These Ones. Yes, they do hurt - thanks for asking.
One upon a time I used to write about fun things to do in Aberystwyth, the highlights of which included: getting covered in flour then managing to burn the bloody bread I'd been making, visiting Spar late at night... and er... no, that really is about it. If you go do be sure to visit the Camera Obscura - the largest in the world; sadly it overlooks Aberystwyth so there's nothing to see, apart from decaying Victorian architecture and students puking.
Then I moved (temporarily) to South Wales, to embrace a form of civilisation where public transport doesn't involve donkeys, carts, or the investment of a great deal of time and energy weeping. You'd think I'd be happier, more outgoing... full of joie de vivre, no end of interesting pleasures to throw myself into.
This is not the case. I still live in a stupid place, but as I said the saving grace is the regular trains out.
As for fun things to do- almost every Tuesday I allow myself to associate with 'Creepy Man', 'Scary Woman with the Shark Eyes', occasionally 'Stripey Man', 'Snooty Man' and 'Nice Guy' who goes out with 'Curly Haired Girl'. I have no idea of their names.
Yes, my nicknames suck, but there's no time to think of better ones as I try to avoid stepping on toes, twisting in the wrong direction, or falling out of time; also, in the case of 'Creepy Man' I desperately try to avoid eye contact (or any kind of contact). I salsa. That's what I'm trying to say. Step one, two, three... forward one, two three... collapse in a dishevelled heap and eat the free olives, two, three.
Salsa annoys me: it isn't helping me lose any weight (see free olives as mentioned above) and that was the intital impetus for going. There's also a distinct lack of sleek latin types that I'd hoped to be schmoozed by - though it is Cardiff after all: home of the short, round and sweaty. Mostly it annoys me because I'm no good. In fact not only can I not dance, I probably shouldn't even attempting rhythm, due to a dangerously placed balcony and my own inability to walk without tripping. I'm persevering though, albeit with a bitter commitment commonly known as sheer stubborn idiocy. All because I'm determined that some swan-like transformation will surely allow me to heap scorn on the 'Scary Woman', with her strange black irises and snotty comments of "can you do this one, hmmm?"
I will show them all!
Anyway, there you have it: a fun thing, one that is driving me absolutely bloody crackers.
- Goldfrapp - Yes, Sir I Can Boogie - The b-side to Twist; a live, low key, synth-enthusing, throbbing little cover.
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