Ever since that I've made a reputation for acheiving a few quick exits from many a birthday party. Or any party for that matter. A friend the other day threatened to tie herself to me in an effort to stop me escaping when no one was looking next time we were drinking together. Time will tell if i grow out of this phase - I guess when I've made my mind up to leave I can't be stopped.
The first rite of passage for many New Zealanders is the 21st birthday, an unfortunate event where one almost always ends up throwing up in front of their freinds after skulling a yardie. It's a horrible experience - or so I'm told: I left my 21st early and managed to miss out.
From twenty firsts come engagements, then marriages, then the 30th's and 40th's.
Whilst the horrors of batchelor parties abate, I will never be able to forget them all, even with serious therapy. Even today the words "half mast" can send many of my friends into post traumatic stress disorder.
Divorce has never really been something I've had to deal with. Ok, it happens, and I'm very lucky to have seen the best in my friends during this trying time. I'd imagine it's a hard thing to go through - perhaps even more horrible than the yardie - but to go through it publically for the whole world to see, must be horrible.
So spare a nice thought for Reece this week, and if you see a "womans magazine" with a down and dirty expo article on their marriage split, do yourself (and them) a favour, and leave the mag on the shelf.
Lovely - they say.
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