SURFER NORTH

One for the books, dear readers.

Horrible exam this morning, but it's over, at least.

I got a tip off yesterday from the nice clerk at Spillers (who I think is OwnerNick's daugther) that there was a show happening at UWIC arts college. Following in the vicious cashburn of the morning's academic pursuits, I called up pal Benny, picked up some tickets and went on the merry way. After chomping delicious baguettes at an old people's joints with unnervingly low tables (where we tried to think of a viable alternative to fanatical Christian HellHouses - look them up if you're unfamiliar. Terrifying) we made out way over to the show. We were out on the patio for the first three acts. Alex Dingley and Fredrick Stanley Star had been recommended. The former was a shambolic acoustic / toy keyboard set of guy-yell / girl-sing tunes - enjoyed - while the latter was what would go down if Grizzly Bear were Welsh and had a lower budget for equitment. Good time, good time.

Once Benny disappeared, I stuck around for the next couple electric acts, but the poor acoustics and strange scene (I think everyone else was a UWIC art student. I felt underdressed and overgroomed.) drove me back to my place.

It's all cool. I've got Bleak House to enjoy (some dude exploded!) and I'm home in a week.

Also, I heard Green Day's 21st Century Breakdown in a store a few days back. I am listening to Insomniac right now and thinking of ways to restrict Billie Joe Armstrong's access to C-Span.

Love and...more love.

What does a scanner see?

Ah, what a nice agreeable week of Wales. One exam (the more difficult one) down. Apart from finally easing my way into the nuances of clubbing with Declan and the lads (hint: one of my "nuanes" is a loss of all shame! Yeah!) I've also had some extreme nighttime adventures with James, featuring medics, sexual harassment leprechauns, and the worst goddam Kate Bush karaoke in the history of Kate Bush.

This afternoon and evening was simialrly cool. Hung out by the Bay with Benny, Tish and friends on what may have been the nicest day I've seen since I've been here. Great weather, great people, and badass Indian eats.

Also been reading Bleak House by Charles Dickens. That dude flamed on the upper crust like Ian MacKaye. Totally badass.

Oh, and Jason Sprung is on Cracked.com.

http://www.cracked.com/video_17411_no-homo-get-out-gay-free-card.html

Weird.

clubs revisited

Since I've been over here in Wales, I've talked a whole lot of shit about clubs and how much I dislike them, their loudness, their dankness, and their general suckness.

I stand corrected. I have officially had a thoroughly enjoyable night of clubbing.

Let this be a glimmer of hope to cranky bastards everywhere.

Oh, and I've got an exam tomorrow. Oops.

clearly no formula

There are days.

And there are Days.

And there are days when semi-serious attempts to study for my fandom exam turn into repeated listenings to Wild Honey, organic lunches and the spontaneous writing of pop songs.

I'm okay with those days.

bangers, mash, and and weather related conversations

The gray skies have returned. This is normal.

Tailsliding into the final weeks of my UK like I never quite could on my neon-orange 10-speed back in the day (but damn, I loved those gear shifts). Exam time in Connworld has historically been a stressful, hair-pulling experience for me, with hours spent in the boxy Mac basement consuming only small portions of sustainence with my steady intake of caffeine and nicotine. Cardiff's a different tune, at least for this fortunate son. 3 assessments spread out evenly over a month leaves me with plenty of time to rest my laurels and enjoy the fleeting sunshine between small, manageable sprints of typing.

It not thrilling 24 hours a day. Mostly, it's just strange and new, with all the ups and downs.

Much love.