Flashback!

Saturday night was the uni reunion, I went last year and it sucked royally because of an ex-boyfriend who apparently loves to make me want to kill myself, even five years later, there he was all "you have no soul", which is an interesting insult when you think about it because maybe he's right? I can't prove otherwise, but then insults that make you think about existential arguments and the inate nature of humanity aren't all that cutting really, he's just a pillock.

We decided this year that we wouldn't even pretend to stay at the halls of residence because fond memories need not be replaced by real life, halls were great when you were 18 and your room was just the pitstop between the bar and the lecture theatre but it was what the halls represented that was great rather than the building itself, so we booked a couple of hotel rooms and felt smug and superior for the evening. Nice.

This, plus me drinking Jack Daniels rather than Tia Maria led to some rather mocking looks, Amit now lists me in his phone as 'Hannarr actually' and I had a full five minute talk on 'seriously man, what happened to you?', until I poured half a glass of Jack Daniels and coke into a glass of Tia Maria and coke, not realising that Amit and Andy were trying to reconnect me to my roots, then they realised nothing had happened to me, take away the mortgage and the car and I'm still an idiot. And yes I drank it. And yes I felt like someone had removed my brain and replaced it with ball bearings the next day. Tiny ball bearings. With spikes on them.

By the way, to answer Moch's question, I totally believe that while it's not intentional but Top Gun is absolutely about Maverick struggling with his sexuality, it's the only way to explain the soundtrack.

'Danger Zone', that's all I'm saying.

Anyway, Saturday night got messy, really messy and I can't talk about why or how (how relieved are YOU? You know who you are.......), it's just that now I have these flashbacks, debilitating ones that make me go "oh god!" every so often, which doesn't bode well when you're back at work.

To properly demonstrate how messy Saturday night got, but without giving away any details that will make someone reading this start to sweat in an unattractive way, at one point I decided the best plan was to lock myself in the security room and hide, which resulted in me being thrown out of the security room by some deeply unimpressed security guards. I bet you never thought that you could get thrown out of the little room where they put the drunkern reprobates did you? Well you can.

Oh the flashbacks, will they never end? I want to fill my head with stuff I can distract myself with, like why is Ray in a wheelchair in the previews of next weeks ER? and I can't believe I missed Grey's Anatomy again this week, It's all TV based stuff, I think I prefer fictional drama about men with hair to real life men with hair (that was a clue there, did you see? Subtle, like a ninja clue).

Think about the decking, the calm prettiness of the soon to be finished decking, Ahhhh.......

There are some photo's on Facebook you can see if you're my friend, they're awful because Andy clearly can't take photo's for shit, seriously, I know it's a camera phone but just STEP BACK MAN! Focus.... That's better.