The curse of the birthday bash

Sunday was an eventful night in my humble home-town, to say the very least. One of my good friends was turning 24, and had arranged to have a few drinks in a couple of pubs here in Coleshill. Nothing big, just a nice, cheerful evening out to celebrate his birthday. Well, that was the plan any way, and couldn't have been further from what we actually experienced that night!

I caught up with the Birthday Boy and our other friends about 9pm, by which time he was already on the Sambuca's and any chance of a quiet drink had long flown out the window! Although little did we realise that our slightly-too-merry with the drink mate was going to be the least of our worries, as less than five minutes later there was screams, shouts, shots and a whole heap of smashed glasses.

What started as a silly scrap between a teenage Blues fan and a teenage Arsenal fan, turned into a whole pub brawl, with men hitting women and women throwing glasses. It was like the mosh pit at a Slipknot gig all of a sudden, and people who didn't even know what was happening were just getting involved for the hell of it apparently! Your's truly was excluded from that of course, as I'd grabbed my bag and my drink and taken cover in the corner. Getting a smack in the face was certainly not on my list of to-do's for the night. Tables full of drinks were knocked over, there was smashed glass every where and more black eyes than I could count. The police were called in the end, and it all diffused, but not before the Birthday Boy's cousin was given a nice shiner for his troubles!

And so, when the dust had finally settled, myself and the other sensible fellows in the group hijacked the Birthday Boy and moved him on to another pub. It was a much nicer atmosphere over the road and I'd just settled down with an ice-cold beer to enjoy the rest of the night, when the next big drama occurred. Whilst outside smoking, one of the lads from our group had spotted a rather drunk regular from the pub trying to walk home. He had stopped him and asked if he was alright, but he insisted he was fine and headed off into a dark alleyway between two buildings. Seconds later, our friend watched opened mouthed as the drunk regular tripped and fell face-first into the pavement - before lying there, unconscious in a muddy puddle.

Naturally our friend went to check on him, and when he couldn't rouse him, he rushed back inside the pub to call for help. And so it was that myself and the Birthday Boy had to help carry our poor drunk regular back inside the pub, and up into the B&B to lie down. It was only then I noticed he had split his eye open and was bleeding quite badly. Obviously this meant one thing only: Nurse Louise to the rescue. So there I sat, on a night out, mopping up the forehead of one highly inebriated fellow, whilst he muttered drunken apologies for being an inconvenience. Shameful as this is to admit, although I was very worried for his safety, I couldn't help but think: "Don't you dare get blood on my nice top!". I mean, how would I have explained that to my parents?

After that the night finally calmed down a bit, with nothing more than a few tears and drunken ramblings on the behalf of the Birthday Boy, but it got me thinking about a few things. Firstly, to those who started the fight, I would just like to make one thing clear - football is only a game, and is certainly not a reason to start kicking seven shades out of each other. Secondly, for all those who joined in with the ridiculous fight, have you no shame? You were throwing punches at people you didn't even know, for a reason you didn't even understand. Are you cavemen and women, because I thought the rest of us had evolved beyond the need for senseless violence? Thirdly, for all those who like a bit too much of a drink, learn your limits. Our drunk regular could have woken up face down in a puddle, having been mugged or beaten or worse. He could've ended up in a hospital bed, being treated for concussion and alcohol poisoning. Sort it out!

It also got me thinking about the curse of the birthday bash, as Sunday - like many others I can remember - was the result of another overly-dramatic birthday night. It seems that every party I've been to in years has ended in tears for one reason or another. Either there's been an argument, or a fight, or a falling out. Or someone's been sick, or gone missing. My 20th was a nightmare, and my 21st nearly ended up heading down the same road. A fair few of the Women Folk's birthday's have fallen foul of the birthday bash curse, and I'm sure Ray would agree some of her's have been far from perfect. It just seems that any night out where you label it a Birthday Party is doomed to end in disaster - and it's all drama, drama, drama. And so, with a month of solid birthday parties heading my way this April, I'm asking for a little gift of my own - just one, great drama-free night. Fingers-crossed for me on that one ay!

He won the war

I have some good news which I would like to share with you all. You may have read my post about my trip away with the other half recently, entitled "Four days in a frosty haven", in which I told you all about his current health problems and my thoughts around the matter.

Well, you will all be very pleased to know that my Man has been given the all clear this week. He has been deemed as having a full response to treatment, which basically means what it says, in that the chemotherapy has essentially worked the best that it can and he is now on the road to recovery.

He has to take a bit more time off work, and then ease himself back into it all slowly, so as not to hinder his recovery at all - but things are finally looking up for us, the haphazard couple that we are!

As you can imagine, I'm thrilled. This has been one of the longest, hardest years of my existence so far, and as I was saying to my Fella just yesterday, I really needed some good news to come along and perk me up a bit.

I'm not depressed or anything, in fact I think I've coped quite well with everything that life has thrown at me this year, but having fought to regain control of my life after losing somebody very close to me earlier this year - and then having to put so much energy into staying strong and supportive for my other half after finding out he was ill just a few months later- I'm really not sure how much fight I've got left in me.

The new year should be a new start for me, but unfortunately all it is likely to bring is more heartache as the anniversary of the death of the great man I lost will be heading our way soon enough, and all of the pain and grief I suffered not so long ago will no doubt come flooding back again - and I'm just going to have to deal with it, some how.

I'm not writing this for sympathy, as those who know me well will tell you I don't want a big fuss over it all. I've always like to deal with things on my own, and I kind of see it as a sign of weakness in myself if I'm not rock-solid and strong throughout my misfortunes. But what it does make realise, is that it doesn't get any easier for those who have lost someone they love.

All of us will know someone who has suffered some form of heartache or loss unfortunately. It's not a great fact to acknowledge, but that is just they way life is and we have no choice but to accept it. My mother lost her mother just a few months back, and my nan lost her husband a few years before that, and yet even I have been guilty of forgetting that every year they will once again mourn the loss of their someone special.

So now that this situation will soon be upon me once again, it has made me think about all those others I know who will also find a point each year in which the memories of the life they once had will be all too close to home again - and this year I intend to be much more supportive of this fact, and help them see all the things they have got to be grateful for instead.

Time is a healer, of that I have no doubt, but time will never allow you to forget what you may have lost. I, however, would just like to think of it in a different way. Yes, I have lost so much this year, and that fact will never leave me - but for all that I have lost, I seemed to have gained so much as well. I am stronger than I have ever been because of this year. I am older and wiser, and more capable of dealing with the pitfalls in life. And most importantly, I have surrounded myself will the most wonderful people you could ever wish to have in your life - and for that I know I am so blessed.

My Man getting better and beating what could have defeated him is just the start of the beginning for me. New year, new hope, and hopefully new me. Although I will never forget who I have lost this year, I have so much more to gain in my life...and that surely has to be worth living for. If I'm twenty-one and invincible now, imagine how far I will have come when I'm thirty-one and indestructible?