“What?” Gareth staggered in from an evening bike ride to find me flapping around the kitchen with oven gloves on.

“The passionfruit slice! I left it in the oven too long and it’s all burnt at the edges! And I don’t have enough ingredients to make another!”

“What are you going to do?” he grinned, “No cake for Cake Club! They’ll kick you out before you even get in!”

I’ve been blogstalking the Edinburgh Cake Ladies for over a year. It was my idea of heaven – a bunch of folk each bake a cake, then gather together in a coffee shop to share and socialise. After drooling over their photos for yonks I finally worked up the nerve to put my name in the hat for a spot at the next gathering.

The theme was “Tower of Terrific Traybakes”. Traybakes are what we call slices in Oz, basically stuff that you bake in a rectangular tin and cut into bars/slices. We were to bring 20 pieces. I went with this simple Passionfruit Slice that was a previous success. It would have been a repeat success, had I not been pissfarting around on Twitter and forgot to take it out of the oven.

I did a frantic drive to the supermarket, but there was no passionfruit. So I chucked together a rhubarb crumble slice since I’d just stewed a megaload of rhubarb. Unfortunately the next day when I cut it up, it was soggy, bland and bordering on raw inside. Even Gareth said it was crap, and he has low cake standards.

I had to get the bus to Edinburgh so there was no time for a 3rd attempt. I considered tweeting Alison (founding Cake Lady) that there’d been a work emergency or I’d got my arm caught in the electric mixer. But with careful excavation we salvaged 12 teeny tiny petit four-ish squares from the middle of the passionfruit slice that weren’t scorched and/or split.

Hmm. Not so much a Tower of Traybakes but a modest bungalow. For Lego people.

It seems silly now, days later, but please tell me I’m not alone in getting crazy nervous before meeting internet strangers? The thought of showing up there with such a pitiful plate was mortifying. It was like when you’re a kid at a birthday party and everyone else gives the birthday girl Barbies and My Little Ponies and all you have to offer is a shithouse colouring book from Woolworths. And then there was the overarching fear that people would think I’d just scoffed half the traybake myself and made up an elaborate cover story!

But in the end my freaking out was for nowt. I arrived at Bon Papillon and the awesome Alison kindly countered my panicky rant with reassuring tales of previous Cake Cock-ups. Bon Papillion was a total charmer of a cafe, with nice coffee and lots of art for sale. Before long the room was buzzing and the mighty traybake towers piled up.

Get our your magnifying glass to spot my contribution! Photo: edinburghcakeladies.wordpress.com

Everyone I chatted to was so bloody lovely. I mean, people who like to bake cakes and like to talk to other people about baking cakes – you really can’t go wrong, can you?

It was an awesome sugar-rushy blur and three days later I’m no doubt confusing names, cakes and Twitter handles, but among the lovely Cake Ladies I chatted to was Sophia of Cake With A View (photos of cake with a view, obv), Victoria who made delicious Nanaimo bars, Wendy the Inside Out Chef (who recently hosted a Pudding Club!), Michelle who runs pop-up arvo tea parties!!! and fellow Dunfermlineite Claire, who is looking to start a Fife baking group (woohoo!).

All the traybakes I sampled were scrumptious but I went back for seconds of Lucy’s chocolate toffee bars – chewy, a touch of salt and packed with pecans. Hubba hubba!

Apparently COLIN FIRTH dropped in during the evening to check out the art but most of us were too busy eating and jibber-jabbering to notice his Oscar winning presence. To be honest if I was forced to choose between cake or Mr Darcy I’d probably take the cake anyway, unless there was a third cake AND Darcy option.

Thank you Cake Ladies for a great evening.

Share this post

I went to Harvey Nics to try some Diptyque Philosykos for the Perfume Project. The lovely Sali Hughes proclaimed her love for it in her perfume column last year (“figgy, woody and unique”), as did some of you excellent, perfume-savvy folks.

Now, I am no longer 21 years old and full of insecurities and inferiority complexes. So I’d generally say I stroll happily and assertively around fancy department stores these days, rather than skulk about unworthily. Generally.

I found the Diptyque area and scanned the shelves Terminator-stylee, while arranging my face into a casual, “I do this all the time and could quite easily buy one of each” expression.

The friendly sales assistant came over and said, “Have you tried the room fragrances? They’re really lovely.”

“Room fragrances!” I exclaimed. “Well! I did not realise they did room fragrances too.”

Oh fuck. She’s on to me. I must look too scruffy, like I can’t afford to buy the actual perfume! So she’s gently redirecting me to the cheaper stuff that you just spray around the house!

“I’m just looking at the perfumes today,” I said.

And then, for no good reason I added: “I always wear Philosykos but I’m wondering if it’s time for a change? Go a bit crazy and try something new?”

Why the bloody hell did you say that? You only came here to test Philosykos, a perfume you’ve never sniffed before, and now you can’t test Philosykos because you just declared you wear Philosykos all the time. Dickhead!

“Hmmm that’s a tough one,” she said, “Philosykos is quite unique, there’s really nothing quite like it is there?”

“It is one of a kind.”

“And it smells different on everyone else.”

“Oh totally,” I nodded, “Some of my friends wear it too, and it smells completely different on each of them!”

My imaginary, fig-scented friends.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, but let me know if you need any more help,” she smiled and moved along.

I’m not in Edinburgh that often so it was a rare chance to try something outside the usual Boots/Debenhams suspects. I waited a minute and spritzed on the Philosykos. Then I scurried off, leaving a tell-tale fig fug.

It was a gorgeous perfume, although a bit too edible for me (I just needed a filo pastry case and a blob of marscapone on top).

I would like to know if any other perfectly intelligent and confident people ever turn into a gibbering mess when faced with a beauty store counter? Anyone?!

Share this post

I’ve never been a perfume person but I suddenly became possessed by the idea of being a perfume person. As learned from Impulse Body Spray ads in the 80s (I think?), I would need to apply scent while naked and silhouetted in front of a sunny window, with a light breeze stirring the drapes. Then I’d get dressed, saunter down the street and blokes would drop their power tools or briefcases, sniff the air, then trail behind me in a besotted daze.

But instead I am wandering into shops and nicking a spritz of this or that, then taking uninformed notes. The plan is, come Christmastime I’ll review my findings, declare a winner and treat myself to a big bottle.

I’m up to Perfume #13 and really enjoying it. It’s a great excuse to wander around the shops without spending any money. I’m very careful to hit up as many different places as possible so I don’t look cheap and/or creepy.

So far my favourite is the very first one I tried: Chanel’s Coco (as sampled from Debenhams, Dunfermline). It smelled earthy and dramatic and foxy as hell, all at the same time, and made me feel rather earthy, dramatic and foxy as hell. Even Gareth “I only know three adjectives” Reid said I smelled, “really nice”.

The worst was Paris by YSL (Boots, Edinburgh). Notes: Smells like an old lady I once knew. Who? Ew!

(I need to learn better words to describe smells. So far I can’t get beyond “old lady”, “powdery”, “flowery”, “sweet”, “meh” and “foxy”.)

Last year my mission was to read 52 book and 52 weeks and I ended up reading a lot of crap just to hit my target. I have a feeling this project will eventually go the same way – come November I’ll be down to the dregs of Celine Dion or Brittany Spears’ latest creations.

If anyone is out there, do you have any favourites to share? Anything really honking that I should avoid? Any favourite perfume shops? Thanks for any ideas!

Image source: Google LIFE

Share this post

Season Two Episode One was as thrilling and intriguing as we’d all hoped. Then finally Sofie was introduced and the crowd went mental. I wondered if it would she was be bemused or slightly creeped out that hundreds of British people had turned up to watch a screening of a television programme that had aired in Denmark years earlier?

She was so very, very classy. How do European women do that? You know, look elegantly put-together yet slightly dishevelled like you’ve just had a good tumble? She was wearing slim-legged trousers and one of those big floaty jumpers that would make me look like a lumpen potato but on her was the height of casual sophistication.  She answered the audience questions with wit, patience and perfect English. I was consumed by teenage yearning… how cool would it be to be like that? Understated style, wry and witty, sexy and aloof all the same time. I couldn’t get a toe into her jeans, let alone any of the other stuff. Wah wah wah.

Afterwards, we emerged from the theatre and back into reality. Except it was not quite reality, as we were still in Edinburgh.

Edinburgh is a lot different from Dunfermline. I moved to Dunfermline after I got married. Edinburgh and Dunfermline are separated by a bit of water and linked by the Forth Rail Bridge, the Greatest Feat of Victorian Engineering™ (and a nondescript road bridge), but the two towns are worlds apart.  Edinburgh has galleries and festivals and cinemas that show films other than ones that require 3D glasses. There are places to eat foods that are not doused in cheese and/or batter.

Dunfermline is located in the region of Fife, which is known as the KINGDOM of Fife because in the ye olde days Dunfermline was the capital city of Scotland. But that’s going back a long way now. The thrones have long been replaced by kebab shoppes.

Fife has been my home for seven years now and I love it. I dig the coast, our village, my friends, my tiny commute, the veggie patch and the secluded woods to wander in. It’s a great life. But every now and then I need a fix of fancy dinner or entertainment so I hop back over the water.

Being in Edinburgh feels like a different world. There’s a Castle, for crying out loud. On this particular summer’s evening the castle was bathed in that weird metalicky post-rain sunlight. We had a bus to catch back to Fife, but I didn’t want to break the Edinburgh spell. We’d been to see The Amazing Sofie, we’d had a drink and I wasn’t wearing tracky dacks.

“Let’s come here more often,” I rambled to Gareth, “And see more movies without 3D glasses? Catch some bands? Or a play. We never go to plays. I mean, look at that castle! Why don’t we just move here? There must be a shoebox for sale…”

I swooned at the Edinburgh sunset as we waited at the bus stop.

And waited and waited.

Then waited some bloody more.

Bus after bus after bus flew by, full to the brim with Fife-bound festival-goers. The drivers would shrug their shoulders helplessly as if to say, Sorry love. Nae room.

And with that, the Edinburgh love affair was over.

With every bus that passed I could feel the futile rage boil in my veins. I wanted to be home. Now! Home in good old Fife with a cup of tea. Why did we leave Fife? Whose ridiculous idea was this? I bet it was Gareth’s idea.

Soon it was dark and I didn’t have a warm jacket, coz I thought we’d have been home ages by then. Stupid Edinburgh.

After approximately seven years and many murderous thoughts, a bus finally stopped.

“We are getting on this bloody bus if it’s the last thing we ever do,” I said to Gareth. “So get your elbows oot!”

“I’ve not many seats left!” warned the driver.

Normally in this country there is a definite queue etiquette but this time everyone just surged violently, like seagulls on a hot chip. Luckily we’d been waiting so long we were right at the front, so we managed to get on. I had to stop myself from screaming “IN YOUR FACE!” to those left on the pavement. A family with about six children made it too, but a quartet of revellers who’d been waiting on the steps of a pub - not actually in the queue let me point out – missed out.

Pub Man was very unhappy.

“I want your name and the name of your supervisor!” he bellowed at the driver, “This is an outrage!”

“I’m sorry sir,” said the driver, “The bus is full and I can’t let anyone else on.”

“But how are we meant to get home? Give me the name of your supervisor!”

“The bus is full!”

“Give me the name of your supervisor!”

The bus driver politely explained the situation again, hit the button to close the doors and started to pull away. But Pub Man was having none of it. He leaped onto the bus and somehow managed to wedge himself in the gap of the semi-closed door as we moved down the street.

“I’m not getting off until you give me the name of your supervisor! How the hell are we supposed to get home!?”

The passengers rumbled with disapproving tut-tuts and “for fook’s sake”s and “have ya no’ heard of the train pal”s. But Gareth and I looked at each other with an uneasy, “that could have been us” expression.

I mean, how close are we all to coming undone? We’re oh so civilised watching Danish thrillers in the cinema and standing politely in queues, but push our buttons a wee bit and we begin to fizz. And there’s nothing quite like that special brand of impotent rage that comes with public transport delays, when it’s really late and you just want to fucking get HOME to your bed. Another half hour and maybe we would have cracked up too?

The driver stopped at the end of the street, opened the door again and Pub Man reluctantly stepped down. He was still ranting as we drove away. I wonder if those poor buggers made it to the train station in time for the last one over the Bridge.

Share this post

1. What did you do this year that you’d never done before?

• 2009 – Competed in a kickboxing tournament (v. unsuccessfully), went on the telly, became a UK citizen, grew tomatoes and salad leaves, bought a house.
• 2010 – Visited Italy and Los Angeles, made a souffle, grew parsnips, got counselling. A low key kind of year to be honest.
• 2011 – Started a business, made jam, grew beetroot, made rhubarb wine, went to Belgium, spoke at a blogging conference, rode a bike in Paris, made crumpets, rode in a “bike race”!

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next this year?

• 2009 – I resolved to 1) exercise 20 mins a day 2) write down what I eat 3) internet curfew of 10.30pm. About 37% success. My resolution for 2010 is to do more stuff that I enjoy. That is all.
• 2010 – Success! Aim low, hit target. Definitely made time to do more stuff that I enjoy. Also ate more stuff that I enjoyed. Just too bloody much!
• 2011 – Kept them like a mofo for the first six months then kinda lost my way for awhile. Back on track now. They’re more Good Habits for Life rather than resolutions.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

• 2009 – My foxy work colleague, Lorraine.
• 2010 – No but 95% of my lady friends got pregnant!
• 2011 – Lorraine again. And other work colleagues. And lots of school pals. The baby avalanche continues.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

• 2009 – My great uncle Gordon passed away. He was a lovely man.
• 2010 – No. Unless you count Peter Pan the sponsor dog!
• 2011 – No. And no Sponsor Dogs died either, for a change!

5. What countries did you visit?

• 2009 – Australia and USA
• 2010 – Italy, France and USA
• 2011 – Belgium, Italy, France and USA

6. What would you like to have next year that you lacked in this one?

• 2009 – A clearer mind!
• 2010 – Focus, drive and, self-belief and the ability to remain calm under pressure.
• 2011 – Consistency!

7. What dates from this year will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

• 2009 – Thursday 22 January. Last day in New York. Killer cookie from Levain Bakery.
• 2010 – That San Francisco Saturday with Jillian & Greg. Sushi, booze, cards, brief sail on the bay.
• 2011 – The first day of the Fitbloggin conference – meeting blog pals in a jetlagged euphoria.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

• 2009 – Growing tomatoes!
• 2010 – Pretty lame old year in the field of achievement. Hosting the cupcake party, I’ll say, for sheer joy of it.
• 2011 – Starting Up and Running. It blows my mind every time I log on to our forum and see all these amazing women running around and kicking arse in a little corner of the internet that we created. Also reading 52 books in 52 weeks after years of trying to hit that dumbarse target.

9. What was your biggest failure?

• 2009 – Ignoring my health.
• 2010 – Being reactive rather than proactive.
• 2011 – Working too much on the weekend.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

• 2009 – The big D.
  
• 2010 – Continued big D and 6 seperate colds. Did not eat enough veggies this year it seems.
• 2011 – Just my stupid knee still being a bastard. Almost made it through cold-free until a rotten one right before Christmas.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

• 2009 – iStuff 808 Bass Sound Isolating Earphones – only £16.99 to totally drown out snotty noses and rubbish banter on public transport! I heartily endorse!
  
• 2010 – Bargain spinning bike so we can exercise indoors when the weather is shithouse.
• 2011 – A decent hairdryer

12. Where did most of your money go?

• 2009 – Airfares to Australia and deposit for Crooked House.
  
• 2010 – Shrink fees.
• 2011 – Four new windows and a back door. Honestly the most fucking boring purchase in my life. But nice to have windows that don’t leak when it rains.

13. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

• 2009 – The sausage and onion pie from SimpleSimon Pies.
  
• 2010 – Wallander! I got just a wee bit obsessive about this Swedish detective and his various incarnations on the telly.
• 2011 – The Killing! And this here Kvikk Lunsj chocolate bar that Gareth brought back from Norway. Wonder if I’ll get excited about anything in 2012 that isn’t either edible or Scandinavian!?

14. What song will always remind you of this year?

• 2009 – Hocus Pocus. Gareth dragged me along to a Focus gig – Dutch prog yodelling ahoy.
  
• 2010 – All the songs on Dusty Live From Memphis.
• 2011 – Sadness Is A Blessing by Lykki Li. Also my box of CDs finally arrived from Oz and I became addicted to Different Class all over again.

15. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder?

• 2009 – I was sadder, but i’m doing something about it, so much happier now!
• 2010 – Happier!
• 2011 – I don’t really like this happy/sad simplification coz life is always light and shade. But I’m more content and better at dealing with the shitty bits.

b) thinner or fatter?

• 2009 – Fatter, but again doing something about it.
  
• 2010 – Fatter, again. Obviously did not do enough about it!
• 2011 – Marginally thinner. Which means still chunkier than I want to be, but really pleased with how it’s going.

c) richer or poorer?

• 2009 – Poorer financially due to mortgage shackles. But feeling very lucky and appreciative to have a good life and know so many groovy people.
  
• 2010 – About the same!
• 2011 – About the same, but those bloody windows didn’t help.

16. What do you wish you’d done more of?

• 2009 – Look after my mental health. Fun outings with Dr G. Travel. I’ve not been anywhere Euro since 2007! (shitey work trip doesn’t count
  
• 2010 – Take photos.
• 2011 – Gardening. It’s a jungle out there.

17. What do you wish you’d done less of?

• 2009 – Worrying about what other people think.
  
• 2010 – Panicking. Overeating. Excuse making.
• 2011 – Staying up too late on a school night.

18. How did you spend Christmas?

• 2009 – Rhi and the in-laws are coming to Crooked House! There will be feasting and port.
  
• 2010 – Same! Christmas was even better this year thanks to better planning and advance preparation. The timings of the food were perfect on the big day, too. I dunno why that gives me such pleasure. Also: provided entertainment this year in the form of Billionaire card game. So much fun.
• 2011 – Same! But with introduction of Jamie Oliver’s Jerk ham. Bloody beautiful! We also started a new Christmas Even tradition: “Early Edible Present”. Despite my obsessive planning I’d not bought anything in the Snacks To Eat While Watching Cheesy Christmas Movies category. So we raided the Christmas stockings for one tasty ration each.

19. Did you fall in love this year?

• 2009 – Yes, with my cherry tomatoes! And more in love with Dr G. We have both had a real stinker of a 2009 in many respects but we kept each other trucking along.
  
• 2010 – Still diggin’ the G Man.
• 2011 – With Barney, my Kindle! Gareth also got a Kindle this year and called it Kevin “Bloody” Kindle which never fails to crack me up when I see it on the screen.

20. What was your favorite TV program?

• 2009 – The Thick of It
• 2010 – Mad Men
• 2011 – The Killing! The Danish one, tak you very much.

21. What was the best book you read?

• 2009 – Forest for the Trees by Betsy Lerner
  
• 2010 – A Tree Grows In Brooklyn by Betty Smith
• 2011 – Didn’t really have a particular favourite this year.

22. What was your favorite film of this year?

• 2009 – Didn’t see too many good films, but some oldies I saw for the first time and loved were Blade Runner and The Diving Bell and the Butterfly.
  
• 2010 – Only saw Inception (nae bad) and Sex and the City 2 (urgh) at the cinema. Favourite LoveFilm rental was Etre et Avoir and also finally saw Gladiator which was ace.
• 2011 – I saw five movies at the cinema this year: Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (nae bad), The Lavender Hill Mob (classic), Bridesmaids (great), Whisky Galore (ace) and It’s A Wonderful Life (blubbed like a baby). ET was on the telly on Christmas Eve and I blubbed at that too!

23. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

• 2009 – I went to the BBC Good Food show in Glasgow then I scrubbed the walls of our putrid house. I turned 32.
  
• 2010 – I went to work! But the weekend before I had a spa day, dinner with the inlaws at a great pub, and dinner at Chop Chop with Rhi and Dr G. Was 33.
• 2011 – Work again. Gareth took me out for a fancy dinner. It was lovely but we absconded to a cheaper place for pudding!

24. What kept you sane?

• 2009 – Kickboxing and the addictive genius of SJ and the Egg’s brilliant FYCL podcast.
  
• 2010 – Books.
• 2011 – Books again, but on the Kindle. I love having that instant escape in my handbag at all times.

25. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

• 2009 – Peter Capaldi. Loved him shouty sweary on The Thick Of It and loved him rambling on as he drew little sketches on that documentary about Scottish art.
  
• 2010 – Was a pretty quiet year on the celebrity crush front. Quite fancied Don Draper for awhile there but it’s on the wane.
• 2011 – I quite fancied Strange in The Killing II. For awhile! And Jason Isaacs as Jackson Brodie… YES PLEASE!

Source: reelscotland.com

26. Who did you miss?

• 2009 – Everyone in Australia, especially Peita, Jane and Jen Dog.
  
• 2010 – Same!
• 2011 – Same again.

27. Who was the best new person you met?

• 2009 – Alison, a sage and hilarious arsekicker
  
• 2010 – A whole tribe of Girl Geeks.
• 2011 – Julia, in person at last, and a few hundred Up & Runners.

Giddyup!

Share this post

November 30, 2011: I finished Not The Greatest Story Ever Told II!

There’s been a major word drought since I wrote that book. I’ve oscillated between “what kind of dickhead writes about themselves like that?” over-exposed deer-in-headlights-let’s-hide-from-the-world-forever terror, and the “you’re no writer, you just got lucky coz there weren’t many Fat Girl Loses Lard memoirs at the time and now you got NOTHING!” feelings of utter fraudulence.

As a result everything I’ve written over the past four years has been torn up in a huff. That is, when I managed to write anything at all. I’ve pretty much been too shitscared to even try.

In late October there were the usual NaNoWriMo mutterings on Twitter and I realised it was ten years since I last completed the 50,000 words in 30 days madness. I thought I’d give it another go. I confessed my plans to my pal Naomi, who I got to know this year through Up & Running. She is a proper author of multiple novels! She was awesomely encouraging and said, “Just make sure you don’t make this another stick to beat yourself up with”.

She used a great running analogy: I’d been doing the writing equivalent of sitting on the couch – feck all activity for years. Going straight into a novel would be like going straight from the couch to marathon training. I understood perfectly – knowing me, I’d push too hard too soon and bust my writerly joints, declare it all too much, then wind up back on the couch doing nowt!

She had a cool idea that was more like training for a 5K – she kindly sent me a copy of A Writer’s Book Of Days, a book of daily writing prompts. So instead of a terrible novel, I wrote terrible short stories in November.

I guess that means it doesn’t really count as a NaNoWriMo effort, but to me it felt like a bloody huge triumph. The writing was so bad I’d snort at the screen with laughter, but I remembered what we always say to our 5K Course runners: don’t worry about the quality of the workout – the goal is simply to get the fucker done.

Since November I’ve kept up the daily prompts. I have no goal in mind other than to just keep writing and keep building the muscle. Who knows what happens after that but it’s a good start. I’m also approximately 137% less grumpy now that I’m writing again.

Share this post

Kimba is famous for its Big Galah, lovely sandstone buildings and as the birthplace of “Cats” midfielder, Corey Enright. Can’t ask much more of a town of around 800 people. Oh, did I mention that you can buy a pair of jeans for $2, a collarless shirt for $1, a paperback mystery novel for 10c, home-grown lemons for 5c each or a like-new dressing gown (Giovanni) for $2? You can get all this and more from the Uniting Church Op Shop.

We left Kimba on Tuesday morning and on the way out of town, we visited the Big Galah. I’m not sure what it is about us Aussies that creates ‘Big Things’ around the country… maybe our Big Skies, Big Spaces, Big Coastlines etc have something to do with it.

Share this post

I don’t know what to say about all the rioting down south. I think we need more of this kind of behaviour in the streets:

Share this post

“Yesterday morning whilst I was enjoying my rolled oats, I was fortunate enough to witness a lovely sight – a black and white border collie, tail waving enthusiastically, accompanying an ‘original’ Aussie bloke (think shorts, tummy and thongs) on his walk. The dog was full of life, not pulling on his lead, but bouncing along on three legs. The rear right side leg was missing. I figure I need to remember my own blessings and bounce through life more often.”

Share this post

For the past couple of years I've been fighting the urge to sit down at gigs. I remember when we went to see Radiohead with my pals Jane and Rory in 2003 and they had seated tickets. I thought they were craaaazy! How could you not want to be right down the front, gazing straight up the nostrils of your idols, with strange, sweaty strangers pressing against you and/or sloshing lager all over your head. What's not to love?!

Hmm, yes. Well, I blame the Picture House in Edinburgh for speeding my descent into middle age. It has this great upstairs bit with plush benches to sit on that have a perfect view of the stage. The first time I went to a gig there I was in the standing area. I kept looking back up at the Seated People and thinking, Man. My feet hurt.

Last year we were back there to see Gary Numan. I didn't know feck all about Gary Numan except for Here in my car, blah blah blah blah so I reasoned: It's not like I'm an actual Gary Numan fan, so it's acceptable if I sit down on the comfy seats, just this once. Its only fair to leave more room for the true Numan lovers down the front of the stage.

But when we arrived at the Picture House last night I made a beeline for the stairs. In fact I made Gareth eat his dinner very quickly because I feared the comfy seats would go quick. AND I WAS RIGHT. We got there half an hour after doors opened and we only just managed to nab a spot on the sweet, comfy, lovely, cushioned benches.

Mogwai have been my pet band for a wee while now. Gareth was always been the big fan and had to coax me along to their Usher Hall a few years ago. He warned that they'd be loud but I did not expect to feel like my lungs had been hurled against my ribcage; the floor vibrating like a tractor beneath my feet. I wanted to diiiie. But they really grew on me and I became a big nerdy fan and have have seen them four times since. They are just hilarious and huge and foxy and loud and they tweet what they eat and did I mention they're really fucking loud.

ANYWAY I remember thinking when I was down the front at one gig a wee while back, I wonder if they band can see us? I wonder what it feels like to be in a band for years and years and years, and you started out seeing all these young, sexy faces in the front row then over time it becomes a sea of baldy heads and people who came along still in their work clothes? Are you cool with that because the fans still love you, and you're not as young as you used to be either? Or do you pine for the days of the young sexy faces? I wonder.

Last night I discovered there is a downside to the cosy seats. Sure you are comfortable, and you do not get bruised or shoved or have a plastic cup crushed against your skull, but you do get mature blokes intent on recording a whole song holding up their stupid little Flip video cameras right in your line of vision. PUT IT DOWN OLD TIMER. And said bloke is so excited to have a night away from the kids he insists on making the most of it by chugging a pint every fifteen minutes and having to get up between every song to go to the loo, for fuck's sake not AGAIN you incontinent bugger.

So the music was exhilarating and so very very very delightfully loud and today I still have that post-gig delirium where your whole body buzzes and you just feel glad to be alive. I don't think it matters how old you are or where you sit, if the music moves you, it's all good.

Share this post