Day 26. I've come as Charles Trenet (26/1/19)

So, we went to a party. A rare event for me, something like having a social life.

And I'm paying for it today.

I didn't drink much. Three beers at the quiz before going out, three glasses of wine at the party, only stayed out to two. None of those 'substances' that are so fashionable among the young people nowadays. Three beers, half a bottle of wine, hangover, head not dealing with the day at all.

It was a young people's party. At some point J will kill me for going on about how old I am but there's comedy value in it. There's an understanding that my body is of a certain vintage. My mentality? Never got past my early twenties if we're totally honest. My personal feeling is that nobody ever really gets past their early twenties. We're all still trying to figure out who we are and what we want to do and hoping nobody realises we're making all this shit up as we go along, until the day we retire.

And we're fairly sure we're the only one that feels this way. Fairly sure we're the one who'll get found out.

And the truth is, we're not. We're not the only one. Everybody else is hiding the same stuff from us that we're hiding from them.

"Oh no, love, you're not alone" as our greatest ever entertainer once put it.

(Switches soundtrack from  that of 'yesterday' - ie five minutes ago - to Bowie's 'Ziggy' for 'Rock'n'Roll Suicide')

Anyway, the party. The party was for lovely people that I work with in theatre and contained a lot of other lovely people that I've worked with or will work with at some point in the future, both near and far, on the plays yet to be written. A birthday party. With a theme. An 'Under The Sea' theme and the promise/threat of fancy dress.

I've done fancy dress twice: once in the early eighties for a mate's sister's 18th. I hired a costume, went as an Arab. Full mask and everything. Think there may actually be a touch of institutional racism in that. The other time? A friend's 40th. A seventies night. You'd be amazed how easy it was to construct an authentically seventies costume purely by shopping in H&M at the time. Sideburns inked in with eyeliner, I looked amazing.

The argument I made earlier about mentality never reaching past mid twenties? Contradicted somewhat by the fact that I looked at the notion of fancy dress and went, "No."

We get there, everybody looks fabulous, all vaguely nautical, me and J dressed for a very normal night out. There are those who have gone to real effort. My contribution to the theme? "We've come as Salmon, was more do you want?"

There was music, a set of decks in the corner. An advance on our younger days where there was 'a deck'. One deck, take a seven inch single off, wait for the needle to hit the next before the dancing resumes. The future is aiming for seamless, everything mixed into the next thing.

There was music I didn't recognise, music that I did but disliked, and there was one moment of utter joy: in amongst all the modernity, the song that filled the floor beyond all others was Cornershop's 'Brimful of Asha' - a song released when the majority of the room were in infants.

Proof positive. Our generation has had the best music. It all went downhill after I turned 40.

I started the evening wondering if I were too old for such a night, ended it having had a perfectly excellent time.

But ended it early. I have a sneaking suspicion it may still be going on now but you've got to know your limits haven't you?

I know my limits.