I haven’t posted anything for a while. This, for those of you who are tired of your Facebook feed being filled with them, is surely good news. I’m currently listening to music I’ve never heard before, by bands which are sure to become a favourite. Soundwave 2012 is only a couple of months away; memories of the previous iteration are strong, and my excitement is beginning to approach the fevered madness which has led crazed individuals to run off to an asylum and write a dictionary.
I’m searching for Anaïs Nin novels (those of you who know your contemporary authors should begin silently judging now); and listening to French shoegazer metal, which I’m more than eager to finally buy. My bank account, resplendent in its nascent income stream, is about to lose a little of its lustre. My parents, when they either read this or have it relayed by an inquisitive aunt (“It is no use telling me there are bad aunts and good aunts. At the core, they are all alike. Sooner or later, out pops the cloven hoof.”) will berate me until I’m slowly driven insane.
On that point, my bank balance is already wounded from purchasing plane tickets to see Rodger Water’s “The Wall” in concert. While I’m not expecting anything approaching the monolithically famous spectacle of the original concert that was performed long-before-I-was-born, I’m looking forward to it nonetheless. If you’re in Brisbane at the start of February, you should consider coming along to it too.
And on that point as well, if you’re in Mackay at the moment, and would like to meet up for coffee, you should send me a message. It’s something that I don’t do as often as I’d like, but I like as often as I do. And on that rather unsettlingly annoying turn of phrase that I can’t-rewrite-for-the-life-of-me, I’m bringing this blog entry to a close.
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