No hangovers and yellow snow

I am delighted to announce that I have managed to struggle right through to New Years Eve without a hangover! (Of course I could destroy this completely, by getting totally legless between now and 11.59pm tonight!) In fairness I think I have had a helping hand by still being slightly off colour but I still feel mildly smug that I have managed to successfully lift my head off the pillow (almost) cheerfully, on every (late) morning after the night before. Of course, I have still managed to consume my body weight in wine and beer over the festive period, however watching total accumulative volume was not the discussion or the challenge!

I'll be honest though, I did have one near miss. Bee Gee's Tribute Night. No, I didn't drink to get through it, they were actually really good (despite us being the youngest jiggers in town) but I was surrounded by a number of "BIB's" (Bad Influence Buddies) so maybe consumed a couple more "lemonades" than I should have. But, I can proudly confess to making a switch to water later in the evening (You cheated one BIB declared the day after), I actually refused some drinks when they were offered (rude I know!) and I declined a vodka shot (ok I said yes to the first one, but I didn't drink the second ok!) The funny thing, is that being a teensy bit less drunk than everyone else means that you then take on a slightly different role when it comes to going home. I went from being the "irresponsible" one who gets grumpy and sulky when told its time to leave....to somehow becoming the "responsible" one and morphing into....well someone I am at work ...a bossy cow. It went a little something like this (Please note names have been changed to protect identities):

Jenipen flags down taxi

Jenipen manhandles Fred into the front seat

Jenipen shouts down the street to Jackson "Hurry up I have a cab"

Jenipen apologies to taxi driver

Jenipen shouts "Jackson I have a cab! JACKSON"

Jenipen apologies to taxi driver

Jenipen shouts

Jenipen apologies

Jenipen shouts

Jenipen apologies

Jenipen shouts "No Jackson, stop running, its slippy, Jackson be careful. JACKSON!"

Cab drives us to Jackson's house, with the intention to eat and maybe have a wine (REALLY not required!)

Jenipen pays cabbie because Fred and Jackson can barely move

Fred starts playing with the snow

Jackson insists on going to the lavatory

Jenipen confiscates Jackson's keys so that she can let him in the house to use the loo

Jackson makes yellow snow

Jenipen shouts at Jackson

Fred nearly wets himself laughing

Jackson grins like a fool, swaying like a subbuteo football player

Jenipen shouts at Fred

Jenipen shouts at Jackson

Jenipen shouts at Fred

Jenipen shouts

Jenipen shouts

Yes. I think you get the picture.

Marvellous being on the other side of the fence! Anyway, it all ended well. Fred and Jackson suffered in the morning, but Jenipen just had a muzzy head and a hungry belly! HA! I have a feeling I could become a smug non drinker in January! So yes, here we are. It all starts tomorrow....and I am pleased to announce that I have 3 others who are 100% committed to joining me. I won't name names, but lets just say their names rhyme with Smell, Bendy and Case. I then have Boo, Pear and Handy down as maybe's....I wonder how many of you will make a committment to join me tomorrow after this evening's festivities?

So how will January work out for me? Will I be climbing the walls? Will I love being the sober one in the room? Will I just be plain grumpy? Will I become a lean mean fitness machine? I'm not sure, but I am off to sink some vino's before the clock strikes 12.....this starts tomorrow afterall.

But I will of course, let you know.

Happy New Year folks, thanks for reading!

Sorry...

I heard the story from the others
They told it with great glee
Partly from amusement
Partly because it was about me

I'm sorry if I caused you frustration
I'm sorry that you feel this way
I'm sorry if I led you on
I'm sorry for the things I didn't say

You told them that you loved me
You told them you made excuses to call
You told them you broke free
So that you could pursue me

I'm sorry if I misled you
I'm sorry you chose me
I'm sorry you feel shy when I'm about
I'm sorry if I treated you badly

You called them all idiots
Angry at my choices
You believe you could do better
You want it to be you
But I don't believe it should be me.

He is the light

Imagine it wasn't like this
But different to now
Acceptance
Embrace
Laughter
Erase.
And imagine it's not too late.
Imagine that he is the light
That keeps pushing through
And imagine you keep him bright
You feed each other
And fly away together
Life's not the same
Each breath will never be the same
Because he is the light.
And it's blinding.

A Christmas Memory?

Man Friend and I, were recently discussing Christmas. We chatted about our childhood experiences, how that changes when you find out Santa is not real, that one obligatory Christmas day ruined by a Christmas Eve where you accidently got obliterated with your mates and what we enjoy about Christmas now. "Do you still have a stocking?" He asked keenly. I think he was disappointed - and possibly slightly bereft - by my negative response to this question, but funnily enough "The Christmas Stocking", is in fact my favourite Christmas memory and a moment of the day that I like to share. 

Like most families we had a Christmas morning ritual in our house:

a/ Open stockings (little presents)

b/ Kettle boiled for tea and gas fire warming up the lounge - kids waiting upstairs

c/ Tea brewed and the kids being allowed into the lounge (Big presents!)

The stocking was therefore the first piece of the Christmas Day jigsaw. My brothers and I used my Dad's football socks for our stockings. This particular choice of sock was very deliberate - not only were they the biggest socks in the house, but the s-t-r-e-t-c-h in them were phenonemal - and they would be stuffed to the brim becoming a very crunchy, lumpy, sausage stocking! The format was always the same. Each stocking would be lined with a 10 pence piece, an apple, an orange and a brazil nut in its shell. (This is unfortunately how you always knew the presents were over, when your disappointed chubby kiddie fingers got a squeeze of a tangerine). It was then filled with small wrapped parcels, usually including some sort of Christmas breakfast, aka chocolate.

We would leave our stockings out, shrunken and empty, on Christmas Eve and in the night Santa would fill the stocking and lay it across our feet ready to be found on Christmas morning. So when I woke - usually still in the dark - I would shift my legs searching for the weight of the stocking. If I couldn't feel it at first, I would  stretch out my eager feet until I could feel the heavy sock that crackled when I touched it, the gift paper crinkling under my toes - "Eeek ...he's been!"

At this point of the story, Man Friend has a little chuckle, "He's been!" he repeats, a little wistfully I think.

"He's been" I repeated, extremely wistfully.

You see, this would be my single private Christmas moment, feeling the weight of the stocking at my feet and squeezing myself with excitement before I woke up my brothers and the day began. We would open our Christmas stockings together (although they were usually tired or hungover - there is a bit of an age gap) and their smelly boy bedroom would be come awash with wrapping paper and presents amidst exclamations of "Look what I got!"

There are lots of other Christmas memories of course, such as Dad chucking his Trivial Pursuit "pie" across the room in a temper before stalking out ("Stupid bloody game anyway"), gambling Smarties whilst playing "Higher or Lower" with my brother, my first bike ("Debbie"), my Mum and Dad's presents every year from his mother (toothpaste/imperial leather soap/flannel)... presents from people that you never actually knew (Aunty who? Are they a real Aunty?) ....the list could go on..... and anyone you speak to (unless their childhood Christmas' were truly dreadful) will usually have that favourite Christmas moment. Waking up to find the stocking is the memory that prevails as epitomising the way Christmas morning actually felt, for me.

"He's been...!"

Ah... Christmas....

Decision!

So.

I have had some interesting responses to my blog so far, the invitation to AA, the virtual "are you ok hugs" and the "I love the evil twin" emails aside, the main response I have had, is one of...well...understanding. People have either felt how I am feeling, are feeling how I am feeling or questioning whether they feel what I am feeling. I feel a Booze Free January epidemic on my hands.

The interesting thing, is that some of you have been secretly habouring the "I don't like drinking as much as I used to and I don't want a hangover tomorrow" carefulness for some time. I mentioned to a friend about the fact "I was so over booze" and explained my blog content, and he admitted that 12 months ago he made a pact with himself not to lose the next day to hangover torture. It's funny how during the many beer fuelled evenings we have spent with our other boozy friends that he failed to mention it? I wonder how many "lager tops" he was sneakily consuming in an attempt to limit his alcohol intake? How many of us are secretly watering down our consumption rather than lose face by admitting that we are "cutting down".

Maybe this is why I have had such a positive reponse to my blog? Is it because I am often the one encouraging others to "go on have another!" Maybe everyone is taking a deep sigh of relief that the "bad influence" is finally taking a step down?

HA don't kid yourselves ! You know you all love it!

So yes, after much deliberation I have indeed reached a decision.

I am going to have a booze free January and I am permitting myself alcohol over the Christmas period. Whilst I am keen to clean up my lifestyle and liver, it seems very wrong to deny myself the pleasure of a wee tipple over Christmas. However, I do have one small criteria. No hangovers allowed. I can live with a fuzzy head or a morning of being slightly slow on the uptake, but there are to be absolutely no days/activities to be lost by an inability to move my ass further than the pantry/toilet/mobile charger/front door. Challenge? Perhaps. But I'm going to try! So if I want 3 glasses of wine instead of two, that's fine, but I will also require a pint of water and a couple of mince pies.

So, this opens up the next question on the nib of Jenipen's pen (?!) - who else is going to join me in my January challenge? I have a feeling that a few of you are keen, but clouded with "Am I capable?" doubt. And will Jenipen survive the rest of December hangover free? 

I will let you know.

I've seen your type before

Don't talk to me
Don't look at me
Don't pity me
Don't humour me
Don't love me
Because I've seen it all before
Your type makes my stomach hit the floor
Looking for loving
Where you feel so mis-understood
And there's got to be something more
Don't talk to me
I can't be your saviour
Don't humour me
I can't be your life relief
Don't try to love me
Because you know that you're a thief
Yes, I've seen your type before.
Here you are again
Eyes so needing to implore
Listen to me
Talk to me
You're the only one who's sure
No. Stop. I've seen your type before.
Yes. Stop. I need to close the door
Don't speak
Don't listen
You are clouding my decision
I should know
I've seen your type before.

There is you

Sometimes I go round in a daze
Wondering how I got here
Who I am
And how I got lost in this crazy maze

The weeks seem to merge
And my head seems so strange
Life just seems
Ever so deranged.

And then out of the blue
I smile and am confused
There is hope
There is you?

My head is not so mashed
I don't feel burnt out
And like a car that has crashed
There is you

Your smile gives me soul
Your words inspire my thoughts
Your touch relaxes my frazzled brain
Because out of the blue
There is you.

There is you. There is you.
You iron out my creases
You smooth down my frown
You nurse my tears
And craddles my fears
Out of the blue - it's you.

Decisions Decisions?

So....I said I'd let you know.Well, on the basis I have been as sick as a dog for the last 3 days I figured that taking any form of comphrehensive descision whilst crying into my Kleenex Balsam was not the wisest of moves, hence my silence on this matter since the last post. I was fearful that I could well have ended up making highly emotional and irrational decisions and publically declaring that I was

a/ Giving up booze for ever and ever (Not going to happen!)

b/ Selling my much loved newly refurbished flat (travesty!)

c/ Leaving the country for 6 months to live in a hut in Thailand (Where would I plug in my straighteners?)

d/ Running away with the 23 year old Albanian (boy) I met on Saturday night (wholly inappropriate!)

Therefore, I decided it would be best to wait until I felt reasonably "normal" again. Today, I got the hoover out (and used it!), I didn't order pizza for tea and I didn't nearly cry when asked to do something at work by the boss. So I reckon I could be there.

The decision is this. I will permit myself some alcohol between now and the 1st January, and then have a month off the pop completely - along with the rest of the universe no doubt! 

So...the nominated days where I will allow myself to have a tipple will be; This Sunday/Christmas Day/Boxing Day/Beegees Tribute Night and perhaps New Years Eve if I can be bothered to go out, oh and perhaps Christmas Eve..oh and perhaps....Oh.

Bugger.

Suddenly I am drinking 50% of the time between now and New Year.

Well, I guess that's better than 100%.

But does that mean that I will spend the other 50% of the time recovering? And do you think all of those days fall into the excuse box? Or the reason box? And if I actually am permitted to drink 50% of the time, am I going to limit my allowance? Two glasses? What size glasses? Two pints? (Filled with what?) 5 units (What actually is a unit, is this not also warped with perception too?) I certainly can't go by the quarter/half/full bottle because my brother always buys those suspicious cartons of wine holding about ten million litres that never seem to end (magic!)

So then that brings us neatly onto the next question...Is it actually "the booze" that causes the problem...or is it the fact that I do not actually possess an "off" button two glasses in. So if this is the case...should I be not actually banishing the booze, but just putting a limit on my intake. But am I capable of limiting my intake if I don't have an off button and always tend to say "sod it" instead of "No thanks sweetie I have had my fill".

Ok, so now I suddenly have more questions than I do answers.

Dammit. I'll let you know.

Wine Time

Hey kid! (I hear myself say)
Where you going now?
Wanna come over to mine?
Lets go wild on the tiles
Lets set the world to rights
Lets dance all night
Strange Town conversations
Argue and fight?
Hot dog stands, taxi rides
Drunken kisses
Handheld songs
Laughter and smiles.
Yet tomorrow I know you won't be right
Tomorrow you see her
And I see him
We pretend it's alright
I draw you pictures that make you smile
You hold my hands and tell me I'm fine
But tomorrow I'll be mean
Your careless tongue will make me crazy
And the walls are built
Until the next Wine Time.

Where does the fun stop and the pain start ?

I have just had a 5 day weekend, and it is being neatly finished off with a streaming nose and sinus pain. You would think that after all this time off work I would be rested, feeling fit from all the gym sessions and have completed all my Christmas shopping - right? No. Instead I have had 3 nights out on the trot, which also means 3 days confined to my sofa, plus a day " in recovery" and now a day sick.

I had fun - there's no denying I had fun - but I am not sure I had quite enough fun to warrant the disabling days I spent watching daytime tv (as much as I love it!) feeling vaguely depressed and not knowing what to eat - because quite frankly the thought of putting something in my mouth made me wince. The age old question raises its ugly head again - is it worth it?

I love the pub. I love the ritual of going to the pub for a drink. I love feeling my my head get lighter, I love talking rubbish, I love the barriers that fall away between friends, I love the funny stories that evolve out of the "evil twin" being born after a few beers or glasses of Pinot. But I hate not knowing where to stop, I hate not knowing when to shut up, I hate feeling shitfaced, I hate the evil twin not understanding where funny stops and stupidity starts and most of all, I hate wasting the next day with a dirty hangover.

There is of course a happy medium to be had. Just drink less. Just get tipsy. Just drink water. Just say "no" to another drink - right? Sometimes yes, but other times "no" just isn't on the vocabulary list, and I used to find that funny. But I don't anymore.

So what to do ? In all honesty, I have reached a stage of life where I am actually considering, well...giving it up. Yet this seems like a mammouth task and a little extreme. It also raises the slightly frightening question of what would it do to my social life? Would it be crippled completely? Or would it open different doors of opportunity? Would I start doing some of the things in life that I proclaim I want to, rather than spending my free time nursing a hangover? This thought process is then swiftly followed up with, what about that Christmas do, what about that birthday, what about the wine left in the fridge, what about what about what about what about.......excuses excuses excuses.

The thing is, that not all of my friends are bothered about drinking. Some never have been, others got bored of the hangovers years ago, others realised their health coudn't deal with it anymore. So some of my friends would probably be quite happy to share coffees and cuppas and forsake the pints and pinot. Others however would be disappointed, I think they quite like my evil twin....

So I can only conclude that the place to start is somewhere at the beginning. The beginning is committing to a period of time being booze free. (I have tried it before, but I was bored of being strong after two weeks and caved in. I have not bothered since because I don't believe I will give it up forever, so what's the point?) But now I feel if I don't try, I don't know and if I don't know then I can't draw a conclusion over whether my life is better without it. So can I do it this time? Shall I start now? Or start on 1st January like other well intentioned folks trying not to surrender to their vice....

I'll let you know.

So here I am

So...indeed....here I am. As inspired by http://thekraftyfox.blogspot.com/ who has encouraged me to consider having some of my written work "out there".

Pause for thought. Watch this space. The blog begins...