Dear Diary,
I am home from a stag party. Maybe I'll tell the story backwards.
Friday
The evening involved working, it was a big event, a corporate client that a friend of mine works for actually. In addition, I finished slightly early so I got home nicely with more time to warm down. I had been excited about this weekend for a while now. On reflection, it lived up to and exceeded my hopes. Just a perfect, stunning, amazing series of events. I went to sleep and I can't even remember if i jacked off that night. I was pretty tired but I also stayed up late.
Saturday
I was so excited that I got up and left an hour earlier to Brighton. I then walked around for a bit before catching a few of the guys. I didn't know many of them but I did enjoy getting to know them. We went go-Karting in Lancing and had a great time. I had some jason statham moves that day but also we lost pretty badly to everyone else. I still had fun, niggling issue with my cousin's husband. The guy has control issues but everyone is different and in small doses I like him. A whole day? That's a different matter.
So after go-karting and a bit of banter, we were in a hotel type situation. Great accomodation, the shower was infinitely refreshing and I also enjoyed the company of these guys. I was the youngest of the stag party and I think the only single one. I also flirted the least. I'm comfortable with that, well, mostly. We went to a nice pub/bar and played pool, watched the champions league final, then went to a club. I had a nice heart to heart with my brother in law and I do often find it hard to connect with him. I have to say that without my sister around he's a different guy. There were a lot of heart to heart moments between the guys, my cousin marrying my brothers' best friend is a powerful thing. My brother's friend (lets call him Albert), has been a dear family friend for a long time. In addition we've supported him through his father's ill health eventual passing and darker times. It's fair to say that we all love him very much. I saw Albert's uncles, my dad used to work in the same organisation as Albert's dad, before the cancer took him out of work. The uncles know my dad after my parents have been around for Albert's dad and mother. Albert's dad's death anniversary was on friday. I didn't really know the man, but my brother did and my dad also; his memory is beloved to all those who knew him well it seems.
Sunday
I got home late, but 'early' compared to the other guys. I went into a corner shop on my own after splitting with my brother who was also going home, so that I could get some junk food (I'm all about the fish and chips). I ended up eating haribo with crisps on my balls and then woke up a few hours later at 8am. I had a tea with a guy who I shared a room with and we had a good chat. In this weekend, my anxiety was not so bad, it was almost not present. I think not having to worry about money helped, I think also having a smart phone that can tell me if i'm lost how to get back also helped. Ithelped that I didn't take a jacket and I didn't pack my pockets. It helped that even though I packed light, I packed comprehensively.
I wanted to go for a walk, I did, I went on the waterfront and threw pebbles on my own. I enjoyed the solitary moment of quietude and reflection. There was something awfully romantic and inspired about being in Brighton, the bright sea air, the smell of cod and batter and the vast openness of an empty sky in front of you as you face the sea. Living in London makes my thinking closed, systematic and methodical, out there I could be free. All the technology and gadgets and frills of london for me seem just as a novelty of getting out of the drudgery of urban urbanity. There was something beautiful that almost brought me to tears about the place. Call me soppy.
I was playing a lot on my smartphone that weekend. I also got a message from Cute Redhead that I asked out a few weeks ago, she said she wasn't on okcupid much lately cos she's sick of the website, but she's interested in doing stuff with me. After my solitary walk, I had to meet up with the guys again to get a smoothie, I got a mistaken reading from the google maps app and I also was covered in sweat as I ventured up a massive hill, I finally got my cod fix at Harry Ramsdens (omg so good) and then we had a proper lunch altogether, with Albert's uncles and my uncles. My parents are away and that's why my dad didn't make it.
My brother was kind enough to let me go home in his car, we stopped off at his friend's house (who was with us at the weekend). I got home and I had a bit of an emotional come down. I guess you could call it an emotional hangover. I felt a bit sad after such fun times and the big rush of being friendly with new people and doing things together then faded as I realised I had to get back to my real life. Not even the fact that I'm alone for a week kept the buzz. So I then went to sleep for about 3-4 hours and it was 11pm when I woke. The feeling of waking up at night is a little depressing and a little bit lonely.
Monday
So I'm back to reality. I've got a book review to finish. I've got to send off my shifts for June. I've got to apply to jobs, I've got to get a job, I've got to get a life.
One step at a time. Being around those guys and having something to smile about does give me a vital pick-me-up.
Onwards
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