The trial is a beast that seesaws between mind numbingly, head noddingly dull to intensely complex and emotionally and mentally challenging. And my boss told me and our secretary to go home early on Friday. And the secretary offered to bring me back into town after I had dropped off the car. And so I'd had 2 pints by 6 o'clock. Soon after that we were up at the local police station at their Christmas function, and the drinks were ridiculously cheap. And the rounds started.....

I danced and drunk and evaded the advances of a paunchy, balding prosecutor and danced some more with some guy that might have been Pio from Pete and Pio. And then i reached the point, some 9 hours after we first got to town, that I needed to go home. And I woke up naked. Which is basically an alarm bell, translating to

oh god, I must have got hammered last night.

And I put on a brave face. I rang the boy and chatted away merrily. I ate a muesli bar. I watched tv in bed. I pretended everything was fine. And then it hit me..........

It's not the drinking. It's how we're drinking.

My first car

At the grand ole age of 26 I have bought my first all to myself car, and I'm feeling quite chuffed. at the moment it is up with its grandad who is a mechanic and changing it's timing belt or something. Giving it a good workover anyhow. It is bright red, a "96 toyota corolla hatchback, a manual. It has done lots of kms, but it's grandad assures me that it runs like a dream and will keep going and going. Apparently, they're so good, they're as rare as rocking horse shit to buy. And the best bit is, my mum bought it for me, and she's been dead for almost 4 years! What a great mum.

Had a delicious weekend with the boy down in Taupo. We had prawns and fillet steak and bubbles and our own spa (I was ashamed of our self-indulgence....I really was). And it was just really really nice.

Work is tough but still great. Three week fraud and forgery trial. Basically just a despicable waste of public resources even prosecuting the matter...

One of my bestest people in the whole world brought to my attention the possibility that my current lack of interest in this blog may be a reflection of my happiness. I think she may be on to something.

Did I mention that the club stalker guy is bi-polar.......found out at the last meeting when he turned up on his bike cause his dad, also bi-polar, had taken to his son's car with an axe.......

That foamy beer in the foreground is my genuine Duvel beer in Brussels.

Shot down

Recently Frank and I had a run in because Jacob wanted me to stand near the bathroom while he had a shower cause he had seen a scary movie, Assasins, and apparently there's some big cat face that comes right up to the screen and that's in his head or something. Anyway i overstepped the boundaries apparently.

And with so little gratitude.

Tonight i managed to convince jacob that brushing his teeth was in his best interest and i have as an adult, left the dentist in tears. I stood there and watched him with big sister adoration. And he glanced nonchalantly up at me, and said,

Why are you just standing there?

I thought you might like some company.

Not really <<<>>>

You used to like having company.

Yeah, well times change.

Anyway i may start writing on this again. Or i may need to kill myself on account of being junior counsel in the most boring 3 week fraud related trial of all time. Or i may in fact be murdered by one of the looney toons in the club i belong to who, obviously distraught that i wouldn't give him my cell number, or text him when he gave me his number, decided to get hold of my landline number, and then hung up on me when i asked him what i could do for him. Looney toon.