The Boy Least Likely To

i just thought it would be nice to get a pizza. i thought it would be quick and easy and i wouldn't have to really think about it. there's a shop in the village that sells freshly made pizzas that you can take home and bake yourself, so i thought that might be nicer than a frozen one. it wasn't. well, the pizza itself was. it was very nice. what wasn't nice was the slightly flirty nature of the cooking instructions. throughout which the pizza, my pizza, referred to itself in the first person.

it began innocently enough with the words "take me out of my film wrapping and leave me on the parchment paper", although the words "TAKE ME" in that sentence were the only words written in capital letters, which should have been a warning to me. but then it took on a slightly sexually aggressive tone with the instructions "pull me into the oven on the paper, sliding me from the round board", but again i didn't really think anything of it. i just thought it was a bit weird. i don't think i'd ever come across anthropomorphism being used as a literary device in cooking instructions before. 

i definitely started to feel quite uncomfortable though when the instructions starting asking me if i had any tongs anywhere and telling me how useful they were. "when i am risen, golden and bubbling," it said "pull me from the oven (best with those tongs) and on to a board." still, it was just a bit odd. i thought perhaps i was being over sensitive until the last instruction to "drizzle a little extra virgin olive oil over me if you wish" and then at the very bottom in capital letters simply the words "LOVE ME". i could barely bring myself to cook it. i felt dirty just thinking about the thing. my pizza had actually hit on me. there was a unnerving sexual undertone to everything i thought about it now. i wasn't just "putting it" in the oven anymore, i was "carefully sliding it in". and i couldn't even imagine how i was going to feel eating it. after it was finished cooking, i had to leave it sitting awkwardly next to me on the sofa for ten minutes. i could hardly look at it. eventually i got too hungry though, so i just ate it. and it tasted very nice. but i had to eat it with my eyes closed.

it was quite a weird experience. i felt slightly degraded afterwards and as if i'd cheapened the pizza in some way by not caring for it as much as it had needed me to. i don't think i'll buy home bake pizza from there again. it's too difficult. and i just don't think i'm ready to commit to an evening meal. it's not the pizza, it's me.

x

"what i was doing was like an occupation for me. i was that involved in looking at the sky and eating the apple. you would have thought that i had been hired to do it with a good salary and a pension if i stared at the sky long enough."

- richard brautigan

i find the end of the road festival so depressing. not while i'm there. while i'm there i love it. it's the most fun i could ever hope to have on a camping trip. but afterwards. when it's all over, i feel completely deflated. because it isn't just the festival that has ended, it's the summer itself. once the end of the road festival is over all i've got to look forward to is christmas. and that's months away.

i did still manage to have fun over the weekend. in the same way that i used to reluctantly enjoy buying new stationery the day before going back to school in september. i went to see a few bands that i quite liked. no one that exciting though. i managed to miss seeing josie long again. but i seem to do that every year. although i think this year i was closer than i've ever been before. there was probably only five minutes in it. my favourite thing i saw all weekend was jarvis cocker and richard hawley trying to dj on saturday night in the big top. for the first ten minutes it was the funniest thing i've ever seen. they had no idea what they were doing. it was a bit like watching my parents trying to work a video recorder. live on stage. in front of a crowd cheering them on. i missed most of the other bands i wanted to see because they were all playing on the sunday, and we had to go to the isle of wight to play at bestival the day after we played. bestival was a bit weird. when we got there we were told that our set time had changed and we were going on an hour earlier than we were supposed to. which isn't really a problem, except that obviously we were the only people who knew about it so anyone else that turned up to see us at the time we were supposed to be on missed us. sorry again to everyone that's emailed or written to us since. it wasn't our idea. 

i found a wispa gold in a shop on the isle of wight and i was so excited. i thought the shop must have some of the original stock of them. left over after all these years. i didn't know that they'd brought them out again. i was bit disappointed when i found them for sale in a service station in basingstoke on the way home. and now i see them everywhere. it's a bit like that plum in the film mystery train.

i learnt a few things over the weekend too. things i didn't know before. i learnt that if complete strangers invite me over to their tent to sit down with them while they're eating their tea then i will happily accept. i didn't think i would, but it turns out i think nothing of it. although i was a bit suspicious of the mint they gave me. i had to spit that out. i also learnt that i find it difficult to clap when the stage is on a slope. i wouldn't have thought it affected me, but i found it quite disorientating. and i learnt to always carry a safety pin. just in case katie melua ever asks me for one again.

now. we're in the studio for the next couple of days. recording a few extra songs for a new mini album hopefully and also for a special single that should be coming out in november. it's all quite exciting i suppose. there isn't much more to report but as soon as we know any more i'll write about it.

don't mention the summer though. it's over between us.

x

i went to see the pastels and tenniscoats last night at the bush hall. it was such a lovely evening. everything off the new album sounded really beautiful. especially 'vivid youth', 'mou mou rainbow', and the bit when stephen pastel first comes in in 'song for a friend'. and katrina sang 'the viaduct' and 'start slowly so we sound like a loch'. i think she's probably the best female singer in the world right now, along with tracyanne campbell and liz from the school. which reminds me, camera obscura should have been nominated for the mercury music prize for 'my maudlin career', but they weren't and i think that's wrong. anyway, it was a really special night and i've got the badge to prove it.

we're playing a couple of festivals this weekend. first on saturday we're playing in the afternoon at the end of the road festival in dorset, and then on sunday we're sailing over to the isle of wight to play bestival. i'm excited. i just hope everyone else is. we were going to be supporting the lemonheads next wednesday too, but we're not anymore because it's been cancelled. which is annoying because i was really looking forward to it. if anyone was thinking of coming we're very sorry. it wasn't our fault. someone else closed the london paper.

anyway, i'm tired now. i just wanted to write something about the pastels and tenniscoats while i remembered because it was so amazing.

i'm sorry i've written so infrequently over the summer. i just haven't been full of words. hopefully i'll have more in me in the autumn.

x