“The Best Man that Gethin could find…”

We accepted the offer of a chance to hear Dunk’s speech at Hazelgreen. After all, we weren’t going to the wedding. I’d never heard a best man’s speech before; at weddings that I’ve been to, there hasn’t ever been one. If the average standard is as high as that Dunk put forward, I’ve really been missing out.

Skyride

These scars I earned...

Bicycles, bicycles, bicycles, everywhere you looked, bicycles! Dunk and I chatted merrily around the Skyride route from Castlefield up to Sportcity and back again. Afterwards, we still had the hunger to ride, so headed down the canal and out on the NCN Route towards Dunham Massey.

Happy Birthday Dunk!

I wonder if you'll have as much fun this year as you did last year!

Bluetones

The fifteenth time I've seen them? New material sounds good.

Trefor, Llyn, Ed's birthday

To celebrate Ed’s birthday, we all went camping to Anglesey. The roster was as follows: Ed; Miriam; Thom; Patti; Ali; Sam; Ben P; Yos; Dunk; Laura; me; someone who wasn’t very friendly whose name escapes me; Owain the climber. Laura and I ran into Dunk in the big Tesco at Bangor, and we conspired on what food to pack. The weather was lovely, and we pitched the tent in the sunshine.

We cooked a barbecue on the beach, and then huddled around a fire made from driftwood as the night drew in.

Graham reveals himself to be a schmuck

At lunch with Louise, my phone rang. It was Dunk. He sounded angry, flustered, in a way that I totally wasn’t used to. Something happened at last week’s party – the party that I’d been at with Kate – and it had really gotten under Dunk’s skin. Dunk’s generally a very cool customer, so this was serious.

“It’s Graham. At that party last week, he tried to force himself onto Kate – tried to kiss her – but Kate wasn’t interested, so she said no. And then Graham got aggressive, and started calling her names. Shouting at her and calling her a slag.”

My jaw hit the floor. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t get my head around the situation. I was shocked. And, from within, I could feel myself becoming enraged. I can’t remember what I mumbled to Dunk, only that he carried on…

Wizard’s Sleeve, F.L.A.M.E ,Clown’s Pocket and so on

The scratch-marks down my back burned all evening; it had been an intense afternoon. I headed home after we’d eaten spaghetti, and went to ready myself for Eileen’s 30th birthday. Dunk and Kate were sat at the kitchen table when I arrived, eating pizza. We chewed the fat over a cider, and it was lovely.

Fucking shopping

I had never, until today, filled a large shopping trolley until it was overflowing. I had never, until today, spent more than £150 in a single trip to the supermarket. Asda! A world of firsts.

An unexpected, but welcome guest.

Steve, our builder, pronounces Chaw’s name as “Chew,” as in mastication. He came round with his son to make the repairs and improvements that the police had recommended. As I was helping him to move in a fencing panel, Laura and Emma showed up outside my house. “I was locked out of my house,” said Laura, “in my pyjamas. Can I hang out with you?”

I come from the land of the ice and snow

We were sent home early from college last night because of snow. I thought that Gerard was being overly cautious. Waking up this morning to five or six inches*, however, has rather changed my mind. I strapped on my boots, and stomped on outside. “There’s no buses,” said the woman at the stop, “I’ve been here since half seven.”

Gifts and curry

Amazon has been my life-line this Christmas. Most of my shopping has been delivered in brown boxes to my desk at work. The last of them, for Pippa, arrived today. It’s an amazingly tacky Dizzee Rascal necklace that’s shaped like a guitar pick (picture after the jump). I wrapped it at my desk, and arranged to meet Pip at her work to exchange gifts.

"Wanna play in our FIFA skull league?"

I wish I wasn't at college. :(

Next question...

Graham from Quizimodo and I had been plotting another surprise for Kate’s birthday. During the quiz, we schemed, Graham would invite the audience – the patrons of Oddest – to wish Kate a Happy Birthday, to sing it to her, to fire off party poppers, and to share in some cake. It was an extension of what I’d tried to arrange with Nicola last week.

I went down to the bar to see it all first hand. I blustered through my reasons for being there – “Oh I’m just a bit bored, that’s all, I thought I’d pop in for an hour…” – and settled to watch the fun unfold. It worked a treat. In between rounds two and three, the surprise was unleashed. Bravo!

I went home, and met Dunk. He’d been revising for his interview, and wanted me to go over some of the answers with him. “You don’t mind, do you mate?” he asked. Not at all. I found out a lot about computer games, and in particular about their production process, and it was really interesting. We didn’t exactly run a mock interview, but we structured our conversation around the person spec for the job. I think it helped. Good luck Dunk!

Life is not all cake and owl.

The pizza party wheel just keeps on turning, and the pizza party wagon rolls on and on and on. Building on the good work of the party with the Padmores and the one with Megan, the third shindig was AWESOME!

We had guests: Champ; Paulina; Laura; Rory; Laura; Pippa; Hannah.

We had games: Pass the Parcel; Talking Heads.

We had cake. Home-made, hand-decorated owl cake.

Pippa and Paulina took steps towards peace between each other (maybe via a two-state solution?) by finding common ground over Twin Peaks. Pass the Parcel went down very well – generosity won hearts and minds all around the room. And then Dunk unveiled the cake. Triumphant! Kate’s face said it all.

Undercover bakers

Three days worth of hangover hit me square in the face this morning. I felt rotten, and had a busy day to come: the first meeting with my mentor, and a trip out to Salford to talk policy with a partner. Did I smell like booze? I hoped not. And then college later on too? You’ll be lucky. I decided to cut class.

Yesterday I’d arranged to drop off my keys at Dunk’s as part of a plan to support his stealthy baking of a cake for Kate. One problem: last night Kate had said she was staying at his – if she saw my Stormtrooper keyring on the doormat as she left, would it give the game away? Far too risky.

Break on through to the other side

Bleugh! After our heavy, heavy night in Chorlton, I had a spectacular hangover. Kate did too. Unfortunately, Kate had to go to work at 8am, and then go dancing to celebrate her own birthday that evening. I was able, thankfully, to stay in bed.

Lucian called, explaining that he was in town, and asking if I fancied joining him for a pint. Yes, I thought, why not? Because you feel rough as arses, and very dehydrated? Not good enough! We met in the Northern, and enjoyed a few pints in the company of Jamie. Jamie, a teacher, had raised two butterflies in his class at school. The kids had named one of them Michael Jackson. Pun king Lucian was soon riffing away - "It don't matter if you're Cabbage White." Jamie pointed out that these puns were amongst the least transferrable of all gags because they were so specifically tied to the concept of a butterfly named Michael Jackson. Four pints and many laughs later, we said farewell and I shot back to Stretford.

I don't know how Kate managed to push through her tiredness, but after some booze in the house, we were out again. In the Sand Bar, we ended up divided into two groups: Chaw's friends and Kate's friends. Danesh Ali, Miriam, the Padmores and several others showed up at once, which furthered the wedge between the two halves of the party. So it goes, I guess. When it came to moving to a dancing place, Chaw and her friends elected to drink at the Deaf Institute, while we trooped to the Tiger Lounge. Robbie was there, and Champ too. We danced and drank and danced some more. It was - I think - a brilliant occasion. I think, because my drunken memories are vague... Karaoke at 3am... Chips... Another hangover approaching...?

Second Hand News

Kate and I met for beers in Pi. Unfortunately, those beers were 7.5% ciders, and we were both quite drunk quite quickly. Not a bad thing, despite it being a Wednesday night. We talked about Ventenac, and about murder, and – as the cider flowed – about matters of the heart. Of my heart, in fact.

I’ve had a soft spot for Kate’s friend Nicola for a while. She’s a fellow Belle and Sebastian fan, and she’s very attractive. Kate speaks very highly of her, and I trust Kate's judgement very much. We'd talked about how I felt a couple of times, but never in much detail. I saw Nicola’s housemate on the bus this morning, and I‘d seen her the day before too, in the evening. Unusual, I thought, so I texted Kate about it.

Kate and Nicola had been talking, said Kate, and I’d come up in the conversation. A bit about Ventenac, a bit about murder, a bit about my bus rides. Whilst nothing had been said directly, Nicola might be, Kate thought, interested in me. How exciting!

We carried on drinking until Dunk joined us, grumpy about the football. He didn’t really fancy a beer, but Kate and I were very much in the mood to carry on. We poured two large gins, and put on Rumours loud. It was late by now. 1am?

Matt came downstairs and asked us to turn the music down. I felt sheepish, and drank some more gin.

Yes, I shall become a bat.

The journey north felt like a journey deeper into the autumn. Trees near London seemed greener, those nearer Macclesfield more brown. I love this time of year.

The 85 came before the 86, so I slipped into Oddest to touch base with Kate. “I’ve pinned a note to your door,” said Kate, “which says that we’re going to a party. A fancy dress party. Can you find yourself a costume?”

Costume ideas had been floating around my head since the Pemberton Towers party announcement. The theme for that party is Literature, and I’d flirted with the idea of going as a raven, after the Poe poem. Could I do something related?

Yes, I shall become a bat.

I cut wing shapes out of one old black shirt, and sewed them onto the undersides of the arms of another. The bat-shirt will serve me well as the base of my raven shirt –a few feathers and I’m away. With a little help from Dunk, I became a top-hatted, long-eared, wing-tipped, armpit-flapped bat.

We went to Whalley Range with Paulina, to a party where we knew barely a soul. I think I was pissed enough (or short-circuited enough through sleep deprivation and hangovers) to mumble on through various inane conversations before I started to enjoy myself. Little Laura and Roisin were there, and it was nice to talk to Kate Bell too. I met some interesting people, and some very drunk people too.

Kate and I rolled in at about 6am. A heavy night, but a good one.

"I'm-a Wario, I'm-a gonna splatt-a this-a pie in your face"

After a failed attempt at making its guts into a pie, we carved Wario into this pumpkin to the sound of Disney tunes, then Kate splatted the pie in my face. Good times.

Happy birthday to Lu

As I was walking to the shops to buy some eggs, I texted Lucinda, wishing her a happy birthday . "Oh DTRMCR thank you v much what a memory!" she replied. Several of my friends - Zoe, Jordanna, John M - and acquaintances - Nic, Jon Lyall, Lucinda - share a birthday on this date. And after last year - when Paul, Dunk and I saw Mark Morriss at the museum, then met Lu and Liz and all at Trof - how could I forget? Sometimes I think that having a blog means I'll never forget a significant moment again.

Nostalgia swept over me, and I found myself drifting into the mind of myself a year ago. It's been a period of great change for me.

This time last year I lived with Paul on the West Didsbury side of Withington. Since then I've lived in two different houses in Chorlton, and with five and a half different people. Five and half, because I have three official housemates in Stretford, but I think Dunk should figure in the count too. Ryan replaced Paul in some ways, and not in others. Domestic affairs have had a massive impact on my daily happiness, a fact most demonstrated by how happy I feel now at 106. Living with Kate is brilliant. Big changes. Good changes.

This time last year I was dating Liz, though in hindsight it was quite clearly coming to an end by the now of 2008. Since then we've broken up. Actually we've broken up twice, or three times, depending on how you count things. There was that awful situation in November and December, and the tears we wept afterwards. Beautiful, brave Lizzie. In between, a brief fun month of Stephanie. Over the summer, an ill-advised dalliance with Miss F from work, and the odd handful of flesh and nothingness now and then. Another important factor happiness-wise. Liz was the biggest deal for me romantically since Rigby, and in some ways more so. For example, sometimes it felt like I was dating a woman, rather than a girl. I don't know if I've learned anything about romance in the last year. Muddle on, blind man, beware the ditches out there...

This time last year I had two prominently chipped teeth in the front of my face. Lucinda, the birthday girl, fixed them for me. Looking back at 2009, I think having my teeth repaired will be the main thing that other people remember about my year. Everytime I clean my teeth in the morning I think of, and feel thankful for, Lucinda's amazing generosity and kindness. I feel like my smile works better now, and I'm much more confident about using it. Lessons? Erm...? Use interdental brushes?

This time last year I was starting to hate my job. Despise my job in fact. Lack of purpose was the main cause, and mostly down to the hand that was on the tiller. Since then, things have got worse, and then much worse, and then steadily better. Studying for my Market Research qualification, and the management course I started last month, has kept my mind busy. And my colleagues see what I see too. I feel much more in control of things at this stage than I did this time last year.

Running. That's new too. Cycling. Yup. Owning Batman comic books too. Good new.

My blog was two years old about a week ago. I'd wanted to do a Year Two summary to commemorate it, but I didn't remember the exact date, and ended up missing it. I wonder what Lucinda would think about my memory if she knew.