Steel drums

So, my day was more or less surreal. I clambered out of bed with less trouble than usual – sleeping during the day is slowly bringing my ratio of waking hours to sleeping hours back to normal – and met purplerainbow at Central, along with Becca, who took the earlier train in order to buy sweets for Peter. I don’t understand this, either.

Hannah had already told me that part of the reason for today’s expedition was to visit WIMfest, which stands for Women’s International Music, and it does what it says on the tin whilst also being a gathering point for most of the Northwest’s gay and lesbian population. Hannah, bless her, had neglected to inform Becca of this. Unfortunately, before we could get down to the fest, we had several errands to run. I wanted to deposit some money (seventy quid of tuition money) and Becca wanted to buy glasses. Apparently Marks ‘n’ Sparks are selling glass tumblers for fifty pence each and Karen, in the time-honoured tradition of mothers everywhere, sent Becca to buy six of them. She, or possibly Hannah and I, managed to get lost during the buying of the glasses, but we managed to find ourselves again in time to get down to the Bluecoat.

The Bluecoat Chambers are next door to Quiggins, for reference – they’re more or less the arts centre for the city, and when we got there, we kept on running into Hannah’s teachers. Her gay DT teacher, for example, was doing the announcing for the bands that were playing, most of whom were local. The first one was called Positive Impact, and were bland and insipid and really rather blah. Typical bubblegum pop, but with none of the cheesy version of style the genre requires.

But the next band, who were more like a barbershop chorus and dressed in suits with red feather boas, were much more fun. They were called Handbag of Harmonies and were really rather good, singing with real enthusiasm with the aid of a genuinely talented soloist. They finished up with Don’t Stop Me Now (Queen, natch) which Becca squeed at. Her attachment to Queen continues unabated.

So, yes, that was fun. On our way out Hannah’s school librarian stopped us and asked us to fill out an evaluation. I filled out “Female” (as opposed to “Male” or “Other”, which made my inner liberal jump and squeal) and “16-25” and in the end, I ticked the “Gay/Lesbian” box. It was the first time I’d done that, and it was really rather liberating.

Back in the city again, we went to Quiggins, and when we got to Grin, I picked up a skirt. Now, I’d never have bought it. Of course I really liked it – it’s the one I always pick up, the handmade piece with denim and thick soft cotton patches, all cleverly designed with silhouettes of Che Guevara and Marilyn Monroe splashed all over it, black against pink and blue. I loved it, but couldn’t afford it. Becca and Hannah then informed me I’d just deposited seventy quid into my account. They cajoled and coaxed and downright annoyed me till I gave in. I find this strange, but it seems I have bought a skirt. It’s not worth thirty quid, but it’s a handmade piece, as I said, and it’s very pretty and feminine and it fits. I’ll probably wear it down to Oxford next week.

Cue food. We had sandwiches at Subway, went down to the new Bead Shop at Whitechapel, and following that, Becca decided she needed to get something to wear tonight (Nicola’s birthday thing – surprisingly, I was invited but I really didn’t want to go). This of course meant Hannah and I had to spend an inordinate amount of time in the changing-room at Next, waiting for her. We sat on the floor, falling asleep on each other’s shoulders, and quoted Shakespeare at each other:

“Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds…”

“…or bends with the remover to remove…”

I wish I was making this up, but I’m not. The last time we did this, we ended up singing Bohemian Rhapsody. I need my friends otherwise I really would go crazy.

Becca didn’t buy the top from Next, so we ended up going to H & M. I’ve always thought we seem to spend a lot of time there for a shop that is supposedly mainstream, and I’m aware of how elitist and snobbish that remark is. The changing-room queue there was incredibly long, so Hannah and I perched on the edge of a display and had something of a heart-to-heart in the middle of a busy shop.

We talked a lot, but reached the conclusion that we both have disastrous love-lives and we both need help. Hannah has a date for the Leavers’ Ball – me – and this will have to do for now. I’m not going to the sixth form ball. Definitely not. Better next year.

We found Becca eventually – she was actually buying something – and finally went back down to the Bluecoat Chambers to hear a band Hannah had rhapsodised about earlier. They were called SheBoom, and consisted of lots and lots of steel-drum players. This sounds ridiculous, and even I had my doubts when I saw them, as they were all dressed with rainbows in mind and fitted certain stereotypes, but when they started playing, I just stopped thinking. Hannah said later that when they stopped, you felt empty, and this is true – they were so loud, and the percussion rhythms so catchy and insidious, that you could feel them going through you and dominating your senses.

I think we were captivated, standing out there in the rain, and they played four pieces and we emerged out the other side as if we were waking up. It’s hard to describe. Hannah bought their CD, which I found amusing but not as much as I might have done. They were good.

After that, we didn’t do much more. We went to Virgin because I wanted to see Snow Patrol’s album (I think I’ll get Julie to copy it for me) and Becca wanted to not buy Forrest Gump on DVD, and Hannah and I discussed Buffy at length. I don’t know how clear I’ve made it (I’ve been updating very sporadically of late) but I’ve been watching, and really enjoying, all the Buffy episodes on Sky. Buffy punching Giles was something I enjoyed far too much.

We bid each other goodbye eventually at Central. A good day, overall, and it also gave rise to a new idea. I’m planning to have some sort of party on Friday night – nothing’s certain yet, and I need to run this past my parents – but I’m tentatively putting the idea forth. Are we all free? I had the list as me, Hannah, Becca, Emily, Clare, Colleen, Enid and possibly Emma Wood – descending on Friday night, eating junk, watching Velvet Goldmine and anything else anyone brings, camping out in my room overnight and departing into the cold grey dawn on Saturday, or something along those lines. Any thoughts? Comment or forever hold thy peace.

When I got back, I ambled into the study, gave Pedar the file I’d got him and showed him everything else I’d bought, just because I generally do. Weirdly, he really liked the skirt. I found that surreal. The “O” key has fallen off his keyboard, which is making him very stressed.

And then I rang amchau, which was definitely surreal. We discussed fandom and pink carnations and boonie hats, and eventually concluded that this entire day has been a figment of my imagination (although, looking over it, there is evidence for that idea). Pedar was listening to my end in the conversation when I was sitting in the library, and I’m pretty sure he was trying not to laugh.

I also finished The Da Vinci Code. Good day.