Glastonbury Weekend

FRIDAY


As I ran from the stock room at 11am, taking the stairs three at a time, my thoughts turned to the long weekend that stretched ahead of me. Some people would be enjoying U2 tonight, but I was more exciting at the prospect of spending the night in Gem's room.

Except it was now my room. Gem had hastily and unexpectedly moved out on Thursday morning, and Sarah and I were quick to capitalise on this and increase our living space by about 150%. We had planned just to gradually start moving our stuff in, but of course we couldn't resist and ended up going all-out. I spent Thursday night in the master bedroom, surrounded by my wonderful possessions (mandolin, iPod dock, cuddly toys, etc.)

So anyway, after finishing work at Next on Friday I headed to Sturff, and after Sturff we went to TGI Friday's. I had recently finished stomping Tom in our one-on-one Fantasy Football league (I have Carlos Tevez to thank for that, mostly - perhaps I should send him an email) and, as we had agreed, he now had to buy me a meal. I had a lovely, expensive steak, and everyone had a great time. Except perhaps for Cliffey, who discovered that some girl he had a past with and now could barely bring himself to speak to was on the payroll at TGI's and happened to have a shift that evening.

Oh well. Later on, we kicked back with a head-shaving session*, a midnight visit to Tesco, and a great big washing-up session. Operation Polaris produced great results, but such things do not last in a student house, even if there are only three people officially living there now.

SATURDAY


Colorama are a local-ish band who sound a bit like the Super Furry Animals and whose new album I picked up from Spillers on Valentine's Day, more or less on a whim after listening to bits of it on their CD listening post. Today, they were scheduled to play a free set at The Old Library as part of Spillers 'Saturday Sessions' thing.

I was mildly excited, and while Sarah had to be in Next that afternoon, I had convinced Cliffey to check it out with me...that is, until it transpired that Colorama had traded the bustle of Saturday afternoon in Central Cardiff for the rather more bustling bustle of Saturday afternoon at the Glastonbury festival. Typical.

Their slot at The Old Library was to be filled by a band called Houdini Dax, to whom I feel I owe a little publicity because I know two of them personally - David and Jack are both on the pop music course - and yet decided, not for the first time, that I couldn't be bothered to go and watch. So click on this link, watch the videos, buy their album, send them naked photos, and generally do whatever it takes to bail me out, karmically speaking.

Still, I would not let the whole day slide by without taking in a little live music. So while thousands of people were enjoying Coldplay and wondering who that psychy Welsh band from earlier were, Sarah and I were listening to Mr. John Grant, for Czars frontman and the brain behind Mojo's album of 2010.

And, in spite of a few technical problems**, his set was fantastic. Most of his songs were backed by nothing more than a baby grand piano and a synthesiser, and The Gate made a pretty cool venue for it all, being more of a theatre than a club or concert hall.

The support act, Daughter, were good too. I got their EP and had it signed, although sadly the cardboard sleeve did get slightly bent in Sarah's rucksack. Oh well.

SUNDAY


Tom stayed over on Saturday night, and in the morning I was told that while I was falling asleep halfway through Megamind***, he and Cliffey had popped to the Kismet for a late-night curry. And guess who was there, chomping on poppadoms after another hard shift at TGI's?

Anywho, once we had all woken up and gotten dressed, the four of us (Sarah, Tom, Cliffey and myself) went into town to find costumes for our upcoming Pokémon party. It was a scorchingly hot day, and after stickly circumnavigating the city centre for an hour or so, we retired to Varsity for some food and a few cold drinks.

Which was lovely apart from the bit where I ordered some sort of complicated mocktail and the lady on the counter had to go and see if they had the necessary ingredients. Whilst awaiting her return, I thought it would be a great idea to perch myself on the bar - literally sit on the bar - and in doing so I knocked the Chip & PIN machine onto the floor, with surprising velocity. Imagine the launcher in a pinball machine, and replace the ball with maybe £25 per month of hi-tech gadgetry, and the launcher bit with my fat fuckin' ass.

I was roundly ridiculed, but hey, the virgin colada was nice.

And so, as several thousand people were realising that Kelly and Michelle would not, in fact, be making an appearance, Sarah and I rounded off the weekend by watching Catch Me If You Can, which we both agreed was awesome.

And now it's Monday, and Sarah's in work, and I'm sweating a lot and typing this blog and tomorrow morning I have work too.

Oh well. At least we know who our new housemate will be. More on that tomorrow.

Joel.

* Not my head. Meic's and Cliffey's.

** At the start of one song, he started singing into a second, thus far unused, microphone, which added a very distant-sounding effect to his voice. Which I thought was cool until he stopped and made an annoyed face, at which point I realised that the mic wasn't turned on.

*** Sarah had to fill me in the following morning. I won't spoil for you, but it all sounds very exciting. And for once I managed to guess an important plot point.