2006!

Woohooooooo...

Xmas overall was nice, a pretty relaxed and happy time at home. You can see some of the fascinating photos here if you so wish. I came back up North on the 28th, which turned out to be a bit of a helljourney. First off I realised I'd forgotten my keys. Both Christian and Julie were still away so I wouldn't actually be able to get into my home. Of course my plan was to go to Preston that night anyway, to see some bands play at the 12 Bar with Paul and Sian, so I could get my mum to post them to me for the next day. Except my mobile was still broken and I was stuck on a train...

Then we get to Birmingham, possibly my most hated of all train stations due to the total smoking ban. Nothing makes standing around on a cold train platform for twenty minutes duller than not being able to smoke. That is like a premium smoking opportunity. Of course the other reason I hate Birmingham New Street is that there's invariably some fuck up there that results in me missing my connection. Sure enough this time the train I was on didn't leave till forty minutes after it was meant to, due to technical faults, which meant I'd already missed my connection in Crewe for sure. Plus as half the train wasn't working we all had to stand in the carriages, London Underground-cattle style. So we finally set off and are en route to Crewe when there's a weird bump and the train stops in the middle of fucking nowhere. All the lights go off and then come back on. We stand around for like quarter of an hour before the driver turns up and tells us what's going on. Turns out someone jumped in front of our train and is now somewhere underneath a carriage, so we are stuck there till the transport police turn up "in about twenty minutes". About an hour later we find out we also have to wait for a replacement driver to turn up. Finally we start up again and crawl to the next station, Wolverhampton, where we all get off.

Of course, this having happened just outside Birmingham, we'd blocked the line for other trains and so basically the whole train system through Cheshire and Lancashire is now fucked up. I've got a train to catch in ten minutes time to Crewe to finally hit the last stretch to Preston. I go to phone up my mum at last, plus call Paul to let him know I'm now turning up at half 9 rather than 7.15. While I'm on the phone I later find out that they've made a platform alteration announcement that I don't hear. I find this out when I go back on the platform and see my train pulling up on the platform opposite. Cue comedy John Cleese moment as I run across the bridge saddled down with my various bags full of Xmas gifts and clothes, getting to the other platform just in time to see the train drive off.

I finally got to Preston at about half 10 where I met up with (a by now inebriated) Paul and Sian and we headed to the 12 Bar. We didn't get there till gone 11 and missed all but the last three minutes of the last song by the last band. Then the place closed at midnight. Oh, and the evil witch who runs the Mill is now running the 12 Bar and told me that due to her 18-month-old grudge against me she is going to bar me from the 12 Bar as well.

Fucking hell. Worst day ever.

Well, I guess the guy who jumped in front of our train was probably having a worse day, but you know. Me me me. He can get his own fucking blog.

Anyway, all this palaver left me in the mood for a nice New Year's Eve, which was sadly not to be. I won't go into details but basically a couple of people were vaguely monstrously unthinking about another person's feelings, and the evening (at Dave's) which had started well descended into crying, shouting and fighting. I felt like I'd wandered onto the Corrie set by accident. We had meant to be going to Pete's in Manchester but Dave kind of whinged us out of it at the last minute, something for which I am apparently to blame according to a sulky cellist, I did kind of think during the evening that if we'd gone it wouldn't have all blown up. But I guess it probably would have just happened at a later point anyway. Humans, eh?

Anyway, so it is now 2006. I don't have any resolutions, I don't believe in them. I do think I better get on with getting a job, but that's more of a presentment than a resolution. I think it's probably time to admit that your money situation has reached an untenable point when someone mentions how hospitals will pay you a couple of grand to let trainee surgeons stop your heart and you start thinking it might be a good idea.

I leave you with some words of wisdom.