Birt-day

I had another one of them birthdays last week to add to my long list, which I was visibly delighted about.

I’ve never quite been able to understand those who turn their back on their own birthday, disowning it like flicking a bogey, turning their back on it as if it were minimal-tech enthusiast.

I’m a firm believer that each and every birthday should be celebrated as an occasion so that when you look back on your young, prosperous days, you can recollect what you’ve done and say, “ahhh, yeah – that was a good birthday”. I use the term ‘recollect’ pretty loosely there, but you get my drift.

I saw my birthday in last Thursday night with Adam, Styler, Speed and Mr. Boombatty which was nothing but pleasant and giggly. Tee hee.

My birthday morning was spent blissfully in bed taking in The Cribs Live at The Brudenell Social Club and eating jalapeno-based food. A wet dream of old, no less. The birthday text messages and Facebook things kept flying in, (which I am very humble and thankful for) which included the standard one from my Dad, Nige, who's simply read, "av gd day". I opened my birthday card (from immense sister Steph) and took myself off to Headingley to have a birthday goose inside the Vintage Wardrobe (bought a super-nice System of a Down t-shirt) and bought myself a birthday sandwich (slobbrin' 'ell).

In a bizarre and pretty unimaginable twist, my thirst for a birthday drink landed me back in the office waiting for some eager-keen people to finish and come to the Dry Dock. Having taken in the sunkist poop-deck, I was picked up by a small rabble of students who shared my goal of becoming inebriated to mark my day. The said rabble (messrs Speed, Watts and Lawrenson) included one Matthew Spence.

It was from that very moment where I knew that this birthday would be one to recollect in years to come.

According to the stamp (Pat) smeared across my right wrist, we ended up in HiFi that night. According to my camera (see album 'Storm Before the Storm'), we rocked pre-drinks out to a mega level at Hogwarts that night. There are certainly gaps to fill that not even Dave Grohl (God) could begin to fill, but judging by the aches in my stomach, I enjoyed myself a great deal.

Saturday then.

As you want on your birthday party day, I was woken by the sun gleaming through me flippin' window into me flippin' eyes (slash Si stumbling in). Still totally not sober, I checked Facebook to find that the most amazing (if not a little small) BOUNCY CASTLE had been planted in the grounds of Hogwarts underneath the truest of blue skies.

All was left was for 6 drunken students (including one with much of his hair stolen by the aforementioned night) to erect (tee hee) a marquee-bo suitable for a small (very small) music festival and light the barbecue.

The rest, as I suppose some people often may say from time to time, is history.

The bouncy castle put in a great shift and provided laughter/injuries to loads of guests who treated Si and I to a ridiculously good day. The alcohol, food, smiles and sunshine flowed all day until the time came to think about moving onto Phase II...

Wire was so good that my face had actually melted by the time Alan, Speed, Ally and I took a taxi home with Michael Jackson's biggest fan. My ears and pores literally couldn't cope with the tunes. Oh, how we danced.

The obligatory Hogwarts afterparty was smashing fun but did slightly undermine the next morning's highly important operation: Glastonbury tickets for Adam, Alan, Speed and Styler.

The plan was always to use University computers to take advantage of their totally rad servers. Going on sale at 9am, we began to panic slightly that we were still at Hogwarts at 8:30am. With time beginning to run out, we quickly assembled some supplies and set off to the Headingley campus on foot. A walk soon turned into a quick walk and then a jog until we found ourselves at the foot of The Acre in front of the regal looking and desolate James Graham building.

Once inside and making a second floor IT lab our own, we powered up and manned no less than 10 PC's, F5-ing the hell out the link for tickets.

5 minutes passed with no joy. 10 minutes. Still nothing. After 15 minutes in the queue, Si let out a some inaudible Scouse yelp to notify us that he was in. We were in.

There were a couple of administrative issues to quickly iron out, but they were dealt with oh so calmly. The excitement of it all was terribly good and the mix of joy and relief came out in a spine-tingling group hug.

Still half cut, we calmly strolled out of the library without seeing a soul, gleaming as much as the sun above us.

It was an incredible end to an incredible weekend.