I had a wonderful time last night. Thanks to facebook I had no trouble recognising L the moment I saw her approaching; it was surreal to be asked, ‘are you Jenny?’, but yes, I was. And from that moment on, the conversation was easy (although I am increasingly sure I’m losing my hearing) and laughs were plentiful and it was one of those evenings where I couldn’t stop at least half-smiling for most of the night. Lots of dancing, a pretty good set by Sandi Thom (you remember her – ‘I wish I was a punk-rocker, with flowers in my hair’, yes?) who was older than I thought and has a very good voice (next time I have money I am buying her album. Next time I have money being A Very Long While Away – I realised today that I’m doing worse on the budgeting than I had thought, and that next weekend’s jolly to see P and H and Many Other People a few hours away is right off the cards unless I want to get very irresponsible about my savings, which, well, I want to, but I shan’t *glum face*) and was accompanied by herself and a man each on guitars, her mouth organ, when she wasn’t singing, and a man sitting on a box upon which he was also drumming, with gaffer tape bound around his fingers. Singular. Very danceable – and it was good fun dancing with L and K becuase they seemed to have the same relaxed attitude to dancing as I do – namely, it’s about my body reacting to the music, and not so much about what I look like or who may be watching.
And then The Beautiful South came on. Or as their tour T-shirts would have it, something like: ‘The South (but no longer beautiful)’. And they were beautiful, and sang brilliantly, and by the end the largely mid-thirties crowd were exploding off the dancefloor like so many cats on a hot tin roof. Very danceable, very listenable. Lots of singing along (and I found I knew more of hte words than I thought I would) and all in all a great night. They finished pretty early and we found we had time for drinks in a bar near the station before L and K left, where I had some rather stale cake and we talked like old friends about friends both mutual and not. And I very much hope to see them both again soon (in the future in which I have money, of course).
Talking of money, I’m sorry to whine: it’s all my own fault for being so reckless mainly last year and over the summer up to a point, and now it’s got to the point where it’ll take me a long while to save my way out of this because I don’t have money coming in to save, and when I do, I always need it just to stay alive and pay my bills. I can’t say there wasn’t a mad bit of me that was tempted, when I saw an article in the paper today about Dr Brooke Magnanti outing herself as Belle de Jour, to become an escort. £300/hr? I should think so! But I’m a good Christian girl, and I can’t imagine the psychological ramifications it could have, being paid to have sex. So instead I shall just bitch, moan and complain cheerfully. After all, it’s what I do best! (and why can’t someone pay me to do that? perhaps I should get a column in a paper. Because it’s that easy).
Anyway. Chocolate needs to be eaten and Spooks needs to be watched – after all, I’m a student, and it’s Saturday night, where else would I be?