Ph.Deborah

      staving off final year insanity with procrastination...

Monday 10 August 2009

Edinburgh Day Three

Another day dawns bright and fair - wait, that's not right, start again. Good morning, it is pissing it down here in Edinburgh, and it looks as though the sky will be set to 'gloomy' all day. Annoyingly, I scheduled less for our last couple of days as I figured we'd wander around a bit. Bah. Still, we can always turn up and get tickets for stuff, should the mood strike, I'm sure.

So, I decided to wander into town myself yesterday, as I had heard there was an Orla Kiely sample sale on, and I am a fan of the sample sale. I worked out what bus to get and where to get off, so far so good. Boarded the bus and asked for a £3 day pass, handing over my fiver. 'You need the correct change' remarked the bus driver, somewhat disinterestedly. 'You don't have any change?' I asked. 'Correct change only', he repeated, automaton style. 'So I can't get on the bus, even though I have both the desire to travel, and the funds with which to make that dream a reality?', I should have said, but didn't. 'You can get change at that garage across the road', said a helpful woman behind me. 'Of course, the bus will be gone by the time you get back', she added less helpfully. So I trudged off the bus, muttering all sorts of 'Scottish bus driver throws pregnant woman off bus' tabloid headlines to myself, and went across the road to the garage. Just at that moment, a giant black cloud appeared from nowhere and deposited a heavy shower on my head. I like to think the bus driver smiled as he saw this through his rearview mirror... Oh well, I thought as I collected my change, at least there will be another bus in 15 minutes. But of course I had forgotten it was a Sunday: day of infrequent buses and sad, sad Deborahs. So all in all, I waited at the bus stop for 40 minutes - 10 for the first bus, and 30 for the second. When I got onto the second, a woman behind me tried to pay for her day pass with a five pound note. AHA! I thought with an internal smile, allowing the part of myself that was secretly pleased every time someone else got into trouble at school (because at least it wasn't me), to emerge temporarily - don't you know you have to have the CORRECT CHANGE, Madam? Now you will have to wait half an hour in the rain too! But - what is this? People on the bus start offering to change her five pound note for her. She then takes a seat next to me, not realising that I am APOPLECTIC WITH RAGE and tempted to make her eat the rest of her change (two pounds, maths fans). Breathe...breathe...breathe...

Like the good (ex-Heat-reading) consumer I am, I knew that my Sunday could only be salvaged with some successful shopping. No pressure, Orla... Luckily, the sample sale did not disappoint and I got an awesome coat (which even in a size 10 did up over the bump...for now) for £60, a fraction of the retail price. Hurrah! Also picked up a cute purse and a make up bag. Rage abated, mood much improved for the rest of the day. Just call me Bridget Jones. No, really, really don't.

Came back to the apartment and made some salad for lunch, and then managed to nap for an hour and a half. Felt a little woozled afterwards but don't think I would have managed the rest of the evening without it.

We headed off to the Stand on York Street to see Mark Thomas and his 'Manifesto' show. He was excellent, and I highly recommend the show to anyone (well, not to Tories - but really, how many Tory readers do I have?!). He's doing some shows at the Tricycle in Sept and Oct, for all you London folks. I won't spoil the show for you, but I will tell you that both mine and my mother's official policy suggestions made it into his 'yes' pile. And only one of them was 'Edinburgh buses should carry change' (this got a particularly large cheer from the crowd... so I guess I was not alone) - and it wasn't even my suggestion! Mine was a rather more in-depth 'reduce your patriarchal footprint policy', which Mark liked and had some cool things to say. He also made an effort to talk to me before the show when we were waiting to go in, rather than hiding out backstage, which I think says a lot. Also, he's really nice :)

Bit of a rush to get from there to Rachael's show, and no time to eat. We tried to get food at the venue, but they'd stopped serving two minutes earlier BECAUSE IT'S SUNDAY. You begin to see why people have a problem with God...

Rachael and Seth both did great shows. Seth was still buzzing from having met David Byrne the night before, and Rachael is definitely happier with a bigger audience. I wish she'd mix up the setlist just a little bit more, though I know it's harder with the band. 'Sistersong' into 'Hit Song' was cool the first night, but after three times, I'm a little over it, especially as there are other songs I really want to hear (even though I love 'Sistersong' especially with Seth on glockenspiel). 'What If' was really good again though, and makes the baby kick, which Meredith thinks means that the baby is already angsty. Bring on the teenage years! Rachael promised to play 'Slow Down' at some point... only two shows left... maybe a gentle reminder tonight :)

We then headed over to Cowgate for our last show, Is The Daily Mail Dead Yet. Sadly, the show did not live up to its title. It was just one guy doing stand up, and although he had his moments, it was just not good enough. I also really hate comedians who think they're being really progressive and liberal by slagging off, say, the Daily Mail because of its racism or class hatred, but then see no inconsistency in their own regressive sexism. I walked out at the point of him suggesting we incentivise schoolboys to work harder by giving them prostitutes. My mother followed me, but didn't know why I'd walked out, as she was asleep. Says it all really.

Cab home... separate rooms... and sleep........

1 comment:

otter said...

Hmmm, what happened to Day 4?