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Enfieldean

dean_r


There's a storm in my teacup!

Well, in my dollar store mug.


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Turncoat
Nitch!
dean_r
Yesterday I woke up expecting to go to work in the afternoon, come home and watch a film called Hard Candy, which people are raving about in our store.

Instead, just as I am meant to go in to work, I find out Autumn had been sent 8 tickets for the Dave Matthews Band/Rolling Stones concert at Qwest Field for that evening. Work was reorganised somewhat so that I could leave earlier and I ended up traveling into Seattle and watching two breathtaking performances by bands that I never thought I'd get near. I mean, I've never been an avid music fan, I hear songs and like them but don't get obsessed with bands that often. So seeing a band and getting to link a bunch of songs you liked together and realise this band created them all, and watch the people who take these songs to heart and jump around in a delusional state... it feels like you're not just watching a show where people sing and dance and play instruments, but you're watching 50,000 people around you getting swept up in the same motion, all in a euphoric state, wanting the show to go on and on.

I wish I'd understood more about music when my sister tried to get me to go to Glastonbury when she could barely drive and I didn't know anything past the mediocre music my family played. At that age, I didn't see what the fuss was all about. I missed out there.

It is strange, but this is what this area has brought into my life. Unpredictably wonderful memories that blindside you, just when the rigmarole of a monotonous life was trying to sink into my system. I can't even describe the evening, I was still dumbfounded it was happening and so can't really comprehend that it even happened. It was one strange dream, perhaps.

Time to leave for work. I've got three minutes to get changed unless I want to go in wearing plaid lavender and white pyjama bottoms with teddy bears on them. Personally, I don't. I want to wear another layer over these pyjama bottoms. My goodness, it feels cold outside today.


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I've seen the terrible sides of that mob mentality from events in British soccer. The preconception was that our supporters were thugs, and as a resulted they were treated (as a mass group) as thugs, and so became thugs, because their actions were getting treated with such meticulously intense reactions and so simply throwing things around stopped the atmosphere from feeling like something bad could start.

Of course, that's not a patch on the Nazis, but those Nazis, they knew how to get themselves remembered for one reason or another. Tsk, that Hitler. Why couldn't he have grown up and become an architect?

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