Also known as a drinking party at Shirley’s.

This is how I learn that people have a good time when there’s at least one person willing to make a fool of himself, because it sets the tone for everyone else.

That being young is to be young at heart. That to be young at heart is to laugh deep and laugh regularly.

And that it never hurts to have alcohol to help facilitate the process.

Trolley left his Tuborg in my room tonight, but I purposely didn’t tell him so that I could have a chance to talk with him when he remembered where it was.

Some people turn to pills and things
To help them through the day
To take them up or down or just
To ease the blues away
But me I really want to feel
The ups and downs of life so real
Happy or sad emotions reign
My tears flow just the same

—Lamb, I Cry

I had been trying to write this for nearly a month, but couldn’t get it down until I really listened to the lyrics of I Cry on the walk home past the power lines. I decided to split this up into two separate entries, after realizing that I have two similar ideas in my head, but two very distinct issues. Perhaps it just took a few extra rough days of work to force me to think about this. All the things falling apart that I have to fix, responsibilities, deadlines, and tons of other miscellaneous things are definitely making me think of ways to get the tension out of my arms and shoulders.

Sometimes, when I come home, all I want to do is get piss drunk or mindlessly stoned. Maybe go recklessly buy a bunch of things I don’t need, to make myself feel better for that little amount of time. Sometimes I just feel like doing something irrational, even though I have no idea what or why, simply because I believe it would get my mind of things. And yet I don’t do any of this, especially when I’m having a particularly bad day, because I don’t want to be dependent on anything.

I don’t want to rely on narcotics, or material goods, or self-mutilation, or anything at all to make myself feel better. I want to be sure that I can handle things, no matter what, on my own. I force myself to feel every stressful, miserable, forlorn emotion, so that I know that I can get through them.

Sometimes, every day can be a test. Music and writing are the only things that I allow myself.

And sometimes I have to tell myself that it’s enough.

Last year, I went to a Halloween party dressed as a Super Trooper with Aaron and Wheaties (I have only recently acquired the image), and wound up being drunk out of my skull. I tried not to make the same mistake this year, and seeing as how I don’t really drink anymore, it wasn’t much of a problem.

Instead, Aaron and Karen hosted a small gathering, which I attended, where homemade chicken pot pie was served, and no one dressed in costume.

Tim Hortons is doing its seasonal doughnut, which is a funky looking doughnut with bat and pumpkin sprinkles.

Unfortunately, I had to miss out on a pumpkin carving party, due to a fairly stressful week causing a lack of desire to socialize. Trolley did the Cheat from Homestar Runner, and it turned out pretty well.

En célébration of his new job, Trolley and I headed over to the nearest Oak to grab a pint. I had the chance to try some Hoegaarden White, and it’s one of the most interesting beers I’ve ever tasted. It has a unique hazy yellow colour (which is rather obvious in the picture), due to the fact that it’s unfiltered. There are layers and layers of citrus and spice, which come from coriander and dried Curacao orange peels, that make the finish more sharp than crisp. Not a beer I would generally drink, but definitely an unique taste that anyone should try at least once. alcohol

Left the party after an hour. Some fucking guy, as well as other stuff. Aaron, Karen, Drew and I all bailed at the same time.

It’s too bad, I was hoping to hang out with Christine more, or even talk to Sheri, Emily, Eric, or Katrina a bit. I was expecting to be home past two, but instead I was home before midnight.

I didn’t even bring any alcohol because I didn’t feel like drinking, but after five minutes I was stealing Aaron’s wine.

I had a short discussion with a local lawyer on intellectual property tonight. I figured that it would help me be better prepared for any of the ideas that I’m thinking of bringing to fruition. It was fairly informative, and he treated me to a pitcher at Mike’s Place after.

That’s when I learned that Mike’s Place has Double Diamond on tap. Double Diamond. On tap. At campus.

Uh oh.

I got the chance to go to the Hong Kong Jockey Club country club today, which was quite a privilege. They own the only two horse tracks in Hong Kong, which is home to quite a popular gambling habit. It’s the cheapest country club to be a member of, but also the most exclusive. There’s a maximum of 200 voting members (one has to be a horse breeder to be a voting member), and each voting member can only sponsor two people every year. To be accepted into the club, one needs two sponsors, which my uncle was lucky enough to have many years ago. The treadmills in the workout room all have personal television sets with headphones and cable. Just from parking at the clubhouse, there were tons of Mercedes, Porches, and Audis.

I had some rib eye roast there for lunch. It was the most tender, most juicy, most savoury piece of meat I have ever eaten, well worth the tab I ran on my uncles account. The Cabernet Sauvignon was decent, with a light taste and mellow finish. I thanked him for the meal, and promised him that I’d take him out for lunch one day when I had a job. He looked at me as if such a thing was unnecessary, and that he was simply glad that I had such a pleasurable lunch.

Oddly enough, Pabst Blue Ribbon is one of the cheaper beers here and Budweiser is one of the more expensive. Drinking is simply not part of the culture here, so no one checks for ID since there’s no age limit. There’s a lot of smoking though, mostly for image. People walk around with cigarettes hanging out their mouths, and just have one every now and then, instead of needing cigarette breaks every hour.

I went to dinner with Sonace tonight at the Black Tomato. I ordered what I normally get there, and recommended a seafood dish to Sonace, since he’s a big seafood eater. I had a very interesting red wine with my red meat, but unfortunately I forgot the name of it. There was a slightly sweet start with an unusual fruit flavour, something I didn’t recognize. The wine was bursting with taste and had an amazing, mellow finish. I wanted to see him before I headed off to Hong Kong, to see what he’s been up to. He lost a lot of weight when he stopped playing football, and was sporting a slick pair of glasses. Now he looks like a smart guy, going for his law degree.

Aaron and I tried a “non drinking” test run at the Honest Lawyer yesterday. I’ve never really needed alcohol to have a good time around people like Aaron and Trolley. For some reason I already get pretty hyper and already act crazy around them, like I’m an energy sink. I’ve always viewed alcohol as another tax that I was shelling out for, like cigarettes or lottery tickets for some.

It was good to be more conscious about everything going on and not have to feel like shit the next day. Aaron wants to try giving it up altogether or drinking every other time we go out, but I’m pretty fine with cold turkey. I doubt I can completely give it up, especially since red wine goes with my beef spaghetti so well and the fact that so much alcohol tastes so good by itself, but I’ve never really felt the need to swig the liquid courage. The craving for an occasional binge will always be there, of course, but those are few and far between.

I went out yesterday with Trolley and Wheaties to a sort of gathering at the Cabin. We didn’t know anyone there, and just sat around while the gigantic group of friends there was insipidly superficial and obnoxious. Some idiotic drunk girl kept hitting my head with her arms and body (unintentionally) while she was talking to some guy. Trolley, Wheaties and I downed our beers (I had an EX, which was much better than anything they had on tap with it’s darker, richer flavour, but it started to taste like rust after a while) and headed off to the Dom for some pool instead. Sometimes I just can’t stand people, and yesterday was one of those times.

I did end up going to Ryan’s barbecue, expecting to only know about four people, but actually knowing about half the people there. Aaron and I bought a twelve of Vex, which doesn’t taste like much but at 7% and only $10 for a six it was good enough to get us going. I was able to try some Bitburger which had a nice clean taste. Re-experiencing some Smithwicks, however, left my mouth with a terrible bitter taste. The barbecue was a great time, although after flame cooking my sausages, I’m afraid I won’t be able to go back to my Lean Mean Fat Reducing Grilling Machine. After cooking my steak on a campfire grill last camping trip, I’ve been unable to look at broiling or electric-grilling my steaks in the same way.

By 9:00 pm I was at the Southvale apartments, feeling completely drained. Wheaties made us a pot of coffee while the other kept drinking. Aaron, Wheaties, Trolley, and I fired up a game of Ghettopoly. I got my piece of choice, the pimp, and was owning the southwest corner properties like a…fat kid on cake. Eventually, the crack houses and projects on my best properties won the game, since the vicissitude of unlucky dice rolls gave me the cash money for some maneuverability. A great time.

At one point, Aaron and I shared a Cohiba on the balcony. I was surprised at how light and smooth the cigar tasted, although it had a very tight pull, which made smoking it a bit of a chore.

Double Diamond makes Jeff dehydrated.