If You Write It, They Will Come

. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Apologies to my subscribers, who received a peculiar email yesterday. It was a draft birthday post for a reader who no longer blogs.  I forgot to delete it from my scheduled posts.

Kudos to Patrecia for her tenacity, however: she thought it was my birthday and, when confronted with a 404 page, sent me a Happy Birthday email and left a comment on another post, just to be certain.  Thank you, Patrecia!

Blame my lapse on Saturday night.  My friend Alison, who took me to Spain, has a son about to go off to Germany for several years, to do his Physics PhD at the German equivalent of CERN.  We are all rather proud of him.  His parents threw him a joint birthday/going away party.

I’ve been to parties before; I know they involve late nights and alcohol.   At Alison’s parties, they also involve good food.  I was game for a night out: if you feed me, I will come.  

I got dressed up and everything.  I wore brown because physics has always been brown to me.  I don’t know why.  Chemistry is green and biology is blue.  Is it like that for you?  Or is my brain just remembering the colours of my school exercise books?

ASIDE: While trying to find the name of the place where Phil will be studying in Hamburg, I came across the answer to the question, Has the large Hadron Collider destroyed the world yet?  If you’ve been dying to find out (or want to find out if you’re dying), go here.

The food was great and I drank double my usual ration, having two glasses of dry white wine and one large glass of orange juice, soaked up by curry, Doritos and Alison’s superb puddings.  I began to nod off in my chair around 10:45, but forced myself to stay awake to stop the Hub snarling at guests who dared to ignore the huge chocolate cake in favour of the cheesecake.  If he ever leaves me, it will be for Alison’s cheesecake.  Several times a year and always at Christmas, she makes a cheesecake for the Hub and he becomes one of those slug things which eat their dinner from the inside out.

We had to stay until midnight so we could sing Happy Birthday to Phil, who turned 23 on Sunday.  Then we had to stay until half-past-midnight because it would have been rude to rush off.

When we got home, Molly dog begged us to watch Doctor Who before bed, instead of waiting for Sunday; and Spud wet himself. *

*In my drunken stupor,  I may have confused those two events.

Wee washed, Who watched, I fell into bed around a quarter-to-two and slept until nine-forty a.m.  I slept again for a couple of hours in the afternoon, then had an early night.  I did nothing yesterday and I woke up with a headache this morning.

The Hub calls me a lightweight when it comes to partying.  Tell me he’s wrong.

With Phil’s party, my brown top and The Big Bang Theory, there has been a lot of psychics on my blog lately.  I didn’t see that coming.

I Like Being In This Much Debt

Image via Wikipedia

Describe a debt you have yet to repay.

This one is easy. 

I am blessed with wonderful friends.  Some I have met, some I haven’t.  Most of them haven’t met each other.  The only reason I would like to win the lottery is so that I could throw a huge party one Friday night; fly, bus, or taxi all of my friends in to Stockport; and put us all up in a hotel.  I would do it so that I could say, ‘Thank you for being kind to me.  You don’t know how much it has meant to me, especially on blue days.’

I would buy each friend a unique gift and we would party ’til dawn; breakfast together; maybe go to the races, where everyone would be given a goody bag*, a fabulous lunch, and something to bet with; in the evening we would go to the theatre or a show.  On Sunday morning we would have a champagne breakfast where I would get very tipsy on Buck’s Fizz and I would personally see each of you to your limo/taxi/bus/old bicycle (don’t be the last to leave – I’ve run out of money).

My point is this: there are some debts that can never be repaid; but they ought to be acknowledged: I probably won’t remember every kindness you have done me, but I will always remember that you are kind.

*Don’t expect a box of Maltesers; we may be friends but we’re not that close.

**

**I’m just looking at the photo of Stockport at the top of this post and I can’t help wondering if anyone will turn up to this fantastic do I’ve planned.