It's just around 2 hours until the tickets for Leeds and Reading festival 2011 go on sale and I'd need an extra pair of arms to count how many people have facebook statuses about the line-up. To be honest, I'd never even heard of Leeds Fest until I was about 17, then suddenly it became this huge thing that we all just HAD to go to, otherwise we were 'gay' (although I have to mention, I first went because I love live bands and a weekend away camping, singing, dancing and getting wasted sounded amazing - not because I was scared of turning homosexual). Anyway, the last two festivals I went to, 08 and 09, were awesome. For those 5 days in Bramham Park you truly do live in a bubble with no worries. I say no worries, Leeds Fest has been the cause of the only two big arguments me and Charl have ever had. One because I was adamant our friends tent was where I said (It wasn't. I was drunk. I couldn't have told you where I was, never mind the tent) and the other when when we were seperated and couldn't find eachother despite our fool-proof plan of meeting at a relentless sign... Seperated because of my love of Feeder, and her love of Pendulum and being kicked in the crotch (She doesn't have a love of being kicked in the crotch... as far as I know. It just happened while AT Pendulum.) Apart from these minor blips, the festival gives me some of the best times of my life so far.
Which is probably why, come days like today when the tickets go on sale, everything turns into a frenzy until people have their tickets and are satisfied with the line-up. The line-up is what gave me the means to write this rant. What I can't stand is people moaning about who has been chosen to play - if you're going to buy a ticket anyway because you want to sit in a field all weekend getting well and truly totalled then shut the hell up. If you're disappointed that people you wanted to see aren't playing, just enjoy the bands you do like. I'm not a huge fan of indie bands, but my excitement for the people I do like overrides the need for me to slate them. Never mind posting facebook statuses declaring you'd "rather die than see My Chemical Romance". For one, I don't think you would, unless you're a suicidal maniac, and two, DON'T GO SEE THEM THEN! All these walking contradictions who claim the line-up is the shittest they've ever seen, only to go and spend £200 to attend can only be described as fools. Or they just like the sound of their own voice. My Chemical Romance, for me and Charlotte, would be a highlight. Ever since we sat in the learning centre (a room full of computers - we're not retarded) in year 10 listening to The Black Parade album we've longed to see them. It went so far as to us finding an A4 photo of Gerard Way stuck to someones folder in R.E. and thinking it appropriate to prop him up so he looked over us as we learned... as opposed to Jesus. Somehow I don't think our religious education teacher was best pleased we were worshipping a man who sings lyrics such as "mama, we all go to hell, it's really quite pleasant except for the smell".
Whoever the line-up, we know we'll have a weekend we'll never forget - especially if the rumours are true. So there Charl will be sat at 7.15pm tonight on See tickets, ready to hit Buy, while I'm on speaker phone all set to scream out the line-up to her. I won't be slagging off who I don't want to see, I'll be too worked up over the bands I do want to see. Unless the rumours are true about The Strokes, man they are shit! :P
Monday, 21 March 2011
Thursday, 10 March 2011
Starbucks - The American Dream?
I've been neglecting my blog lately. I have to say it's not because I've not found anything funny or annoying to write about, because trust me, I have. Only a couple of weeks ago I got stuck stood up on the train from Leeds to Castleford (I'm now jinxed when it comes to public transport thanks to Charlotte) inbetween a chav with a bike, playing noise, sorry music, from his phone while holding it next to his ear (I know not many of these types have qualifications but their stupidity amazes me) and an extremely overweight couple eating eachothers faces. It was probably the worst position I have ever been in, in my life. To top it off, when the train turned a corner or jerked, the fat man leaned into me, while still necking his girlfriend. So now I was TOUCHING the couple practically having sex. Her chubby fingers didn't even reach around his back! The only way to get away from the whales was to move closer to the chav, which he decided to take as me enjoying his music and proceeded to turn it up and hold the phone closer to me. Only in Cas. Welcome home Bec!
Right, today my sister told me she had a couple of hours to kill inbetween classes at Uni, so I told her I'd meet her at Starbucks in town. Why I still choose to go there while I'm a typical skint student to buy a £9 coffee is beyond me. It must have something to do with the American dream. They lure you in, I swear! You even have to practice what you want before you order, there are that many options! So I go in, my sister is already there having bagged the comfy seats. (It goes without saying, these are the seats you want. You go and buy a cup of tea and then make yourself at home on a sofa... JUST STAY IN!) I go up to the counter to order and I know what's coming. No matter how many times I practice this, I ALWAYS say Thai Chi Latte instead of Chai Tea. I wouldn't really mind. I'm not easily embarrassed. It's an easy mistake to make. However... every single time I have said it wrong, no matter which Starbucks I've been in, or who has served me, the barista suddenly ERUPTS into fits of laughter. Okay, I know you've all been taught to be happy happy like the Americans and treat your customers like they are the only person on the planet, but seriously, spare me the fake laughter. It does my head in. I'm not trying to be funny. I find it hard to say. Get over it.
I finally get my CHAI TEA LATTE and go and sit opposite my sister. The relaxing Starbucks atmosphere evaporates. Next to my sister a partially blind woman sits down with a guide dog that, due to being 'on her break' (How does she know? Does she clock out?) proceeds to act like a nuisance. Then a woman, her friend and her daughter join us. The downfall of the comfy seats is that if you're wanting a private chat, the sofas are almost set in a circle and so Starbucks etiquette means you'll be sharing the space with people you may or may not wish to. The little girl strikes up a conversation with the blind woman about the dog. (The glory of young children being that they will say whatever they think.) I quickly notice she's saved a (very hot) guy in the corner from hearing the woman's life story, while the dog lays at his feet. He carries on doing what he's doing on his laptop, hopelessly trying to avoid the woman's questions, as the dog gets up and tries to eat everything on the table - the women's frappucinos, left over muffins, napkins. I find myself just watching the situation, amused that I'm not smack in the middle of it. Poor guy. As the blind woman keeps apologising to hot guy for the dog, the child keeps asking the blind woman everything about the dog, the childs mum keeps telling her daughter off and the dog carries on eating the leftovers. Thank God I have an overpriced latte to keep me occupied. The madness did, however, give me countless opportunities to catch hot guys eye and smile/laugh/cringe at his situation. I was happy to leave the chaos when it was time for Sarah to go back to Uni. As for hot guy, he waved his phone at me, followed me out, asked for my number and asked me out for a drink the very same night. Result! I LOVE STARBUCKS!
Right, today my sister told me she had a couple of hours to kill inbetween classes at Uni, so I told her I'd meet her at Starbucks in town. Why I still choose to go there while I'm a typical skint student to buy a £9 coffee is beyond me. It must have something to do with the American dream. They lure you in, I swear! You even have to practice what you want before you order, there are that many options! So I go in, my sister is already there having bagged the comfy seats. (It goes without saying, these are the seats you want. You go and buy a cup of tea and then make yourself at home on a sofa... JUST STAY IN!) I go up to the counter to order and I know what's coming. No matter how many times I practice this, I ALWAYS say Thai Chi Latte instead of Chai Tea. I wouldn't really mind. I'm not easily embarrassed. It's an easy mistake to make. However... every single time I have said it wrong, no matter which Starbucks I've been in, or who has served me, the barista suddenly ERUPTS into fits of laughter. Okay, I know you've all been taught to be happy happy like the Americans and treat your customers like they are the only person on the planet, but seriously, spare me the fake laughter. It does my head in. I'm not trying to be funny. I find it hard to say. Get over it.
I finally get my CHAI TEA LATTE and go and sit opposite my sister. The relaxing Starbucks atmosphere evaporates. Next to my sister a partially blind woman sits down with a guide dog that, due to being 'on her break' (How does she know? Does she clock out?) proceeds to act like a nuisance. Then a woman, her friend and her daughter join us. The downfall of the comfy seats is that if you're wanting a private chat, the sofas are almost set in a circle and so Starbucks etiquette means you'll be sharing the space with people you may or may not wish to. The little girl strikes up a conversation with the blind woman about the dog. (The glory of young children being that they will say whatever they think.) I quickly notice she's saved a (very hot) guy in the corner from hearing the woman's life story, while the dog lays at his feet. He carries on doing what he's doing on his laptop, hopelessly trying to avoid the woman's questions, as the dog gets up and tries to eat everything on the table - the women's frappucinos, left over muffins, napkins. I find myself just watching the situation, amused that I'm not smack in the middle of it. Poor guy. As the blind woman keeps apologising to hot guy for the dog, the child keeps asking the blind woman everything about the dog, the childs mum keeps telling her daughter off and the dog carries on eating the leftovers. Thank God I have an overpriced latte to keep me occupied. The madness did, however, give me countless opportunities to catch hot guys eye and smile/laugh/cringe at his situation. I was happy to leave the chaos when it was time for Sarah to go back to Uni. As for hot guy, he waved his phone at me, followed me out, asked for my number and asked me out for a drink the very same night. Result! I LOVE STARBUCKS!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)