It’s Friday, I’m In Love

Since Tuesday I’ve been out every night.  For the first time I was able to go to Norwich Poetry Club at The Bicycle Shop.  I was wearing small heels but inside was so dimly lit I had to be careful down the stairs and it took Hannah Walker a while to recognise me.  She was the only person I spoke to as I was feeling shy for some reason.  I also spoke to a woman briefly who I’d asked to sit next too.  I noticed she left before the last act and Luke Wright sat next to me.  He was hosting the show and although hosting is not a job that goes hand-in-hand with performance poetry (I am not so good at it!) he does it well.  He read a lot of new poems and they reminded me of old poems I’d read as a kid, a kind of naughty children’s poetry, and I mean this as a good thing (I’ve studied Children’s Literature after all).

Hattie Grunewald was the first feature for the evening, and although I already know and like her poetry I learnt about her successes so far – she has been taught by Caroline Bird after winning awarded withe the prestige of being a Foyle Young Poet, and had her poetry on the Underground, and as you can see on the link I’ve placed on her name, she has published books out there!  Slightly jealous if I’m honest.  I get annoyed at myself for not remembering details so I made a note of a couple of expressions I liked – the idea of someone tasting like a newsagents and eyes that rust.

John Osborne was next, promoting his new book.  Now, I’m far too promiscuous to state as Luke did, that he is my favourite poet, but he is up there.  He told a poem about a surprise party his girlfriend had organised and nobody turned up, which I related too… until he said it wasn’t true and “I don’t have a girlfriend, so the joke’s on you”.  This blend of fact and fiction inspired a poem I wrote that night, called Circumstances, which was also influenced by a poet called Tao Lin who I’ve been reading and I hoped for a kind of dry humour combined with a bleakness.  Anyway, back to John, and other favourites from the night include a poem about a guy that didn’t pay his pound into a syndicate at work the week they won, called ‘that money would have turned you into a bastard anyway’, and a heart-warming poem about a break-up.

The headline was Thick Richard, but if I’m honest, he wasn’t my favourite part of the evening.  He had a bit of a death theme, and I do like a theme, but still, I wasn’t impressed.  The crowd seemed to like it though, laughing where I couldn’t muster a chuckle.  The poem I most liked was something like ‘why don’t girls who like men like that like me?’ about seemingly nice girls going for bad guys.  He’s a chef though so maybe he could win my heart through my stomach.

It ended a bit past 9pm so I got to pop to The Birdcage for Lucy Day and The Knights’ EP release!  Inlay flaked out of supporting but the other acts, Blanche Ellis and Drew McDonnell were really great.  Before Lucy came on, I noticed the girl next to me put out some burning paper, and I was like fuck!  I smelt it and wondered what it was but didn’t even realise it was right next to me.  I think she only put it out because I turned my head and saw it, weird!

The gig was amazing and I’m so glad I went along!  I’ve listened to the collection of songs from Lucy a few times and had a few running around in my head.  I loved Forsaken and the lyrics have made me think about my own pursuits.  Sometimes I feel like I agree with the song, something does have to be forsaken.  For me, I’m so sucky at relationships, at times I think it’s just not meant for me – the happily, or not-so-happily married with kids life.  I could deal with the current patterns of my love life if only it meant I could be a success in other areas, namely my career.   We get told we can have it all, but maybe we can’t always.  I have this need and desire for love and for faithfulness and matrimony but I know the reality of this is near impossible, and that even if I did get married, it just may be a more serious example of how things end in tears.  It can be frustrating to have this desire but I guess it’s as much a part of living, to go through those kinds of ups and downs, as all the other elements of life, and should be embraced as such.  I think that since finishing my university work I feel a bit weird, like there’s so much I want to do that I don’t know where to start or if I have enough time.

Anyway, Wednesday I had a gig at The Birdcage myself.  I wore this dress with birdcages on it from Topshop, and an hourglass necklace from Urban Outfitters. Oh! And these cute bird earrings from UO as well.  I teamed it with green tights and my vintage Charles shoes.

My friends Helen and Laura came to watch and we went for a half-pint at spoons afterwards.  I knew all of the performers so I didn’t much feel nervous or anything, though I was a little unprepared as I kept switching my mind about which poems to read, and I did the new one, ‘Circumstances’ though it probably needs a lot of work, and I don’t know if people got the humour, or if I delivered it right.  The rest was okay, and I did a few by heart.

So, the list of performers… Bethan Williams, Jennifer Grey, Imogen Steinberg, Andy Bennet, Catherine Woodward, me and, headlining, John Osborne.  Jenny said she was nervous… in fact, so did Catherine and Andy!  Jenny always gives a confident reading though and was fine once she was up there.  Andy’s was really interesting and amazing considering he’d written them in the past 48 hours!  I knew why Catherine was nervous once she was up there, she gave a very different performance – all by heart and even including a cheeky lip-licking and winking!  After that, I was scared to follow her but think it went okay.

Last night I was a volunteer at Hannah Rose Jone’s Independently Fashioned.  I was on the door so met everyone and sorted out tickets (which turned out to be inking people’s hands) and all the stuff like that.  It was stressful at times, but I got used to it and it was actually really refreshing how lovely everyone was.  The only embarrassing thing was when one of the designers gave me £40 and I counted on my fingers to work out 40-25 to get her change.  I get so stressed when doing the simplest mental maths that my mind just goes blank.  I was to say ‘I’m not stupid, I got a B for GCSE maths, it’s just the pressure or something’ but I just end up looking a bit silly, oh well.  I should have done my research about the designers because it was a bit embarrassing not knowing know they were.

I didn’t get to see much but it did look like a great show, plus there were musicians Jordan Jackson and Cielo – most people at the end were asking about the band!  It was funny because one of the members asked to put some flyers on the table and said Jordan was good but that Cielo were a bit pretentious haha.  I had a good night, and Hannah even gave me a free headband for it, which I put on straight away and shall be wearing properly tonight!

xxx

Don’t Cart-wheel on Broken Glass

Last Thursday night LitSoc put on an event with CWS… though actually I think only one of our collaborators was there.  Anyway, this is possibly the last event we’re going to put on, but I’m hoping to put on another one.  I really want to pay the performers but I don’t think we have enough money… maybe on the next!

Anyway, we had to host as a committee (apart from Helen because she doesn’t like public speaking) because our host pulled out last-minute… very unprofessional haha.  We started off with a CWS open mic but the only member that came had to go away for something and so there wasn’t really any of their input but whatever.  I was the “sacrificial poet” first in the open mic and we had a decent number of people get up to read.

The night consisted of Catherine Woodward, followed by Grenouilles, and I was meant to go on then but I cut my set out so the night would run more smoothly (hence why I did the open mic instead).  Then Greta Healy and Hannah Walker gave us some poetry, and Robyn Comfort began with poetry and moved onto music.

Ending the night was Russell J Turner, Ashley Johnston, and Tim Clare.  I was really happy with how the evening went down, but I think I’m getting a bit too comfortable in my university bubble because I had rather too much wine to drink.  I stupidly left mid-way through Tim Clare’s set because a couple of friends were going out and apparently it was a “now or never” situation.  I feel really stupid and guilty for leaving and really regret it.  It’s something I’d be totally against when sober and if Captain of the Rant saw me that night, he’d be saying “now who’s rude? now who’s the dickhead?! hmmm?!”

I guess I got what I deserved.  I ended up at “Nowhere” and somehow was dancing on my own, wondering where one of the people I came with had gone but figuring I may as well just enjoy myself until we were reunited.  I had an urge at the beginning of the night to do a cart-wheel but we were busy setting up so I didn’t.  You better believe repressed urges will come out.  I decided to use an empty space to do a cart-wheel.  Now, this is something I would do sober as well, and have memories of doing it at kid’s birthday parties in my childhood, so I don’t know if I can entirely blame the alcohol for… maybe I can blame the club, or the dark lighting.

Anyway, I did the cart-wheel and I did it on a load of broken glass.  My hand got cut first and so I fell onto the floor and hurt my knee.  I was really embarrassed and rushed to the bar where I told them my hand really hurt and that I “thought” it was bleeding.  I looked down and there was blood going everywhere (including my lovely dress… it’s okay guys, it came out in the wash, thank god! It’s vintage you see).  I was taken to the back room and they got the first aid kit out and bandaged me up, but the guy said that if I cared what my knee looked like I needed to go to A&E.  I remember being quite casual about it because I didn’t think that I needed more than what he’d done, and I didn’t really want to go but him saying that obviously freaked me out…  I didn’t really want a deformed knee.

So… memory blank… somehow I got there.  Taxi I guess.  I waited for 3 hours and had nothing to do.  I had left my poetry and my iPod at the LitSoc event.  I wasted loads of texts and even tried calling my dad, and a friend I’d planned to call at the weekend.  It was past 2am so I didn’t get through.  I bought some crisps and a cookie from a machine.  I felt so depressed and lonely and just sat there for hours until I got so frustrated with everyone being seen apart from me that I started crying.  Not noticeably, just silently to myself.  I just wanted my parents there but they are in London and I am in Norwich.

Eventually I was seen and it was revealed it was a complete waste of time.  I didn’t even need stitches.  They just washed my hand (which had been previously glued) and then put these strips on my knee (which my dad said were butterfly stitches, but still… not proper stitches).  I got an expensive taxi home for £8 and when I arrived at mine at like 5am, the guy wouldn’t stop talking about how Shakespeare doesn’t exist.  I mean, bless him, but at 5am I just wanted to go to sleep before attempting at my busy day whilst being all tired and hungover.

It’s my housemate, Kristy’s birthday today so we’ve just made her fairy cakes and put them on this amazing cake stand we got her from Notty Green.  I’ve been listening to Funeral for a Friend’s new album Welcome Home Armageddon and it’s great!  More like the old stuff, wooo!  It’s been sunny and I’ve been wearing pink jeans and been in a good mood considering my preoccupation with a guy that doesn’t feel the same as me and general loneliness that creeps over me sometimes.  And random waves of panic about my life in general.  Anyway, before I start getting too personal and bitching about other stuff that’s annoying me, I’ll end.

xxx