Like a big looming thing it came - 2008. Yes, even the most mathematically challenged can perhaps work out 68 +40 =... yes, that's right. Crisis time. Official middle age.
I was beaten to the punch by my mate Dom who was 40 on the 26th of December. He seems quite calm about it, although with having had a year where he survived some fucking awful brain disease I imagine 40 is a bit of a cakewalk.
I intend to drama mine up like a drag queen on speed. Although my plans to spend a fortune at the super-poncy best restaurant in the world (and I always wonder who it is that decides it) El Bulli have been scuppered. Would you believe that a sneaky look on their website last month revealed that they are already fully booked for 2008. They suggest trying again in 2009. Sarcastic feckers. Burger King will do fine for me, fella.
So. No New Year's resolutions. They seem a bit unseemly for a man approaching 40. I mean, if you haven't got the will to do it by now, using another new year as an excuse seems a bit lame.
What I do intend to do this year is:
- try and kick the ciggies down to maybe 5 a month;
- make it to Italy with Mrs Transplant for a couple of weeks;
- see the Lakers in New York with Steve;
- poker in Vegas with the fellas;
- New bathroom (God I hate it);
- one or two others not for public consumption.
The country is a bit wet, as you'd expect for this time of year. Still cute, and still not missing London too much. The house is keeping us pretty happy. We has the inlaws (both types) over Christmas, as well as a full 10 seater poker game and stil we managed to survive. What are the odds? Coupled with a new capacity for feding random scroungers we also have two massive TVs to perch in front of.
I know.
Consumer society man, ain't it a killer?
Right, time for some tea, cake and the papers.
If you can be bothered to read this, please leave me a note that you have and I might be a bit better in updating it. Maybe.
Later, you monkeys.
