Wednesday, December 26, 2007

Wednesday 26 December 2007 – BOXING DAY

This morning I awaken at my parents, on their sofa with sweat dripping down my pours. This place is boiling, I know it is December and everything but this feels unnecessary.

For some reason I have the urge to watch Stranger Than Fiction almost as soon as I wake up. Luckily I have it on DVD as part of a three-disc set along with Talladega Nights and The Benchwarmers so my appetite gets met.

My view of Stranger Than Fiction is very different now. The Monday morning that I watched it at the Sony screening room on Golden Square with Catherine now feels so long ago.

As ever the movie has a bittersweet effect on me and again I emerge from it feeling optimism and an affinity to/with/for the Will Ferrell character.

When the movie ends people have already started to murmur and I continue with the disc set playing Talladega Nights, which is now another movie that has strong London memories for me. Am I getting too sentimental? This movie I remember being better in the cinema.

Early on mum heads out to exchange the gifts she got me and I dismissed like the spoilt brat that I still am. I’ll regret this one.

I spend all day hanging around my parents’ place playing the son and hoping for some kind of response or sniff from Zoe.

In the evening the usual plans get suggested for heading out on Boxing Day night, not least as this is going to be a rare opportunity for Tom to show his face in Colchester this Christmas. When I make sure that Matt is not heading out we all hook up and wind up in the Playhouse.

It is weird now to think that at one time we used to spend every Friday night in this place. Now it looks slightly smaller and somewhat grottier.

Tonight only Tom, Chris and I make it out. We send out texts to people such as Ben and even Staff but no one is interested or forthcoming. Their loss. Maybe.

At one point when the other two disappear (one to the bar, one to the toilet) I try to phone Zoe. I only get her voicemail/answerphone and being a bit tipsy I leave a chipper starting message before revealing the real downer that is I, commenting/confessing to her how bored I am in the pub at this time. Really, who wants to hear this?

Eventually we swim out the remainder of the night and once done I drop the pair of them off at Chris’ parents’ place in Stanway with the usual “its been great, we should do it again soon” with full knowledge that the pair of them will be heading back to godforsaken Nottingham in the next day or two.

Myself, I head home to more Christmas on my own. These things are pleasant some times, only not right now.

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