Drunk and Disorderly Behaviour

So I’m trying something new tonight. As we know I often write this blog while sharing a wine or a port with myself. Not sure why really, but the way some people have to have a beer when barbequing, or have a red with dinner, I find that having a drink with my laptop is pretty much a perfect date lately (and I don’t even have to bother getting dressed up for it)

But tonight I’ve ditched the wine glass and the port bottle, and am partaking of a refreshing beer instead. I’ll blame the heat, as usually the only time I tend to have a beer is after cutting the grass. (I do understand how weird that sounds, but beer just seems to go following a big effort pushing the mower around – the mower making me feel strangely blokey and manly and in need of a drink to match) So here I sit sipping on Hahn Super Dry (subtle name drop there, lets hope Hahn now google their product, see I’ve mentioned it and send me a free carton or two)

I’ve also come down sick. Again. AGAIN. Remember late last year, where I had two or three months suffering insomnia, then sick, then not quite recovering, going back to work, then getting sick again, but like, three or so times this went on? Just when I thought it was safe to go back in the water I wake up with a head cold. Smack in the middle of summer.

I really did think it was safe to go back in the water too, and really tested this theory with a skinny dip at around the 1am mark earlier this week. It seemed like I great idea at the time, but then so did drinking my dads ‘mystery moonshine” (home made bottle of top strength brew – thanks Pa) on a school night. Mystery Moonshine probably being responsible for also thinking loseing all bikinis whilst in the pool would be a brilliant idea. Or doing swan dives in the moonlight, and handstands in the pool, sans bikini bottoms (you know just for the laugh and to see if we could see rudie bits)

Alcohol really does have a lot to answer for.

I’d stop, truly I would, if only it wasn’t having so much damn fun. I’m not condoning drinking by the way. Oh stuff it, it’s my blog, I’ll condone what I want. I’ve had some brilliant nights drunk, but then on the flip side I’ve had some really brilliant nights sober too. (and tragic / sad / heartbreaking / joyful / fun nights both with and without)

I’d love to tell you about many of my drunken exploits, but they may incriminate me. As it is I’m just lucky work has never tuned into my blog or I may find myself on the unemployment line (and back to drinking passion pop, which…just for those that didn’t know this bit of trivia, contains both fish and nut extracts. FISH EXTRACT. If you don’t believe me go check out a bottle. The fact I’ve recently discovered fish extract is part of passion pop is almost worthy of a blog enntry in its own right).

I’m also incredibly thankful that my parents don’t have net access anymore and therefore can’t tune into half the stuff that might turn their hair grey (er)

I recall fondly the night I got moved on from under the round-about in the main street for singing to the passing traffic (it was Christmas, Carollers can get away with it, why can’t I). Or the night I went to the local cop shop begging for a lift home as I feared my boyfriend at the time would be really angry if I rang, woke him up asked him to pick me up so drunk. (he was) Or the time I flagged down a cop car in a country town, with some stolen council witches hat, thinking it was a taxi cause I saw the pretty lights. (it definantly wasn’t a taxi, but thankfully, the coppers had a sense of humour. This is just as well as I hadn’t done a conventional flag down….. Id been making some really lude and rude gestures with the hats, then was up to wearing two of them like I had Madonna Boobies circa 1990’s by the time they pulled over to the gutter to speak to me. For the record, the cops ended up offering me a lift home, the younger one I learned was named Nick and was married but open to offers according to his good self. Naughy Nick.

I also did once get moved for laying down on the road doing my speed hump demonstration. I really used to excel at that. I was always deadly serious too. Like it was truly a talent no one else was blessed with (what the hell, I still believe I have a real talent for this)

I recall another time dancing in my socks in a paddock at about 6am, when I thought it was surely only about midnight, and just a really, really bright moonlight.

I’ve woken up in the back of the ute from my B&S days far too many times to remember, but thankfully, haven’t actually woken up with anyone I’ve ever regretted. (touch wood) I’ve had more hangovers than I care to remember too, and though I long to be able too, I just can’t bounce back again the next day like I use too.

Over the years I’ve gone from a hard core rum drinker, to a champagne quaffer. (I wish I knew how to spell that) So my tastes have probably improved, but I still drink like a fish and still can’t hold it to safe myself. Makes for an amusing night for everyone else though, inviting me to a party is like saving on an entertainment as I’m bound to be it

I had a huge Melbourne Cup day this year – especially considering I was at work for it (well for 45 mins in between trips to the handily placed pub opposite the office) I walked down the main street with a champagne bottle aloft, and ended up ending the night in a pub (different to the one I started in, with a different group too...I found new friends throughout the course of the day) and also completed the evening by ringing a friend and singing Elvis love songs to her. I’m not sure why, but I thought at the time she would really, truly appreciate my efforts (I like to think she did. It was quite a good rendition of Always on My Mind, I think I really nailed the chorus) I also remember expressing delight that some man I was talking to had actually referred to me by my name. I thought (in a state of great excitement) that this was SOME KIND OF SIGN, only to have him point out that I still had my staff name badge on. Again, how thankful am I work don’t read this blog? The same night before leaving, another friend had to go and fetch my fascinator from someone else head, (he was barely out of nappies but looked rather fetching in it) Apparently I had given it to him earlier. (I don’t believe this part of the story though, as it was one of my favorite fascinators and made especially to go with an outfit and had scored me a spot in the Fashions On The Field event twice).

And just a mere few nights ago I thought splashing naked in a pool would be good for me...and thus leading me to a head cold. I’ve decided I need to sleep more, drink less wine but more water, and feast on more veges and salads.

Or just go buy a good stock of Coldrel Cold and Flu capsules instead.

Anyway, my new years resolution is therefore the usual ‘be healthier, exercise more, blah blah blah’. I haven’t started yet of course, because everyone knows that January doesn’t count because you have too many events in there to even think about de-toxing. I’m on holidays for the first part for a start, then you have the post Christmas catch up drinks, Tamworth music festival (which is the only time I consider Muscat a breakfast food) Australia Day long weekend and then one last blow out with friends to discuss how you plan to start being 'good' come February 1st and need to have one more night eating and drinking what you want.

I’m usually good then, well good at least until the dreaded February 14th rolls around when I generally treat myself to a bottle of something good, and a fattening dinner as a gift to myself...because I obviously love me and need to let myself know that. I hope to surprise myself with a handmade card this year.

So come February 15th therefore, I promise I will start my new years resolution.

I plan to stay on it till at least the 16th , when I see have penciled in a road trip weekend to catch a band at the Tarago Pub. (if you have never been the this place, known as The Loaded Dog, its worth the drive. Anything goes at The Puppy) I can’t possibly not drink that weekend. Right.....so come March 1st, that’s D Day, I’m on the wagon.

I’ll stay on that wagon too, just you watch me. (thankfully, I see Easter is incredibly early this year so I have a good excuse to jump off that wagon just a few shorts weeks after I get on it).

Happy New Year Everyone. Make sure you don’t go breaking your New Years Resolution now you hear.