Sunday 27 December
2009 - BOXING DAY 2
This does not feel
like a Sunday. Today feels aimless and
thankfully still possesses something of the holiday
feel. This is a day for lounging but
sadly that also gives birth to worry and remorse whenever I endeavour to
undertake such downtime.
I worry about last
night, about a world making party without me. I guess my invitation got lost in the post. I thought last year was a barren period and
season over Christmas
but this feels ten times worse.
With that in mind
thank god that today Justin and Helen
are down from Manchester (via Kent) for lunch and a visit. If there are two people I sadly miss from my
life at these times it is them.
My morning gets spent
endeavouring to write
which comes with minor returns and some progress but nothing near what I had
hoped to achieve.
In addition to the
writing I watch the penultimate episode of season 2 of In Treatment. This is the final episode for John Mahoney’s character
and I have to admit I have really struggled to get through this season of the TV show
again. John Mahoney has proved one of
the more interesting characters of this season and with it he has really
displayed a range that you would not expect to come from Frasier’s dad. That said this character does not conclude
in a satisfying manner. For a figure
that has been put through the wringer to end on the verge of a heavy dose of
self-introspection does not really serve to help or assist anybody. I wonder just what other people take from
this show. Personally I take some of
the self-analysis and attempt to apply it to my own circumstances but often
this just does not go. Mahoney’s
character did at least offer an example of a person with a life of work and not
much else and truly I was able to identify with the imbalance at some points
but on the whole no solution to his existence ever came across over his
episodes. Maybe I’ll find the time to rewatch
these shows one day.
Halfway through the
morning Justin texts to say that he and Helen will be hitting town at 1PM,
which works out perfectly for me.
With this in mind I
pull myself together for lunch and my highlight of Christmas 2009 and
eventually head over to my parents crib for 1PM. In between times I get a text from Justin to say not to hurry as
he and Helen are stuck in traffic so for an extended spell I wait around my
olds as Arsenal
v Aston
Villa kicks off on Sky. At 1.30PM
the call comes through and we head to the Hole where Chris apparently already
is.
When I get to the pub
I see Chris and Steve in the
window. I wasn’t expecting to be seeing
Steve this Christmas, this being the first time I’ve seen him since the
Frank Chickens show in the summer.
As I arrive everybody seems well on their way to ordering food, which is
the first disappointment as I thought we were going to a restaurant, I had
truly saved myself for some good food.
Soon Steve is kicking
off but it is in a nicer manner than back in the day. Quickly he mentions my Facebook
Cull blog half in the fear it seems that I may suddenly decide to either
delete or save him as a result of discussing it. This is something I hadn’t even considered. He is full of nice props for the site though
(even calling it “genius”), I guess he can tap into the bitchiness of it.
In the end it’s not a
classic meeting. A few people are
conspicuous by their absence and also a few people really are not on form as
our group seems to splinter in half at times.
The food turns out to
be shit. First it takes forever to
arrive and when it does it just feels like slop, typical pub grub. And I get the biggest portion.
I fucking hate this
pub and have no fucking idea why it was suggested that we come here. For various reasons I have felt intimidated
here for years, not necessarily a physical intimidation just a mental fear that
this really is not a healthy place to be at my age and stage/point of personal
development. There is a stench of
defeat attached to a place where I spent so much of my time years ago that
weren’t necessarily good in the first place.
My friends however do not appear to necessarily acknowledge this
treating the place in the same way that they did back in the day which to an
extent suggests a lack of development/movement on their part. I may be wrong but this is just how it feels
to me.
To reiterate this
point in my mind it just feels typical when we look out of the window and spot
one of Chris’ ex-girlfriends with her family that has recently got married
(very adult). We glare at her in
mockery but in comparison we must only appear on the whole childish, stuck in
the rut that is our inhabiting this pub.
Afterwards we head
into the town escaping the grunge pub.
As our group drops in numbers we trawl around town as Justin and Helen
go in search of replacement Christmas lights.
Unsurprisingly we wind up in the tacky, temporary Christmas shop that
doesn’t actually have any carpet or linoleum.
Truly what has commerce been reduced to? Also the shop appears to be devoid of heating and the people
inside it are of a miserable state.
Still when Steve finds a Boyzone 2010 calendar
that features Stephen
Gately we can’t help but giggle at the bad taste of the experience. Quite frankly disgusted by the state of the
shop (but not the calendar) Justin, Helen and I exit the shop leaving Chris and
Steve behind to tickle their way through all the cheap kitsch items probably
made in Chinese sweatshops by elf-sized children.
The three of us head
towards Wilkinsons where they
figure they are bound to have some tree lights left. As we pass through onto Long Wyre Street I spot The Wookiee
walking through town with a kid. This
is the second time ever I have spotted her in town on a Saturday, both times
with a kid. I wonder if it is her
daughter. Certainly I have never
spotted a wedding ring on her finger (should I really admit to having looked?). Maybe The Wookiee has emerged from a failed
arranged marriage with this kid. Or maybe
she is a lesbian and this is her nephew.
Sadly this second scenario is more in sync with her business like
disposition that I see on the commute.
Eventually Justin and
Helen find some new lights and with Chris and Steve now seeming to have
disappeared I give Chris a call and it turns out they’re in Costa so we head
back to join them. On the way I now
spot the Purple Haired Girl as we emerge from Sheargate Steps. What is with today and bringing out old
crushes?
On the way Justin and
I stop off in HMV where the sales now appear in full flow as the shop is
rammed. Unlike previous years there
have been no goodies in the sales this Christmas, I guess that’s a symptom of
having sales all year long. Nothing is
special anymore, nothing is sacred.
In the end Justin buys
a boxset of the Bourne movies before we catch up with the others at Costa. Soon after I arrive Steve heads off and it
has been genuinely nice to see him. I don’t
bother getting a drink, instead I just in the corner with the others as we discuss
all our developments. In some ways it
feels hard work, everyone seems shattered.
From here we proceed
onwards and wind up in the Hospital Arms where Chris continues not to drink
which is totally out of character for him causing me some concern for his
wellbeing. Soon he heads home also
leaving only Justin, Helen and I.
All day various
comments have been made about my broken iPhone and I’ve
been telling everyone how it is the one thing about my person that people
comment about and then suddenly the magic of my broken iPhone is displayed as
the girl collecting glasses asks me about it.
I can’t help but feel a more seasoned person could be able to clean up
at this point but in the end I just fall over my words looking foolish in the
process.
Things are definitely
changed. I guess it is a sure-fire sign
now that we are getting old as Justin and I begin discussing at length
accounting for his record label. I always surprise myself when I have the
words of experience to facilitate such requests.
Eventually it comes
time for them to return to Kent and with a long journey ahead of them I feel
quite bad for keeping them out for so long.
This will probably serve as my Christmas highlight and I really
appreciate their efforts to come and visit us in Colchester. This is not something that can be said for a
number of other people.
As we bid farewell to
each other at the crossing on Crouch Street I head back to my parents’ place in
hope of snagging some dinner and sobering up.
I find moderate success in visit.
Tonight there are
reports of Tom heading to Colchester and while I sit watching Beetlejuice at the olds
word comes through for an 8PM meet up at the Hole. This sounds good. Then
Tom adds in following text that the guy I used to do Gringo Records with will be out
tonight too. Now this is something I
can’t stomach so I ditch those chumps.
Why would I want to be in the same room/space as somebody such as that? It just makes no sense? How could it be a fun evening if there is
going to be such a level of tension attached to proceedings? I would seem the Christmas
Eve Massacre has now slipped into post Christmas proceedings as well. At the end of the day it is just some kind
of popularity contest that I am not winning.
Ironically though it
is Steve Coogan night
on BBC2 so in the end I wind up spending it with a Coogan after all.
Choices made.
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