Bottle of wine before I go out. First club - loads of mates, drinks, drinks, leave 2.00 drunk as hell, nearly pass out on the nightbus to: Second club - feeling too, too drunk so get a pill down me fast, dancing by the speaker, chain-smoking spliffs, hands in the air, too much by 6, leave, pass out on the nightbus, get home, gnarly dark comedown in bed, too tired to move, too pilled-up to sleep, hangover coming in, manage to fall asleep about 10.

Up again at 12, down to Tescos buying nibbles I don't want and vodka I do want for my birthday party at Alison's, get there, try and fail to put bits of cheese onto cocktail sticks, drink vodka, first guests arrive, fall asleep momentarily in my chair, drink more, feel better, more people: lively, fun, everyone happy and I know everyone. Smoke a bit of spliff and want to collapse on the kitchen floor, fight it, drink more vodka, feel better, smoke more, feel better, dancing in the front room to O Superman, Underground Resistance, Ray Keith, Pet Shop Boys. Notice Nick filming us. Rob drops Idiot Boy's iPod on the floor, it bounces. I'm fucking destroyed, know I could carry on, know I shouldn't. Pull a quilt over me about 5.

My birthday is the only time of the year when I let myself act the way I want to act all year. And when I do, it's just fucking knackering. I really don't know how drug addicts and alcoholics do it. I was in a right state afterwards: sneezing uncontrollably (why I don't know), coughing my guts up (fags, weed and bongs screened with aluminium foil), woozy, queasy and tired. But I don't get this bad too often.

23/12/4 - Drive up to Leeds

Traffic gets really, really bad on the M1 just before Sheffield - so near but yet so far. Find out part of the motorway has been closed down. Turn off to drive through some Derbyshire back roads to Chesterfield, but the traffic is even worse. The only tapes I've brought with me are some bad quality rave mixes from the Eclipse in '92. Sat listening to hours of helium vocals, hardcore stabs and background hiss. This actually improves the situation, we sit stuck solid in traffic for hours on end giggling away.

It took 11 hours to get from London to Leeds. We stop in at Alison's mum's boyfriends to pick up Alison's keys, surprise surprise he's pissed as a fart and won't let us leave. Alison wants a small vodka and tonic before we leave, he makes it really strong so she has to stay. Fuck that. We drive to Keighley drunk.

Christmas Eve.

Go to Clitheroe with my mum to spend the day sourcing the famous nebbish christmas day cheeseboard. Really getting into the Christmas spirit now. Clitheroe is lovely - misty rain, Pendle Hill glimpsed far off between the houses. Unfortunately my cheeseboard was a bit poor this year - I got carried away with various Lancashire and Wensleydale cheeses, which all tasted the same.

Christmas Day

Woken up by my old Woolwich flatmate ringing the doorbell at 10am. "What the fuck are you doing here?" He decided to stop in at my parents on the way to visit his in Harrogate. Weird. He gives me a Christmas card and says he'll come back in the evening, but that's the last I see of him.

Major presents result: cash for a (inexpensive) digital camera, Reggie Perrin boxed set off my sister (wasn't expecting that one, brilliant though), and loads of books: How to be Idle, The Right Nation, The London Compendium, Stasiland. I've nearly finished most of them and shall report on them next week.

Finish off the day drinking expensive madeira, smoking weed and playing Trivial Pursuit, then just before bed me and Alison decide to have a quick blast on Wario Ware Mega Party Games. Finally stagger off to bed at about 6.

27/12/4 - Alison's Birthday

The usual trawl round whatever bars are open in Leeds City Centre at this dead time of year. They were all fucking awful so we piled back to Alison's for whisky and weed. A couple of people I hadn't seen since school were out, really nice to see them. One was in the RAF - I asked him if he'd killed a man, he said no. The problem with Alison's birthday is we're all partied out by then. She's thinking of going for a meal or something next year instead.

28/12/4 onwards

Didn't really want to go back to London so went back with my sister to Sheffield for a few days. Did a great bit of urban exploration at Riber Castle in Matlock - I've written it up on my website. Came down with a really bad cold the next day, the worst I've had in years, which completely ruined my New Years Eve. Whilst my sister and her boyfriend went off to a party in Manchester, I lay on their sofa shivering and watching Seinfeld DVDs. Couldn't even summon the energy to get up and swap the scarts over so I could watch telly. Utterly miserable.

But fuck it, the rest of the holiday was great and I came back to work on Tuesday feeling strangely refreshed. I love Christmas me, it's great. Anyone who says otherwise is a miserable get.