music

A concert to remember

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Last night I was so excited to see PVRIS live. They are one of my favourite bands and I booked the tickets months ago, waited patiently, sometimes impatiently, for this night. This was meant to be an amazing evening, one to remember, and it was, but for all the wrong reasons.

Me and my partner arrived at the venue three quarters of an hour late. When I was younger, I would arrive hours early and queue up to be right at the front of the gig. Getting older, I’m much less patient now, can’t stand for as long (even though I’m only 23 – sometimes I feel so much older!) and so usually do my best to skip the support acts. That night we entered on the final song of the first support act, but we stood and listened to the second (and I must admit they were both pretty good and I may even check the second act out on YouTube.)

We first stood at the back of the venue and at my small height of 5ft 3, I could not see anything. Tom, being a whole foot taller than me was fine, which would have been great if it weren’t for the fact that I love PVRIS and Tom was only there for me. On both sides of the venue is a set of stairs and on one a girl was sat down looking out through the bars. Bingo, I’ll be able to see over her!

We walk up the stairs and I stand behind her and her dad (who is actually taking up three steps, whilst everyone else has one each to themselves,) and every now and again I move forwards a little for people to get up and down the stairs behind me. He turns and gives me a dirty look, but I ignore it. Then he accuses me of pushing him and I apologise even though I know I haven’t touched him. He starts to stick his ass out, slowly pushing my partner back. My partner is confused but, like me, ignores him. He’s just happy that I can see.

I stand and watch the support act, waiting for PVRIS to come on and all of a sudden the man turns and starts shouting at me angrily. I’m confused as first because I can hardly hear him over the music. He’s shouting “how dare you!” at me. He’s accusing me of trying to push in front of him and his daughter, which is unfair because they were there first. I’m not really sure why he thinks I’m trying to push in front of them when all I’ve done is stood behind them to be in the only untaken place where I can actually see the stage. I assure him that I am by no means trying to steal their place, but he just keeps shouting at me, repeating the same things over and over again, pushing his body further and further back to budge us away again.

Tom is shaking with anger at this point and I try to calm the man down before Tom loses it, but he just won’t give up and keeps telling me off for something I haven’t done. Tom can’t take it any longer and loses his cool with the man. He says that we paid to go to this gig and so it’s only fair that I can actually see it and the man argues back that he paid too and he was here first. Now, I don’t really know what this man was expecting. I don’t really know if he’s aware of the lack of personal space you get at a gig, or if he’s just picking a fight and thinks I’m an easy target, because the second Tom gets involved he keeps telling Tom to “chill.”

I have to physically step in and get Tom to calm down, even though I’m shaking with anger myself and the man is turning it on us by saying it’s us who need to calm down. I’m not sure how far this would have escalated, if it not for the fact I took Tom and moved to another part of the stairs, behind another girl who was sitting so that I could see. It didn’t stop the man giving us dirty looks through the whole gig though.

To top it all of, while in my new place on the stairs, I sat down during a break between moving one band’s gear off the stage and replacing it with the second band’s instruments and I managed to get punched in the face. Not the old man luckily, or I think Tom may have gone into full on attack mode, but a random guy walking past who apologised straight away. He did knock my glasses off though, which fell down the stairs and annoyingly landed right at the other man’s feet. I made Tom go and get my glasses, as there was no way I was going near him again.

Turned out it wasn’t just me though, as another really short girl couldn’t see either and so she made her way up the stairs and behind the man’s daughter to look past her at the gig too. He didn’t start an argument with her, but once again he started pushing his ass out as far as he could to the point she was back against the banisters and ended up having to walk back down the steps and to a place where she couldn’t see anything.

I will never forget this asshole and if I see him at a gig ever again I WILL be pushing in front of him and not my polite self next time and there’s no chance I will be calming Tom down.

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life, mum

Miss Doormat

I am actually fed up of putting everyone else first now. I let my happiness ride on other people’s and I need to stop. Being selfless is fine when other people are selfless towards you too, but I do everything for everyone else and receive nothing back.

My partner, for example, I will always treat when I go out. I will bring him back a cake or a milkshake whenever I go to town. When we go for lunch he will tell me he’s hungry, but then when we get there he will then say ‘I’m not buying anything,’ and me, feeling guilty, ends up ordering for him anyway and taking on the bill despite him making over 5x my wage. He doesn’t really treat me though, or he does, but not very often. He will say something like ‘would you like a fizzy drink or something from the shops?’ and if I say yes, he will then proceed to ask me where my purse is.

Then my mum is the person I will literally do anything for. She points out something in a shop she really likes, I go back the next day and buy it for her to surprise her, irrelevant of the cost. She’s struggling for money, that’s okay, I’m the bank of Lauren. When we go out for lunch, don’t worry, it’s my treat. But yet this is what happens when I need a lift:
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And I know it looks like it’s over something really little, but in reality it’s not, because what people don’t realise (although my mum is fully aware,) is that I suffer from anxiety so bad that I can’t leave the house on my own most days.

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hair

It’s MY hair.

Why do people always feel the need to stick their two cents in? I made the decision to dye my hair blue after having pink hair for two years and boy do a lot of family members have stuff to say about it!
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Now I understand that everyone is opinionated deep down, but I hardly did anything that deserves so much controversy. I haven’t exactly murdered anyone, I just dyed my hair. I don’t judge people for making the choice to not dye their hair, or for dying their hair a ‘normal’ hair colour.

I’ve already had the ‘Wow, it’s a bit bright, isn’t it?’
Well no shit! I picked the colour, I knew it would be bright.

And after mentioning this to my mum she admitted that she’s also been approached about my hair. She was asked why the hell I would do such a thing to my hair and her reply was ‘because she wanted to.’ Why is my mum being questioned for my hair colour choice? What do you want her to say? That she’s sorry I made the choice to dye my hair and she’ll be a better parent next time and prevent it even though I’m 23 years old and adult enough to make my own decisions?

It just reminds me of the time I got my lip pierced. I was seventeen, wanted it since I was twelve and mum made me wait years to make sure it was really what I wanted and to finish school first. One family member called her a bad parent for allowing me to pierce my lip. Despite the fact that one of her children was a smoker that drunk every weekend and was even beginning to mess around with weed – and I didn’t do any of that. Hmmm…

People will always have opinions, but I think people need to learn to keep them to themselves sometimes. As long as I’m not hurting anyone, how does my choice of hair colour affect anyone?

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animals, cat, dogs

Replacements don’t work

When Mum decided to rehome our dog, Izzy, I was devastated. I was going through a grieving process, which I didn’t even realise was possible, considering she was rehomed, not dead, but I found out the fact of never seeing her again hurt just as much as the alternative. Mum couldn’t cope with Izzy. She didn’t like the ‘commitment’ of a dog. She didn’t like the fact she couldn’t go out and do as she pleased whenever she wanted anymore.

Mum’s way of apologising was by getting me a kitten to replace Izzy. I picked out a beautiful calico, which I named Bo. She cried the whole journey home and and was very shy, but she grew to trust us and we loved her.
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I still looked out for ‘the yellow van’ that I knew Izzy’s new owner owned, whenever I was out and I decided if I saw him I would confront him and take her back home with me. But I never saw him. Months went by and I learnt to cope without her. The replacement of Bo seemed to work and I forgot about Izzy, or so I thought…

It started at a car boot sale nearly three years later. Everyone was walking around, most of whom had dogs on leads walking next to them. I saw how happy they were and what I was missing out on. I looked down at my own empty hand and felt lost. From then on, I could feel tears prick my eyes every time I walked past a dog. I sunk into grief, would cry all the time. It was like there was a space in my heart needing to be filled.

Today, I still don’t have a dog. I still have that missing piece. But I have learnt a valuable lesson. You can’t just replace something you love.

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mum

Mum’s Biopsy

Mum is currently on her way to the hospital right now for a biopsy, due to the fact she keeps bleeding and they’ve found the lining of her womb to be too thick. They are going to check for any abnormalities and also for cancer.

She seems to think that she’s been given a death sentence already. She’s already told me that she would want me to live in Nan’s old house (my nan died 7 years back, but the house is still in the family, being rented out,) spoken to my sister about living arrangements, as she’s only 11 – She decided that she’d want to live with me and see her dad weekends, and Mum made me promise that if anything happens to her, to go on and live a full, happy life without her. She has also decided the fact that her friends are giving her presents and sending her sweet texts is a bad omen. I’m now rethinking the fact that I have bought her presents for her bravery for when she gets home.

I now have a long wait, as she and a few other women have been given the same time slot and whoever arrives first gets to have their procedure first, so she could go in straight away, or she could be waiting for an hour. The not knowing is the worst part. I’ve messaged her to let me know when it’s her time, but she hasn’t replied yet, so either hasn’t checked her phone or hasn’t got any signal.

The worst part is that I’m actually terrified. I’m sat here having panic attack after panic attack and crying, even though it’s pretty much a routine procedure. I know she’ll be home in a couple of hours, but it’s all so surreal and I can’t imagine ever having to face the prospect of losing my mum.

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life, Uncategorized

Sleepless Hotel

On the 29th of November, a friend and I spent the night in a hotel in Bath after going to a poetry event. It was meant to be a lovely evening – dinner together, poetry and then gossiping before going to sleep. The day started off amazing, other than the bitter wind burning our fingers as we tried deciphering the sat nav on my phone, but it all went downhill once we settled down for the night in the hotel. After discovering that we share the same favourite film (The Lion King,) we decided to put it on and have a little sing along. We were both laughing and singing along, when we heard a load of banging from the hallway. Two drunk people staggering to their room. All we could hear was the lady shouting ‘lock the door. Lock the door’ and within seconds we were listening to what could only be described as an amateur porno. I have never heard a lady moaning so loud in all of my life and I don’t mean as she orgasmed, I mean from start to finish! Fake, disgusting moans. To top it all off, it started just as Mufasa dies (spoiler there if you haven’t seen the film, sorry!) which makes me cry every single time and they totally ruined it for me. There was loads of banging happening at the same time too, like they were banging against walls, the floor, whatever, you name it. We had to pause the film so many times that half an hour later, we were still at the same scene. And then it finally stopped and went quiet. For five minutes. And then it started up AGAIN! A woman moaning as loud as possible, the guy swearing constantly. I didn’t know whether to barge into their room and punch their lights out or break down and cry with frustration. It was nearly midnight at this point and I had to get up for uni the next morning. They totally were wrecking my night and these vile people had no respect for anyone else. We tried phoning reception but we couldn’t get through, so instead we called out for them to shut up, which helped the situation quieten down for all of two seconds. They didn’t know who was in the room next to them, how did they know that there weren’t little children in our room? Little children who had to listen to them? How would a parent have explained that to their children? The only other excuse I can think of is that someone is being murdered and that answer is no better to tell a little child. We finally managed to fall asleep and when I woke up my friend was sat in bed on her laptop. “Why are you up so early?” Turned out she’d woken up them having sex AGAIN at 4am. I feel nothing but hate towards these vile people. They wrecked my favourite movie, kept up awake and had no respect for anyone else. So selfish. I had hoped that when we left our room that morning that we’d bump into them as we left, so we could give them a piece of our minds, but no such luck. I hope they both feel ashamed of themselves and I would call the lady a whore, but that name is too good for her!

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spider, Uncategorized

All because of a spider.

So a spider was found in my aunt’s garden and I wanted to know what type it was as it was much bigger than any I’d seen before. I put the picture into a craft group, which is known for allowing non craft related posts as long as they’re not offensive or networking in any way. My post got deleted, but it definitely wasn’t put there to offend anyone and for some reason I don’t think it’s something that would get me any sales. When I confronted about my post being deleted I got the reply that there are many people with phobias of spiders, well guess what? me too! but it’s still not exactly offensive. If phobias are the case then the group should be shut down, because at the end of the day there are so many phobias in this world that there is nothing you can post – I make things out of paper and I know that there are people with phobias of paper, especially the feel of it, so I guess that my business should be shut down! Ridiculous.

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