cutriver

Thursday night, I went out and got drunk. We had the external examiners in to finalize the students' grades and, after a long day of meetings, myself, HD, the Head of School (i.e. my Boss) and the French and German external examiners (both of whom live in Ireland, where they like a drink) went out to watch the football (England vs Switzerland followed by France vs Croatia) and drink. This is precisely the kind of straight, macho, middle-aged evening I have been wanting to avoid.
I:
- accepted and bought drinks I didn't want
- bought a pack of cigarettes and smoked several of them (the first time I've done this since March)
- spent money I don't have
- was refused entry to a nightclub for being too drunk
- and by the end of the evening was barely able to keep my head off the table or my eyes open and was advised by a Young Woman that it was time I went home.

Now, I seem to spend a lot of time in this journal berating myself for my lack of resistance to intoxicating and habit-forming substances, which is a bit Bridget Jones of me and must be rather tiresome for you, but fuck, I am disgusted by my performance on Thursday night. And, moreover, I am genuinely horrified at the thought that I used to behave like this twice a week, every week without fail for the whole three years of my PhD. In retrospect, it seems clear to me that the pervasive sense I had, around the year 2000, that my life was over, in the sense of being unlikely to reserve many more surprises, was almost entirely attributable to alcohol. And, further, that the sexual inertia that has paralysed my life for the past few years is also largely down to booze. If alcohol in the short term makes me more flirtatious and uninhibited, its long-term effect on my sex life has been catastrophic, sapping my energy and sense of self-worth. I hate it and I want it out of my life.

The Red Hot Chili Peppers had it right when they sang:
'The medicated
state of mind
you'll find
is over-rated'
(- 'Fortune faded')

I am, however, happy to report that the new album by Fennesz makes particularly fine hangover listening. The nauseous, aqueous shifts of Fennesz's guitar loops and phases complement the shimmering petroleum haze of a Stella hangover really rather well...

So anyway, I was too ill to leave the house on Friday.

Since then I've been working on an assignment for this Postgraduate Teaching Certificate i'm obliged to complete, and seen a couple of movies:
- the beautifully framed Uzak (beautifully framed, but I nearly fell asleep at one point...)
- and the obscure and really rather daft Japanese horror comedy Haunted School.

Friends, what am I doing with my life, y'know?