Covenant gig tonight
Went to a Covenent gig tonight with Aggelos and Eleni. Also saw Mesh and some other band called RBN. Everything around me tonight seemed to echo of age and growing older. The 16-year-old in the second row, still finding her elbows and knees and how to move comfortably in clothes that had been picked, bought and combined especially for this event. The RBN singer, in his 40s jumping around like a maniac when all he wants is a cup of tea and the Observer on Saturday. The shaved heads to hide the baldness all around, with leather jackets, an attempt to reconnect with youth. Things that should have been done when they were younger that now just makes them look older still. People uncomfortable in their still changing skin. Not to set myself apart.
I accept that I will be joining their ranks soon. My hair has fallen out and now my body is giving way. Four hours of dancing are the equivalent of a week without sleep chopping timber. Smoking 10 cigarettes feels like I've been sucking on an exhaust pipe.
I welcome the change. It requires you to focus on other things. Strange, how when I tell people about priorities and growing older in their own lives it reflects my own thoughts and feelings. In less than two years I will no longer be in my twenties. Not that the fun stops there, but it gives you food for thought.
The gig was good, Covenant rocked the Electric Ballroom, hands were in the air, feet stamping and voices howled between songs. We bounced to the left and bounced to the right and punched the air. Tattoos, spikes and shaved and dyed hair surrounded me once more. This used to be my bread and butter so why should it not continue to be? It's like I hit the pause button for 5 years. No money no funny, no, honey. But now the cash flow issue is almost resolved. My trial at work is almost over, just 2 weeks left and then I leap onto the next pay scale.
I've been making a good impression. The boss has seen me come in early all this week, I've covered shifts and been thanked for it, jumped on the camera for ill producers and received congratulations from the big boss for it, and I was even given a shift producing the webshow. I'll ask for more, prove myself, become necessary and then, hopefully, I'll go from 8 to 10 or 11 pounds an hour. I'll start to enjoy life. And then share that joy.
Another week of work starts tomorrow. I'm on till Thursday and then maybe some extra shifts will come my way. Except for Sunday. We're doing the Greek Easter thing at Lee's. He's ordered an entire spitroast lamb. We're gonna chargrill that motherfucker.
So much vagina at work yesterday. I don't think anyone except doctors are supposed to see genitalia so close up under such intense light for so long. I can draw a very detailed picture of it now. The words, the swearing, still ring(s) in my ears. And at the end we hug and thank each other like we were on stage.
Work still makes me happy this week. It's fun. I see inside so many peoples' heads. The boys and girls, the boys that lie the girls that have nothing to lie about. Fucking.
I accept that I will be joining their ranks soon. My hair has fallen out and now my body is giving way. Four hours of dancing are the equivalent of a week without sleep chopping timber. Smoking 10 cigarettes feels like I've been sucking on an exhaust pipe.
I welcome the change. It requires you to focus on other things. Strange, how when I tell people about priorities and growing older in their own lives it reflects my own thoughts and feelings. In less than two years I will no longer be in my twenties. Not that the fun stops there, but it gives you food for thought.
The gig was good, Covenant rocked the Electric Ballroom, hands were in the air, feet stamping and voices howled between songs. We bounced to the left and bounced to the right and punched the air. Tattoos, spikes and shaved and dyed hair surrounded me once more. This used to be my bread and butter so why should it not continue to be? It's like I hit the pause button for 5 years. No money no funny, no, honey. But now the cash flow issue is almost resolved. My trial at work is almost over, just 2 weeks left and then I leap onto the next pay scale.
I've been making a good impression. The boss has seen me come in early all this week, I've covered shifts and been thanked for it, jumped on the camera for ill producers and received congratulations from the big boss for it, and I was even given a shift producing the webshow. I'll ask for more, prove myself, become necessary and then, hopefully, I'll go from 8 to 10 or 11 pounds an hour. I'll start to enjoy life. And then share that joy.
Another week of work starts tomorrow. I'm on till Thursday and then maybe some extra shifts will come my way. Except for Sunday. We're doing the Greek Easter thing at Lee's. He's ordered an entire spitroast lamb. We're gonna chargrill that motherfucker.
So much vagina at work yesterday. I don't think anyone except doctors are supposed to see genitalia so close up under such intense light for so long. I can draw a very detailed picture of it now. The words, the swearing, still ring(s) in my ears. And at the end we hug and thank each other like we were on stage.
Work still makes me happy this week. It's fun. I see inside so many peoples' heads. The boys and girls, the boys that lie the girls that have nothing to lie about. Fucking.