Uno: I have not written since 31st May.
Zwei: This is going to be long. Like, Trojan War long. I seemed to stop blogging when I started doing things. In hindsight, that sentence seems ridiculous. That's the rubbish you're in for today - you have been warned.
Trois: Most of this will be nonsensical to most of you.
Pedwar: I have forgotten most of what I was supposed to write about...
Last weekend I went to The Hop Farm Festival and had a rather dandy time. Et je vais vous dire pourquoi.
It started with queuing. Lots of queuing, but that's no fun to write about, so I'll skip to the fun and games. Actually, it didn't start with fun and games, it started with the Bruce Springsteen look-a-like and the nondescript one (more on these names later) having deep conversations about war and the ethics of killing. I am of the view that killing other people is wrong, and that there is better defence than killing those attacking you. I know it's not that straight forward, but you've got to have basic principles, and those are mine. This meant I quickly ran out of things to say, and so sat back and drank Pimms.
Next up was Feminism. As you may have already read, I have some pretty strong views on this subject, but due to the fact that both boys had already read mine on here, I had drunk my share of the Pimms and it was quite hot, the best I came out with was 'I think all men and woman are equal, and anyone else who does is a feminist'. I told them about seeing Germaine Greer on the plane from Rhodes, and was so tempted to shout 'Germaine Greer! Get your tits out!' - a phrase my sister and I like to swap from time to time, though I can't remember why.
I have since started reading 'Votes for Women' and am searching for my copy of 'The Female Eunuch'.
There is nothing like the smell of home-marinated salmon sizzling on a BBQ to get you friends. It was salmon that first made us the most popular bunch of Hoppers in the camp. Soon we had Glaswegians, Brighton ex-sex-shop workers and two very charming, if slightly intoxicated, ladies in our little dwelling. I liked these two girls - they were there only briefly, but in that time they pointed directly at me and said 'She has a flawless face, hasn't she? And you [To the Welshman] look like Bruce Springsteen'.
Nothing was said to the Englishman. He is therefore, known as 'The nondescript one'. Shame!
The Glaswegians were a riot! In both senses. Their Turkish absinthe was apparently, to die for. Or die from. Everyone had really raspy voices after so it was hard to hear what they were saying. (I would like to add I was perfectly content with Pimms and wine). The security guards were also Scottish, so juxtaposed with Sigur Ros playing serenely in the background, it was pretty surreal. Like a Jonsi/Glas Vegas mash up. Even that was better than the Drum and Bass I had had to put up with earlier. Apparently this attitude will not do at Swansea, but if they expect me to enjoy D&B they can stick it in their pipe and smoke it!
Saturday was far more fun, apart from only having two hours sleep and lying there listening to Scottish men talk about football into the wee small hours of the morning and accumulating a hangover that could barely justify itself.
Ok, so maybe I was a bit grumpy, but I couldn't help it. I do feel bad about it now, but to be honest at the time I couldn't care less if everyone around me had wanted to grab me firmly by the shoulders and shake until all vital signs faded. But then, that's one of the traits of being moody I suppose.
Those of you that have spent more than an hour with me over the last six months would have noticed I rather enjoy the music of Mumford and Sons, Laura Marling and Johnny Flynn. They were all playing Hop Farm - I still get super-excited whenever they come onto my playlist and will tell anyone around (mostly the dog) that I have seen them live and they were amazing. They couldn't have been anything less than immense in my eyes. This may be because I love them all. True, incontestable love. Ok, maybe not but it runs deep.
Words cannot describe how good they were, partly because I can't remember details, but I remember being giddy with happiness. Or dehydration. Perhaps both.
We had time between acts so decided to sit in the shade for a while. Yep, we paid over £180 to spend an hour and a half sitting against a metal sheet. I sat, the nondescript one and Bruce lay with their feet against it, giving me a lovely dusty/festival foot smell to match the hairy/scrawny legs in my peripheral vision. It was lush!
I feel I should mention The Hypnotic Brass Ensemble, because Bruce and the non-D One loved them, and they would accuse me again of not liking them out of stubbornness. I did not like them, and I am stubborn but surprisingly, these things are not related.
The first weekend of June was also amazing - my sister, her boyfriend and I went to the Isle of Wight. Luckily they didn't tell me to blog about it, so I'll save you that...
We did, however, see a band fronted by Devendra Banhart. He was great live - really connected with the music and the crowd. He even managed to make me dance to a Justin Bieber song, which technically goes against my morals.
Banhart was also playing Hop Farm, and though his set wasn't as exciting as IOW, I was in the front row for his performance and touched him. That looks very perverted.
He was singing 'Lover' (a very catchy tune by the way), stood on a speaker and leaned back, giving the front three rows the perfect excuse to grab him, which we did with pleasure.
It's quite late now, and I have just woken from a 5minute daydream about a goat tattoo and Notting Hill, so will wrap it up.
I have been asked to take some photos for a wedding - this simultaneously makes me very happy and very nervous, lots of butterflies in my tummy.
Also the legendary Mad Cows Hockey Festival is coming up in August, and I have therefore, started to go running again.
Finally, I am getting a good guitar for my birthday this year. Hoping this will somehow make my playing a bit better, but I guess it'll really be the hours of practise. Such fun. I have tried song writing, but everything sounds perverse when in song form so I have a notebook of very good sentences, should you ever need any.
TTFN
F xx
IOW- blog about it!
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NO! Please don't make me =[
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