Sinister: The wrong hand to be hol-ding

[Erica MacArthur]

Hey Kids,

I've decided to copy the format of David Moore's post All Tommorows Parties
letter because it was a vivid peep into a weekend of a thousand stories.

1. Football. Was I even watching? No, I was eating a sausage sandwich with
the kids and telling people the Venga boys were playing the swimming pool in
the evening to rescue us from this drone-rock hell-hole. But well done
anyway boys, I was there for congrats and to meet Stuart Murdoch, who was
ever-so polite even though he had blood all over his hands from his gushing
leg.

2. Bitching. I think they put something in the water, because even the most
lovely of the party were finding fault in just about anyone. Good fun, mind
you. Except if you're pointing out that I have big feet or a scary face,
which isn't one bit funny, espcially at 5am.

3. Glamour. I wore my sunglasses on the top of my head all weekend. Which
was nice. At some points they actually came over my eyes, but being
short-sighted at the best of times, they didn't stay there long. I think I
might have mildly insulted the Mister-cool singer from 'You will be known by
the trail of the dead' by insisting he couldn't see anything out of his and
why didn't he wear his on his head like me? Maybe you're allowed to wear
sunglasses indoors if you're a popstar. My diamonte hairslide also became
the look du jour for one Stevie Trousers, who should be a popstar.

4. Getting married in Mini Vegas. Yes I'm still wearing my ring-ding a ling.
Bowling with new found friends and getting a STRIKE. Paddling in the sea.
Singing in the same room as some man from the Boo Radleys with a guitar and
replying 'yes I know' to the statement 'ooh, you can sing'. Hand glued to
forehead in embarassment.

5. Fainting in the High Lammas. No, it wasn't an avant garde dance move,
that was me collapsing. The perfect excuse to not bother seeing any other
bands for the entire weekend. This sad, Stereolab were dazzlingly good. But
the boy who followed me around for fifteen minutes trying to persuade me to
play strip poker in his chalet was not good at all. Honestly, I was on the
verge of throwing up my hands and shouting 'shoo!'. If only I could dismiss
the boys just like Shania Twain in her 'don't impress me much video'. The
confusing thing about that video is that the lyrics don't correspond one
bit. For example: "So what do you think you're elvis or something' - cue
Arab on big black horse. Was Elvis ever an arab in one of his films?

6. Saying 'hey, that's my face!' to people reading papercuts, and 'hey,
those are my boys' to people looking at the 5-aside results.

7. The boy on the train on the way home with a nosebleed. We've been reading
the Beaux stratergem at school and we'd all scoffed at the idea that Archer
could attract a lady to his gallant ways by having a nose bleed in church,
but really, it worked for me. Poor lamb. I think it might have helped that
he looked like one of the new Red-haired Gucci models.

Erica
x


The House of Scarlet

http://www.chickpages.com/rants/golighty/index.html












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