Whew…

… I finally seem to have run out of things to say.

I’ve been away for the weekend in Other Northern City with some old school friends. Well, I say, ‘old school friends’, I never went to their school but I have known them all for years now.

Lovely weekend all round really. JC turned 21 and we all went out and it is possible that I got extremely drunk. Word to the wise: iPhones, with their easy access to the internet including facebook and email, as well as texting and calling capabilities, and decidedly not-drunk-friendly keyboard, are a very bad plan. Sorry about that. Doubtless one day I will go for a hilarious drunken blog entry – although that said this was the first time I had got truly drunk since the summer and I now remember precisely why that’s the case.

And then two long lazy hangover days where we wandered round Other Northern City, which is picturesque, and had lunch at a cellar bar where they don’t give you tapwater for free. I now know that it isn’t a legal requirement, but, well, so? They were going to charge me £1.40 for a glass of water that they had run through their filter pump. Last time I was refused a free glass of tapwater I believe I got thrown out of the tea shop I was in at the time; this time I just very crisply and pointedly ordered something else instead and didn’t tip. See? Me being all mature and assertive? Yes?

The next morning JC and everyone else gave me lots of worthwhile career advice, concluding that it looks like I think everyone is stupid and I should probably try and get a degree so that I can be put in a lab on my own where I shan’t be able to offend anyone.

And we also watched a lot of daytime telly, Marry, Snog, Avoid being a particular favourite. How did I not know about the great wealth of awful things there are on the telly before it gets dark? I think my synapses actually went on strike during Take Me Out; so it was no wonder that at dinner last night I practically fell asleep despite being in what seriously looks like it might be the ale Mecca of my city. A rather  good roast, millions and millions of bottles of local ales, and cocktail offers after eight. By this point I was so tired that I was quite happy just to sit and eat and listen to my housemates being hilarious.

Anyway, this entry honestly reads as if its in translation. What doesn’t help is that whenever I type apostrophes I end up typing a search query into some kind of Quicklinks box or something at the bottom, so I’m having to miss them all out and then put them all in using spell check which obviously doesn’t work for its, so I’m sorry about that. No idea what I can do about that.

Anyway. Im not dead. Just semi-literate; and hopefully I will be back to being my usual scintillating self soon.

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10 Comments

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10 responses to “Whew…

  1. I love the word scintillating.

    Gives me images of bright flashes in the dark – charged particles slamming into a target, scattering flurries of photons as electrons fall back into the ground state.

    Some really cool things were observed with scintillators, like the discovery of the existence of the nucleus.

    And yeh, I’ve sent some pretty mashed up texts on my iPhone while drunk. There’s a threshold, before it the auto-correct is able to fix your text perfectly back into place, after it your input is so uncoordinated that no amount of computer intervention can ever hope to correct it, no matter how hard you try.

    Ah well, this is why friends don’t let friends drunk dial/text/email/tweet…

  2. Jenny

    I’m slightly unstoppable when drunk. The amount of effort required to stop me doing what I want whilst drunk is usually in no way proportional to the horrificness of the consequences of allowing me to go right ahead, I’m far too wilful and difficult and it’s been proven easier to let me wade right in and go swimming in Typhoid Central (the lake back home) if I want, or go running off into the park, or text/call/twitter at whoever I like. I’m not utterly unstoppable (thank goodness), but you have to weigh up whether it’s worth it because it will be difficult to do so. I guess I’m sort of like a toddler except five times the size and several times more devious…

  3. I wish I was a writer just so I could store away a name like “Typhoid Central” up in my brain ready to be unleashed on a story.

    Same thing with my dreams; I once dreamt that two pirates were having a sword-fight on the deck of a icebreaker. I really wish I knew how they got there, or what the heck they were fighting about.

    Sorry, tangent. 3:42 am comment, an’ all. I need to start coming back to posts like this, the replies are awesome!

    I also love the image of a devious overgrown toddler, scurrying off into a park brandishing a phone; that’s just wonderfully surreal.

  4. Jenny

    hehe thanks :). It’s also roughly true….!

    I had a dream about polishing my shoes the other night so I definitely shouldn’t remember or record my dreams. The one before that was about a lot of old men posting really boring things on twitter ALL NIGHT LONG. I wanted to die of boredom.

  5. Heh, it’s the gait that makes my mental image so amusing; that a toddler just wouldn’t seem to move right scaled up to adult size.

    Christ, those dreams are shite. My dreams have a more hallucinatory quality to them. They’re more like a collection of images and scenes that segue from one to other than real experiences.

    I do have a friend who regularly dreams about the gruesome murders of everyone she loves, so I guess boring dreams are a small mercy.

  6. Jenny

    Blimey, no. That sounds like some kind of really trippy Tim Burton horror moment, a grown-up sized toddler…! Are you imagining something of toddler or adult proportions?

    Yeah I used to have more fun dreams like that. I’d have these complicated adventures across all kinds of different landscapes with a vast array of constantly morphing characters from my life – people who might look like one friend but definitely actually were a different friend entirely, total strangers who looked like friends in real life, weird times.

    My sister used to constantly dream about me dying horribly. I gather it was terribly upsetting….

  7. Toddler proportions, but adult-sized. Weird as all fuck.

  8. Jenny

    Very weird. Very, very weird. Sorry to have done that to your brain!!

  9. C R M

    it wwas horrible. once you got run over by a train and your eyes jumped out.

    and then another time you were sat in the road with your back to the cars, and you wouldn’t listen no matter how much i warned you 😦

    xxx

  10. Jenny

    I feel guilty even now! And it wasn’t even me really! *hugs* I promise never to do any of those stupid things :).

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