It's All Relative

Just when I was feeling a bit embarrassed about my now only occasional but still juvenile inability to pace myself while drinking, Juice comes back with stories that make me feel so much better.

See, Juice apparently works for a company that hires only serious drinkers and borderline alcoholics. So on Friday night, after a particularly heavy session, one of his female colleagues ended up vomiting all over the train while on her way home from the bar.

Not to be beaten, a male colleague eventually ended up in the hospital and on a drip after too many tequila shots.

Ah, schadenfreude. You're always there to prop up my dignity in times of need.

Party Like It's 2006: Sunday Session

As I've probably documented on this blog, Australians are firm believers in "the Sunday Session" - getting together in the afternoon on a Sunday to start drinking with no end in sight, everyone pretending every step of the way that none of us actually have to do anything productive the following day.

So after a long 5-course lunch in the sun, CJ and I wandered over to the pub to have "just one or two more" before calling it a day.

Alas, I have no recollection of the last two hours of the afternoon, despite being home by 8pm. And so, after two Sundays in a row that probably didn't need to involve quite so much alcohol, I've decided I should possibly avoid returning to the glory days of 2006 where Sunday Sessions were a permanent fixture of my social calendar. Because, hell, I am way too old for this shit.

So, This Conversation Happened

The scene: Opera Bar. Well before my friends have arrived, and after a hideous but ultimately successful week in the office.


Zander: Hi there. Can I please get a bottle of the Pinot Gris?

Bartender: No worries. How many glasses?

Zander: Just one is fine, thanks.

Bartender:

Zander: It's been a rough week. Don't judge.



And so we had a quick but hearty laugh, and then I settled down at a table outside overlooking the harbour and enjoyed my little reward to myself. Alone. AND I'M OKAY WITH THAT.

Daylight Savings BBQ/Dance Party

We've finally reached that time of year in Sydney where not only is it warming up, but the sun is out until 7pm. And so, I felt it necessary to celebrate the arrival of daylight savings with a small BBQ.

That may have turned into a boozefest/dance party. On a Sunday evening.

I love my life. Unfortunately, I don't love my hangover quite so much.