It is 11.12 am and it feels like 6 am holding a frying pan in a threatening manner.
Yesterday I flew back from the Golden West, and then on to sushi, to nap, to concert. The concert was Skybox, Jukebox the Ghost and Tally Hall. Given that I was wretched and tired, I can perhaps be forgiven for skipping out after Jukebox, the folks I was really there to see. Both they and Skybox were quite good, and we had a good time. It is still odd, going to these concerts full of people looking almost, but not exactly, like I did an awkward ten years ago, down to the spangly tights and ill-advised shirts. No, they looked better, good thing too, and while they lacked some appreciation for New Order's Temptation, it occurred to me that I am glad that not all the people who are younger than me are like the shiny sleek San Diego women, and that my kind still exists.