Tonight I saw Arcade Fire play the SECC in Glasgow. Best gig I've seen in a while! Arcade Fire have this orchestral-rock clash sound, and it just blows you away. Put a grin on my face anyway, woo. All the band members seemed to loving it, and I love that too. Playing moosic should be as fun as it is to dance to.
So. Despite being in the Glasgow SECC (crap venue -- lots of massive halls, none of which have been designed with acoustics in mind), it was a brilliant gig. Worth an 800 mile round trip I feel. And get this, I went with my dad and his girlfriend. Never done that before. It was good. We had a meal beforehand in the posh-esque restaurant upstairs at the SECC. Also a first, coz me and my friends can't afford that kinda place!
Good night overall. It's now 1am. I donno what I'm doing tomoz. I don't have to drive back south until maybe 6pm, so I'll go visit my Mum, wee sister and nephew. I'm ill right now, meh, but I'm sure the little one will pass on some more undesirable infections, woo.
Overall right now, my spirits are low. Work is horrible, Milton Keynes is soul-sucking, and as usual, no boy at my side. Despite the possibility. I'm stressed. My skin is bad and my asthma is worsening once again. I have to move house again soon. And I'm already in debt. Toronto/NYC didn't help, heh. Don't care though, had fun.
But am now wondering what the hell to do now. Edinburgh? Glasgow? And to do what? I have a degree in Computing but hate Windows. I have a love for media but no relevant experience. I like building websites but I'm a mediocre all-rounder. I have bits of management experience, project management, procurement, editing, design, knowledge of the cinema business and specifically Projection, and the list goes on. What what do you get when you add it altogether? I have no idea. I was crap at maths.
I'm throwing numbers and letters around in a pan, with a spot of soul and a sprinkling of love, finished off with a large helping of energy. The end result though was a burnt mush of desperation.
Graham's blog: politics, poetry, and introspection