So I'll just resume my place without ceremony shall I?
Stayed at Emma's place for a couple of nights in Weston where it was mercilessly wet. Ventured Bristol way to catch up with Ken - purveyor of fine supermarket pizza and devotee of PES (computer football to the unitiated, or uninterested - I fall into both categories). Drank polish vodka (ahh Bison grass goodness, where have you been all my life?) and caught up on who's screwing who in Japan. Apparently everyone's screwing everyone.
30th - we packed up the car once more and bid fond farewell to the dreary, wintery, sodden streets of Weston (Stu's going to hate that bit, he always gets pissed off when I am less than moved by Weston's charms) and headed yet further south into deepest, darkest Devon. Fortunately for us we weren't travelling
this week, or we'd have made it little further than Tiverton - an unexciting transport hub on the cusp of the North Devon Links road. Anyway, it was last week, we made it with little to no fuss and were warmly greeted by Heather and a rugged up little Rock. Fred was napping and Dave was golfing (he's mad).
We had a beautiful night in Devon, eating steak, drinking red wine and champagne, and playing Taboo. It was boys against girls and I'm ashamed to say we just barely scraped through with the win. Heather and I (undoubtedly clever and lateral thinkers that we are), who have known eachother for years and can pick up on our respective idiosyncracies effortlessly, were close to defeat, too close. There was clearly an awesome power at work here. For want of a better phrase (anyone?) I call it 'boy-know'. This almost-victory (1 card separated winners from losers) was made all the more worrying for Heather and I when we realised that through the course of the game, Stu had managed to consume 3 good sized ales and a bottle of port all to himself. He was close to green, woefully drunk and slurring dreadfully - and still they kept up the onslaught. How? I suspect that when H and I stepped out for some fresh air, they may have peeked at a few, or all, of the cards.
Fun was followed by furious hangover. Thus Stu and I found ourselves, on New Years Eve, heading back to Bristol to check into our apartment, where we had a brief hour to recuperate before Ken, Katy, Rich and Stu's family descended on our rather cramped living quarters for dinner and drinks. Stu, Ken , Katy and I then headed to the Bristol Academy to dance the night away.
It was pretty chaotic and very messy by the time we got there at 11. Bar lines were outrageously long, so much so that midnight ticked over without any of us having been served. We were close to giving up when all of a sudden, we found ourselves at the front of the queue where we ordered as many beers as we could carry and settled in for what we hoped would be a night to remember.
It was, but perhaps for the wrong reasons:
Reason # 1: The music was lacklustre at best. I do believe at one point I entered a room only to be assailed by a mashup of Blue. Blue the boyband.
Reason # 2: The girls, oh the girls. Barely legal and barely covered up. Honestly, I thought we may have inadvertently wandered into a child pornography ring's Big Night Out. There was also a stipper on one of the stages dancing with King Kong, waving giant bananas. Ahem.
Reason # 3: There I was, happily dancing away to crap music, when some guy leers behind me and pinches my bum. It wasn't even as though there was anyone else around to blame, Katy and I were standing off to one side watching the mayhem. I gave him the finger and he leered again grabbing his crotch. Charming.
Reason # 4: The most pitiful reason of all for this being a night to remember - I didn't, couldn't, drink enough to forget.
Katy, Stu and I decided at 2am that the jig was up and we hightailed it, leaving Ken and his mates to dirty dance with 16 year olds til dawn.
Bless you Ken, thank you for getting the tickets for NYE, we did enjoy ourselves, and I hope you did too. It's just that I won't be doing it again. Ever.
Stu, Katy and I woke up on New Years Day to sunny, but chilly Bristol and took advantage of the fact that it wasn't raining, and we weren't feeling queasy, to wander the streets in search of breakfast. Spent the rest of the day wandering. I really love Bristol, especially the Clifton area - jammed full of funky shope, cafes and bars. I love how everything you could need or want is in walking distance, and it's so hilly. Love a good hill.
Anyway, that pretty much sums it up. Stu and I packed up the next day and did the long drive back to M Burgerville via the dreaded M6. We spent the next day in a state of semi-comatose, rousing only to attempt getting ready for work the next day.
Now back at work (for a month) and looking for another job. Sigh. Need a holiday.