annanotbob's Diaryland Diary

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Woo and indeed hoo, verily I say unto you

The gig last night was fabulous but I wasn't as stoned as I would have liked, so I'm getting ready for the Alabama 3 tonight:

I realise I like getting stoned in daylight - perhaps because I connect it with the end of the day's business. I have a spliff and let go of any intention to do anything in particular. What I'm after tonight is to get totally immersed in that music - I want volume, loud enough to push everything else out, loud enough to take control of my body which will start with a gentle sway, like it is already, listening to that clip ...

Aw man, they're just my favourite band - when the first series of The Sopranos aired, after the second episode and hearing that title track again, I just hunted them down (which was a big mission back then, not just a click away) and couldn't believe how much I liked their stuff. Now I can't believe that they're playing at the bottom of the hill - how cool is that? They're not on till ten though - this is festival time and all the venues are putting on as many shows as possible. We could go down and hang out till then, but it's a bit too frantic for me. Jane's not coming now, too knackered, so Sara will instead.

We haven't had a night out getting wasted together since the Kellygirls back in October. We don't do it often, but we do it good. That time I ended up snogging a woman who just came on to me so strongly and so sweetly that I couldn't resist. But she got straight into all this 'I can see you're a wounded soul, let me make you happy,' bollocks, causing me to say, 'Fuck, what am I doing? Byee...' Which we did on a loop, interspersed with pints of beer and getting stuck in a row between sarah and Michaela, for hours. Then I threw up when we got home, which was vile and the first time I've done that since about 1996.

No booze tonight, just lots of spliff. I just want to dance, on level ground, with a bunch of people of all ages, including big numbers of old bags and old gits, to very loud music.

Those women last night were fabulous and so inspirational. The folk scene is almost entirely separate from the 'music biz', I realise, with a far more individual interpretation of getting into costume. Of the six women, one had the usual hair, make up and frock number going on, but the rest looked like proper people. One of them had no make up, long scraggly hair, just like mine and a whopping great stain on her jacket, though otherwise she had clearly been making a bit of an effort. Ha! I suddenly knew what I'd looked like as a teacher.

I live in this weird contradictory place regarding my appearance. For all the bollocks I talk, I'd love to be considered attractive always and forever - wouldn't we all? I make little bits of effort here and there, mainly to do with my hair, but mainly I can't be arsed. I can give all sorts of sound feminist reasons why I should leave well alone, but failure to give a shit consistently is the main one.

Anyway, June Tabor - fucking hell - how have I lived without her all these years? She sang Lili Marlene, sent shivers all through me. They finished with this one, though I could only find the original:

It's all a bit intense right now, to be honest and I'm getting increasingly uptight about this benefits appointment on Friday. But not tonight I'm not, I'm off down the hill.

Laters xxx

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8:07 p.m. - 14/05/2008

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