Saturday, September 29

You're a bit of a what, exactly? Aisle 16/ Manchester Exchange.

How often do you hear people saying/ whispering/ shyly, with averted eyes: 'I'm a bit of a...'

bit of a what?

work-addict? feminist? pendant? bitch? (-who isn't?) lazy person? tired person? sleep-deprived person? geek?

Please wait - I'm not intending to describe myself. I'm really, really not, although I did find myself saying the last one today (& at the same time laughing)... the person pointed at me, smiled at her daughter, smiled at me, then said: 'don't you know? that's what a geek looks like'. I pointed to the ueber cool specs. The woman smiled a bit of a bit more.

I'm not really trying to say anything; only that it occured to me how much we try to understate things - to ourself, and others. A bit of a geek? by most people's definitions, I'm the height of geek-ness and all it entails. What did you say you're a 'bit of' today? (Other than hot stuff, to yourself...?)

Aisle 16

They deserve capitals, indeed they do. They deserve clapping and laughing and inward turning of the head and feet shuffling awkwardly and then some more laughing, and wanting to look at them and tell them how much their performance made you want to live. Sweeping statement, you may think? How can an hour and a bit stuck with four men and some other strangers and a friend in a room at the back of the exchange make you want to live? Make you physically jump? Easily, I tell thee. Oh-so-easily.

Number 1: these boys/ men/ male-species be poets. Yes, they write. They read. They rhyme, they laugh, they live.

That is all. Number 1. Top. The best for that time.

They write poems which make me despair and do all that face turning to the side scheebang, and also make me jump up and down in St Ann's square, full of possibility.

I ask you to go and see them, for your own sake. For your own stomach aching afterwards. Go and play along with their games. (Really, we actually played games. Spot the Ford Escort...)

It's generally under a tenner, and you even get a free CD, with some of their stuff, which includes a track called 'Embrace the Wank'. And who wouldn't want that?

PS: ever tried explaining why you like essay-writing? I tried; people didn't seem to get what the hell I was on about.
Damn. The doorbell rings at the WRONG time. I'll post later.