Friday night turned rapidly from 'a few beers after work and a martini at Js house' to a 'a few beers after work, a cocktail-binge session at Js, and then 6 solid hours trawling about town in a frantic whirl of booze and taxis and good bars and bad bars and good music and bad and smoke and mirrors and girls picked-up and dropped and lunging and turning and breaking into restaurants through their back doors and... home somehow and sometime and asleep 'til midday.'Every time I go out with these guys I seem to have skipped breakfast or lunch or breakfast AND lunch and you really think I'd learn wouldn't you but I haven't yet.
Saturday started with three bloody marys at home and then into town to drink beer and cider with J; suddenly we're back at his place again and there's more martinis to be drunk and South African cheese and biltang to be consumed and then the Mexican flatmate brings out the very expensive tequila... then it's - needs must - off to see The Jarman where I have to do my bit and I make my way through the best part of a bottle of pinot noir.
Sleep came easily around midnight and I suddenly wake at 1420 hours Sunday, sure in the knowledge of one thing only and that is that I have to be at the cinema across town in 40 minutes. Two bloody marys is as good a breakfast, brunch and lunch as any, so one shower and two large gulps later I am at The Paramount in time to see Werner Herzog's doco "The Grizzly Man". (BTW cheers, ENZEDFF, for the stink Werner Herzog director profile) (no offence, Rose).
After the film I have to take stock. In order to shore up my situation carbohydrates are called for so on the way home I call into a Japanese grill for some "fried dumpling". At home I just have time for two more bloody marys before I have to head to Te Papa to see another film, this time a doco called "In the Realms of the Unreal", about reknowned outsider artist Henry Darger (scroll down for bio).
Back home again later it's 10.30pm and I'm sitting in front of the computer, composing and drinking pinot. A friend txts me "What you doing?"."Composing and drinking" I txt back, "Come on over if ya wanna" and needless to say she does so we knock off the rest of the bottle and when she leaves at 1am it's all I can do to down a couple of fingers of Teachers, finish off the track I was working on and hit the sack about 2am, rested and ready for the busy work week ahead.
It's now Wednesday night and I think I'm still recovering.
5 comments:
Sounds like you need to learn how to party with the vendors!
Cheers
A
Well, not too much too add to that very thorough account of the weekend - I'd forgotten about the back-door entry into a certain bar... (Although one might mention your friendly overtures to a certain waitress that might need an apology? ;-)
However, for the sake of completeness, I need to point out that we were drinking
1951 Martinis as tought to me by the delightful James @ Tupelo. My difference being the use of orange-stuffed olives rather than Jame's anchovy-stuffed olives (when they haven't run out!) I think it's a nice nod to the Cointreau. And you're right, I didn't recover till mid-week... I blame the Mexican and his 100% Agave Tequila ;-)
J.
I still haven't recovered, and I was out till 8.30 on Sunday morning - So there!
What music software you using?
wow sounds like you probably need to go through detox after a weekend of consuming that much alcohol. No wonder you're still recovering!
P.S. I dont think i know you but thanks for reading and commenting on my blog. Internet friends are fun.
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