At last: some actual news
Yes, you read it right. Actual news. Here we go.
I've been bullshitting about nothing happening. There has been stuff happening. That stuff mainly revolves around my body going absolutely nutso, because I'm pregnant. Again - yes, you read that right. I am 14 weeks today. So there you are.
The early days were horrific and passed in a blur of extreme nausea. Regular readers will know I am averse to vomiting, so I haven't actually been physically sick at any point. Which has been a big relief. This was mainly down to a steady diet of digestive biscuits.
I'm not going to go all
STFU Parents if I can help it. Not yet, anyway. I'm the person I always was, but with a slightly firmer pot belly, as flab turns to baby. I think I'll leave this post on that charming image, and save my other updates for later this week.
Working for the man
Last week was a bit of a mess. At work, a modest pay rise was followed less than 24 hours later by some rug-pulling news, namely that I was to be moved from one team to another to work under a manager that I cannot stand. It wasn't the best feeling and I must admit to being petulantly angry and faintly upset at the whole thing at the time.
This week, I'm over it. The weekend had enough in it for me to remember what my real priorities are: home life, friends. [Y'know.
That stuff.] So, equilibrium has returned and I'm ready for what this week is going to chuck at me.
I love a band in uniform
Because I have nothing much to report in my life at present, I thought I'd chuck in a random blog post that's not really about anything just for amusement and to keep my mind and keyboard active.
I
love it when a band wear matching outfits. I really do. I don't know why this should be the case...
My first ever band crush when I was a kid was
The Monkees. I dug them primarily for the burgundy shirts with the buttons on. You know the ones. Now, I love late-period Monkees as much as anyone with a bent for the psychedelic does, but the early days is a pinnacle for me. Some of the greatest pop music ever performed in matching shirts and jeans.
Yes.
In the mid-90s, I fell in love with
The Make Up. They were an insanely stylish bunch, and vastly talented, with the genius Ian Svenonious (a man once described as part PG Tips chimp, part James Brown) at the helm. They liked to wear fitted suits with nehru collars in block colours like grey, canary yellow or white, or satin shirts and ties, as pictured.
In the mid-late 90s I became briefly obsessed with
Dexy's Midnight Runners in their bobble hats/donkey jackets phase. This was maybe as much to do with the songs as the look. [I didn't enjoy the raggle-taggle gypsy dungarees look from Too-Rye-Aye quite as much, though.]
I still appreciate a band who make a bit of an effort with the way they dress, like
MGMT.
However, having said all of the above about uniforms and matching up, some of the best bands and artists are unreconstructed scruffs. I'm thinking, of course, of the peerless
Kim Deal, who makes dressing like a mechanic look downright wonderful, which is why I've been straining to emulate her for almost half my adult life. 'Making a bit of an effort', which is code for "for god's sake, can you ditch the thrift store t-shirts for once in your life?" is monumentally hard work for me. I've never got the dressing like a grown-up thing right.
This post went nowhere, eh. Never mind.
What does March bring? A 40th birthday party, a trip to Devon, the final show in the Horne Section run, and last but not least, the world premiere of
Piccard in Space. it's gonna be a good month, I can feel it in me waters.
Labels: non-sequiteurs
