Breaking and Entering for Beer.
Sometimes, during a completely mundane day, you end up doing something incredibly weird.
And you stop, and think, “When I got out of bed this morning, I did not think it would lead me here.”
So it was for me today, when I broke into Nick’s house. Emphasis on the broke as well -I had to literally break the latch off his window to get in.
As I was hoisting myself through his window I couldn’t help but giggle to myself. I mean, what on earth was going on? Midday, I’m supposed to be spending the day studying, and instead I’m breaking into a friend’s house?
Unfortunately all his money goes on clothes and stuff, so there was nothing too great to take off with, given that that was my chance. Except for a bit of scotch, but he offered that freely. And it was only 1pm. I had things to do that afternoon.
So why?
It came in the middle of a mundane day. I was busy studying up at Uni. Decided it was time for a break, and suggested we meet up for coffee. Apparently he had far too much to do. Next thing you know, I get a message askign what I’m doing right now.
I figured I was going to get coffee after all.
But no.
“Can you break into my house and put my groceries away? They delivered them and left them at the door.”
So there you have me, playing around with the window on the side of the house, slowly loosing the latch with the help of a stick, before ripping the thing out, all the while keeping one eye on the road to make sure no one got the wrong idea and called the cops. Every so often I would stop what I was doing and lean ever so innocently against the side of the house. And whistle. All so that Nick’s cheesecake wouldn’t melt, and his mince wouldn’t go off. And, of course, so the whole lot wouldn’t be stolen.
I can’t complain really, it added interest to an otherwise boring day… and he’s promised me a dozen beer.
There are few things I wouldn’t do for friends a dozen beer.
Heineken, Stella, or Pures please.
France 2004
Found a bunch of my old posts about my time in France via Google Desktop Search (caches everything!) and web.archive.org.
Put them all back online, under the day they were originally posted. A couple of good stories in there, worth checking out (or rereading) if you’re bored 
Departure
Onwards and Outwards
Arrival
Paris, la cité de l’amour
The Family
First Real Day
French Markets
And so it begins.
Today has been shit.
I thought it would be a good idea to get up early and spend the day up at Uni putting in some hard hours on my assignments and revision for my tests.
Of course, I didn’t want to be too eager, so I figured if I got there around 10 that’d be fine, a good six hours before my class. Set my alarm for, oh, 8.30, respectable time. Catch the 9.20 Bus. And Voila.
But no.
Daylight saving screwed with my body clock. I don’t function before 8. While the clock said it was after 8, my body said “Yeah fucken right” and refused to even open my eyes. I finally managed to suppress my inner self and drag myself out of bed (begrudgingly) and hour later.
After some rushing around I managed to catch the 10am bus… not too late. But shitty, and half awake.
Reading my books for my French Lit test made me realise that I had far too much to read and not enough eyeballs to focus.
Working on my essay had the brilliant effect of making me doubt my entire direction and argument, my sources, and my ability to finish the essay on time.
I did write a draft intro to get me in the mood, and a quick outline which is far too sparse and short to amount to much. I found a couple more articles, but when am I going to find time to read them?
Mmm, pie for lunch. And coke. Back to work.
Class time, coinciding perfectly with a massive sugar crash, leaving me feeling, again, half asleep and not really listening to the lecturer. And the test is on Thursday.
I’m taking tonight off. I might read one article. But that’s it. I’m not going to fry my brain. I need to destress.
Could fucking do with a beer… but there are none in the house and I’m broke.
Well, that’s a lie. We have some Victoria Bitter that some guy left after a party. But I tried one last night, and seriously, its not even worth it. It can’t be classified as beer. Really. It tasted like… well, remember back to the first time you ever tried a beer. Probably a sip from your dads glass/can/handle/yardie.
Remember scrunching your face up? Thinking that it was one of the foulest tasting things on the planet, perhaps only beaten by brussel sprouts? Yeah, VB took me back to those days. And I drink a lot of beer. It shouldn’t do that anymore.
So what to do instead?
Stock up on copious amounts of caffeine of course. By drinking an entire six-cup plunger of beautiful coffee. Fair trade, organic, “a clean crisp medium bodies Indonesian coffee, with a hint of spice.”
Uh huh. Just gimme the caffeine. (It is bloody good though….)
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Adey Ben, 2 months without a post is terrible. Get moving!!!!!
yojoe What about Missile Pops?
Shannon OMG. Check it out… http://mudhead.uottawa.ca/~pet e/beard.html
Ben A singular beer won’t quite cut it. But you’re on the right track…
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