another step on the long staircase
I went to a Death Cab for Cutie concert tonight, and it was bloody amazing. Their opening band (frightened rabbit) was quite good, and then they came out and blew my brains out-- not with volume, but with awesome. All those long instrumental breaks which can be mildly irritating in the recorded versions work perfectly onstage, and each song has a unique theme to it which really keeps the song together. The lyrics (which tend to be the high point of their record tracks) are just another integrated part of the whole when they're live. And their drummer is just as good live as I thought.
Nottingham really has a very serious nightlife. I was alone and thus had no desire to go clubbing-- but if I'd wanted to, there were at least five within easy walking distance and more a short bus hop away. Speaking of buses, it's very simple to get anywhere here, so long as you know which bus to take. Almost makes up for being unable to get around any other way. :-P
I had a moment while I was in the venue waiting for the gig to start. I'd bought a drink and was standing up on the balcony. I glanced at my drink and surveyed the crowd, and-- just for a moment-- I thought 'so this is what being an adult feels like'. My British (hell, my older American) friends are laughing as they read this, but there's something very potent about these privileges-- these rites of passage society has set up for us. The ability to go out and do something I enjoy without any planning or help or having to answer to anyone... it's a little bit glorious. In that moment, I understood why some people refuse to ever be tied down.
I know I'm still effectively dependent on my parents, still in the bubble world that is university life. Even so, it feels pretty good. Maturity means a lot of things to me-- strength, confidence in the self, the ability to let life's little annoyances (and some of its great blows) pass over you while still being okay at your core. Sometimes maturity is hearing the little voice that tells you 'this is a bad idea' and listening to it. Other times maturity might just be a drink, a place to stand and a little smile on your face because you know that, tonight, you can take care of yourself.
Hey, there, real world. I'll take my place soon.
Just a little longer.
Nottingham really has a very serious nightlife. I was alone and thus had no desire to go clubbing-- but if I'd wanted to, there were at least five within easy walking distance and more a short bus hop away. Speaking of buses, it's very simple to get anywhere here, so long as you know which bus to take. Almost makes up for being unable to get around any other way. :-P
I had a moment while I was in the venue waiting for the gig to start. I'd bought a drink and was standing up on the balcony. I glanced at my drink and surveyed the crowd, and-- just for a moment-- I thought 'so this is what being an adult feels like'. My British (hell, my older American) friends are laughing as they read this, but there's something very potent about these privileges-- these rites of passage society has set up for us. The ability to go out and do something I enjoy without any planning or help or having to answer to anyone... it's a little bit glorious. In that moment, I understood why some people refuse to ever be tied down.
I know I'm still effectively dependent on my parents, still in the bubble world that is university life. Even so, it feels pretty good. Maturity means a lot of things to me-- strength, confidence in the self, the ability to let life's little annoyances (and some of its great blows) pass over you while still being okay at your core. Sometimes maturity is hearing the little voice that tells you 'this is a bad idea' and listening to it. Other times maturity might just be a drink, a place to stand and a little smile on your face because you know that, tonight, you can take care of yourself.
Hey, there, real world. I'll take my place soon.
Just a little longer.