School Nite Partying Is Bad
Listening to: Listen - Toad The Wet Sprocket
You know it and I know it… partying on a school night is a recipe for general badness
and a painful day at work :-|… But some times, just sometimes, the means has nothing
to do with the ends and you just do it.
One of the greatest things about this Christmas has been having some really close
friends come back from the UK. Monday night was the highlight of this little nostalgia-fest.
You never realise how much you’ve missed someone until they turn up and drink you
under the table…. perverted, but true.
Sometimes shared history is the most valuable thing that you own and because it is
shared it is even more precious. I, for a number of reasons, don’t have a lot of truly
affective shared history (probably the result of a really WASPy upbringing) but what
I do have, perhaps because of it’s rarity, has something of an impact. It’s something
that doesn’t bother me until someone turns up and hits the rewind button and then
all hell breaks loose. So sometimes the hang over is a respite … something else
to focus on.
What’s a blog if not a public forum for self indulgence 
