OK I'm sorry. I promised myself to write this thing everyday and for the past few days I have not done so. You see I have been just about computorless. I have been seperated from my mechanical soulmate, our divorce has been decreed by some idiot you though it would be good idea to take what is not his. He will sell what is not his and care less for the little money he gets.
And so it happened that we were directly affected by crime. Not violently fortunately but affected nonetheless. What a pain in the ass its turning out to be as more and more is remembered! So the car is gone, its not the end of the world as it is insured but the problem though is that the car was not mine so someone else is now also affected. Someone else has to go through the inconvenience of filling in difficult to understand forms for insurance.
The problem also is that in this car, hidden in the boot was my trusted and valued laptop, as old as it was, this piece of plastic and circuitry had not given me one bit of hassle over the 6 or so years. This laptop was due for replacement, granted, but also contained years of stuff on it. Years of e mail addresses of people that I had communicated with, right up to date current information that I had worked on, hours of worked on the day before new menu designs for a new venture.
Pain in the ass is an understatement but you know what? It could have been a lot worse, I could have disturbed the fuckers in their process of stealing it, we could have been hijacked. People we know have suffered much more than we have, so less bleating and more thinking about tomorrow is what I say.
A mate of mine gets married this week, quickly and quietly and in a completely different manner to the usual wedding conspiracy. This weekend past was his bachelors or bulls party. As this was the second one I have attended recently (albeit this one I was only at for a bit) I thought that today I shall write a piece on this. During last week I watched the movie "The Hangover 2" and pictured this or something similar happening to my mate. When I caught up with him in the early evening he was barely coherant, having being on the sauce for a number of hours already, but definately having a great time and being the life and soul of the party that hadn't actually started yet. The mates he was with are real boy's boys, Toti rugby players and keen to give him a good send off. Keen to ensure that he forever remember his single days, keen to ensure that they claim their indellible rights to this shared time and memory. And not one of them, like me, was invited to the wedding. That is commitment to a mate in my book.
So why do we blokes think its a great idea to get our mate at his bulls party as drunk as possible and then try and staggeringly help him when he pukes? I'm pretty sure that scientific books have been written on this subject, phsychologists would have studied this phenomena and all the clever people, a bit like the kings men, couldn't put the riddle together again.
This is my take on it...we like to get drunk with our real mates. Together, drunk, we know that we as strong as any body builder, are better fighters than Mike Tyson, better drivers than Jenson Button and cleverer than any nuclear physisist. We know too that a career in modelling would have been too easy because we are so good looking, that chat up lines are our chosen field and we are recognised experts in them, that there is no one more charming than us, that we are actuallly latent business gurus, that all bouncers are just an inconvenience when going to a club and really we should have considered a musical career as our singing, especially as a group has no equal.
And all this in one night.
The next day though we realise that folly of our ways. We are now less of a good friend to yesterdays best friend, our knowledge of everything, especially medical stuff, has been momentarily forgotten as we struggle to find a cure for head aches, our all charming and singing personalities have deserted us as we try and explain the charms of the evenings to our significantly better halves, we have conveniantly forgotten the bit where the lap dancer sat on our lap, offering a happy ending. The bouncer looks a whole lot bigger this morning, we sneak a look at the car, hoping that it is still in one piece. And the really good idea to take off our shoes and maybe shirt on the dancefloor is only now a recurring nightmare of embarressment.
So with this now water under the bridge, we move onto new beginnings where we are expected to be sensible, mature and restrained. Married life is after all sensible business where all should be shared and communicated with our stuck to the hip wear the pants wives. Us leopards, we should all change our spots, we should now ask for permission, we should now get the proverbial pink slip. Life now is serious, our intake of alcohol should be controlled, our friendship with long standing mates should be vetted. Ah yes, married life....
Or (yes there is another option) we could just trust each other, we could have faith that the person we married because of who they were at the time will be who they are into the future. We will expect that over time the person we marry will mature with us and go through various changes in life, hopefully together we will come out the other side. We will try and travel the journey with them.
And all this will be beautiful until your next mate says he's getting married and his bulls party rolls around. It shall then start again...
Until tomorrow.
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