Boogie Nights

"Ever wondered what it's like to live the dream, with damp elbows and a feint whiff of your close friend's toilet habits? This is a yachting blog with a difference, as we go on a journey of discovery, a journey of stupid ideas and ridiculous adventures. The daily commute will never look the same again."

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09 July 2007

pain and pleasure... yin and yang

pain and pleasure... yin and yang
entry Jul 9 2007, 05:49 PM
Im a firm believer in karma. Im also a believer in Newtons laws.

those of equal and opposite reactions occurring. For me this applies to everything in life. It isn't always apparent at the time but eventually it all pans out equally.

I had several moments of reflection at the weekend.
The moment started in fact on Friday afternoon as I headed to a friends wedding. I don't like weddings, I don't know why, I just don't. Especially when they come slap bang in the middle of press day on a friday afternoon. After two previous days of extra long hours to make sure I could escape for an afternoon I arrived at the registry to be informed that I was to be the official photographer and video'er. Not much pressure then.

So I performed the task in hand, all the while wondering why I was doing this when I would much prefer to be somewhere else... anywhere else in fact as I dislike weddings so much. I guess I like my friend and our friendship too much to get too bitter about it.

So my mental conflict continued when I arrived back home to a non-communicative man who was pissed off because he hadn't seen me all week due to working late and attending the wedding and arriving home late again.
"I can please only one person at a time it seems"
The next day Mr Communication was in fine form as he decided to re-attach the flue vent to the roof after he removed it needlessly last week. It requires sealing.
It also required a little patience and perseverance. Something Mr Communication has very little of.
It is something I have acquired vast amounts of living with the Man.
So as it all started to go wrong the roof of the boat turned into Beirut high street, as screws were quickly discarded from their protective glass bowl which kept the white sealant cleanly contained. A dark blue roof is no place to get complacent with white sealer. So as I hand him the tools to finish a job I should have done myself, (but then again I would never have had to do it if it was down to me because I wouldn't have removed it in the first place) the tempers started to fray and I was left holding the white spirits and feeling downhearted.
"it's at times like these I wish I was single"

So back to complicate things the wedding party was over two days and we were expected to attend the evening shin dig. I dont like shin digs, everyday should be a party, I don't see why we need an excuse to get drunk and dance when Im quite happy to do that every day, minus the getting drunk part.
Unfortunately Mr Communication decided now was his time to make commune with cheap white wine and then complain bitterly about it. especially since it wasn't french wine and it wasn't completely cold.
As a consequence of previous days successful photographing and videoing I was given the task once again.
I contemplated whether I should be honoured that my friend thought fit to bestow such an important task on me, or was I purely invited for just such job to keep wedding costs down?
Whichever it is, I decided to do my best and give him a great video to remember his wedding by.

Mr Communication by now was well and truly communicated and rendered virtually speachless by south african wine, except for his chastisements in my direction for being a "party pooper" as I wanted to leave at 11pm and go home.

Sunday morning arrived early at 6am, I awoke to the familiar pork like noise coming from a few inches away and I laid thinking of all the things a person can think of at such early hours.

* why am I laying in a bed with a man who smells of cigarettes and alcohol?
* I wonder what my grandad would think to formula 1 had he still been alive to see a Brit doing so well...
* I think I'd like to paint the kitchen a nice creamy yellow, no orange, no blue... and replace all the knobs.
* should I ride my motorbike alone, 4000 miles to Faro and back in a couple of weeks?
* is it wrong to think that the mother of the bride was absolutely gorgeous and extraordinarily sexy for a mid 50's lady?
* is it rude to talk about the brides visible panty line?
* will I be punished for having such wicked thoughts?
* I wonder if my grandparents are up there looking over at me urging me to do something but Im not getting the message?
* Would I be happier if I was on my own again?


the thoughts continued until eventually I had to get up and get some non-alcoholic air and weetabix ( with chocolate bits).

A trip to brighton was the order of the day so I dragged the hungover zombie out of bed and insisted he come along with me and the dog.
We finally found something we agreed on. In an art shop in the Lanes in Brighton we found a limited edition photo, signed by the photographer, or marilyn monroe. her smile is infectious and I can think of nothing more cheering to wake up to or drift off to sleep to. Simply beautiful is the only way I can describe her.
Simply unbelievable is the fact we both agreed that we love the same image.
It's times like these I'm glad I'm in a relationship



SO weekend over.
back to work.
Arriving in our secure underground carpark, i park up my motorbike and I glance over at the bicycle park at my folding bike. The bike that has stood into the gaping hole in my life that my stolen fixed bike made. Usually I take my folding bike and cycle back to the boat from the train station on fridays and come back on mondays with it via the train. This weekend was different as I attended the wedding, at special request on my motorbike.
The space where my bike usually sits was empty and the security chain was missing.
The slow, aching realisation was that my bike had been stolen. CCTV footage from the buildings archives confirmed that two hooded youths scuttled under the automatic roller door as a car came in, they cracked the combination code and had away with my prized Strida.



Im quite upset about it really, but at the same time I feel I could be paying my penance.

harbouring naughty thoughts about the bride, the brides mother and the brides best friend is a very, very bad thing.

I am a wicked person.

I also have two more bikes that Im constructing in the pipeline.
I think I shall call my next one the "wicked thought depository"

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