Putting 2007 to Bed
It’s been a while since I blogged in LA. It’s not that I got fed up with it after LA – I was incapable of getting to a computer and boring you with the insignificant details of my life.
Was I incapable because there was no internet access where I was?
No.
Was it that I had some sort of debilitating illness?
No.
The fact was we were in Las Vegas and as Elvis would have said had he not been working in our local chippy,
How I wish that there were more
than twenty-four hours in a day.
Cause even if there were forty more
I wouldn’t spend anytime bothering to do a blog.
It really is that hectic. I’ll wrap up the holiday in a bit but, for no apparent reason, I’ll box off Christmas and new year first.
Christmas at the Geoghegans is always fun and one I was looking forward to more than usual as we had to spend last Christmas in the freezing and hostile climate of Melbourne. We did the traditional Christmas Eve activity of pub, curry and church (in that order). Some people think it’s disrespectful to load up in the pub, have a stinky curry and then rock up at church for midnight mass but we’ve come on a long was since that dark Christmas Eve when we got banned from the church of England and if we’re not allowed to turn up, sit politely and then have a good sing a long whilst the religious nuts murmur their way through songs celebrating the birth of Mr J Christ in a way that makes them sound unbelievably depressing. They missed out Silent Night so we, rather ironically, belted out on the walk home.
I love Christmas morning. We get up at about 9am as soon as Dad turns on the radio in the kitchen to wake us up and totter downstairs to find two clues that “he’s been”; a lot of prezzies and a plate with a half eaten mince pie, half eaten carrot and half a glass of milk (Santa obviously had the whole Jagerbomb). Once we’ve established that Santa’s been it’s time to crack on with the Champagne and punch – this pretty much sets the tone for Christmas.
Presents open, more drink and general merriment – this is a picture of us waiting outside the pub at 11.59am waiting for it to open:
After a swift one in the Freshy it was time for Pezza and I to bid farewell as we popped to Karen’s sister’s for dinner which was nice; difficult to sum up really – probably fair to say nice family Christmas but without the arguing. It was then back to The Geoghegans for Christmas night complete with Clarkey’s patented drumming to Paradise City on Mum’s pots and pans.
Between Christmas and New Year we had BOTT Christmas – Like the Christmas I described above but with more alcohol and corned beef.
Finally, New Year’s Eve. It took a while to decide what we were going to do but we eventually plumped for Beefy’s fancy dress party. We pulled out the stops and rented costumes, Pezza and I going for the ‘Pimp & Whore’ ensemble. You can track Pezza’s progress over the following 12 hours in the three photos below:
That’ll be the Absinthe! We had to stop once on the way home for a quick vomit and then again once we got into the car park at home. I left her to it and went to the diabolical Man Utd v Birmingham match.
So that’s that, we’re into 2008! I’ll be sad to see 2007 go; it has been a terrific year that will be tough to top – in brief we started in Australia, moved onto Hong Kong, stag do in Barca, got married, honeymooned in Cancun, retired and then went round the world.
So what will 2008 bring? For starters there’s the change to the blog – it’s no longer Andy’s Retirement as I have come out of retirement now, I am now looking for work and we’ll be all steam ahead to open our nursery. As I said in my very first post, the aim is to be 90% there come the spring and I’ll update when anything significant happens.
2008 also sees a return of Mancunian Super Hero – FAT ANDY! The scales were tipped this morning at a mind-blowing 106.4kg, that’s 16st 10lbs. This is phenomenal. 12 months ago I was 87.7kg – a weight gain of an average of just under a pound a week. So, here’s the deal – I’m on another bet with the old man but this time not for money. We both have a target of weight and a date, if one doesn’t make it and the other does then the loser must get a tattoo of the victor’s choosing – no restrictions. We both have to get down to 83.4kg, my target date is 29 August whereas Dad’s is 24 December (he’s got a bit more pie than me).
I’ve pigged out a bit over Christmas, more consciously than usual as I’ve known that that’s it now for 241 days. My first target is to lose a stone and a half by the end of January. It sounds optimistic but I’ll let you know. I’ll be dealing in kilos from now on so the target for Friday 1 Feb is 96.8kg. I will be doing this with a series of tasteless meals and sweating. I will be doing the 10k on 18 May in Manchester and hopefully the Great North Run on 5 October.
So, what of the remainder of the holiday? I left you in LA complaining of the transport infrastructure. We flew to Vegas later that day and the destruction soon began. Vegas is an astonishing place, everything is there – it’s the entertainment capital of the world and they bend over backwards to make sure you have the best time you ever could there.
How can you sum up Vegas?
“For guys like me, Las Vegas washes away your sins. It’s a morality car wash. It does for us what Lourdes does for humpbacks and cripples. And, along with making us legit comes cash. Tons of it. I mean, what do you think we’re doing out here in the middle of the desert? It’s all this money. This is the end result of all the bright lights and the comped trips, of all the champagne and free hotel suites, and all the broads and all the booze. It’s all been arranged just for us to get your money. That’s the truth about Las Vegas.”
I love it, it’s my kind of place but 5 days there is a real test, or at least it seemed to be. Perhaps if you lived there you would perhaps pace yourself a bit more. It was my plan to cram as much in as possible, Vegas is all about indulgence so there was much gambling, much drinking and not much sleep. As Ace Rothstein said, it’s all about the money and they need you in the casinos. To that end smoking indoors is still permitted in Vegas and, as long as you’re gambling, a pretty, surgically enhanced robot wearing exceptionally skimpy clobber will happily bring you any drink of your choice all day and all night. Our rationale was that as long as we weren’t losing more than £15 an hour we were even with the booze. As it turns out we all ended up about even with the drinks pulling us out on top.
A definite highlight of Vegas was our trip out of state to Arizona and the Grand Canyon. We booked a helicopter flight that took us over Old Vegas, Lake Las Vegas and then onto the Canyon. It was cold down there and even a bit of snow was lying around. We had a picnic below the rim of the canyon and took in the surroundings – it’s a stunning place which makes geography briefly interesting as you see the Colorado River meandering through the Canyon and eroding away rock formations over 2 billion years old.
This is a view, a good view, but there are better. Take Central Park, it’s a park and the only reason why it’s significant is because there’s no greenery for miles around – compare it to central London where there are green parks and squares all over the place. It’s a city centre that’s just a bit too busy for me and aside from the steak I really can’t see the point in going there for a holiday. It’s taken me three trips to figure this out but seriously if you want to experience a city that will blow your mind then head to Sydney.
A picture of us about to get fleeced £20 for the pleasure of sniffing a horses arse around a park.
New York did produce one of the better moments in life. It was our last night and we were drinking in Times Square after our steak. We asked the waitress where would be good to move on to and she suggested an Irish bar. This wasn’t your typical Irish bar of Guinness and Pogues, it was an R&B bar with a ‘wigga’ DJ and music that I’m too old to appreciate. It was getting late and we were bored, Stuart was flagging. Pezza and I went to the downstairs bar that was empty with the same kind of music as above I therefore sent Pezza to find the DJ and see if we could request a song or two to keep the evening going. The guy in the DJ stand gave Pezza his iPod and asked her to choose a song. Feeling under pressure she opted for some AC/DC. Upon the selection of which the guy put Pezza in charge whilst he buggered off. When he came back Stuoobs and Caroline had joined us and we were another few choices down the line. He showed me how to operate the laptop/iPod combination, how to fade in and out and wished me luck! In poured 500 students on a medics night out and we all of a sudden found ourselves DJing in a club on Times Square!
Needless to say the next day was rough. In the taxi to the airport I was in the back in the middle of Caroline and Pezza who both had their heads out of the window. Once aboard the plane it was heads down and a quick watch of my new found inspirational movie, Run Fat Boy, Run.
