Also known as dilantin. Also known as the reason my alcohol intake will be sharply reduced over the next twelve months. Bloody seizure medication, when they're not able to pinpoint any specific reason for the damned things - I think it is stress related, and I can work to avoid stress without resorting to medication, but I'm not the medical expert, am I?
And not even really going to go into the whole freedom of choice thing - it's my body and if I don't want to take meds, which will impact on my socialising (err, drinking), why should I have to? How much does it actually cost every once in a while to be carted to hospital, or, as happened in Canada, just go to the doctor a few days later rather than the emergency ward? It's not a drinking thing, it's a freedom of choice thing, but I am sure that if I proceed with that argument, I will sound more and more like a drunkard :)
Sooo, the year long experiment is on, again. It got started in 2004, but, of course, I wasn't allowed to be on Medicare then, damned Kiwis just coming over here and abusing the Australian medical system, so, with the cost of the prescriptions and doctor's visits and all, I kind of opted out about three months in. This time I'm thinking I will give it a better bash than last time around, and can actually get subsidised doctor's visits as well.
Anyways, brave new world and all that - went out socialising last night, with workmates, trying not to use alcohol as a crutch, what with the abovementioned meds. The invite went out to two of the teams on the floor, but from my team I was the only one to turn up. Of course, we only got two days advance notice - the email for my 'too old for a quarter life crisis event', aka 30th birthday 'party', will go out a bit longer than forty eight hours ahead of whatever I decide to plan - but still, one person out of a team of twelve, that's pretty umm crap.
Maybe it was because the idea came from the other team. Sometimes I think that, even though we all do the same job, there is just a bit too much us and them on the floor, even between two almost identical teams with the same job roles. So from the other side of the Iron Curtain, we had LDU, CMC, DLU, SSU, AMA and LJA.
We started off at the Zen Bar, above Post Office Square on Adelaide Street - have walked past it dozens of times, but have never gone in. It's a lot bigger than it appears on the outside, and it looks pretty classy - or poncey, depending on the level of cynicism in your mood LOL. We stayed there for a couple of drinks - yes, I did have two beers there, and a coke - while the group started peeling away. By eightish, it was just LDU, CMC and myself, and the other two were ready to kick on and I was ready to follow.
We headed over to the Down Under Bar, but were told that there was a private student function on. We headed to the bar next door, I had another beer (I know, I know, it was only a half pint though), and by sneakily heading to the bathrooms that were deviously set in the corridor leading to the actual Down Under Bar, we figured we could get past the elaborate security set up on the actual door. For some reason am thinking Tom Cruise out of Mission Impossible or Catherine Zeta Jones out of Entrapment, with the laser wires and such :)
Although the Down Under was full of people, and some of them were quite attractive, it was a bit depressing for me. Because it is right underneath a backpackers' hostel, it has quite an international flavour. That wasn't the depressing bit though, it was as if I had been transported back to those Aussie Kiwi or traveller bars in London.
Exactly the same kind of set up, flags over the walls, messages on the chalkboards written by people from London or France or Germany or the States, saying how great a time they had been having in Australia, if we had been there earlier in the evening, I am sure the rugby or football (soccer I mean) or gridiron would have been on the 'big screens', the same thumping music after the sport. Is it just me, or is that a well founded stereotype of backpacker pubs around the world?
And, taking me back to London was the thought of how out of place I had felt at the Walkabout or Maple Leaf or Polar Bear in Covent Garden. Not the whole thing of being out of place being a Kiwi in those places, but out of place as in by myself, lying almost every time that I had 'lost' my friends - luckily, this was in the time before widespread cellphone use, meaning although it was still a pretty weak excuse, it wouldn't be as weak as if I tried it nowadays - and the whole pressure to socialise, and all the blood sweat and tears that went into simply getting a girl's phone number. I wasn't aiming for the bedroom at all, just a phone number was the extent of my ambition.
And being in the Down Under took me right back to Covent Garden. Or Shepherds Bush. Or the time I went to Wembley to see the All Blacks play Wales , after the game stopping off at a bar somewhere north of the Thames. Or the mythical status of the Church at Kings Cross, which I never ended up actually getting into. The feeling of excruciating embarrassment of being in London all by myself, more likely to meet someone from Lower Hutt than a Brit. I preferred going out with workmates, English workmates, to English pubs in the 'suburbs' of Croydon, than to the fake Antipodeoness of the backpacker bars.
And the All Blacks lost five tests in a row in 1998. When I was saying to my English workmates 'the best team in the world' blah blah blah.
It's funny how easy it all comes flooding back. I just felt the Down Under was like the Walkabout last night, and wasn't comfortable about it, but start writing down thoughts and feelings here and it vomits itself all out. And I could keep going if I wanted to - which I won't, for any reader who has made it this far, for their sake.
I had a couple of pints - of coke, at the Walkab - oh, I mean Down Under. Just scanning the crowd, listening to the music, seeing LDU crack onto her newest German friend. CMC was checking his watch every two minutes to check how close to 10.30 it was, that being the start of cover charging at The Beat in the Valley. He was headed out the door by himself - I was staying at the Down Under, but probably not for much longer, when LDU asked her German whether he wouldn't mind going to a gay bar. He said it would be fine, and we headed out to find a taxi.
Gay bars, so much less pressure placed on my neurons than backpacker places. I am sure I enjoyed the London backpacker places at the time, but looking back at how twisted up in knots I got almost as soon as the sports events I had come in to watch had ended, but no, I was going to end whinging about that wasn't I?
We got in well before cover charges kicked in, and CMC and I headed onto the dancefloor. Dancing to Steps Tragedy of all things - Steps, the Hi 5 of the music world LOL. Before CMC and a friend started dancing more closely together. Less pressure if you feel you want to get up and dance, less pressure to just take a break from said dancefloor if a guy comes up and takes your dance partner away LOL.
I got a coke, and headed out to the 'garden bar' where smoking is still allowed. I finally tracked down LDU and her friend, who were very friendly together - he was due to go driving over the weekend for three weeks up to Darwin and then down to Adelaide, but I have a sneaky suspicion that LDU has talked him out of that - she had a week off work next week anyways. Very friendly together indeed.
CMC came and found us, with one of his exes in tow. I had another coke, we chatted for a bit more, and at about quarter to twelve I decided to hit the road. Had a big teary farewell from LDU, about how she hopes that I think of her as a good friend and all - apparently she was worried that by telling the ambos who turned up at work that I had had a seizure two years ago, she was abusing my trust or something - it has been bugging her ever since apparently. I said of course not, I was in no state of mind to tell the paramedics important information like that, but she was crying a bit, and I'm not sure how much made it through - she had had a few vodka cruisers - but it was all OK when I left. Said a quicker goodbye to CMC as well :)
Headed up to New York Slice for a piece of the New York Original - was kind of strange walking through Brunswick Street at that time of night sober LOL. Welcome to the year ahead, Pauly. Caught the 12.10 train from the Valley, and got home at about quarter to one.
One final thing with the London memories - when I was in London I think there were only three Walkabout pubs. Just looked on their website and there are like 48 of them now! Geez, I feel old.
No doubt there will be more 'that's how we did it in the old days, and how great but somehow stupid my time in London was' but that will put a lid on it for now :)
Pauly
And not even really going to go into the whole freedom of choice thing - it's my body and if I don't want to take meds, which will impact on my socialising (err, drinking), why should I have to? How much does it actually cost every once in a while to be carted to hospital, or, as happened in Canada, just go to the doctor a few days later rather than the emergency ward? It's not a drinking thing, it's a freedom of choice thing, but I am sure that if I proceed with that argument, I will sound more and more like a drunkard :)
Sooo, the year long experiment is on, again. It got started in 2004, but, of course, I wasn't allowed to be on Medicare then, damned Kiwis just coming over here and abusing the Australian medical system, so, with the cost of the prescriptions and doctor's visits and all, I kind of opted out about three months in. This time I'm thinking I will give it a better bash than last time around, and can actually get subsidised doctor's visits as well.
Anyways, brave new world and all that - went out socialising last night, with workmates, trying not to use alcohol as a crutch, what with the abovementioned meds. The invite went out to two of the teams on the floor, but from my team I was the only one to turn up. Of course, we only got two days advance notice - the email for my 'too old for a quarter life crisis event', aka 30th birthday 'party', will go out a bit longer than forty eight hours ahead of whatever I decide to plan - but still, one person out of a team of twelve, that's pretty umm crap.
Maybe it was because the idea came from the other team. Sometimes I think that, even though we all do the same job, there is just a bit too much us and them on the floor, even between two almost identical teams with the same job roles. So from the other side of the Iron Curtain, we had LDU, CMC, DLU, SSU, AMA and LJA.
We started off at the Zen Bar, above Post Office Square on Adelaide Street - have walked past it dozens of times, but have never gone in. It's a lot bigger than it appears on the outside, and it looks pretty classy - or poncey, depending on the level of cynicism in your mood LOL. We stayed there for a couple of drinks - yes, I did have two beers there, and a coke - while the group started peeling away. By eightish, it was just LDU, CMC and myself, and the other two were ready to kick on and I was ready to follow.
We headed over to the Down Under Bar, but were told that there was a private student function on. We headed to the bar next door, I had another beer (I know, I know, it was only a half pint though), and by sneakily heading to the bathrooms that were deviously set in the corridor leading to the actual Down Under Bar, we figured we could get past the elaborate security set up on the actual door. For some reason am thinking Tom Cruise out of Mission Impossible or Catherine Zeta Jones out of Entrapment, with the laser wires and such :)
Although the Down Under was full of people, and some of them were quite attractive, it was a bit depressing for me. Because it is right underneath a backpackers' hostel, it has quite an international flavour. That wasn't the depressing bit though, it was as if I had been transported back to those Aussie Kiwi or traveller bars in London.
Exactly the same kind of set up, flags over the walls, messages on the chalkboards written by people from London or France or Germany or the States, saying how great a time they had been having in Australia, if we had been there earlier in the evening, I am sure the rugby or football (soccer I mean) or gridiron would have been on the 'big screens', the same thumping music after the sport. Is it just me, or is that a well founded stereotype of backpacker pubs around the world?
And, taking me back to London was the thought of how out of place I had felt at the Walkabout or Maple Leaf or Polar Bear in Covent Garden. Not the whole thing of being out of place being a Kiwi in those places, but out of place as in by myself, lying almost every time that I had 'lost' my friends - luckily, this was in the time before widespread cellphone use, meaning although it was still a pretty weak excuse, it wouldn't be as weak as if I tried it nowadays - and the whole pressure to socialise, and all the blood sweat and tears that went into simply getting a girl's phone number. I wasn't aiming for the bedroom at all, just a phone number was the extent of my ambition.
And being in the Down Under took me right back to Covent Garden. Or Shepherds Bush. Or the time I went to Wembley to see the All Blacks play Wales , after the game stopping off at a bar somewhere north of the Thames. Or the mythical status of the Church at Kings Cross, which I never ended up actually getting into. The feeling of excruciating embarrassment of being in London all by myself, more likely to meet someone from Lower Hutt than a Brit. I preferred going out with workmates, English workmates, to English pubs in the 'suburbs' of Croydon, than to the fake Antipodeoness of the backpacker bars.
And the All Blacks lost five tests in a row in 1998. When I was saying to my English workmates 'the best team in the world' blah blah blah.
It's funny how easy it all comes flooding back. I just felt the Down Under was like the Walkabout last night, and wasn't comfortable about it, but start writing down thoughts and feelings here and it vomits itself all out. And I could keep going if I wanted to - which I won't, for any reader who has made it this far, for their sake.
I had a couple of pints - of coke, at the Walkab - oh, I mean Down Under. Just scanning the crowd, listening to the music, seeing LDU crack onto her newest German friend. CMC was checking his watch every two minutes to check how close to 10.30 it was, that being the start of cover charging at The Beat in the Valley. He was headed out the door by himself - I was staying at the Down Under, but probably not for much longer, when LDU asked her German whether he wouldn't mind going to a gay bar. He said it would be fine, and we headed out to find a taxi.
Gay bars, so much less pressure placed on my neurons than backpacker places. I am sure I enjoyed the London backpacker places at the time, but looking back at how twisted up in knots I got almost as soon as the sports events I had come in to watch had ended, but no, I was going to end whinging about that wasn't I?
We got in well before cover charges kicked in, and CMC and I headed onto the dancefloor. Dancing to Steps Tragedy of all things - Steps, the Hi 5 of the music world LOL. Before CMC and a friend started dancing more closely together. Less pressure if you feel you want to get up and dance, less pressure to just take a break from said dancefloor if a guy comes up and takes your dance partner away LOL.
I got a coke, and headed out to the 'garden bar' where smoking is still allowed. I finally tracked down LDU and her friend, who were very friendly together - he was due to go driving over the weekend for three weeks up to Darwin and then down to Adelaide, but I have a sneaky suspicion that LDU has talked him out of that - she had a week off work next week anyways. Very friendly together indeed.
CMC came and found us, with one of his exes in tow. I had another coke, we chatted for a bit more, and at about quarter to twelve I decided to hit the road. Had a big teary farewell from LDU, about how she hopes that I think of her as a good friend and all - apparently she was worried that by telling the ambos who turned up at work that I had had a seizure two years ago, she was abusing my trust or something - it has been bugging her ever since apparently. I said of course not, I was in no state of mind to tell the paramedics important information like that, but she was crying a bit, and I'm not sure how much made it through - she had had a few vodka cruisers - but it was all OK when I left. Said a quicker goodbye to CMC as well :)
Headed up to New York Slice for a piece of the New York Original - was kind of strange walking through Brunswick Street at that time of night sober LOL. Welcome to the year ahead, Pauly. Caught the 12.10 train from the Valley, and got home at about quarter to one.
One final thing with the London memories - when I was in London I think there were only three Walkabout pubs. Just looked on their website and there are like 48 of them now! Geez, I feel old.
No doubt there will be more 'that's how we did it in the old days, and how great but somehow stupid my time in London was' but that will put a lid on it for now :)
Pauly
No comments:
Post a Comment