Went into town on Friday for dinner at Henry's to celebrate the presence in London of his tutor from UPenn, the very Miss Jennifer Siegal - historian, friend of the gays and all round dinner party legend. Also had the pleasure of finally getting to know Amy's new(ish) man, Neil, he's taking the photo below so will be spared blushes. Although Amy wasn't. Neil got to hear any sordid detail of her history we could dredge up. She was less than impressed - our tongues were loosened by booze and her anger was inflamed by it. More of which later. Had a lovely time, ate delicious food and drank enough alcohol to wipe out a small Russian village (and them's folks is hardy). Think our alcohol consumption has long passed 'out of control'. There was a review in one of the TV guides about the Australian version of Come Dine with Me, which they showed here last week. The review was all 'of course one of the major differences between the UK and Australia is the amount of alcohol some hostesses feel the need to provide' and went on to list a HUGE amount of alcohol (one of the items was about 60 shots of vodka ... for four people) that one of the women had provided at her night. Anywho, when I first read it I seriously thought 'hmmmm I'd probably get a bit more wine than that'. Here we all are enjoying the light buzz of alcohol:
And here's Richard providing a useful representation of the state we [not including Jenny obv!] were all in by the end of the night:
Charming no? I'm seriously thinking about giving up drinking. Normally once suitably sloshed all the gays slope off to a local club and have a dance, although on this occasion we thought it better if Richard didn't leave the house. Obviously I normally end up making a fool of myself and consequently feel shame-faced and guilty the next day. This time I did nothing untoward and still woke up feel shameful and embarrassed the next day. I might be too old now. Not saying I'm not going to toast my friends successes from now on, but I do think I should have more diversity in my life than seeking oblivion on a weekend. And its not exactly cheap. Doig ended up going home with a guy who robbed him of his phone, £150 in cash, a bottle of vodka and his dignity when exiting his house in the a.m. If I felt shameful I can't imagine how Doig was feeling. I ended the night by having a long intense chat with Henry. Seemed all very important and relevant at the time but retrospectively it was at least 30% drunken rambling and I'm sure we both said things we'd rather not have said, or at least found better ways to say them.
So all in all I am thinking alcohol = evil.
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