There's a reason I'm not a poet

Posts tagged ‘alcolols’

Wey Aye Man!

Last weekend I was over in Newcastle visiting two friends of mine who are currently working over there. One of them went to school with me, so I’ve known him for a fair amount of time, but obviously as we’re now living on different islands I don’t tend to see them as much as I’d like. So, I decided to take the opportunity to play the rude card and invited myself along to stay with them. (Thankfully they didn’t seem to mind)

They’re both Real People now, with jobs, a mortgage and two cats. The set-up they have there is sweeeeeeet, living in a really nice apartment in a new development with a bunch of their friends living nearby and some fruit and vegetables growing on their balcony. We spent the first wee while catching up and chatting before playing some Super Smash Bros (standard) and heading out for some cake (also standard) in a wee tea house in a nearby town. Such yum.

I didn’t really know much about Newcastle before I went; all I’d really heard about the city was that it was a really fun place to go to university in, so I’d kind of envisaged a 1970s-style city filled with block-like grey buildings. Which was wrong: because of the Tyne River, there are a whole load of bridges around the place, which actually run through the city, so you can end up walking along streets underneath these humongous adqueduct-style bridges, which cut an impressive shape next to all the sandstone buildings. So yeah, it made for a very nice city.

But it is known for its night life, if the number of hens and stags you see traipsing about in tiaras and fairy wings are anything to go by. So we went to a pub on the Friday night, which is one of the oldest/if not the oldest pub in the city. It used to be a market and so is filled with apothecary drawers and more nooks than you can shake a cranny at. Because I’d ended up staying up late pretty much every night of the week playing Final Fantasy, it ended up not being too late a night out.

We got up the next day and after I had some caramel cake from the tea house for breakfast (ideal) we headed out to Beamish, an outdoor museum showcasing the history of the North of England, looking specifically at how life in towns and the country was around the turn of the 20th century. With coal mines, a pre-war school, ye olde sweete shoppes and a Freemason hall, it made for some good viewing and was great fun. They were also running a 1950s day, so lots of people had dressed up specifically and were getting their hair did in the style of women back then: it was all very impressive!

Carrying on in that theme, after a yummy Chinese stuffing-of-the-faces that evening we headed out to a swing dance night! One of my friends’ pals is into swing dancing, and the group she’s affiliated with were doing an event for people to come along and learn a few steps before a swing band started for people to practise their moves. People were encouraged to dress up so I pretty much just wore my oldest-timey work clothes and dance my little white boy heart out. Turns out it was some serious fun. It ended up being one of the sweatiest nights out I’ve had in a while what with all the jumping about and lack of air con, but I ended up being pretty decent at it and had bucketloads of fun.

So yeah: Newcastle is officially sanctioned by me!

M

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Jack of All Trades, Master of Arts

It’s a fact universally acknowledged that all people who have had three graduations will be in want of a fourth.

So, I headed back last Friday to the old Alma Mater with my parents to pick up a free degree. After six years in the place, I’ve got a BA as well as my medical degree, but all undergrads who’ve studied there become eligible to have their Bachelor of Arts converted into a Master of Arts degree. Without any extra work being required! All you have to do is remain an upstanding member of society, ie avoid getting

  1. Bankrupt
  2. Thrown in jail
  3. Divorced

Yeah.

We flew over and I picked up my stuff for graduation, and immediately started running into a huge number of familiar faces, setting up the theme for the weekend. It was pretty great seeing so many people again, as practically the whole year was back at the same time. There was maybe 100-150 people from my year in college, so there was a whole bunch of people I’d lost contact with who it was great fun catching up with. People are doing Real Life Things like moving to exciting locations, buying property, heck one guy even brought his daughter along.

Of course, with a year group that big, there have to be people that you weren’t best buds with, that you at best exchanged awkward hellos with when you came across them in the street. Aaaaaand that was another part of the weekend: there was a hefty number of times accidentally getting caught chatting to someone while walking towards one of your actual friends/alcohol. It was flipping hilarious watching people go through this, and deliciously painful when it happened to me.

Graduation was preceded by a dinner the night before, which again was a great hark back to old times. Food, wine and port was served, we got screwed over by seating mayhem, and the serving staff told us off for being too noisy. The ceremony itself involved a lot of standing, a lot of waiting, and a lot of Latin. All the pomp and fuss is quite fun, but by the time I went up to the front I was a bit keen to get out pf there into the sun! We had lunch in college and hung around on the grass chatting- we ended up being the very last to leave out of the 300 or so people there, as one of my friends was taking 595 photos. Yup.

That night we headed out for dinner to a South American tapas place for my birthday. It ended up being a bit of a logistic nightmare, what with sixteen people ordering off three different menus and sharing 2 for 1 cocktails, but the food was class and the craic was 90, and the sitting down meant I had a bit more time to chat to one or two people I hadn’t really managed to yet.

We ended the night with a walk around college at dusk, reminiscing and stirring up nostalgia. With a sit on the fountain I said goodbye to college life. For the first time I don’t know when I’ll next be back in Cambridge, which is strange. I had a flipping great six years there, but that’s all over, and Cambridge is now just a place I used to live.

M

Island Getaway

It’s my birthday this Saturday (woooo!) and I’m going to be over in England for my last in a long line of graduations. I’ve taken this week off (another woooo!) and decided to head out to Rathlin Island last weekend with a few friends, partly to see the place and partly to celebrate my birthday.

I’ve seen the island from afar quite a large number of times from the north coast, but as far as I can remember I’ve never actually been there. It’s quite a small island, about 6 miles long with around 100 people on it. We got the ferry over, working on our quads against the rocking of the boat, and made our way to a hostel a few minutes walk from the harbour. We got a bit sidetracked along the way when we found an OUTDOOR GYM, getting a bit excited as it was essentially a playground.

We went for a walk around the island before heading to the pub for some grub and some drinks. Inevitably this turned into a bit of a boogie. There were only around twenty people in the bar, and most of them all knew each other of course, but the atmosphere was so friendly and welcoming that it meant for some brilliant craic. We hogged the jukebox a little bit and had a boogie, and a bunch of the locals joined in. The electricity wasn’t working in half of the bar so it was just like being in a dark nightclub in the real world.

We ended up staying out quite late, dancing/chatting/eating birthday cake/getting offered jeeps until the early hours of the morning, and it had been a while since I’d had a drunken boogieing night out with my friends, so I was in a pretty great mood by the end of it and well tuckered out. We slept in a fair bit the next day to work off the alcohol, so missed the morning, but then headed out, got one of the world’s best sausage rolls, and then went for a trek up round the island.

The weather wasn’t too kind to us over the weekend: there was a fair amount of rain, and an awful lot of wind. This meant we didn’t really get to do the whole cycling/puffin-watching set of activities I had mentally planned in my head, but the scenery on the island was still pretty great. I don’t tend to do too many outdoorsy-type stuff, but when I do I appreciate how much of it Northern Ireland has to offer.

So yeah, bit of a short trip but really enjoyed myself. I’ll definitely go back some day, if for nothing else to finally see those puffins!

M

Tis the season to be disgustingly greedy

I haven’t posted on here for quite some time now, been slightly out of whack with my routine over the past few weeks and this is one of the things I’ve let slip a bit. I had some night shifts in November and ever since then I haven’t really gotten back to normal mode.

Nights were interesting: while there were stressful bits, and others were you just generally felt a bit wick because there just wasn’t a way to get everything done, it actually felt quite good to be doing the work of an actual doctor; as opposed to my daytime job of a secretary with phlebotomy skills. I think I was a bit lucky though in that while I had one or two bad nights I didn’t have any horrendous ones, so maybe I’m getting a slightly sunshine biassed version of out of hours work.

Outside of the hospital I’ve been having lots of fun with my friends, eating, drinking and being on the merry side of life. The Christmas market opened up which obviously means one thing: EXTREME NUMBERS OF WAFFLES. Sadly now that I have a job I couldn’t get to the market every day of the week but I certainly gave a decent try. I’ve also been on a few work nights out which were great craic: it’s a good bunch of people that I work with and me getting drunk and making a fool of myself seems to not have scared them off too much.

One of them in particular has done me a big favour and agreed to cover half of my Christmas Day shift. This was actually one of the reasons I decided to come home and work- I figured that if I ended up working Christmas Day, it would be a lot less depression to miss the day and come home to my parents’ house at night than to return to an empty flat in England. But still I figured it’d be nice to get at least some time at home and she kindly covered the morning part of my shift, which unfortunately for her proved to be much more stressful than the evening part! While it was sad to miss parts of the day I should at least be glad I got to enjoy some of them, and importantly got to eat stupid amounts of food.

In the time it’s taken me to write this blog I’ve eaten half of a cheesecake. I may have a problem.

So the plan now is to get back into my good routine, to become a functioning person and do things like exercise, blog, and say no to delicious cheesecakes. I’m gonna be one of those Good People Of The World.

Ah frick- I think I’m making a New Year’s resolution here. Balls, now that is lame.

M

Let the good times roll

I lived the life of a socialite this weekend just past, heading to London on Saturday (after a boozey dinner on Friday) to meet up with a few friends for a house party and a return to the “glory days” of 2009. I stuck that in quotation marks because whether you’re using the amount of fun I had, the length of my hair, or the effects of alcohol on my liver as your reference point, you mightn’t classify that part of my life as “good”.

The theme (there’s always a theme) was Sparkle & Shine. Manly. Having taken part in a pantomime last year, I actually did have something that would suit- a bright red jacket covered in gold shiny things. But over the Christmas holidays I looked at it and thought “Will I bring this back to uni? Let’s be honest, I’m too old and boring to go to any fancy dress parties where this will be useful”. Fool.

So, I was left with the option of covering myself in some form of tin foil. I think my aim was along the lines of a tin foil Hercules, but what I ended up with was a metal bib and some wine stains on my t-shirt. Kind of a metaphor for my life really. But it was still a really fun night, at least judging from my drunk texts. It’s more difficult these days to organise things that everyone manages to get to (especially if people have London jobs), so I enjoy the opportunity to meet up.

On the Sunday I met up with two school friends which was nice- of the ones who went away from home for university I’m still the only one who actually wants to go back home, and as Poor Little Rich Boy pointed out, it is the right choice for me at this point. He said that when I talk about things I’ve got planned in the future, I get a lot more animated and enthusiastic when the thing I’m looking forward to involves going back to Northern Ireland.

So, I’ve got my fingers crossed for March 10th, which is the day when I find out whether or not they’ll actually allow me to come over and start telling people to take drugs and drink lots of water. Everyone in the country finds out on the same day, so I expect it’ll be another quite boozey night, whether it’s celebrations or commiserations!

I’m hoping to do a night shift tonight, so I’m gonna head off now and get myself sorted/psyched up for it. I’ve done one or two before on the surgical team (which were uneventful) but never as the medical team. Obviously the patients are sleeping so there’s not a need for as many staff to be about, and so three or so doctors that will be on-site to cover around 250 patients, and if something goes wrong it’s you that has to sort it out. That’s more than a little bit terrifying, so I figure I don’t want the first time I’m faced with that to be on my first day- so thought it’d be a good idea to get some experience in it when I don’t have the title of doctor in front of my name. Wish me luck!

M

I’m my own worst enemy

Drunk post.

I haven’t written on here in a while cause I’ve been having fun on placement and finishing off reading Worm. But I’ve decided to dedicate this post to the entity that is Drunk Michael.

So you know that old trope of having an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other? Well I always feel like if you get a few drinks on me the burden of the alcohol isn’t exactly shared equally between my two advocates. While the angel is passed out from how much of a lightweight he is, the devil is shaving off the angel’s eyebrows and stealing his phone to text everyone in the phonebook in exactly the most embarrassing way possible.

My drunk self really likes the idea of Sober Michael waking up in the morning and encountering that all-too-familiar sense of dread when he sees a few messages in his inbox along the lines of “What the hell is wrong with you” or “I had no idea you felt that way please stop contacting me”. Drunk Michael knows exactly who to text to make my life awkward, and exactly what to say to maximise embarrassment.

The worst part of it all is that my phone (Kevin) only stores a certain number of sent messages, say the last ten. So Drunk Michael takes advantage of the free texts, and makes sure to send a significantly larger number of texts than ten. This means that Sober Michael just has to wait for the fallout to find out exactly what Mr Hyde has done.

I was on the steamboat last night, so this morning wasn’t a fun experience when browsing my sent messages. Thankfully I’ve only had a few this evening, so I should be able to keep the monster in line.

I think basically the take-home message from all of this is that I should never be allowed near big red buttons.

M