Room to breathe.

This space is reserved for when I get out of the shower.

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Right, back. And I'm making my own rules up so I definitely published this post before midnight.

I'm right. Shut up.

I'll have to keep it sweet because it's now nearly half past twelve and I've still got this bee-ee-ay-utiful essay to do on the sociological explanations of family diversity and shit, so I'm on borrowed time tonight.

Right: Friday, I went to The Duchess and had the most awesome night watching Parade and Josh & Co. which was a great start to the weekend. Had a few sentimental moments but we've already been there.

I spent Saturday morning working and I finally learnt to use the tills in the store so I'm fully trained and everything which is cool. Had a few problems with customers, one wanted to complain because the camera she'd bought was full of suck and didn't work at all and she wanted us to take it apart and find the problem and I was like "Lady, I don't work for Toshiba" but of course I didn't say that because then my butt would be OUT of that job faster than a bat from hell, so yeah.

Saturday night: Mostly Autumn. I see them every year and I love it every time. I had an episode after where I was trying to find my dad, talked my way backstage, ran around the damn venue looking for him, couldn't find him, left, walked home and then got a call saying "Were you looking for me? I was hiding behind a van because I kept getting mobbed but I thought I saw you go past." and it was all very complicated. Practically fell into bed and enjoyed my first lie in in two weeks the next morning.

Felt like CRAP on Sunday. Went shopping whilst hating everything and everyone, unable to stand up or focus, dizzy, slightly sick, craving sausage casserole (that was shortly rectified) before heading to my grandma's where she insisted on showing me this EPIC bruise on her butt/down her leg from where she went to sit down on her bed in the dark and missed by miles. Ouch.

And then finally I tottered (Literally. High, high heels and cobbled streets. Why does this keep happening to me? Why?) down to The Duchess and saw everyone for the third day running (we all go to the same shows... Gives me a twinge of nostalgia) before being flooded by drinks and "OH MY GOD is that you Nicole?" and "Remember me? We did an album together when you were seven." (no shit) and general awesome things. The show started with the support, two people I've known for a while, Anne-Marie Helder and Chris Johnson doing their thaang and then Breathing Space came on and put the cherry on top of the proverbial cake-ish weekend.

The band finished and everyone was screaming for more... The band came back and dedicated the song to the singer's mother (the singer's father died last year. He was great, we all knew him) and sang this ah-may-zing song. It was winding up to an explosive end when...

The whole bar was plunged into darkness. My dad was on lights so I assumed perhaps it was intentional. And then the fire alarm sounded. The damn smoke machine was too dense. We all started clapping and laughing. It was a fantastic way to end the night, and the weekend.

And now back to my normal, boring life.

Except I'm seeing Electric Six on Wednesday, just on a whim.

I really should count myself lucky. Because I know all these people I've been to three shows this weekend, had numerous drinks and snacks and stuff and spent absolutely nothing.

So here's a shout out to everyone who's been lovely, funny and rock-y all weekend with me. I love you all and I'll see you next year.