Normal service will resume...

You'll have noticed I've been lying low, blogwise, for the last week or so. Partially it's recovery from the Comedy Festival, which means A) I've not been going out much or getting up to anything really blogworthy in the last seven or so days, and B) what has been going on, such as my flatmate buying his first apartment, I've either been too tired to blog about or it just hasn't been that exciting, eg fuelling my nostalgic spirit by catching up on old episodes of Doctor Who from the Hartnell, Troughton and Pertwee eras. Talk about painting the town red!

On top of all that, my preoccupation with comedy and the general chaos of my life meant that last week the phone was cut off at home, as I hadn't had time to pay the bill, and consequently I also lost my internet connection. Ack! It's like losing part of your brain! I hadn't realised just how often and how useful the net was until my access to it was suddenly terminated. Hopefully when I get home from work tonight it will be back on-line, so I can continue to detail the fascinating minutiae of my life for you all...

That said, I have been occasionally kicking up my heels. Last Saturday, for instance, I started the night at Enoteca for a long overdue catch-up over a glass of wine with Tim and Lefa and their mate Steve; moved on up to road to the truly scrumptious tapas bar Anada with Mike and a couple of his friends to celebrate his becoming a home-owner; then headed into the city to have birthday drinks with an old and dear friend, Martin (who's turned 41 about three and a half months before I will) and our mutual girlfriend, Kerryn, who was on one of her regular flying visits from Hong Kong.

We started out at Spleen, moved on to Madame Brussels, thence to The Rooftop, and eventually to Kerryn's hotel room for champagne. When everyone else piked I headed on to The Peel for a nightcap or three - shots, as I recall, with Ryan from Anada - before finally staggering through the front door at 7am...

There was a point, about 2am at the Rooftop, when another of our friends turned to me and asked, "What would be a typical Saturday night for you these days, Richard?"

I pondered the question for a moment, looked around me at the highrise lights of the city that encircle the bar atop Curtin House, gestured with my drink, and said, "Oh, this."