"If everything could ever feel this real forever..."

So here, as promised, is me and Dave. There is so much about this picture that makes me happy. Apart from the fact that I'm stood next to Dave Grohl, and the fact that he used to be in Nirvana, but he actually has his arm around me in a real 'giving me a hug' way. He gave me a big old squeeze if I remember rightly. He does look a little peeved though which is slightly upsetting but I refuse to dwell on that bit. My cheesy grin more than makes up for it. Fuck knows who the joker is behind me...

I can't believe I have photographic imagery of the split second I met Dave Grohl.

This picture has made me realise why I like my job so much. I've been going through a weird time of it at late and really not had the same enthusiasm as I used to have. For those who don't know - I'm a press officer for an independent music PR company. I look after the national press for bands such as Million Dead, Reuben, Hundred Reasons and The Answer. (Jimmy Chamberlin, Placebo and Gomez in the past) I worked fucking hard to get it too and it never occurred to me that one day I might grow tired of it. It used to be the only thing I had really in my life. I don't mean that as tragically as it sounds but when I was single my job/career was the most important thing in my life. That's changed now. Evan is the most important thing in my life and that priority shift floored me for a while. Coupled with a few hassles over the past few months - my job has slipped down the list of things I really like.

However, regardless of that I have been lucky enough to go to Glastonbury, Download, Guilfest and countless gigs for free. I get to go to aftershow parties and exclusive gigs. I've been to the NME Awards, Mercury Music Awards, Q Awards and of course the Kerrang Awards. Surprisingly its actually difficult to not get blase about all of it, to not feel jaded and unfussed. But when faced with a photo like that, knowing that that's me, and that's me with Dave Grohl, and I got myself into a position where I can have the opportunity to meet Dave Grohl. Well, I feel very chuffed with my little self this morning.

I am currently doing my very best to get press for Tommy Lee's solo project.

Hahahahahaahahahahahahaahahahahaha today is a good day.

"And there's panic on the streets of Carlisle, Dublin, Dundee, Humberside..."

I've never smelt a smell like it! I work off Portobello Road in Notting Hill; home to the one of the world's most famous carnivals. I'm sure the festivities are a wonderful celebration of London's diversity, expansive cultural heritages and show of unity in the face of terrorism. However, the amount of horsehit, piles of vomit, left over greasy take-away food, stale beer and other unidentifiable left-overs littering my walk to work was really really grim - it kinda looked like someone had blown up the place.
I've only ever been to the carnival once. It was alright. I was 17 and not very used to large crowds of revellers and found it all a bit daunting and scary. Also I'm not the biggest fan of Reggae which was all I could hear on the big stereos so thought it was kinda shit. Plus it just so happens the Carnival falls on the same weekend as Reading Festival and, well quite frankly, that wins every year.

Speaking of which, I am the walking wounded today. Like a soldier returning from the frontline of ROCK! I'm sunburnt (with big white panda eyes from my sunglasses) I have a blistered bottom lip, a dry scabby nose, an ulcer on the side of my tongue and two bruises on either side of my hips. But I can safely say that it was perhaps my weekend of the year so far - and most certainly the best Reading I've ever had. I won't bore you with all the details of who I saw, Evan explains it a lot better than I could here and pretty much what he did I did too so read his blog. I will say this though:

IT ROCKED!!!!

What I like most about festivals, generally is the freedom, the overwhelming sense of freedom. The ability to do anything you like, whenever you like, safe with the knowledge that it won't matter a shit for another couple of days. This manifests itself in many ways. Like the fact that you can drink litres of vodka (or in Evan and Sean's case Carling) act like a complete arse, roll around on the floor, dance like a twat and know full well that everyone else is/will be doing the same and won't even notice. You can wear whatever the fuck you like and get away with it. Although I do have an issue with a) people who wear festival hats. You know who you are. b) all the industry wankers who have bought their 'rock outfits' purely for Reading and they think by going to Reading satisfies the rock tip their desperately trying to get because its fashionable. And c) all the teenage girls wearing little mini-skirts and stripey tights trying to get laid for the weekend.
Well actually I don't mind the latter so much - we've all been there.

Anyway - normal life gets put on hold for the duration of the weekend. You don't worry about money, the amount you smoke, the amount you drink, the amount you take, what you eat, who sees you, what you look like (exclude my panda eyes here - there are limits), the fact that you don't sleep, and generally feel like crap. The most said phrase to questions such as "Is it too early for a beer?" is: "Fuck it - it's Reading" and its that mindset, that reckless abandon of normal life restraints and limits vanish, for 3 wickedly wonderful days.

And that rules.

Anyway, enough of that hippy shit - did I mention I met Dave Grohl? Cheesy picture coming soon.

"He lines them up and then knocks them down..."

Don't you really just fucking hate it when you're trying so hard to sort something out but you have to wait on various other people getting back to you before its sorted and the fucking wankers aren't getting back to you and you're leaving messages and your heart is racing because sorting it out directly relates to other areas/people in your life who are relying on you to sort this thing out but you can't because of other fucking wankers.
GGGGGGGGRRRRRRRRRRR

That's what today is all about for me. GODDAM mother fuckers ringing me every ten minutes and I still haven't sorted it out because the person I need to hear from isn't getting back to me. Its driving me absolutely crazy. Today, and the next 4 days are usually my favourite days of the year and it's being marred by one person in particular - who I can't name - but let it be known I'M ANGRY AT THEM!!!!!

*exhale*

When I return from Reading - my flatmate Jenny would have moved the majority of her stuff out of our flat :0( Words can't express how sad I feel about that. She's moving into her sister's flat (her sister is moving in with her boyfriend and letting Jenny move in) and I am homeless for 8 weeks until me and Evan move in together - a place of our own. AWWWWWWW! The 8 weeks will consist of me kipping at Evan's for a bit before house sitting for a mate in the beautiful West Hampstead and then kipping at Evan's again for a couple of days before we both move in to OUR own place. Its gonna be a tough few months but a couple of months that will save me money and allow me the time to live on my own for a bit before a lifetime of domestic bless with Evan begins.

Weird huh? This time last year I had been single for 4 and a half years pretty much. I had given up on finding anyone and thought I was to join the ranks of the likes of Morrissey and spend eternity on me todd. Crooning to myself about love lost and found and lost again. About couples kissing on the tube and hating them, and about those endless lonely nights/weekends of boredom. I may even have fashioned a quiff and only conversed by fax.

Hmmm

Just as I thought - everyone leaves you waiting and waiting and then right at the last minute it all gets sorted. I feel like I can breathe again now.

WOOOHOOOO Let the games begin!!!!

Bite my lip and close my eyes...take me away to paradise...

I've been a bit out of blogging sorts of late - well actually a good few months. Just been struggling to get inspiration. Sorry to those who may have been missing my nonesensical, often offensive mumblings (Evan, Paul I think you're the only ones) but I'm now making a conserted effort to detail my life over the internet once again. Inspired or not. So here I go:

I last left you in June - whinging about being a smoker again and having the sniffles. I still am smoking (surprise surprise - I blame Evan) and bizarrely I am still very sniffly. Every morning I sneeze for about half an hour, making my head feel like its gonna explode and my nose all red from blowing it a dozen times. Its a beautiful sight I must say. But I suppose I was given the name Chronic for a reason.

But since my last blog my life has been rather full and hectic not to mention expensive. I've attended 3 weddings, 2 hen weekends and 4 music festivals. I've turned another year older (which I celebrated at Alton Towers where I vomited) dealt with my Dad being in hospital (he's out now and fine) had my own clean bill of health from the doctors (hurrah) and danced alone on a stage to Guns n' Roses's Paradise City (ahem). I've discovered that I like New Model Army and The Misfits - both of which I'm seeing in the next few months; that I've successfully avoided the 'can't cook for shit' gene from my Mum; and that over the last few years I have not given as much time to my friends as I should have done - although thats getting too deep for a Wednesday afternoon. I've avoided bombs, changed my hair colour, lost weight, got into cricket and lost eleven weeks of my life by obsessively viewing of a bunch of complete and utter wanking cock sockets yell at each other.

This weekend is Reading Festival. GET IN. It's preceded by the Kerrang! Awards. I have historically made a complete tit out of myself at the Kerrang! Awards each and every time I've been. I just get carried away - its such a fun night. Last year I literally (and I mean literally) ran into Billie Joe Armstrong (on purpose you understand) and dribbled out some kind of praise and excitedly hurried over to my friend to say: "Fuck me now - I've just met Billie Joe" right in front of his girlfriend who he had only just got back with after a small, but 'well-needed' break.
I tripped over my newly purchased slutty black heels as the MC5 cool-ly sauntered by and told a hole bunch people that the awards were fixed - I was annoyed the band I work with, Reuben, didn't win.

So yeah - that's tomorrow night - with the added three days of debauchary to follow it.

What a way to end the summer.