Got the T Shirt

This is it kids - Alcohol Eve. Happy Drinking and a Merry Hangover!

I have survived - no WE have survived - 6 weeks without the demon drink. Here is a summary of the completely scientific results of this social study...

Weight
I have lost no weight, except for about an ounce of knee skin when I came off my bike the other day (yes, I have been excercising like a bitch too). So all you people out there on weight watchers who get told a pint is about a million points and wine is the devil's own choice - DON'T BELIEVE IT! Liver Watchers maybe, Weight Watchers no.

Activities
I have been unusually active - getting on all sorts of courts to play with bats and balls, bowling (ten pin) and even a spot of rugby (though I nearly put my back out doing that). I have also been to watch rugby sober (unheard off) and been to the horses with nowt but a coke. Verdict - Rugby is for drinking beer at, not playing.

Feel good factor
Do I feel good? Yes, but generally I do anyway, as I am a bit of a cheeseball. My wallet feels better. My liver hopefully is loving it, and looks brand new, with tags on. The only major feelgood factor thing is the positive feeling that I have done this. Six weeks ago I did not feel confident about it at all. I know that I can easily have a few nights a week where I can live without a glass of wine, or a cold can of beer. A cold can of beer with little droplets of cold water dripping down the side, just out of the fridge...

Social side of it
As four of my close friends/significant others joined me in this, we did lots more things that we would not have done (see activities!) and we survived many a pub visit without beer. The hardest night out for me was CN's birthday - a pub crawl down Brauny Gate on my first alc free Friday night, with alc fuelled buddies. Verdict - If you are going to do this, do it together!!

The awards:

Best Non alcoholic beer: A toss up between Cobra Zero and Bavaria 0.0%.
Worst non-acl beer: Becks - it's shit.
Best Non alcholic drink: Fever Tree Ginger Ale
Best pub for non drinkers: Always the Pump and Tap, second place Dry Dock, cos there's lots of distractions (mad video games where you shoot african wildlife not one for the veggies, sport on TV, pool, quiz machines etc)
Best night out without alcohol: Bowling - all the way. The horses was okay without a drink too.

That's all folks. This blog is closed. Bring on June 1st, bring on our camping trip so we can test the new tent, bring on Glastonbury, bring on a summer full of happy days.

Ps sorry for the general problems I have in spelling the word alcohol throughout.

Pps Kasabian was good. Were we the only ones not drinking? Yes we were.

The big day approaches

Going to see Kasabian tonight (and The Hours and Jersey Budd, in support) alchohol free of course. Not that I am too bothered, as in only two days time I'll be drinking again. JB at work has just checked the weather report - 22 degrees, sunshine, so R and I have made an executive decision - Pump and Tap straight after work, then Red Cow in LFE for dins.

YEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSS!

Putting the neeeiigh in Neighbours

Went to the horses with R, came out a mere 4 quid down, after operating a strict £6 per race betting maximum. R at least won a couple of times, which is good, as I was slightly worried she would never come to the races agian if she didn't. The last race was a bit of a fiasco for the poor bookies due to 5 non-runners, which meant queueing to get your winnings at the end was a long process - we discovered this after queueing for ten minutes to pick up R's £1.62 prize.

We tried a number of betting 'systems'.

1. Just pick a name you like.
2. Study the form in the racecard.
3. Go out to the paddock and see if your horse looks like it has 'good legs' (the words of a horsey type next to us).
4. Go out to the paddock and see if your horse looks at you. If it looks into your eyes then go for it, if it winks at you, or even waves its hoof in your direction, buy the damn thing and take it on a world tour.

Obviously the being £4 down at the end of the day speaks for itself - these betting 'systems' have varying, and not guaranteed success.

We ended the day back at our eating smoked salmon(smoked it myslef in a biscuit tin - see http://www.jamieoliver.com/recipes/fish-recipes/smoked-salmon-with-chilli-salsa!) and watching a DVD of 'classic' Neighbours episodes. R was in hysterics, mainly at the hilarious death scenes (Todd! Jim!) the ridiculous silent wedding (Scott and Charlene - though classic track by Angry Anderson, 'Suddenly', saves the scene) and just the sheer enjoyment of reliving 1988-1991.

The worst scene was Libby and Drew's wedding when Drew sings some sort of Hihland Laddie Tartan Jockstrap number to Libby (who bawls). The bad Sottish accents are up their with Anthony LaPaglia (Frasier) and Don Cheadle's (Ocean's 11) English accents as the Worst Attempts at a Foreign Accent by a Professional Actor of all Time.

In the words of that long haired boke of the Friday Night Project *- 'Good Times'.

*R now wants him to do a 'Bring Back...Neighbours' episode now (if you haven't seen it, he does a program where he attempts to reunite the cast of a film or TV show by just generally stalking them.)

Heneken Cup Final

23rd May - Watched Heineken Cup Final in Pump and Tap (actually outside the P&T, as they've got a screen out there which is wicked, as the sun was shining too). Tigers lost, but played well, no doubt they'll say it was a game too far in their season - which is a fair point.

This week's Customer Service Award goes to Gaz and Alex (bar staff at the pump) who actually bothered to re-stock the fridge with Alcohol Free Holsten Pils knowing that we were there...Might have to buy one of those Save the Pump and Tap (it might get knocked down soon) T-Shirts to reciprocate.

Why you never see Elle Macpherson in Dolcis

At college tonight (yes, I am a Born Again Student, and I get discount at New Look and Indian taakeways) the teacher handed out our next assignment. I usually get excited at the thought of a new assignment, but something the teacher (tutor? lecturer?) said was reverberating around my head.

"Hand it in at the start of the next lesson....on June 1st".

June the 1st, June the 1st..........Oh My Dear God (OMDG in textspeak) June the sodding 1st!!!!!!! That is the day I can drink again, the day I hope I will be savouring a pint of Carlsberg in an Oz Clarke kind of way.

I have two weeks to come up with a cast iron excuse (we can only miss one lesson or we fail the course, and I think I am at Glasto for one of them).

Here's a few for starters...

1. Fleetwood Mac are playing at the Charlotte, which is re-opening and I am the official photographer (as I am 'studying' photography, they'll like this).

2. Leicester City ladies have reached the Womens Champions League final, and I play for them at right back (clearly, no-one knows anything about women's football as it is rubbish, so this is almost feasible, as the men's final is that week too).

3. I am Elle Macpherson's foot double, in her latest modelling shoot (it's a little known fact that Elle MacPherson has size 11 feet, and explains why photographs of her usually are cut off at the ankles).

Wait a minute, these are not excuses, it's just a list of my ideal ways to spend a day - bugger!

Back to the drawing board.

Holdin on to me knickers at Twickers

Another day, another national rugby stadium without even a thimble full of beer. Another tense affair (a 10-9 win for Leicester) with emotions reeling between wanting to be sick with nerves and elation. Are these feelings better or worse without alchohol? Better, says M, because you can remember them. Maybe she is right.

As I sank a Cobra Zero (best alc free beer yet) on the bus I could only agree, and yesterday I probably saved myself a bleedin fortune by only drinking one coke the whole time we were there.

Feels normal not to drink now, but still - roll on June the 1st.

Theatre intervals

The nice thing about going to the theatre without drinking is that at the interval you don't have to fight old ladies to get to the bar first, and you are not praying for the end of the show so you can run to the loo, because the pint you downed in ten minutes flat is suddenly seeming like a bad idea.

I have been to the theatre twice in my six week 'stretch' (which by the way fact fans is now past the halfway point - woo hoo). Once to see Light in the Piazza at the Curve (brilliant) and tonight to see Chicago at DMH (love it). I spent pretty much zilch at either show, which is nice, though these monetary savings will only serve to fund the fact that we seem to be following Leicester Tigers to the four corners of the earth at the mo (well Cardiff and Twickenham, on Sat).

June the 1st still seems a long way away, but it seems pretty normal not to drink now!!!

Scroll to the bottom for another poll....

Does my bum look big in this?

You may be wondering why I have not mentioned my weight in a while. You may not. Either way, the reason is because I have not lost any. And the rogue 4 pounds that I seemed to gain then lose is back, the bitch.

Yesterday I cycled 8 miles then played tennis. Today I cycled 6 miles. What is going on? I can only assume that my flab is toning up and turning to muscle (though hopefully not in a Madonna kind of way).

Bugger.

Rumour has it

Went to watch 'Rumours of Fleetwood Mac' last night, a tribute band of (well I'll let you work that out).

They are actually rather good, and are really good musicians, before those reading get all snobby about tribute bands. What made the night all the more interesting (apart from the Coca Cola I was drinking) was the audience themselves.

At the front dancing all night was a threesome a girl with her boyfriend and her mate. The boyfriend had plenty of rhythm but his Posh Spice pout combined with a sort of gay moonwalk, crossed with my trademark early noughties running man dance was fairly annoying, and he wouldn't leave his (far too attractive for him) bird alone. Mine and R's fave dance move of the eve was when he pretended to lassoo his bird and pull her towards him. Hilarious to watch, wish I could have You-tubed it. The mate, needless to say, looked fairly nauseated all night.

The other 'character' of the eve was a middle aged bloke with shorts, a denim jacket and a straw hat, who was rockin out to some Peter Green era 'Mac' and making devil horn hand signs at the band. Straw hat man then chose to light a fag near the stage!!!!! He was pounced upon very quickly by his missus, who held up a 'STOP! Don't come any nearer!' hand at one of the stewards, then removed the fag from his mouth. We got the impression that this was not the first time she'd had to reprimand him...After his missus dat down the bloke turned round to the audience and shouted (well loud) "COME OON YOU MISERABLE F*%KERS!!!". The bird spent the rest of the night sat on his knee so he couldn't get up.

That, my friends, is what the demon drink will do to you.

Scroll....

....to bottom of page, I've added a poll, just because I can!

Clarification

Just to clarify, I wrote something about being 'sober enough to see and hear the Cardiff fans clearly' which in hindsights suggests that I (at the rugby) am normally too bladdered to be able to perform two of the human body's basic functions (seeing and hearing). This is actually quite false, it's just that normally I am a couple of pints to the better, and paying more attention to what's happening on the field than to the abusive Welsh tw*ts next to me.

Also, don't think yesterday's blog told the full story - when R and I got to Cardiff, we went to a pub (the Owain Gyndyr) and asked for a non-alchoholic beer. Cue sarcy (sarcastic, not saucy) comments from a fellow barman, and our barman scouring every single fridge before declaring, "No sorry".

We left sharpish and went to another unpronouncable Welsh pub next door. There waiting for us was Alc free Becks. The barman had to decant it into plaggy pint glasses as we were standing outside the pub. We got him to chuck another bottle each in the glass, so to the outside world we just looked like two ordinary rugby fans enjoying a pint. But looks can be deceiving, halfway down the glass and we couldn't stand the taste of it any more.

The moral - alc free shandy tastes okay - on its own drink only in small doses.

Tiiiiiiii-geeeeerrs!

Almost cannot believe how the game went yesterday - Tigers 14 points ahead until 6 minutes before end of game where Cardiff scored two similar tries in two minutes. A draw at full time, and no scores in extra time meant PENALTIES. In rugby. First for the Heineken Cup apparently, first time in 25 years in the sport.

Johne Murphy missed on on the first five, but then James missed for Cardiff and it went to sudden death - then thank god, and thank my lucky socks, which I will not be washing before next weeks Premiership Semi Final - Martin Williams missed, and Jordan Crane formerly of the West Brom football academy slotted his penalty home.

Meanwhile, back in the stands, Rachel and I endured all of this nursing only a cup of tea to calm our frayed nerves. There was so much bouncing around that most of mine ended up on the bloke in front but he didn't seem to mind.

Good day for Leicester, more sporting success for our city and the best team won on the day - bad day for Cardiff whose football team also lost, and failed to make the Championship play offs.

Yes, there was something special about singing 'Swing Low, Sweet Chariot' and being sober enough to see and hear the Cardiff fans reaction. Satisfying to say the least.

Millennium Eve

No it's not New Year's Eve 1999, it's the night before me and R (sorry TJ, R and I) go to watch Leicester Tigers play Cardiff at the Millennium Stadium. Though I do not condone racism in any form, I must admit that the Welsh (especially where rugby is concerned) absofrigginlutely do my swede in. Listening to their cocky anti-English opinions through a sober afternoon will not be music to my ears. The sober part is going to be a bit strange surrounded by drunken taffs.

I can't imagine saying, "Ooh Rach, Tigers have just scored a try, let's ava cuppa tea." How very English.