Heart Cooks Brain

See, the thing about going to see Modest Mouse was that I only purchased my ticket 24 hours in advance. I ended up in a seat that was in line with the stage on a swivel chair about 20 meters from Johnny Marr. Oh yes, this was the luck of the disorganized. Marianne (De Leo) convinced me that I should go and I felt a bit guilty when I ended up having better seats than her and Lods.

Royal Albert Hall is pretty amazing. There are flying saucer shaped disks suspended from the roof for acoustics, but the place is huge and ornate.

To be honest, my only though once I was seated was – why do bands even bother going to Perth? You sell out a venue like RAH and I hate to think how much money you would make. It is ridiculous. And it isn’t like London is that far from anything else. A European tour would make so much more money than anything you could do in Australia. I have decided that bands that both to make the trip to the southern hemisphere must really love their fans.

But, that wasn’t the case for me. So I sat and watched Billy childish support (funny, weird, dressed like they escaped the First World War) and then the blistering Modest Mouse set. Acoustically, things were a bit off and I swear to God I couldn’t make out a single lyric the entire night. Or anything that they said when Isaac Brock or Johnny Marr decided on a bit of crowd interaction. As silly as it sounds, it didn’t really matter that much. The level of intensity was high and

Highlights included Float On (of course). Are You Dead Or Are You Sleeping?, Missed the Boat and Dashboard. I was also very enthused about seeing 2 drummers drum perfectly in sync. Nutty.

It was strange looking down on the crowd and seeing those with standing tickets jump up and down, smoke cigarettes seeing only the glowing orange ends and realizing that indie kids in Perth have WAY better dress sense. I’m not joking. The cool kids in Perth seem cooler than the cool kids in London. Or maybe the cool kids in London don’t go to Modest Mouse concerts. If that’s the case, they can’t be that cool.

Anyway, one of things I liked most about the evening was at the end when a couple of kids who were crowd surfing got dumped over the barrier. The bouncers got a bit rough with them and Isaac (while continuing to sing and play) yelled at and grabbed the bouncers to stop them from beating up the kids who clearly just wanted to be nearer the band. He had another go at the bouncers at the end of the concert as well. Very cool given the bouncers were just being unnecessarily rough and ridiculous. I hate it when bouncers turn nasty for no other reason than the fact that they can generally get away with manhandling whoever they want without any repercussions.

As the title would suggest, this was a pretty damned cool experience even though it wasn't perfect. Despite the sound issues being at RAH and seeing Johnny Marr from THE SMITHS and listening to a kick arse band rock out was pretty much as cool as it sounds.

And apparently, according tothe late night news, this is the week that celebrates the 30th Anniversary of the Sex Pistols singing 'God Save The Queen'.

Excellent.

If I'm not back in 5 minutes...wait longer!

I started work today and there was an unexpected surprise waiting for me when I got there. On my desk there was what looked like a first aid kit, and I joked that I hoped this wasn't meant to indicate that I was a First Aid Officer.

I'm not. We all have them. They are Survival Packs. That is, if someone bombs our building, I am meant to pick up this survival pack and run down the stairs with it. Well, not run, the survival guidelines follows Hitchhikers' Rules (Don't Panic!) and tell me to walk in a quick, yet orderly, fashion. I suppose that if you are going to work for a large, American company it shouldn't come as a surprise that they feel they could be targets of a terrorist threat. Especially when the word ' America' features prominently in the company name.

However, on closer inspection it becomes obvious that my pack isn't so much suited to surviving a major disaster as launching a very tops Saturday night out.

Your Average BoA Survival Pack™ includes:

FM Auto Scan Radio – to hear all those pop hits while trapped under debris.
A glow stick – in case the radio lays down some wicked dance beats.
A Beam Ring – to create that party vibe with lasers.
Goggles – a necessity for any well dressed disaster survivor/raver
Drinking Water – everyone knows that you need to rehydrate when you're clubbing under the rubble.
Boiled lollies – I think my pack may be missing this. And no, I didn't already eat them.

So there you go. You may be fatally wounded and trapped beneath what used to be your desk, but you can still have a jolly good time. This is the kind of positivity I like in an employer.

You take a trip to the city lights, and take the long way home

I had the longest, most hilarious trip back from Cambridge last night.
I missed the train from Cambridge, ended up at the wrong station, waited 25 minutes for the last Circle Line train, only to have it stop at Edgware Road, 3 stops shy of home.

THEN I got on a night bus the wrong way because I was chatting to an Australian girl I met and was distracted. Ended up at Mornington Crescent Station, where Ally (Australian Girl) and I met Jacko, the thong wearing, AFL playing, phys ed teacher from Victoria who very kindly asked us if we would like to go back to his house for a drink.

It was 2am. We politely declined.

Waited 35 minutes for teh next bus, only to have it be the same bus we got off but just heading back to where we came from.

Found a man on the bus who complimented us on our Australian accents and claimed to be a market trader. He had a Tweety Bird tattoo.

In other news - Mark's birthday party in Cambridge was great. A BBQ in a backyard in England? Who would have thought. Great night, I even met some actual English people! Cambridge was pretty and full of posh kids who looked stereotypically Oxbridge. It's a pretty town, lots of lawn and I briefly watched a game of cricket. And some punting, which seems to provide weekend employment for all Cambridge students who are willing to wear boat shoes and rugby jumpers.

That is all.

I'll read anything with a Daria picture in the header

I enjoyed this.
http://tinymixtapes.com/Search-for-Acceptance

The Internet is for Porn

Wow - getting a job has made me completely motivated to get out there and do tourist stuff on weekdays before it's too late and I have to join the American tourists on weekends. So - here is some of the cooler and more noteworthy stuff I have done this week.

Cheap Cocktails in Campden
This was a lot of fun - we didn't get royally sloshed or anything, but the cocktails were 2 for 1 and they were made properly by men who could put Tom Cruise in Cocktail to shame. They bounced glasses and bottles and threw things around. Then we shared an Oreo cookie cocktail and went for Thai food.

Equus
I went and saw Equus on Wednesday. It was fairly brilliant. For those of you who haevn't heard anything about it, it is the West End show with Daniel Radcliffe in it And Richard Griffiths for that matter. It was fairly intense - largely about psychiatry, adolescent disenfranchisement, sex, worship and passion. Sample quote:

Passion, you see, can be destroyed by a doctor. It cannot be created.

and again:

All right! The normal is the good smile in a child's eyes. There's also the dead stare in a million adults. It both sustains and kills, like a God. It is the ordinary made beautiful, it is also the average made lethal. Normal is the indispensable murderous God of health and I am his priest.

It was intense from beginning to end and Daniel Radcliffe did an amazing job - especially given he really is only 17 and the role was very demanding. And yes, he does get naked for quite a long time, but it isn't so much 'My God! Harry Potter is naked' but more 'That poor boy. His life is so monumentally fucked'.

The horse costumes were amazing as well. Giant metal contraptions that slipped over actors heads. They wandered around upright on 'horseshoes' that were metal platforms about 15cm high. Utterly stunning. Even the poster blew my mind, though perhaps it only gains its impact from seeing the play.




National Portrait Gallery
There are only so many paintings of pictures of people in neck ruffs any girl can handle. Fortunately, the Tudor monarchs (and friends) were balanced nicely by the Face of Fashion exhibition where there were a lot of naked photos of Kate Moss. I don't know if that's better, but at least there were no ruffs that were eerily reminiscent of year 12 production at Perth College.

My favourite picture from the Fashion exhibition was surprising, given that it was of Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, neither of whom I particularly love. Yet the bored suburbia that the picture evoked, as well as the colours, was amazing when it was blown up and took up nearly a whole wall.



The exhibition of Tony Blair at war (black and white photography) was also really powerful and intimate. He is a photogenic man and, more than anything, the exhibition really showed a thoughtful Prime Minister who believed in what he was doing. It was also strange seeing photos of him battling his parliamentary collegues over supporting the US at war. Given that this was a war I don't particulalry support, I was surprised at the degree of empathy I felt, looking at these photos, for a man who was forced to make a difficult decision. (Don't bother posting political argument Jon - I am talking about the ART. The argument as to whether that can ever be divorced from context can be discussed another time. Yet, now I remember that you're working at the Defence Department I realise you probably relate quite well to Mr Blair's predicament).

Anyway, the gallery is amazing. If you like looking at pictures of people. The way some artists capture the essence of their subject is eerie. It's not all lighting and props, it is just the skill of showing what someone is really like on film or in ink/paint.

Avenue Q
This is not traditional West End theatre. There are puppets. There is puppet sex (not quite as graphic as Team America but I was in row C - very close to the puppet sex, so it was much more disturbing). It was absolutely hilarious - as in I was laughing out loud for the whole first act and most of the second. I may see it again.

Song titles include 'The Internet Is For Porn', 'Everyone's A Little Bit Racist Sometimes' and 'What Do You Do With A BA in English?'. Sample lyrics include:

I wish I could go back to college.
In college you know who you are.
You sit in the quad, and think, "Oh my God!
I am totally gonna go far!"

from the song 'I Wish I Could Go Back To College'. It was eerily accurate. Other gems include:

NICKY:
Oh, Schadenfreude, huh?
What's that, some kinda Nazi word?

GARY COLEMAN:
Yup! It's German for "happiness at the misfortune of others!"

NICKY:
"Happiness at the misfortune of others." That is German!

Anyway, it was funny. I went with Wayne and Katie. We ate dinner in China Town and went for drinks afterwards.

And for all you Buffy/Angel/Little Britain fans: I bumped into Anthony Head as I was turning a corner. He'd just finished Spamalot for the night. He is very tall.

Pete Doherty's Art Exhibition at Bankrobber Gallery
I just got back from this. It is the biggest load of self-indulgent, self-obsessed nothing that I have seen to date. And I have been going to quite a few galleries. All the paintings involved him in some way and were smeared with his blood or had needles and tea spoons glued to them. They had very little artistic merit to my mind. It was an attempt to recreate the anarchist punk art of the 70's without the anger, the immediacy or the talent. Destroyed UK flags as an artistic statement surely died with the Sex Pistols, who did it better. Example:

All I am saying is that it is a good thing the boy is dating Kate Moss or he would haev drifted into drug fuelled obscurity. I say this as a big Libertines fan.


The best bit about the whole thing was the cupcake I bought at Hummingbird Bakery (best bakery in the world) on the way there.

Anyway, that's about all I have to say for now. I spent today shopping for work clothes and crying every time I had to buy something pointless and practical when I could have been buying cool, colourful things.

Back on the Chain Gang

Hello Dear Readers

I would like to announce that I am now gainfully employed. Yes. Me. The person who for the last couple of months has done nothing but look at churches, galleries etc. has a job. Actually, I was offered a couple of jobs and, not being a person who really likes decisions, this almost caused me to stop breathing. Anyway - the end result. I will be working for (drum roll please)...

Bank of America.
As a paralegal.
In their liquid products division.
Fo anyone who was there during my commerce degree, this will come as a surprise.

It paid too much for me to not take it, even though the Partner at Clifford Chance knew HEAPS about Asterix, Bob Dylan and Eminem. He was so interesting. I think I am going to like being a lawyer. But I couldn't assume that everyday would be discussing illusions to 'The Odyssey' in Asterix. Ah well.

I shall excerpt the most embarassing part of the interview now:

Him: How do you feel about country sports?
Me: You mean like hockey? I lived in the country and played sports. Is that what you mean?
Him: I meant things like pheasent shooting.
Me: And fox hunting?
Him: Yes.
Me: (realising this was not a good time to bring up 7 years of vegetarianism, an aversion to blood sports and not realy being that sporty in general) I grew up in the country. I'm used to it.

Playing the country card. Classic.

Different worlds. Country sports? Man, pheasent shooting was so beyond what would ever enter my mind.

Anyway, hopefully I will start on Monday. And the pounds will roll in and I can Live the London Life. Yay!

Except for I just figured out how much tax I will be paying. So less of the London Life than expected.

But I was never contractually obliged to sleep with foreign businessmen, alright? And that is not nothing, that is something.

I have a room in a house. And no, I am not obliged to sleep with foreign businessmen which was basically the only pre-requisite I ended up having in the London housing market.

My room is small, but it is mine. It looks like this:

If you tilt your head you will notice the big window in my room and if you put your head really close to the screen you will see the charming white doona with flowers embroidered in it.

This is the lounge room:



And this is the kitchen:

The house is on quiet street, but is 100 meters from Kensington High Street. It's kind've like living in Highgate but bigger. 5 minute walk from 2 cinemas (one arthouse, one mainstream), grocery stores, tube station, vintage clothes stores and Portobello Rd Markets and 10 minutes walk to Hyde Park. Great location.

Living with a girl called Rebecca who is just lovely and is a New York native. She has the Black Books boxset, Bill Bailey on DVD and a copy of Withnail & I. As well as The Merchant of Venice (Al Pacino verion). So, a woman of excellent taste.

Not much else to report. Except that this morning I went to Primark and stood in a queue for a change room for 30 minutes. for 28 pounds I bought 6 pairs of socks, two pairs of tights, a jumper, a dress top, a work top and a skirt. Loving Primark. It is the only way I am going to be able to afford to clothe myself in London.

Also - if anyone can tell me how to rotate these photos - please comment and let me know. It's as annoying to me as it is for everybody else, I assure you! Also Rom - please note that I am blogging on a Tuesday for your distraction.

xxx

A coward you are, Withnail. An expert on bulls you are not.

Trying to think what I had done when I last posted. I suppose now would be as good a time as any to summarise the rest of my trip to Barcelona. Wet. Except the one beautiful day that allowed me to go to a flea market, Park Guell and go for a trip on a boat.

Boat ride was lovely. Had a jazz saxophonist playing and glasses of Sangria for only 1 Euro. Not so bad.

Park Guell was unexpected - not much green grass for a park, but architecturally it was amazing. In my next life I want gaudi to design my house.

Flea market was annoying. Way too much crap to be enthusiastic about sorting through.

Anyway, my last day in Barcelona was a public holiday so nothing was open and it was raining so I ended up going to watch 2 American movies with the Canadian girls. Then that nightwe went out and I got very drunk along the port and struggled to get out of bed the next day to check out and get on the plane. I say again - those free shots are killer.

Back in the UK and started doing more job interviews. One of them asked me if I knew how to use a Macintosh and I have started to miss my laptop in a really nerdy way.

Last night I went to a party at my new flat (where I was meant to move in today but this has been postponed until tomorrow). It was a really lovely night and I met some really cool people. All of whom seem far more educated than I am.

Today I have cleaned Ben and Wayne's flat (they are both away) and packed all my stuff. Hopefully I will be out of here by early tomorrow morning.

Oh - and this photo is for Rom. It's from the market in Barcelona:

Almost forgot - yesterday I went to Windsor Castle and did the touristy thing in England, which I haven't done that much of so far. It was cold and grey and miserable and the castle was full of glorious art, armour and history. I had a really lovely day out there with Katie and Anthony and it included a traditional English pub lunch, including, for me, a glass of Pimms.

Gotta love those castles. Pronounced cassles for all of those born and raised in England.

xxx