UNEXPECTED NEWS JUST IN!

Fuck me sideways! I think I was the only person on this pesky island of ours that had expectations of a good night and had them fucking well met. Everywhere the cult of the new year rejectees festers and grows and hogmanay is relegated to an overated holiday even worse than valentines day. But I stand surrounded on all sides isolated on a lonely out crop of joy sustained by the firm belief that it can be good if you just give it a chance. Sure we have all been decieved by new years eve but they are not all bad, trust me.

Festivities started with dropping off of supplies at the afterparty venue, a quick stiffner and onto our Thai restraunt. Small diversion via pub. Girls leave in tribe to initiate a new member, a friends friend who had I must confess a small look of apprehension in her eyes as she was escorted out. Another stiffner for the road. Arrival at the restraunt revealed the true motives behind the girls departure, a dastardly seating plan of boy girl boy girl. What were we to do now that our clan had been dispersed, vulnerable to conversations that included hair products and not enough dick jokes by half. It was a trial of will but we persevered through cunning application of the spinning thing in the middle of the table to pass notes and swap alcohol.

Quick exit, cowboy boots clicking off the cobble stones, camoflage kilt swaying in time to my forced stride. Had recieved word that the secondary team was in position at the ceilidh and had made preparations for my arrival. Slight diversion as Wet Wet Wet had correndoned of a doorway to play in at the top of Union Street, but otherwise made good time with relatively few queer jibes. Venue was the Lemon Tree and to maximise the impact of what few lights they had and to hide the high munter quioxent it was darker than the pits of hell in the place. My LED belt was a positive supernova of brightness in that dark realm, people would huddle around what poor light it cast watching HAPPY scroll endless from right to left; I couldn't work out how to programm the damn thing, it had a paltry 3 buttons and I totally failed to understand it.

The count down. People frantically dragging friends onto the dance floor and into groups to kickstart the flagging dancing .

The Bells. People rejoice, hug strangers, try to avoid awkward situations, get in awkward situations, leave hurredly for the bar, hug more starngers, do a strange jig that is usally only seen in old pirate movies.

January 1st 2007 began with momentum in a sedate battle against the wind towards the golden land of music, warmth, disco trousers, alcohol, Isaac, medicince and most importantly more or less everyone who is important to me in Aberdeen. Twas a grand affair with merriement in high levels, a varied group was gathered after suprisingly few casualties on route. Changed and ready to play gifts were given, tunes were badly sung, my shaggy ass spun across the dance floor and a considerable quantity of bullshit was exchanged. Eyeballs that glow and roll are my new favourite blinky, must remember to stock up whilst I am in town. Things started to descend as such things are want to do and the end seemed horribly close. But a change of venue was supplied by a vetenary surgeon/ ex-clubwear stockist/ extremely freindly girflriend of a friend in the arse end of nowhere (or so it seemed at the time). A quick raid for supplies followed with an orderly rounding up of stragglers seen the remaning hogamany refugees strolling through the pre-dawn streets hailing down anything vaguely motorised and taxi looking.

Sunrise found me sitting on an old oak bench, overlooking the north sea in the grounds of Muchalls Castle, as the sun peaked over the horizon, supping a delightful vodka orange (or for some reason sometimes also known as a screwdriver). Walking of a hand signal trained hunting dog through the dew blanketed grass was an unexpected start to a new year. Whats more I was coherent enough to still appreciate the moment, something that would have been inconcieviable a year ago. Getting home proved a challenge. Delivering survivors back to their car was no problem. Getting home again proved a challenge, a car infront of me ploughing through a flock of sheep creating a hideous scene of dismembered sheepy bits, really tested me there. 1.5 hours later after all the carcasses had been bulldozed away and the worse of the gore cleaned I continue onwards to the haven of one duvet, one TV and one sofa.

Given old temptations with old friends to fall into old behaviour, I resisted under duress and managed to do so with sufficient flair as to do myself proud.

All the best for your new year, together we can stop this tide of hatred towards our hogmanay

Dougaldutch