Sinister: Sunday's gig (not a very interesting title, huh?)

[Acrylica]

Only my second posting this; I'm a great deal more prolific on the Pulp
list, and I wrote this for it, but now my fingers are so tired that I
thought I'd be lazy and put a copy on here too. So, if you're on Lipgloss
just delete this!
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Hello little mice.
Yesterday I went to the B&S gig - it was both one of the best and the worst
days of my life. And here's why:
GOOD VERSION: Had a nice hotel room; saw some real live trams; made meself
a new lipstick by putting Lipcote on top of my new purple glitter gel;
backcombed hair and it went nice and big; tiara didn't fall off once; hotel
near to venue; someone who looked like they should be in Suede next to me
(I didn't have the courage to ask, but he was more like an amalgamation of
all the members); lovely venue and stage setup (like a big "E" - as in the
letter - with people all around - like how alveoli have a greater surface
area 'cos they're folded - so more people could see) and a brilliant gig. I
had surely the best place there - I was at the very front, just in front of
Stevie (unfortunately someone else nicked off with the setlist when I was
reaching for it). The band were terrific (after a bit of trouble with
'bel's cello - "och, it just dunt sound right!", "that cello needs a
doctor!", "no, that cello needs a priest!"), various members pointing at my
big hair before they started; lovely atmosphere; no security guards or
barriers, so I was just leaning on the stage; no cramped conditions - all
very nice. Normally u fight to get to the front, but this was so...
relaxed. U could actually move your arms around, and it was nice and cool
in the hall. All in all, a brilliant gig, except for...

BAD VERSION: Got coach down, ate chicken tikka sandwiches and chocolate
orange - as a consequence felt very sick; got to hotel, tired but still
alive; left Bob the Tamagotchi in hotel room and forgot to feed him (when I
got back he'd pooped everywhere!); feeling a little sicky, vision a little
blurred; rain; standing around for ages at gig (and I was wearing my heavy
platforms and the three pairs of socks I need to keep them on!), feeling a
little queasy now, but luckily it's not too hot, and not at all cramped;
stomach feels like it's digesting itself; feeling positively sick; in "Like
Dylan..." begin to get a cold sweat on the back of my neck; the boyfriend
asks do I want to get out? but I can't cos I've been looking forward to it
for so long; big black blobs in front of eyes, band dissappear; can't hear
them and I don't remember the next few minutes, but apparently I fell and
cracked my head on the monitor (a nice bruise is now forming!); I come
around and can't understand why he looks concerned, 'cos I just thought I'd
closed my eyes for a second, but Suedebloke looks worried too; reassure
boyfriend I'm fine; getting hot and then cold; having visions of throwing
up on Stevies' shoes which I'd just been admiring a moment before, so I
stick my head between two monitors and decide to be sick there; still
haven't been sick, but everything's going black again; black out again, but
when I come around again (and now this is the really trippy bit, and I
swear to god I hadn't taken anything or even drunk anything beforehand!)
there's flowers all over the stage, and on their clothes, following the
guitars; after missing most of the next two songs, I feel much better; get
back to hotel and sit with head in sink for half an hour, occasionely
drooling or spitting bile. Not too good, huh?

A special sorry goes out to Karl off this here list; he recognised me at
the end of the gig (I think it was the red hair that did it!) and came over
to introduce himself. I could still see flowers, and as far as I can
remember this is how our converstation went (brackets indicate my slow and
painful thought processes):
K: Acrylica?
Me: Ug? (there's a man. Who's he? I think I've lost my brain)
K: Karl
Me: Pardon? (Who's Paul?)
K: Karl
Me: Oh hello! (I'm going to vomit on him, I know I'm going to vomit on him)
K: I saw u but didn't know if it was u, cos I was over there, are u OK?
Me: Noo, I'm a bit ill actually (why's he swirling about and getting bigger
and smaller?)
K: Oh, too much to drink, heh?
Me: No, no I haven't had any, it was the coach (urgh... I'm gonna retch on
him)
And then I don't remember much else, just pointing at his leather coat and
then trying to climb down the big stone stairs in my heavy platforms.
So, Karl... I'm sorry if I wasn't exactly with it, but u seemed lovely!

Lots of love and (bleurghh!) iguanas... Acrylica
sallydoll at lineone.net
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