Sunday, March 21, 2010

Peaking too early.

I never ever get friday/saturday off. Except for this weekend.
'WOOOOO PARTY TIME' thought the little voice inside my head. The plan was to get my drink on and have a swell time. I was bound to have hilarious drunken stories for my monday morning 'how was your weekend?' quiz.

Friday night? Gallery opening with many a performance and free cider for all!
But uh-oh, it's an invite only gig and I wasn't one of lucky few. D: I moped around watching the new season of Skins, which was as disappointing as my night was becoming. I called friends in desperation, but they had their own things going on with GURRL-frangs, work and you're-not-really-invited-parties. I sat on my balcony looking out to the world, contemplating the totally hip night others were bound to have.
Then came my knight in shining armour.
"Do you want to hang out?"
"YES!!!!!" (said a little too desperately, cutting him off halfway through)
We got pizza, drank wine and watched Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.
Goddam Hermione's eyebrows just don't stop.
Decent night in.

On Saturday the night began well.
A few balcony beers with my housey-mate, singing and dancing to Robyn with a trip to the bottle-o.
Friends and friends-of-friends began arriving and eventually my 1.5mx3m balcony became too small for the ten of us. So we moved the party to the back yard. Suddenly I get all droopy-eyed and sleepy and I'm fairly sure it was altitude sickness.
I'm not pointing fingers, but one of my housemates may have also jinxed it by setting out some milestones for the night. Beers at home, move on to a bar/somewhere in the city, watch him hit on a girl and get rejected.
What should have ended in getting a drunken kebab in actuality turned out to be yours truly slithering upstairs at about 11:30 and promptly falling asleep.

I think the moral of my weekend is that I'm all burnt out.
The sad truth is that I peaked at 16.
I was the life of the party.
Sculling vodka like a eighty-year-old Russian and being an integral feature of party dramas.
Samurai swords, early morning treks, hiding from the po-po.

Maybe because drinking was illegal back in the day it seemed more hardcore, rebellious or dangerous. It wasn't so easy and so planning to get alcohol, getting alcohol and drinking alcohol was an adventure.

I'm contemplating taking up knitting, purchasing a rocking chair and use the phrase 'kids these days' more often.


  1. i think you'll find that WE were the life if the party.

    also, you forgot stabbed cabbies, baths of tea and fortitude fiestas.


  2. Your undies were damn fiiiiinnnee.