"Even if I got rid of all my problems, I'd just go out and get new ones..."

Bubbleguns and wasp stings
1:06 p.m. on 2005-10-06

So....

Went to see Tom McRae for what Hayley and I worked out was the 5th and a half time. (The half comes from a gig we bought tickets for, but were unable to get to due to a train strike.)

Seriously, if you have never heard any of his work, then go to his website and download a few of the free tracks. He has one of the most amazing, soulful, beautiful voices I've ever heard. He makes me tingle in places that, well, they don't normally tingle! His gigs are always amazing - no more so than this one, which featured the entire band and... well, the atmosphere was great, the sound was great, he did all the classics, encouraged us to sing along, and he pretended he had never been given a bubble gun before when I handed him one during his rendition of "Boy with a Bubble Gun." Despite the fact that he probably has about a hundred of them already.

In my defence, it wasn't planned. I bought it for Hayley, thinking we could play with it before the concert, but when a couple of friendly bouncers took pity on us and let us into the union early, it never had a chance to escape its packet. It was only when Tom launched into the chorus that it clicked.

So I had a fangirl moment. Meh, so sue me.

Spent most of Sunday whining, after being stung by a wasp. Seriously, who thinks to put a sign warning "Wasps nest!" three yards away from the bloody nest! How about some warning, next time? Like, 'wasps nest twenty yards,' 'ten yards,' 'five yards,' not 'under your bloody feet, now run like the billy-o!'

Thankfully a rather lovely young couple with their kids were walking in the opposite direction, and the mother bravely knocked the bugger out of my hair. I was too startled to even say thanks, although I suspect she guessed that from the way I was wriggling and squeaking and desperately not trying to swear in front of her children.

Ergh. I hate wasps. The bloody thing still feels all... itchy, and whatnot. And the culprit escaped. Damn it!

There is a guy who stands near my work and hands out free papers. He's friendly and chatty, probably because he's quite bored. This morning he told me I looked lovely, complimented my hair colour and said my scarf brought out the highlights, then gave me a hug. It's... strange, in a way it shouldn't be. He's just being friendly (yes, I know what you're thinking, but he has a wife and kids and just.. it isn't that, alright?) but, possibly because, I dunno, I'm shy, or English, or... me... it's just a little bemusing.

Nice though. Hugging a stranger is a good way to start the day.

Listening to: Baby Bird "F-Word"

Quote: "It won't last. Brothers and sisters are natural enemies. Like Englishmen and Scots! Or Welshmen and Scots! Or Japanese and Scots! Or Scots and other Scots! Damn Scots! They ruined Scotland! "

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