Spirits on the Up

I write to you in a smelly, unshaven and slightly tired state. Some might put my general grumpiness down to what is popularly called a 'hangover'; I would not be so bold.

Journalists are meant to be exciting, interesting people who live on the edge. This is, at least, how it comes accross on the TV. The reality is lugging equipment up and down hills, getting wet and feeling shattered most of the time. I can see whgy so many journalist like (need?) a good drink at the end of the day! Despite this, the buzz is still incredable and I was sitting at this computer looking at news wires as they came in and getting very excited over how I would cover a story. Journalism for all its labour and poor pay is a wonderful industry to be starting in. So, in the spirit of investigation and with the aim of finding more stories, I always go for a drink post-sing.

Following a couple at The West End pub I found myself in a taxi ... on the way to the conductor's and his wife's house with six other singers. At three thirty this morning I found myself on the lounge floor, on a matress with two other guys. What happened in between is a tad of a blur. Alcohol of various varieties was involved and discussions of everything from music to sex (though the two are closer linked than you would first think!) . A very pleasurable evening. Just a tad surreal. As usual, a mine of stories and I may have found myself a new Church.

That said, these moments are made to make us. At times, letting your hair down is all part of growing-up. It was just good to feel at last part of a group. Over the last few days my life has seemed to come together spiritually, emotionally and journalistically.

One happy bunny signing off,
CJGx