I’m writing to you from bed. I’ve been here since 3pm.
As
I got in from Paralympic shift 2 of 9 it dawned on me that a bank holiday boozy bender in Manchester was perhaps not the best mental or physical
preparation for this madness. But no matter, it will all be over soon and I’ll
be stuck back behind a desk so I’m going to enjoy as much as possible while
it lasts!
I had decided to venture up to Manchester after
cancelling a couple of weekend shifts. I thought I’d take some peppermint tea
and we’d watch X-Factor and Total Wipeout and an array of appalling DVDs (has
anyone seen August Rush??) and generally chill out and reminisce away not just
a duvet-day but a whole duvet-weekend.
But no. Ooooohh no. Silly, silly me.
Before I’d even arrived at Euston for the train to
Manchester I’d been told I was buying a weekend wristband for the whole of the
Pride weekend. Good job I’d had that haircut I had needed, and had packed a few
suitable clothes!
I can’t imagine I’ll tell you all about the weekend.
Probably because a lot of it is blurry…
Friday looked promising… We were staying in! Alas, off we
trotted to the local Sainsburys to stock
up on the ingredients to make a huge vat of mojito! And you can see the result
here… rum, ice, soda, sugar, mint and lime. In a Union Jack bin. Classy
bitches.
On Saturday morning we left Withington and headed in totown to watch the Pride parade. SO MANY PEOPLE. So many in fact I felt quite overwhelmed
but Jenla was on hand to thrust a Strongbow in my direction and so, it began. I
was supposed to go back to Withington at some point to change and see
X-Factor(!) and pre-drink, but that didn’t happen. In fact, I didn’t make it back
until after 5am on Sunday. Instead, I flitted from group to group and bar to
bar meeting up with lots of people I’d not seen in months. Which was totally
excellent, of course! But, when you have a drink at every stop it becomes easy
to understand why the rest of the night was a blur.
Sunday required a serious Nando’s.
After we’d smashed that chicken’s back doors in we headed
into town to an apartment-hotel where some friends were staying. Beer and
brandy came next. Then there was dancing – oh how I love to dance – and singing
and that was still at the apartment!
Sunday night I ended my Pride celebrations in the only
way I know how – in Coyotes dancing next to the speakers so I can feel closer
to Lady Gaga – idiot.
But a happy idiot.
On Monday I woke up and couldn’t find anyone at the
house. Well, Rose was there but definitely several bodies missing! At 11 I got
a phone call – they were alive, phew! – and all at the apartment. So I gathered
my belongings, unable to believe that it was time to head back south already. We
rendezvoused on the Canal, said some friendly goodbyes, headed for some much
needed food (how good is Barburrito?!) then for the train.
Crackin’ time. Good one girls!
Wouldn't say I was particularly proud. Definitely pissed.
So here I am, back in full swing of ‘lympic-mania.
Unfortunately for you, since I missed a week's post I didn’t get
to tell you all about my fun weekend at Primrose Hill and at a seminar about algorithms
and metadata…………. We'll skip that I think.
Until next time,
Bren x
More pic from this weekend and last:
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