Cogs can think.

Every so often, you realise just how lucky you are.

I spent the entire weekend (photos!) on a boat in the harbour of Groningen with some of my best friends. We drank (a lot), and the die hards played board and card games until 6 in the morning - obviously, I’m so totally a die hard. The first night, a few of us got pretty up, up, and away (Martini Bianco (my favourite), Disaronno Amaretto (another favourite of mine), Malibu (another favourite), vodka (don’t like that one), beer (I don’t do beer), and wine (I don’t do wine either)), and it showed. I’ve been told a few things I will keep for myself. For good reason.

The second night, the alcohol barely flowed, and I didn’t touch it at all. We played Risk until we dropped - a three hour game. The fun of Risk is that you can just feel the “love” in the room - people get more and more arrogant, possessive, and bloodthirsty as the game goes on. Which leads to the inevitable ‘tapping‘ - where you just tap on a territory you want to attack, while uttering something along the lines of “Die, and get the fcuk out.”

Lot and I made a pact - a gentleman’s agreement not to attack one another, and to help one another if needed. Not liked by the other players, but not against the rules. In the words of the evening, Lot’s pink Gaylord Empire (a.k.a. Hitler) made a deal with Thom’s green ‘Vegan Streaker Empire’ (a.k.a. Mussolini). Trust me - don’t ask. Really.

A few of us went to bed fairly early the second night, but Marco, Annemarie, Nadia, Lot, and I continued playing card games until 6 in the morning.

Sunday morning, we were all pretty much dead. I managed to use Lot’s camera to make a photo I really like - Lot resting on Annemarie’s shoulder.

The good thing about weekends like this is that it’s not all just lighthearted fun, drinking, and entertainment. It’s serious stuff too. I’ve had brilliant conversations and moments with Martin and Marco, out on the rainy deck, looking out over the water, and during the first evening, we discussed one of my more painful moments with regards to a certain girl I used to, uhm, like.

But the thing that surprised me most is that I discussed ‘my brothers’ with Lot, during a walk through Groningen in the middle of the night, after we snuck off the boat. I never discuss ‘my brothers’ with anyone except my parents and Renate. I guess Lot and I have a tendency to sneak away, even though we barely get to see each other, and we in fact don’t know each other all that well. We did exactly the same thing 2.5 years ago in La Roche - only there it resulted in something with a graveyard and putting ‘gl’ in front of everything.

All this just makes me realise how lucky and happy I really am to have such friends. I am tired, though.