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I’m sure this is not what you want to see (boils/danman) when two guys swing into a party. Massive apologies have been sent round the past few days. Ronnie’s behaviour was impeccable apart from falling into next door’s restaurant but I managed offend half the people in there by falling over, knocking drinks and being overly boisterous shall I say. It was Istanbul’s one-year anniversary and a huge bash entailed. About 130 followers of the Nev and Young Soo Mantra arrived and despite my best efforts, a good time was had by all.
Before the meal I’d headed to Ronnie’s house with a 1.75l bottle of Jim Beam in tandem with some Baek Saju. Once that was near polished and along with John, the local BBQ pork restaurant was submitted to our drunken pleasures. Our ravenous throats consumed around 15 big bottle of beer, the owner drinking with us and apparently having a great laugh even as the drunken way of Dan began.
Our arrival into Istanbul was greeted with ironic cheers. I personally have no memory of arriving or much else. The night ended with me at a girl’s house, a jaunt to hooker hill, followed by an egg sandwich and a sleep on a bench. Classy eh? A sense of guilt compound my whiskey hangovers especially as I can usually barely remember what happened. And this time the feeling was right.
So what to do? Do I want to give up drinking? Do I have to? While I have it under control on weekdays, once I start, I’m like a rapist around alcohol. And doing stupid things is not always forgivable even though those here have forgiven me at the moment. As I know from myself though, forgiving is far easier than forgetting. I guess its two steps forward, one step back.
I’ve wondered what I’m missing in my life. As you get older, there are always trade-offs; being married or 100% free is one of the most obvious. I’ve seen my friends in relationships and the compromises are instantly recognisable. But it gives those friends a balance that I don’t have, a controlling valve to mitigate the worst of excess. Nev talked the other night about the size of his wardrobe. After meeting YS, it’s increased markedly from the backpacker size through a sense of stability. Scott has that same quality in his life. I am sensing that’s where I need to go and the compromise is stability, be that a place or a girlfriend.
At present, I have my rucksack with me, one of my best friends, lonestar and I’ve had a lot of luck over the years. My bag will stay with me for one more trip and then I will think. My friends have remained true but nights like Saturday cannot be repeated, for trust and friendship are two-way streets. Maybe it’s time I learnt what the simple pleasures in life are about. Like what Sunday mornings feel like.