Canterbury in the South East

After Warwick we drove down to Newbury (West of London) and stayed in a hotel next door to the theatre. David commented that his hotel room was probably closer to the stage than the dressing room in some of the theatres we've been to.

In Newbury we celebrated Nikita's 5th birthday with an overdose of chocolate (chocolate cake with chocolate ice cream). We all screamed the devil out of the cake as Tom was cutting it, and the other people who happened to be in the theatre cafe at that point must have thought we were mad.



Today we are in Canterbury.
I took a bus into town to get a haircut, and first of all I nearly had a fight with the people of Toni and Guy. They didn't have time to cut my hair so I asked if there was an other hairdresser near (bad manners, I know). The woman pointed vaguely into some random direction and said: 'down there, but I don't know what the quality is like'. To which I replied: 'it's just a haircut, I'm sure they can do it'. She gave me a very angry look and I left.

I found another hairdresser which wasn't part of a chain and which was far less expensive. While my hair was being washed, I sat in a massage chair, and if it hadn't been for the show tonight, I'd probably still be there.
As I expected, the haircut was fine (not quite as impressive as my Chinese haircut, but I don't have time to go to China for a haircut, so I'll live with it).

On the way back I overheard some students discussing the cheapest way to get wasted. The result of their comparison was cider: cheaper than wine, same percentage, and they could get a lot more of it. They also tried to calculate for how long they'd have to drink at home to be drunk enough to be able to go into town and not have to spend too much money on alcohol to get completely hammered.

And I wonder: is talking about getting drunk beyond words as 'cool' as actually getting immensely drunk? And is either of it 'cool' at all?
Or am I just getting old?