Tuesday, 27 July 2010

I'm almost famous.

I'm totally in this collaboration video about fighting homophobia. Suck it! It's such an amazing video though! Watch it all, but especially 0:54-0:58.

Monday, 26 July 2010

The day I met Regina Spektor.

I literally can’t express my emotions into words right now, but I’ll have a go at it anyway.
            For the second time, I was going to see Regina Spektor. You know, that amazing singer who I utterly adore and have her name tattooed on my back…? Yeah, that one. This time, we had to travel all the way to Cambridge. Despite booking in advance, it definitely wasn’t without its difficulties…
            Georgie and I had arranged to meet at 10:30 in Southampton, so I got up at 9, got ready, put my Regina Spektor hoodie on, found out mother had stained it with hair dye, almost killed her, then left to get the train. Being the douchebag I am, I forgot the bloody tickets, so managed to miss the train, forcing me to get another one! This was like, super bad, because we could only get one train up to London or we’d have to buy tickets and would miss our coach. Luckily, I was actually on the train we were getting, so I just stayed on it instead of meeting Georgie early.
            Anyway, we arrive at London, and have to meet Georgie’s cousins flatmate so she can give us the key to their apartment, so we’d actually have a roof over our heads that night. We had 25 minutes to get from the train station to the coach station. I thought that was ample time, ‘cause Google told me it took 10 minutes! Apparently, that didn’t include getting the key, and walking from the underground to the coach station, so we may or may not have missed it… Luckily, I’m super rich, so we stood in a queue for about an hour and I bought us new coach tickets for a coach that’d get us in at about 6 o’clock. This was annoying. Why? I wanted to get to the front, like, the very front of the concert and the doors opened at 7, meaning, there’d probably be loads of people already there and we wouldn’t even get close!
            However, we got to Cambridge Corn Exchange and there were only a handful of people in front of us. Probably about 20-30 people. As soon as we got in line, a guy, by himself, stood behind us. We felt it appropriate to talk to him, and he was an Australian called Tom. He was utterly lovely, and we spent the rest of the evening with him. He was also going back to London that evening and informed us of a coach back at 12:45. Our tickets were for the 11:30 coach back, and we thought that it wouldn’t finish before then so we’d miss it, so, I phoned up Daddy and he booked two tickets for the later coach. He did.
            At 7, the doors opened and we rushed to get in. Bags had to be put in the cloakroom, so we ran up to it and tried to be as quick as possible! We ran back down, and hurried to the stage. We managed to get to the second row from the front. I, unfortunately, was behind two really, super, gigantically tall people, and I could just about see over their shoulders. I did ask them to move slightly at one point, and there were as helpful as they could be, but there was literally no space, but, whatever.
            So, the support act, Nicole Atkins, came on and sang. She was really good and really sweet, but she kept ending every single song with a slow chord. Literally, every single song. Regardless of that, you should most definitely YouTube her. Like, right now. Well, after you’ve read this. After Nicole Atkins (or Catherine, as Tom called her) finished her set, it was Regina’s turn…
            Now, Regina came on stage and looked really depressed. Why? Her cellist, Dan Cho, who she’d be touring with for at least 8 months, had drowned two weeks previous. Understandably, she was upset. In fact, I wouldn’t have blamed her if she cancelled the rest of the tour. However, she still sang, incredibly, but there was little audience interaction and no encore. It was still amazing, bar the two tall people.
            The set finished at around 10:30, and I didn’t cry, but I was slightly depressed once it was over. We got our stuff, and then started talking to Nicole Atkins for about 10 minutes, who was lovely! Oh, and we totally hugged her. Then we were asked to move, ‘cause they had to close and stuff. Georgie and I realised that we could have got the coach we intended to get, but decided to stay with Tom and get the coach with him. We went to a pub and got a drink. Then they were hungry, so we walked back in the direction of the Corn Exchange towards a really cheap, ganky takeaway trailer we passed on the way. After getting our ‘nutritious’ meals, we thought it’d be fun to wait by Regina’s tour bus, on the odd chance we could meet her.
            Nicole Atkins came out and we talked to her some more. She asked for a ‘smoke’, but I’d literally just ran out, so after delving in her bag and finding one, she used my lighter. Yeah, that’s right; I’m in with famous people. Anyway, there were only about 7 other people there. Regina’s violinist was there, and we told him how good he was, and then talked to Nicole Atkins some more. Then, we heard ‘See you later, Regina’ and I literally froze. She walked round the corner, and it was like I was paralyzed. All I could do was slightly lift my arm to point at her and say ‘Th-th-that’s… That’s Re…’ Luckily, Georgie asked for a picture and we got one, I had to quickly calm down, so I could actually talk to her. I said ‘Um, can I have a hug, please, cause that’d probably make my life complete…’ and she gave me a hug. Then, feeling slightly more brave, I said ‘At the risk of sounding super creepy…’ then turned around and pulled my top down exposing my tattoo. She held my top down, stroke my tattoo and apparently, as soon as she saw it, she had a massive grin on her face like she was stupidly happy to see it. She said it was ‘amazing’, and then I told her that I saw her MySpace blog on Prop 8 and gave her one of my ‘Homosexuality is NOT a choice, but homophobia is’ wristbands. She said (regarding Prop 8) ‘I fucking hate that shit.’ She then had to go, and we walked off. About 10 seconds after, I started hyperventilating, tears in my eyes, and we were all completely shocked about what happened. We were walking through the streets of Cambridge with Tom shouting ‘WE JUST MET REGINA SPEKTOR!’. It truly was one of the best moments of my life.
            We got on the coach, looked at the picture, talked about how surreal it all was, then slept. We arrived at London, left Tom, which kinda sucked and went back to Georgie’s cousins ridiculously huge apartment. I’m talking, water features with mosaic tiles inside and a lounge bigger than a normal students apartment.
            In the morning, we met up with Becky, our friend from college who stupidly decided to move to London so we’d like, never see her again. We had a really great catch up, and had a great time with her. Then, it was time to go home. We got the train, then Daddy picked me up from the station, and I told him all about it.
            It’s never going to feel real to me, that I met Regina Spektor. I’ve literally imagined it so many times; it just feels like another fantasy. I’ve told so many people exactly what I’ve written down, and no matter how many times I’ve said it, or how many times I look at the picture, it still hasn’t sunk in. Hopefully, I’ll see her again soon. Oh, Regina Spektor, how I love you so.

Saturday, 24 July 2010

My EPIC birthday.

Saturday 10th July – My 18th birthday.
Thursday 8th July – Sunday 11th July – Gay Pride.
And that’s not the only reason why my birthday was the best one EVER!

Friday night was the start of my birthday, and Pride, celebrations. I decided that for my birthday, it should be themed, which, of course, was ‘gay’. That meant basically anything to go with homos; icons, celebrities, stereotypes, whatever! I went as something I’ve always wanted to dress up as; a drag king, and I looked bloody handsome! I had a white shirt, black tie, waistcoat, smart trousers, bound chest, slicked back hair, a goatee… The full works.
            The night started with pre-drinks round Keya’s with me, Brodie, David, Dan, Amy, and, of course, Keya. David got me a case of beer, and we got our drink on. Brodie was Boy George, Keya was basically naked (the way I like him!), Dan was a rainbow, David had his ‘I <3 Lady GayGay’ t-shirt on, but I totally looked the best, no contest. Georgie made a brief appearance to give me my present – a ‘vibrating love chair’. I’ll leave that thought with you for a minute.
            We drank, and then we headed off to town. On the bus, we made some friends with a Spanish girl, and probably pissed the rest of the passengers off. We got to the clubs. We danced, we drank, some more people came, and we got our crunk on. I got some birthday lovin’, but that’s all I’m saying on that matter. Also, Keya fell off the stage, creating a giant gash on his shoulder which I was insisting was simple a flesh wound, but ‘everyone else was saying he needed to go to hospital’ (that was shouted at me, by him.)
            At some point in the night (we were all very drunk) I met a lovely Scottish lad, and mimicked his accent for a good 30 minutes. It was a lot of fun! At around midnight, Keya launched himself on me, took me to the ground and started shouting the Happy Birthday song in my face, while waving his cigarette around! He then proceeded to smooch my face off and bellow ‘WAS I THE FIRST ONE?!’.
            Also, I told my two favourite barmen, Rob and Keith that it was my birthday, and I got a birthday drink and a birthday hug from them. Seriously, they’re awesome.
            We went got in taxi, I talked to the lovely driver, and read the paper while everyone in the back was sleeping, or dying, and we got back at around 5 am, and went to bed, so we could be ready for the Pride parade the next day.

            Keya, Brodie and I all agreed that we should wake up at half nine, giving us plenty of time to get ready to leave by eleven. I stayed at Brodie’s that night, and we were both up on time. I had to wash the hairspray and gel out of my hair with cold water, and it was utterly gross. The cold water helped a lot with my hangover, but my hair wasn’t fully clean and when I touched it, I wanted to vomit.
            It was almost half ten and Keya had made no contact with us, so I was forced to go round his house and knock on his bedroom door. He shouted ‘GO AWAY’ at me, but then came to the door looking very hungover. I left him to get ready, went back to mine and begged my parents for a lift to town, as I also wanted them to be there. By them, I mean Ella.
            They reluctantly decided to come, despite my mother saying that ‘this type of thing isn’t usually appropriate for a 5 year old’. Okay, seriously, the worst thing is the drunken, half naked, overly camp men grinding on objects! Anyway… We arrived where Keya and I were meeting our LGBT youth group, and, still hungover, had to walk for about an hour until we actually reached the parade starting point! Finally, we were there, and it was the most beautiful sight of my life.
            We walked up the hill, and slowly saw the crowds of people, vehicles, rainbows, and gayness and happiness radiating from everyone. There were drag queens in cowboy hats and dresses, gay men in cars, lesbians galore and everyone had smiles on their faces. We took our places in the parade, among the other kids from the youth group, we had whistles and I had my pride flag at the ready.
            The parade started to move, and just seeing the procession of people, knowing I was in there, with them, gave me chills. We marched through town, passing children waving, old people smiling at us from their balconies, people cheering, all at us. They were all supporting our cause, and marching for something that is so important to me, and having a sea of people cheering, shouting, waving, and supporting us was the most overwhelming and emotional experience of my life. I struggled to hard to keep the tears back. I’ve never felt so proud in my life, which, I guess is kinda the point for Gay Pride, right?
            After the amazing parade, Keya, Brodie and I went down to watch the other events and made Ella, and my parents come too. Ella was watching the singing and really enjoyed it. She also liked holding my flag. We stayed and watched for a bit, then decided to go home in the afternoon to get ready for the celebrations that evening!
            I got home and saw my grandma for a bit. She made me cake, I couldn’t *not* see her! Then showered, and got ready for the evenings events, with a stomach still not feeling right.
            We went back to pride, this time, Keya, Louisa and I. We started off at the Pride area, where we abused a topless Mohican, with ‘Kiss My’ and an arrow pointing to his arse tattooed on him. We made up dance moves, inspired by people we saw which was hilarious! Then a very drunk friend kept wishing me a happy birthday. Then we went clubbing, I still felt sick, but I decided that drinking would help me through the pain! So, that’s what I did! Louisa, unfortunately, went home early ‘cause she was feeling ill, which sucked, but I didn’t want her to have a crappy night not feeling too good. I ended up getting very drunk, bumping into an ‘ex’ (loose term) and having a very, very awkward conversation with her. Then, at around 4 am, I thought it’d be really fun to shadow the people working there! First, I sat behind the desk checking whether or not people had stamps when they came in. Then, after the girl wanted her job back, I stood by the door, arms crossed, looking slightly angry, and asked people for ID and stamps, and they genuinely bought it! So many people, as long as they didn’t know me, believed I was a bouncer! I then went to cheer up my baby Keith (one of the awesome barmen I mentioned earlier), we were talking and I made him happy. Then he got me a lollypop and that made me happy! I got bored and thought it’d be an amazing idea to go and offer drinks to the staff and collect empty glasses. Then, I got a cloth and wiped down the surfaces. This meant I got another lolly and a free drink! This may seem extremely strange, but it was actually the most fun I’d had in a long time! I then saw Keith going into Tesco and helped with his shopping… There’s something wrong with me.
            It was 8 am and, since the sun was coming out, we decided it’d be a good time to leave the phone box with Adam Lambert and Diego (he’s lovely) and get the bus back home. Plus, I felt like death.

            On Sunday, Keya, Louisa, Diego and I met in town again, and this time, I felt less death-y but still quite death-y. It seemed like a good idea (after my Pepsi and ice cream from KFC) to get the drinks in. I ordered vodka and ice, which was SO good for my hangover! Like, it really was! Then we watched this theatre group perform on stage and they were the worst. Singers. EVER! Like, my ears started bleeding, they had little applause and their choreographer should have been shot. Regardless, the more I drunk the more Louisa and I deemed it necessary to mock them by mimicking their dance moves and singing. It’s okay, they couldn’t hear us…
            We carried on drinking, and listened to the bangin’ tunez on DJ Pride. Yes, the DJ was called ‘DJ Pride’. Then, Louisa spotted a scrawny, ginger barman, who she immediately fancied. We kept getting drinks, well, Louisa and I did, and before Keya and Diego left, because we’d embarrassed Keya, they went up to the barman and told him that Louisa/’that girl over there’ (my cue to point) fancied him. Louisa, extremely embarrassed refused to get anymore drinks until he had gone. It was just Louisa and I left, and I kept trying to make her talk to him, but alas, she wouldn’t.
            We spent the rest of the night avoiding stalky lesbians who know me, and I chatted up some Polish woman with a haircut like Obi Wan Kenobi for fun.
            It was time to leave, as Louisa had a train and it closed at 11 pm. Before we left, Ginger Barman apologised for earlier when we made a pathetic attempt at talking to him by asking for a lighter and he walked away. Then, I stole his phone, and saved Lou’s number in it and told him to text her. He never did…
            As we were walking to the train station, we managed to find out who won the World Cup by the masses and masses of Spanish people ecstatically cheering. We managed to get through the crowds of people by walking though, with a spring in our step, shouting ‘Hola!’, ‘Espana!’ and ‘Te amo Espanol!’. We’re not fluent in the language, so they were the three things we mustered up.
            Finally, we emerged from the thousands of Spanish people, to find a ripped t-shirt on top of a bin. Being the hyper drunkards we are, we took the t-shirt. Louisa took a whiff of the bin shirt and discovered that it was actually very clean. She still has it and plans to wear it.
            We eventually arrived at the train station, Louisa abandoned me to get a train, I got harassed by a skag’ead for 50p and then I went home and slept for about a thousand hours with a massive smile on my face because it truly was the best birthday weekend ever.
            Thank you to everyone who made my birthday amazing; my friends, family and random drunk people I met. I love the memories, and will treasure them forever.