I was fairly hungover today. It came in waves, repeatedly knocking me around, rather than a single monolith of misery. I took the kids to the café, fed them babycinnos, tried to avoid vomitting on them.
I went to the climbing wall for an hour and belched foul clouds into my own face as I clung to the wall, every new hold inspiring another headache or a heart palpitation.
I went and bought cheese and … well, that was alright. Standing in a climate controlled room filled with dairy artefacts is not a stressful activity.
I didn’t feel better all day. The first green shoot, the first day of sunshine, the first gap in the horror was when I cracked open a beer at 8:30 (I spent time from 8 to 8:30 getting both girls to agree to sleep) and then a tide of gin, beer and cheese got me back to somewhere close to normal.
Desperate to sleep, though. A single game of Cards Against Humanity, then we kicked our guests out, went to bed. Life is too exciting for any more than that.
For my birthday, my wife took me out to The Fat Prince, a Turkish restaurant round the corner from our flat. We got a bit lost and wandered past Korean wedding salons for a while, before fetching up outside the dark exterior of The Fat Prince. Continue reading “Birthday at The Fat Prince”
Today was my wife’s birthday, so after work I took her to El Mero Mero (the boss of bosses), a Mexican restaurant in the Chjimes complex. We got there half an hour early so I drank a Tecate and she got on the mezcal before we went into the garden for tacos. Continue reading “Singaporean Mexican Birthday Party”
We woke today stressed and exhausted, because La Serpiente had crawled into our bed at stupid o’clock and been thrashing and pushing us around ever since, and because we had to get ready for the birthday party today. We’d done things last night like stick pieces of fruit on skewers and make up party bags and try to amass enough juice boxes and cans of beer for the whole population of Singapore, but you never feel you’ve done enough. Especially when it’s now two birthdays, handling both the fourth and second journeys around the sun. I hope they don’t feel shortchanged that we didn’t over-order booze for two different occasions, rather than one.
Frustrated by my slow motion this morning (or to quote EMF, “you say I don’t talk enough but when I do I’m a fool”) my wife sent me out to get coffee. At 8:30 in the morning. On a Sunday. When it’s impossible to buy a cup of coffee. The only place with an open sign in the door was actually shut until 9, which meant I stood like Banquo’s ghost at the counter until they finally noticed me and almost jumped out of their skins. Well, that will teach them not to serve coffee early enough. Continue reading “Fourth and second”
This morning I got up, put on my warmest running gear and jogged down to the beach, running a couple of kilometres in the freezing cold. It was beautiful; the sunrise was glowing off the bottom of clouds, the ocean was a mirror and flocks of ducks would fly up as I ran towards them. Every step of the run I was reminded of how lucky I was to be here.
Although I’m 40 already in most parts of the world, being in Vancouver allows me to cling to a few more hours in my fourth decade before I capitulate and accept my obscelescence. Although the journey here today already aged me a few years. Continue reading “Seeing out the year in style”