In recent months I’ve taken comfort from just relaxing in my living room, listening to music. J’s brother and his fiancé got me a brilliant little Bluetooth speaker for my birthday back in March and it’s absolutely brilliant. It’s called a BluCube and produces one hell of a sound for its size. It’s rechargeable (yay for no disposable batteries) and super easy to use. No one has paid me or given me nice things to say that, it is entirely my own opinion.
Today J is sorting his Magic the Gathering cards at the dining table and we are listening to the new Biffy Clyro album, Ellipsis. I love Biffy Clyro more than I can explain without looking like a creepy fanatic. They have been my absolute, very favourite since I was 13, I’m now 27. I’ve seen them 23 times, met them several times and even bunked off school for a week in 2005 to see them play King Tut’s wah wah hut (a small venue in Glasgow) four nights in a row. My poor Dad used to drive my sister and I to Glasgow and back which is a good 6 hours driving and a few hours waiting around while we get squashed by sweaty, hairy drunk men screaming our heads off to songs such as “There’s No Such Thing as a Jaggy Snake”… And as far as he was concerned we were away to see a pop singer guy called Biffy. Sometimes it was just easier to let him believe that…
Anyway, Biffy are playing Bellahouston Park in Glasgow at the end of next month. I am hoping and praying that my body keeps it together for the gig. I am beyond excited. And because J is a romantic sod, we’re going to stay in the Marriott, which is where we first stayed when he made the effort to woo me and took me to see Taking Back Sunday, which was basically a dream come true for me. We just won’t talk about how I was full of the cold – I mean an absolute snot fest, a guy in the crowd gave me a Halls Soother – and couldn’t enjoy the bottle of champagne and strawberries in our room…
Basically, MON THE BIFFY and stuff.
The one joy of being mostly housebound is that I’m in the house during the day when all of our neighbours are out at work so when I’m stressed out and grumpy I can listen to something equally loud and angry but when I’m tired and needing to chill out, I can stick on some Fiona Apple and chill with the budgies in peace. Sometimes I listen to 90’s pop music because no one will ever get fed up of “Freak Me” by Another Level. But that’s our secret, okay…?
I don’t know why, but listening to music and drinking coffee doesn’t feel like such a waste of a day as sitting, watching crappy daytime TV. It’s cultured, or something.