If I was in show business, I'd be resting from 'exhaustion'

The Croation high-dive judge brought Quan Ling Bo's dreams of Olympic Gold crashing down.Unfortunately, I'm not, and have to settle for the infinitely less glamourous and infinitely more humiliating 'alcoholic'. Still, at least I didn't launch into an anti-semetic tirade at any police officers and be forced to deliver a televised apology about my 'disease'.

Yes, ladies and germs, the Baron set sail for home shores, blissfully unaware of the planned family intervention awaiting him. There was wailing, some teeth knashing, and then, in the cold light of day, I had to accept the booze had overtaken my life and was ruining pretty much every relationship I had. Which came as a bit of a surprise, as I wasn't even aware anything was the matter.

Picture, if you will, the scene from the film Dumb & Dumber when Jim Carrey's character is asleep at the wheel, dreaming of entertaining his dream girl's clique of richy ski-resort types, throwing handfuls of peanuts into his mouth, lighting farts and having all in stitches. This was kind of how I pictured myself when drunk, which now I think about it, was pretty much all the time I wasn't sleeping it off. Now picture a loud, stinking, and intensely irritating 'friend' who bangs on your door at two in the morning, eyes glazed and mouth slobbering, demanding you break out the wine and Jim Carrey videos.

That, I am afraid to say, was probably me.

I could wax lyrical about all my manifold personal problems, deconstruct my own psyche and erect a pretty decent fort of justifactions and excuses for my reliance on booze, but let's just say I loved drinking pretty much more than anything else, and used alcohol as buffer against reality and normaldom.

So, I'm nearly two weeks into it and am sorry to report the cravings to crack a beer, er, let's be honest now, bottle of whiskey, haven't abated much. In a couple of hours I'm back into my first kindergarten class, and my tiny shoebox apartment is already shitting me. I am also drinking shitloads of Coke.

Anyway, a day at a time as they say.

So anyway, I apologise to Hans, Kinko, Ben, Chuck, Vince and everyone for not showing up for our planned party in Melbourne. I felt like I couldn't see you guys because I don't think I could have resisted the urge to get hammered one last time with you all. So I figured I would keep myself out of temptation's way for the time being.

Miss you all... next year, fellas. And thanks Vince and Kinko for the kind words.

Ah, the dreary hand of sobriety.