28/02/07
When it's time to party we will party hard -
Categories: Saturday
A long time ago now, when I was about 17 and my mother used to drive me to college in Blackburn on her way to work every morning, we came to a realisation, we shouldn't talk to each other for at least the first three hours after we've woken up.
Every morning without fail the combination of me being 17, suicidal, hung over, on a come down and various other mental health issues, along side her hitting the menopause just lent itself to massive arguments right up until I left home to go to university the first time.
Until I went back to uni this time I'd lived with my mum and dad for the last 6 years on and off and when ever we shared a house we'd never broken the "no talking for the first three hours that one of us gets up" rule unless either of us had woken with a particularly cheery mood.
That rarely happened.
this morning however was to change that. I came down stairs to make a cup of tea and saw my mum was looking a little upset. I shouldn't have said anything. what I did say was "are you alright?" at which point she said that she wasn't, and that she'd opened my post and that she was disappointed in me.
There then followed an argument about the state of my bank balance and how she and my father wanted to leave the country and felt that they couldn't if I was in financial trouble.
Admittedly opening my defence with "So you're pissed off with me because you opened my private mail?" wasn't the best plan, as that only seemed to agitate her. the conversation built, and then my sister saved us by phoning to ask if one of us could babysit.
After that the conversation had calmed slightly and I managed to explain the situation. I realised that I needed to get some of the money I'm owed back asap as it was a combination of that and having spent over £1,000 on fuel for the car in the last month that had got me to this state. I had to admit to my mum that I didn't have any food in the house and hadn't for a few weeks, and quite how bad the home situation had got.
in an effort to sort a few things out, and realising that I still didn't have my purse I went out and started work at the frog, it's cool to look through some of these tapes, and watching the regular comperes over and over again doing the same "spontainious" ad libs is great. I think it's underrated, some comics change their material every couple of months, as do most of these comperes, but it's the ability to make something that you've said a hundred or even a thousand times sound like it's just come off the top of your head that takes a degree of real skill.
As this ended I headed over to pick up Dave and head off to Sheffield, Saturday was a lot easier on the roads and we got there quickly. Even though I wasn't performing it's still nice to spend both evenings back stage at a big weekend club, though getting itchy feet and wanting to get out on stage and perform is a bit irritating. Pierre said he couldn't believe I could put up with it, but I take every gig that I'm not performing at as homework and I look and I see what they're doing and how I can improve for the next time I'm on stage. This evening the crowd where a bit subdued, but soon enough the gig was over and we had to be on our way as Both Dave and I were supposed to be at a party for our friend Ros.
Now I like to be fashionably late, but arriving at a party at 1:25am, especially when it started at 8 is a bit late, half the guests were already crashing but it was still good, there was dancing and debauchery, at one point Dug and I ended up really going for it to Andrew WK's Party Hard, trying to get some guy we'd barely met up and dancing, it was only when the song finished we saw the whole rest of the party staring and laughing. But you know, make fun where you can.
We also met some ace guy from Chicago called Chase, of course, he'd only been in England for three days so I guess I must have been about the thousandth person to say "Wow that's cool, Americans always have cool names like that or... erm... carbohydrate-enema, or, erm... sardine-mangle" Funny how at that time in the morning your ability to recall things fails you.
Apparently, he doesn't really "get" British humour, So if you're reading this I apologise for the next thing that happened, I asked him where he was from, he told me Chicago, I said "oh wow, Chicago Illinois, home of erm..." Dug chipped in "Alcatraz!" "no, that's San Fransisco." We both looked disappointed, I ventured "the Empire State Building?" "No that's New York." Dug again went for "that big mountain with the blokes faces on it?" "Again, no, that's South Dakota." finally I went with "Sea World?" apparently that's Orlando. thankfully we all thought of the Jerry Springer Show and the Blues Brothers at the same time, so that we didn't end up looking foolish.
at about six Am everyone was starting to fall apart and sleep was needed for all of us so we got a lift Back to Dugs from Katie Mulgrew who for the first time in a party situation that I've been in wasn't "the Drunkest" a crown which she took from me when I quit drinking.
It's been a year and three months since I last had a drink, and it's been a year and a half since I got utterly trashed at a birthday, stripped to the waist (bottom half) drank a load of flaming Absinthe, managed to break a toilet seat with my face and ended up passed out across Barry Dodds' lap whilst he held a bottle of poppers under my nose to try and "bring me round" so that he could get me to drink some more absinthe.
You know, I don't miss it.
It was nine by the time I went to sleep. another full day with little that I can really explain about it.
Sundaynday, for the most part was spent wrapped in a Duvet sat on a couch whilst watching everyone else try to recover. I helped them all out as best I could with cups of tea. but essentially it was a day of DVDs, fortunately considering the fragile mental state of some of the guys it was good we didn't end up watching, as was suggested Pan's Labyrinth, or Last Man Standing. I'd learned from watching Deep Impact one new year's day that you should never watch anything that bleak when hung over or on a comedown, unless you wanted your mind to turn against you for good. In the end we watched Josie and the Pussycats A fantastic bubblegum movie and one of my favourites.
At one point Doley had gone to get showered as he had a gig that evening at Matt and Phred's on Tib Street and emerged not looking like death as he had 20 minutes earlier, but looking fresh as a daisy and with a big smile looking fine. "Anyone want a cup of tea?" he asked before disappearing off to make us all one.
about five minutes later he came through to the lounge still looking fine for a few minutes stood watching the TV before letting out a small wail, crouching down and saying "Oh God, I've horribly misjudged that. It was a false dawn!"
His set that evening was specacular, as was the performance from the headliners Die Clatterschenkenfietermaus, if you've not seen them I Urge you to go and see them, sell your children if you have to they are one of my favourite acts of all time, Jason Cook who plays Karl Karl is one of the few people I know who could do a one hour Edinburgh Show which was just made up of put-downs for an audience.
From here on in it was to the pub for a drink then home to watch the Oscars with my mum before I passed out on the couch before Monday which was to be one helluva day.
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