To whom it may concern

Down in London town, I’m dancing by myself

Hi Friends!

Well, it’s all come to pass.

We have a sparkling, new, beautiful shower, and I managed to successfully attend a concert for the first time whilst flying solo.

Kaiser Chiefs are top-notch groovemeisters, so I pretty much just showed up, danced like a mad woman for an hour and a half, and then hit the road.

Oh my god, I can't believe it.

(The four glasses of wine I consumed before heading downtown may have had something to do with how easy the whole thing seemed. I’m normally a two-glass max kind of gal, so take this as you will.)

The one thing I will say was that I was a little bummed out about the fact that they hardly played any of their new material (or really anything from their catalogue post-2008.)

I've never been this far away from home.

They have so many fab songs other that those featured on Yours Truly – Angry Mob and I had been eager for the chance to hear them live.

For instance, I was gutted that they didn’t play Man on Mars, a tune that I have been pretty much listening to on repeat for the last two weeks. Seriously, it’s the first thing that finally managed to knock The Decembrist’s Calamity Song off of my top jam list.

Ch-ch-check it:

Ricky Wilson told the audience that Vancouver was their last stop on their tour, so they were probably pretty exhausted and burnt out and didn’t want to take on anything too taxing.

But overall, I must say I had a great time period, and there is always something to be said about going to a concert where you (and every other person in attendance) knows every lyric to every song that is played.

I’d give it a solid 8 out of 10 cats.

Ju-on girl dancing her heart out!

On my way home, sitting on the metro, I was trying to concentrate on anything other than the dull ringing in my ears, when a very young man sat down next to me.

The fellow was just a little too eager to strike up a conversation, so my spidey senses immediately started tingling.

Because I am a crazy weirdo, I did what I am often do in awkward situations – make them even more awkward (this time by speaking in a really terrible accent.)

This is hilarious to me, but probably insanely disconcerting to the other parties involved.

If I could muster up the appropriate amount of compunction I would, but then I always ask myself, what’s life without a little flare? A little intrigue?

So, egging myself on, I sometimes try out mein deutsche, and other times moya ruski.

This time I was from jolly old England.

Bah.

[adjusts monocle.]

Unfortunately, the dude was totally undeterred.

Even after I told him I was seven years older than him, he still asked me out.

Youth these days, I tell ya.

Either deliver my paper on time or get off my lawn!

I will give him props for gumption and guts, but needless to say, I will not be seeing him again.

(Until my next late night train ride, goodness knows.)

The next morning, I was moving a little slower than usual, due to the after effects of my solo dance party, finishing the bathroom, and the eleven kilometre run Mr. M and I completed during the previous day’s afternoon.

I figured the best thing to cure my Sunday sluggishness, was homemade crepes with fresh fruit, nutella, walnuts, whipped cream, and tea, devoured on our porch, basking in the warmth of the (long lost, and now finally found) sun’s rays.

Yum.

Edit: for one bloody day at least! It just makes me want to yell out: Come on Biscuit you can do it!!!

Erm.

I mean spring!

Come on spring, you can do it!

But at the time, it was, for lack of a more poetic descriptor, absolute bliss.

Bliss!

Then, M and I tore about our place, vacuuming like a vacuuming things, dusting, washing, scrubbing – wiping away all the dust that had accumulated over the course of our reno, encrusted in our corners and nestled in all the often missed nooks and crannies.

Seriously, nothing is as good as clean feels.

A friend of mine remarked, after reading my post from last Friday, that I would probably pick up a ton more traffic to my blog if I posted photos of myself doing mad cleaning in my underwear.

I’m not going to lie – I briefly considered this as I tore about our place, but in the end I decided it just wasn’t worth it.

That, like my English accent, should not be encouraged.

Not without copious amounts of wine, anyway.

Isn’t that right, guvnah?

17 thoughts on “Down in London town, I’m dancing by myself

  1. Even though you just told me this story on the phone, this made me laugh and smile. Thank you :)
    (also, I love your writing, but I think you know that already ;)

  2. Re: bad accents. When we were in high school, my buddy and I used to adopt terrible accents and go out to eat. We would convince the wait staff that we were foreign-exchange students and we wanted to eat “real American food.” The poor saps would sneak us samples of all kinds of things along with whatever we ordered. So, I say your bad accent should be encouraged. You never know when you might be able to con someone into bringing your table a round of dessert or something. Get M to start practicing as well.

    1. I dig that high school style!

      Okay, you’ve convinced me. We’ll start training today (and it’s going to take a lot of work because M has pretty much the strangest ear for accents I’ve ever heard.)

      1. Make up a country for M to be from. That’s what Hollywood screenwriters did in the late 50s and 60s to avoid offending possible allies during the Cold War. Make him royalty, too. “You will have to excuse the prince … he can be, how do you say?–eccentric.”

    2. How strange that you can only reply to a comment three times!?

      Alright. M is officially arch duke of the kingdom of Eccentria! I more that qualify to be his lady :)

      How we just need to find a budding screenwriter to chronicle our life!

  3. Good on you for not letting being alone keep you from enjoying life! As for the accents, I have done that before! In fact my husband and I do it when we travel and are getting harassed by all the market stall holders…except we usually end up sounding like the Swedish Chef from the Muppets! :)

    1. Thanks! I’ve always liked going to movies/eating at restaurants by myself but this was my first concert.

      Also, you and your husband sound tops. Anything to get away from really pushy vendors!

      I do the accent thing a ton when I am stuck in airports during really long lay-overs or delays. You need to find ways to amuse yourself beyond the bad paperbacks and scented candles for sale!

  4. Hysterical! I’m so glad the shower reno is complete, yay! Makes it easier to relax in your space when it’s back to clean and normal. :)
    Your weekend sounds awesome – seriously. A solo night every now and then does a girl good. And I love that you busted out a British accent! Mmm…crepes and fruit – that’s how you do Sunday morning… I’ll be over at your house for the weekends! Hope this coming one is fantastic for you!

    1. Crepes post tough-mudder? I’ll need at least ten I’m thinking…

      And yes, the shower is totally fab. But we’ve unleashed a monster – we’re doing our floors next!!!

  5. I do fake accents, too!! First used it when I wanted to get into the backstage area of a huge concert with many, many bands and pretended I had just arrived from Ireland (I live in Germany) and was still getting used to driving “on the wrong side” and all.
    When I’m in a different city, I fake being American at Starbucks. Always works. (“I’ll have aaaaaa…. to-go-no-whipped-cream-non-fat-white-café-mocca.” Totally makes me American.

    Germans say:
    “Can I please have a White Café Mocca.”
    “Which size?”
    “Medium”
    “Grande?”
    “Is that medium?”
    “Yes”
    “Okay, then medium”
    “Grande”
    “Yeah, that”
    “Whipped cream?”
    “Yes… or no… well, a little. Can you put sprinkles on it?”
    “You find sprinkles over there. To go or for here?”
    “I think… honey, do you want to stay or take it away?…
    (honey responds something…)
    … put it in a mug and if we leave before I finish, can you pour it into a paper cup for me?”
    “Sure… (yells to the barista) one for-here-little-whipped-cream-white-café-mocca.”
    :-)

    1. Haha, YES! I love it! I always do accents when I have to spend hours in airports on layovers. It totally crack me up but I’m sure people think I’m bloody bonkers.

      I’ll think of you the next time I order a white cafe mocha!

      1. Please do! And try ordering it “German style”. It’s kinda funny to watch the barista get all annoyed with the stupid questions.

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