Sunday night blues...
It's that time again. Sunday night. Do any of you get Sunday night blues? Of course you do. I would probably bet my...um....computer, vegetarianism and my little brother on this fact. Unless you were home schooled. One would think that as your home IS your school that Sunday night blues was an every night occurance. But tonight I have it. All day my flatmate and I have been painting so I would assume that is why I'm feeling this way. My weekends gone to making the house paint-a-lisious and I've had no sleep due to dancing my ass off to British indie music at my favorite little dancing establishment the garage last night until 4am. (which is sadly having 3 months off to renovate - renovate? Who needs to renovate. It's supposed to look grungy. Just give 'er a lick of paint and presto! We're back to dancing!).
So on Friday I saw my friend's band Version 88 at The Spice of Life in Soho. It was a cute little venue. Who knew? Not me...anyway. I got to talking to the drummer - and when you think drummer, you think of Wilco's Heavy Metal Drummer - you know "She used to go see on the landing in the summer, She fell in love with a drummer"? Well I didn't fall in love and I didn't really think of the song BUT the drummer, his name...his name....drum roll....was Wilco! How crazy cool was that? It was trust me.
Well. Hmm. I've come to realize when you're in this state, you don't feel much like writing or doing anything. I've tried. I'm trying really as I am still writing this thing. Maybe it's just a distraction from bad television. Or I'm procrastinating when I should just go to bed. It is 1:30 after all in London town. Or I'm just wanting to chat and everyone back home is off enjoying Father's day (happy father's day dad!) and everyone here is sleeping. I even tried calling my sister but she's off to play on a Frizbee team with hot guys. Some girls have all the luck.
Oh. I'm still sniffy by the way. My flatmate told me to blow my nose as snot is the only thing that turns her stomach when she's eating (I guess it's ok at any other time). Unfortunately I just blew it 2 minutes before. So no I'm not gross - just the blowing of the nose doesn't work for me...damn you allergies! You've foiled me again.
So on Friday I saw my friend's band Version 88 at The Spice of Life in Soho. It was a cute little venue. Who knew? Not me...anyway. I got to talking to the drummer - and when you think drummer, you think of Wilco's Heavy Metal Drummer - you know "She used to go see on the landing in the summer, She fell in love with a drummer"? Well I didn't fall in love and I didn't really think of the song BUT the drummer, his name...his name....drum roll....was Wilco! How crazy cool was that? It was trust me.
Well. Hmm. I've come to realize when you're in this state, you don't feel much like writing or doing anything. I've tried. I'm trying really as I am still writing this thing. Maybe it's just a distraction from bad television. Or I'm procrastinating when I should just go to bed. It is 1:30 after all in London town. Or I'm just wanting to chat and everyone back home is off enjoying Father's day (happy father's day dad!) and everyone here is sleeping. I even tried calling my sister but she's off to play on a Frizbee team with hot guys. Some girls have all the luck.
Oh. I'm still sniffy by the way. My flatmate told me to blow my nose as snot is the only thing that turns her stomach when she's eating (I guess it's ok at any other time). Unfortunately I just blew it 2 minutes before. So no I'm not gross - just the blowing of the nose doesn't work for me...damn you allergies! You've foiled me again.
posted by Heather "Tails" Taylor at 1:15 am
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