Libertines write-up time, because I woke up after a Nyquil-induced nap and watched the BBC footage from Reading and teared up all the way through it, and now I must talk about them.
I will write up the rest of the festival experience with the Oxford trip later, though I must mention that no one told me before that to get to the festival site from the parking area, you got to take A BOAT. That's right, A BOAT. Not only was it A BOAT, but when we started moving the speakers blasted out "I'm On A Boat." So, already, it was pretty much the best festival ever.
Anyway, Libertines! Bethan and I had been further into the crowd for Dizzee Rascal's set, and while it was fun, I couldn't really see anything there, so I decided to hang back a bit for the Libs' set so I could see some of the stage and the screens. For quite some time, there was a strange hole around us, but as it got closer for time for the boys to go on the hole filled in. I have a bad habit of stressing out before gigs thinking about all the things that could possibly go wrong and ruin my experience, but I was determined to just relax and enjoy this moment, and I was remarkably calm until the screens started showing clips of the boys to "We'll Meet Again," and then my hands went over my mouth and I teared up a bit. I can't even describe what it was like when they actually came on, just that the cheer was amazing. It was like the Albert Hall show when everyone sang along to "Fuck Forever," and I couldn't believe that I was in the middle of people who actually knew the song, people to whom it meant something. I am so used to having to explain the Libertines to people and not having them quite get it, and to be inside a crowd with that much love for the band that has meant so much to my life...it was incredible.
And then they started playing, and it was fantastic. I'd heard live recordings, of course, but nothing really compares to actually hearing them play together live. It was just amazing, and they sounded SO GOOD. Like, really, legitimately good, and I still feel that way after watching the BBC footage. I had an enormous sense of pride as I watched them, and the feeling that this was right, this was how it should be. They looked so happy up there, and the crowd was so supportive. Any time Peter and Carl interacted, there were cheers and "awww!"s and by the end my face hurt from smiling. I managed not to cry much until "Music When the Lights Go Out," at which point I just lost it completely and sobbed all the way through.
There were of course a couple of odd incidents. First the flare in the crowd, which at first I thought was a fire, but then Peter kept singing and I thought surely if there was an out-of-control fire in the middle of the festival he'd stop, so I didn't worry too much. And then the sound getting pulled during "Time for Heroes." I don't think most of us knew until later that it was because of a crush at the front - I thought something had just gone wrong with the speakers. I felt awful for the boys because it had been going so well up until that point, and I'm sure they were confused by the boos, because I don't think they knew the sound was out at first. But then they came right back in at Carl's solo - which reminded me of Shambles picking up after the fire alarm in Cardiff, I suppose that was practice for Peter - and I think they were even better after that. And then there was the bit of "Radio America" before "Up the Bracket" that made me deliriously happy even if it was only 30 seconds, and the cuddling. OMG, the cuddling. It was wonderful to see, and I don't even mean that necessarily in a Peter/Carl shippy slashy way, but to see them be genuinely happy together and knowing how special that friendship is and all that they'd been through to get to that point, it was really heartwarming.
After the set ended and the boys hugged and went offstage, I immediately turned back to Ruth and said, "I need to hug someone now!" and then we all had group hugging and crying, and then we met back up with Bethan and Alice and there was more hugging and crying. I am so glad that I went, and that I was able to share the experience with people who are really special to me, and who I would not have met without The Libertines. And most of all, I was glad for the boys. I'd read so many articles and blogs beforehand claiming that their time is over, and that no one really cares about the Libertines, but that crowd singing back to them and cheering and crying and sharing every emotion shows that people do care, that they are important, that they're more than a tabloid staple and a load of hype from the NME - they're a band that means a lot to a lot of people, and I know I'm partial but I think it was a really special moment, and I feel like I was privileged to be a part of it.
I am at a hostel in Liverpool right now. I can't believe I've only been here for three days. So, the first night (day?) I was here I ended up staying in London with Alice, mys, Ruth and Alison and going to Hoxton's twattiest venue for this club night Carl was putting on, where I may have had far too much wine and DPT PERFORMED. I am told they were actually quite rubbish but after several glasses of wine I thought they were BRILLIANT and there was lots of general dancing and jumping around and hugging of Ruth and mys.
So then yesterday after not nearly enough sleep we went to Cardiff to see Shambles. As we were passing the venue Ruth goes, offhandedly, "Oh, there's Peter with some fanboys." And then Alice, probably not in any seriousness, said, "Should we turn around then?" and in a very small voice I went, "Yes, please?" so she did, and I leapt out of the car and ran very probably right across traffic to see Peter, who was on his way into a taxi, and I think I said "Hello" and maybe something else, and he shook my hand and apologized that they had to get a taxi to the train station, and then he tipped his hat to me before getting into the boot of the taxi backwards. As you do. If you're Peter. So I bounced back across the busy street, going "ImetPeterImetPeterImetPeter" even if it was for only five seconds but importantly I did not pass out or die or vomit or get hit by a passing car.
Then the gig happened. I managed to make my way up to the barrier, and it was really amazing. I'd never seen Peter with a band before, and the energy is so different than his solo shows but it was so good and it was going great until the fire alarm went off and they had to evacuate the venue in the middle of "Baddies Boogie." But it was all right, though, because once they let us back in we all got on the barrier in front of Drew, and then Shambles came back and picked up "Baddies Boogie" right where they left off, and Peter sounded great and kept trying to stand on an amp that he very obviously could not balance on and got into a brilliant tug of war with a girl who crowdsurfed to the stage and tried to steal his scarf, which he was not having. Peter won, by the way. They did some of the new songs - "Fireman" and "Stranger in My Own Skin" and another one I can't remember. And during "Albion" Peter started trying to tell some story during the names of towns bit, and someone shouted out "Cardiff!" and he said, "I was going to say that one," and there was also a brilliant Peter pout at one point, and of course they ended with "Fuck Forever" which was amazing with a band, and it was all bouncy and wonderful and I didn't even mind that the merchandise was still crap. How many of those Shotter's Nation 2007 tour programs did they make up, anyway?
After the show we hung around for a bit because Kieran was coming out to say hello, and he offered to go back in and get us some beers. This was very important to the story because it delayed us leaving, and meant that I could see a small crowd gathered at the other end of the street. Curious, I went to investigate, and OH MY GOD it was Peter, and I sort of went all funny and cannot really remember that much but it involved following Peter around the back of the tour bus, and the whole time I was so nervous that I wouldn't get to speak to him because he is like 800 feet tall or something - I may be exaggerating slightly, but still, it was like looking up at a TREE - and I'm only little and I was like HE CANNOT SEE ME AND HE WILL LEAVE AND I WILL DIE. Again, possibly exaggerating, but still. Anyway, he was slowly making his way towards the door of the bus chatting to fanboys about something or other and being forced to kiss people's girlfriends, and finally I got up the nerve to just sort of put my hand on his arm and say "Peter?" in what was surely a very small and pathetic voice, and he looked at me, and I started saying "I came from America to see you..." and he went "Really?" and I said yes, and then this is the part where I very probably started crying a bit although I can't quite remember, and then I continued, "...yes, and I just wanted to say thank you, for the music and, um, everything, because you mean so much to me," and he said, "Aw, thank you," and then he gave me a hug, but not just a little side hug but like a proper, both arms around me, pulling me into his chest sort of hug, and it was the absolute best moment ever, and I was sort of dazed and happy and then he waved goodbye to everyone and went in the tour bus, and I didn't get to get a picture but it was all right because my camera stopped working anyway, and I am very sorry I did not get to call Jeni as I'd wanted but he was leaving and I am honestly not sure I had the mental capacity to work a phone anyway. And then I walked rather shakily back to the car, and Alice asked me what I said to him, and I said it was exactly what I wanted to say. I know it sounds horribly lame but I had actually thought about what I would say to Peter if I was ever lucky enough to meet him, and it turned out that all I really wanted to say was thank you, both to him and to Carl, because without them - and I'm sorry, I'm starting to cry again, which I've done rather a lot but it's happy and I mostly didn't cry on Peter, only a little bit - I wouldn't have had these experiences. I've done things I would never have imagined myself doing. I have amazing friends I would never have met. I've had something that's kept me going when things have been very dark. I'd always said if I ever met Peter I'd hug him and slap him and then hug him again, because he does infuriate me sometimes, but I'm all right with just the hug.
And then sometime after that my whole nervous system sort of collapsed and I got a headache and felt incredibly nauseous and I had to get some medicine from Alice - see what a bad influence Peter is, a half hour after meeting him I was already looking for drugs - and we went back to Bethan's and had tea and watched mys unsuccessfully attempt to tempt Bethan's rabbits out to play with her, and then today Bethan and I came up to Liverpool and had dinner at Nando's with her friend Louise, who is very nice, and then I came back to the hostel and watched the X Factor results show and managed to cast a vote for Olly even though he didn't win (sadface), and overall it's just been lovely and amazing and it's only three days in and did I mention I met Peter? Because I did. And he was wonderful and I'm pretty sure he had bathed and he gives very nice hugs, in case you were wondering.
So, someone on LJ (who I won't name, as she's since deleted the post, but I think it was a good idea) was going to ask people to comment anonymously with why they love Peter/Carl/The Libertines. I was originally going to just send this in an e-mail to her, but then I thought I'd post it, because I know I've talked about the Libs a lot, obviously, but maybe never really about what draws me to them. Reading over this, it seems insufficient, but I think it goes a little way towards explaining. Anyway, if you want to read it's under the cut.
ETA: If you'd like to leave your own comment about why you love/are drawn to Peter, Carl and the Libs, please do! I think anon commenting is on if you want to use that.
Yay! After months of sitting on my floor, my poster of Peter is finally up in my office. Huzzah!
I also set up all my utilities today! Double huzzah!
I keep trying to write up the U.K. trip, but I don't know quite how to begin, and the shows are all sort of running together into one giant Peter spectacular. I suppose I could just go chronologically, so here goes...
Day 1 (aka Thursday)
I took an overnight flight to London on Wednesday, where I sat next to Jorge, the man I grew to hate more than anyone in the world. He was awful, demanding, bitchy and petulant, and woke me up in the middle of the night by screaming "NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!" at his DVD of 24. He didn't even apologize for scaring the crap out of me. I hated that man. Anyway.
I landed at Heathrow Thursday morning. Usually, I'm only asked why I'm visiting the U.K., I answer "I'm here on vacation," and they let me go through. Maybe I looked particularly shifty due to my lack of sleep, but that answer was not sufficient. No, the lady wanted to know what I was doing while on holiday. This was our conversation.
Me: I'm going to see some concerts. Her: Which concerts are you going to see? Me: Erm...*shuffling around uncomfortably* Pete Doherty? Her: *raised eyebrow* Where are you staying? Me: Um, a few places. Mostly with my friend Bethan in Cardiff. Her: And is Bethan a Pete Doherty fan too? Me: *voice getting progressively smaller* Um, yes? Her: Could you spell her name for me? Me: B-E-T-H-A-N... Her: *also asks for Bethan's address and phone number* Me: *gives her Bethan's contact info, feeling a bit like an informer before the McCarthy commission* Her: And how did you meet Bethan? Me: *thinking thepornthepornohgoddon'tmentiontheporn* Erm, the Internet? Her: *raised eyebrow*
Despite this, I was let into the country after all. I went to Paddington to meet up with bluesenough, who had her own tale of immigration woe. We headed to a local pub to eat lunch before deciding that neither of us were really hungry, and splitting an order of chips that mostly sat uneaten at the table, much to the consternation of an elderly gentleman who came by our table three times to stare forlornly at the picked-at chips and shake his head. After commiserating over travel difficulties and laughing about Libs-related things together, it was time for me to head back to Paddington for my train to Cardiff to meet up with known Pete Doherty fan madam_ray, with whom I was staying the weekend.
The train to Cardiff was fairly uneventful, and honestly I slept and/or read for most of it. Bethan picked me up and took me back to hers. I believe we also ate something that night as well, but I was rapidly falling asleep, and soon was snuggled in bed underneath the watchful gaze of Peter and Carl (well, mostly Carl. Peter didn't look particularly interested) to sleep off my jet lag and rest up for Friday night's show.
Day 2 and 3 to follow, with bonus Liber-bears!
In the meantime, have some Gin Riots, because I will not rest until I have pimped these boys out for all they're worth.
Also, somewhat randomly, is there anywhere online that Peter has written out the lyrics to "Fuck Forever"? I'm probably being silly and they're in the Down in Albion booklet, but I actually downloaded that from iTunes lo these several years ago, so I don't have the artwork proper. Anyway, I am mostly decided that whenever I get up the nerve to do a tattoo again, I want the artwork from the "Last of the English Roses" single with the lyrics "Happy endings still don't bore me" in Peter's handwriting. I'm hoping the heart can cover the crap butterfly I have. What can I say, I was 21 and stupid.
I just checked my MySpace - I'd sent Gary a message when I got back, and he sent me this:
courtney!!!!! it's great to hear from you!!!!! it was a pleasure to meet you - especially after you made such an effort to come out and hang with us guys. i personally think that isd us that needs to thank you guys - especially the likes of you, taking extra-ordinary measures just to be there.
so, on behalf of 'the boys in the band,' i thank you and send lots of love and admiration, and this is not just for travelling thousands upon thousands of miles, but mainly for being a damned nice person.
so, all the best i wish for you and yours, stay in contact and we will keep you updated as to what is happening in the wierd and wacky world we all live in.
Day 4 began with me and Katt catching the train from Cambridge to Norwich and finding our B&B in Norwich, which was located conveniently close to the train station. Because we had some time to kill before we needed to be at the venue, I convinced Katt to walk up to Norwich Cathedral. cucumbersarnies had taken me around the outside of the cathedral when I visited her in July, but we were too late then to go inside. Katt and I took a lovely little walk up to the cathedral by the river. The cathedral is gorgeous. True, if you've seen one flying buttress, you've probably seen them all, but the scale and age of it are still amazing to me. I walked up this tiny, narrow, twisting staircase to the Treasury, where I saw a painted ceiling from the 1200s. I don't think I'll ever get used to how old things in Europe are - I mean, in Fort Worth, if we have a building surviving from the 1920s that's pretty old.
After walking back to the B&B and getting dressed, we met up with Anne at the train station and went to Nando's (yay!) for a quick dinner. I'm afraid I probably rushed us, as I was feeling pre-gig nervousness by then and wanted to get to the UEA ASAP. We arrived just in time to see Gary and Carl chatting to fans outside. I got a quick photo with Carl (the one I posted), and asked if he remembered my song. "Best Face, right?" he said, and I inwardly (O.K., and outwardly) squeed that he remembered. I also said hi to Gary, who was being a star by talking to people's friends on their cell phones. At one point, he had two conversations going, one on each ear. He was very funny and gracious to everyone. Have I mentioned before how awesome Gary is? Eventually he had to go to check in to his room in the dorm, which is apparently where they were putting up the guys for the night. Can you imagine going to school and seeing Carl in the hall of your dorm? I could totally see Gary making a new career as a Resident Advisor, though.
We waited around for about an hour for the doors to open. The most exciting thing that happened during that time was some police coming by to give us pamphlets on mobile phone safety, which advertise a number to call if your mobile phone is stolen. Ponder that for a moment. Once the doors opened, there was a bit of a mad rush to get inside. Despite delay caused by having an incredibly slow, disorganized lady taking care of those of us getting tickets on the door, we managed to get to the barrier, and I was once again in front of Didz, which as we all know is where the action is anyway. Surprisingly, although the people in the queue had raced to get inside, once at the barrier I looked around and found lots of room past the first few rows. The crowd seemed rather sedate, and in fact they were pretty sedate throughout most of the show, barring a few crowdsurfers at the very end.
A few "nervous pees" and three support acts later, DPT finally came on, late as usual. I have to say, I've seen DPT three times now, and they've never been on time. I've seen Peter once, and he was exactly on time. Who's the "reliable Libertine" now, eh, Carlos? Although the crowd's energy wasn't nearly as good as in Cambridge, I still really enjoyed the show, particularly because it was going to be my last one. We had an unexpected appearance of "Truth Begins," which I managed to start videoing about 30 seconds in, once I turned my camera on. I tried to upload it to YouTube before I left but it kept hanging up - I'll try again when I get back home tomorrow. However, one thing was missing from the set. My promised song. I was, let's say, a bit overemotional anyway, and my immediate reaction was OMG CARL HATES ME AND THAT'S WHY HE DIDN'T PLAY MY SONG. Everyone tried to reassure me that, no, Carl didn't hate me, he just hates "Best Face," and I did calm down a bit. Still, I was kind of apprehensive to go speak to Carl when he came outside. When he saw me, though, he started apologizing for not playing the song. He said his voice was "fucked," and that he'd thought about announcing from the stage why he couldn't do the song, but "no one understands what I say anyway," and he obviously felt bad about not being able to do the song for me, and then I felt bad that he felt bad, and I told him it was O.K. and that I'd had a wonderful time. He did say that they would probably do "Best Face" in Paris, and asked if I was coming back for Paris (he and Peter are trying to bankrupt me!). I told him, sadly, no, but I said that I would come back to see him whenever he got his next project going.
After that, I joined the other girls who were in conversation with Didz. I wish I could transcribe the entirety of what happened with Didz. Suffice to say, he's hilarious, and any residual upset I still felt was completely gone after talking to him. I got autographs for eirefaerie and opium_and_tea, both of which relate to basketball. I saw Carl again later and told him about the autographs, and he told me that Didz sometimes hangs around in basketball jerseys and was one of those "annoying kids" with basketball goals on the front of their homes. Didz really enjoyed taking the piss out of me. The conversation at one point veered to fish fucking. I don't know how you can top that, really.
Gary came back out, and we talked to him for a while as well. I only saw Stan for a second - the entirety of my interaction with him consisted of agreeing that Alan Partridge is hilarious, and confirming that Steve Coogan is from Norwich, which is a fact I'd read in a newspaper at Von's. Fear my powers of retention! Eventually, they all had to go, and after hugging all our friends goodbye we caught a cab back to the B&B.
The next morning, it was time to say goodbye to Katt, and to England. I got up and went to the train station to catch the 10:30 train to London, which I found out when I arrived had been cancelled, putting me on the 11 a.m. train. Not a big deal, since I had plenty of time to get to Heathrow. I decided to have breakfast in the Pumpkin Cafe inside the station, and sat down with my bacon roll and Diet Coke at a table. The cafe was pretty crowded - I guess with travellers waiting for the 11 o'clock like me - so when a guy in a suit asked to sit at my table I didn't mind. He was reading the paper, and on the back was an ad for the Saints-Chargers game at Wembley. Remember what I said before about being weirdly sociable in foreign countries? I decided that remarking on the ad would be a perfect conversation starter, and so when the man turned the page I caught his eye and said something about the game, which then launched us into a conversation about sports, and within a few minutes I'd made my new friend Terry. He runs a website design company in Norwich, and was on his way to London to meet with a client. He carried my luggage on to the train for me, and we sat together. Terry was very interested in my U.K. gig-going adventures, particularly how I'd flown over twice for Peter, and wanted to know what it is that I like about Peter, since he'd only seen him in the tabloids. Before the train pulled in to Liverpool Street Station, he gave me his e-mail, and I'm supposed to send him some Libs stuff. He was really nice, and I enjoyed having someone to talk to on the way - I was feeling pretty lonely and depressed about leaving, and it was nice to have someone to take my mind off that.
I took a cab from Liverpool Street to Paddington - expensive, but I missed London and hated that I hadn't really seen any of it this trip, so I decided on the overground rather than Underground route. It was worth it to me to see some of the city. After that, I ate lunch at Paddington Station, took the Express to Heathrow, checked in to my flight, and began the journey home, which isn't that exciting, except that my flight was almost completely empty so there was plenty of room to stretch out and sleep, which was nice.
I'm really happy I went. It was a crazy decision, I know, but I felt like I needed to say goodbye to this band, and I'm glad I had the opportunity to do it. I loved seeing everyone I'd met in April and July again, and meeting the people I met for the first time on this trip. I wish we all lived closer so I could see y'all all the time. Some of you need to come to South by Southwest in March! It's fun! Plus, as I overheard a man stopping in the middle of Sixth Street and saying incredulously this past year, "There's music everywhere!"
Oh, speaking of things I overheard people say, a little fanboy who passed by me in Norwich after meeting Carl was breathlessly saying to his friends, "He's even more handsome in person!" Yes, yes he is. I love fanboys :-) And I love these boys - Carl, Gary, Didz, and Anthony. Thanks for everything, guys. You've given me more than you know.
In my hotel in Atlanta now, waiting for The Office to start, so I thought I'd try to type up my experiences in England.
So - Day 1. Or Day 2, really, as Day 1 began Friday night when I flew out of DFW and was mostly taken up with me sleeping, which isn't very interesting, unless you'd like to hear more about my paralyzing fear of being stricken with deep vein thrombosis that resulted in me waking up every 20 minutes to stretch my legs.
I arrived at Heathrow Saturday morning and took the Express to Paddington, where I caught the Circle line train to Kings Cross. I rushed - as much as I could rush with my luggage, and YES I KNOW I OVERPACKED THANKS FOR MENTIONING IT EVERYONE WHO SAW MY LUGGAGE EVER (I love you all, you know) - to the train, only to sit on it for ten minutes while it didn't go anywhere. This is when I struck up Random Stranger Conversation #1, with the Three Cute Boys from Bath. Now, I have a weird quirk that I am horribly, painfully shy in social situations. Invite me to a party with a bunch of people I don't know, and I will stand by the wall, head down and shaking in fear rather than speak to anyone. Get me, however, in a strange country on public transportation, and I become Chatty Cathy. I don't understand it either. Anyway, it turned out these boys went to uni in Bath and came to London on the weekends to drink. This particular occasion, they were staying in a hostel near Kings Cross that used to be a prison, and were planning on going drinking at Filthys, which I of course told them all about, it being a key stop on the April Tour of Grotty Places Peter and Carl Once Lived and Played. They were very disappointed that I wasn't staying in London to come drink with them, particularly the really cute one who spent the journey, once the train did begin moving, relating interesting facts about the history of the London Underground. I was really disappointed I wasn't staying in London, but DPT won out. Being Nice Boys, they carried my luggage for me into Kings Cross, and one of them let me use his phone to call Von and tell her when my train was coming in to Cambridge.
Now, my knowledge of Cambridge was entirely restricted to one thing - Cambridge University is there. And, as we all know, Cambridge University is old and posh. Therefore, I had this vague idea that I would get off the train and be confronted by a scene from Brideshead Revisted, all Edwardian clothes and people lounging about with long cigarettes. Instead, I found a family of teenage girls in tracksuits spitting on the sidewalk. Illusions shattered, I sighed, and sat down to wait for stjarna1984 outside the station. Finally, she arrived, and took me on the bus to Haverhill, where I was staying with her for the night. At my request, we went to eat Indian food, which was very good - I had a samosa and garlic naan and this chicken dish with almond paste that was awesome. Then, about halfway through the meal, I started to fall asleep, so we went back to her house, where I promptly did.
Sometime during the night, Von's parents arrived from visiting her brother in France. The next morning, Von and I went to Sainsbury's so I could get a Diet Coke. I ended up leaving with a Diet Coke, the Mighty Boosh Series 3 DVD, the new McFly CD and DVD (don't judge me!), two copies of the Mighty Book of Boosh (one for me and one for Erin), and a copy of Richard Hammond's latest book (I may have shrieked "Hamster!" when I saw it). When we got back, Von's dad kindly drove us into Cambridge, where I checked in to the B&B I would be staying in that night with kattrags and we met up with narie and airlight. We then decided to walk down to The Junction and stalk the band. We made a successful sighting of Gary, who blew his cover by walking by while air drumming. Further efforts at stalking were unsuccessful, although I got to eat at Nando's, so I counted it as a win.
I then left the girls bowling at the bowling alley in the entertainment center by The Junction, while I went into town to meet Katt. We'd heard that Adam was doing an instore appearance at Fopp, although we didn't know what time. We arrived just after he'd finished playing, which I think is going to be the story of my life when it comes to Adam. We had a good time hanging out and talking to him, though, and I got another picture with him to make up for the picture I took with him outside the RAH where he looks oddly intoxicated. After that, we met up for a brief drink with yfli and esclarmonde before going to the B&B to change and then taking a bus to the gig, where we met up with myska_x, madam_ray, rutherinahobbit, and later eastendbestend and junk_n_jubilee and suthnoli and I'm sure I'm forgetting people now, but anyway we got in and I got on the barrier in front of Didz, in roughly the same place I was standing when I saw DPT for the first time in Chicago.
After suffering waiting through Apollo Sunshine and Kieran Leonard, DPT came on. I don't think I could really describe either gig. People who have seen them more often than I do and who didn't fly 8000 miles to get to the gig probably have less prejudiced opinions, but for me, they were amazing. I didn't even mind nearly getting squashed against the barrier or getting kicked in the head by crowdsurfers or having my left leg be in screaming pain because all my weight was shoved onto it for an hour. It was wonderful. Carl took his shirt off, and I saw the back dimples in person. The songs from the new album sounded great, and hearing the songs from the first album live again reminded me of being in Chicago, and falling in love with the band the first time and how I got involved in fandom and started meeting all these wonderful people, so many of whom were around me then, and...yeah, it was just an amazing experience.
Afterwards, we went to the Soul Tavern, where Didz and Gary were DJing at the afterparty. Didz and Gary are...well, I did dance to a couple of songs they played, so maybe they're slightly better than Didz and Carl DJing. I somewhat embarrassingly did a bit of belly dancing to "Seven Nation Army" - all I can say is that I had a couple of drinks, and therefore cannot be held responsible for my actions. I talked to Gary, who was amazed that I'd come all the way from Texas to see them. Gary is so, so nice. Earlier, the conversation had turned to Gary being a superhero, and if he was a superhero, what his superhero name would be. "It would still be Gary," I'd said. And it totally would, because Gary is awesome. While I was talking to Gary, I said that I wanted to hear "Best Face," and Gary said, "You need to talk to that guy," pointing at Carl. I then took out a page from my notebook, and wrote the following:
Dear Carl,
I came all the way from Texas to see you. Please please please PLEASE play "Best Face" in Norwich.
Love, Courtney :-)
I handed it up to Carl, who was standing with Anthony behind the DJ booth. Carl took it and read it, then passed it to Anthony. They had a quick word, and Carl gave me a thumb's up, which I regarded as a sacred trust.
The rest of the night was...somewhat frustrating, because we kept wanting to talk to Carl, and he kept getting pulled away by other people. I wanted a picture with him that 1) wasn't blurry (like Chicago) and 2) where I could see his face (unlike London). I did get one, but Carl looked - let's just say really, really, really wasted. I may post that one later for the lulz. I kind of lose control of all emotions when it comes to Carl, because there's so much I want to say to him, and I have no idea how to say it. I think Peter would be the only other person who could make me so shaky and tongue-tied. I did finally get to talk to Carl for a second, and I embarrassingly just burst into tears and blathered some sort of thank you for...IDK, everything, like I probably thanked him for, you know, sunlight and air and joy in addition to his music, and he gave me a big hug. And then afterwards I saw Gary again and cried on him some more.
There are so many emotions bound up with these boys for me, I don't even know where to start. I've made so many friends through this, and had such amazing experiences, going back to the first time I saw DPT in Chicago. The music and the fandom has helped me through some tough times. I mean, Peter and Carl's reunion came the month after my dad died last year, and that was the first time I felt happy after that happened. Writing fic, getting back into fandom, listening to the music - that brought me back to normal. And this year, I sort of feel like all the things that have happened around the boys have had something to do with my dad. Like, it's completely crazy, but I was so undecided about whether I should go on this trip and use some of my grandmother's money, and before I went to bed I asked my dad what I should do, and the next morning on my way to work I was behind a car with a license plate that read "DPT" and even though I know it was just a coincidence, it seemed like he was telling me to go and be happy and have a good time. Everyone I've met who's been connected with these bands - the members and the fans - has been so wonderful. I don't know what my life would be like if I hadn't found them, really. And it's sort of frustrating to me that I can't convey that, exactly. Like I just want to sit down and pour out to them exactly what they mean to me, and everything I say always seems inadequate, and leaves me feeling a bit bad later.
But I did get a Carl hug.
Off to eat now. Day 4 in Norwich follows, including more gigs! More Carl! More crying! More conversations with random strangers on trains!
At the airport now. I do wish I could stay and see the London show tonight, but given a choice between coming and seeing the two gigs I have done and not seeing them at all, I wouldn't have missed out on this experience for anything. It was so so so so so so so so so amazing. I SAW CARL EATING A BANANA, Y'ALL. And SHIRTLESS CARLOS! And OMG Didz is the funniest person I have ever met, and Gary is just the loveliest man, and Carlos is ♥ despite a brief period of time in which I was convinced he hated me, but of course he didn't (I just get over-emotional about Carl) and he thanked me for coming and I got lots of hugs and I cried all over him and Gary and...well, everyone, really, except Didz, because Didz was busy taking the piss out of me and I was trying to do the same to him, although I wasn't nearly as good at it. I was on the barrier for both Cambridge and Norwich, so I can say I've been in front every time I've seen DPT. The shows are AMAZING. I am still sore from Cambridge, which is the most physical gig I've ever been to, but it's all good. And I saw Adam as well! Unexpected!Adam is a nice bonus, and he was as lovely as he was in July. I think I have him half-convinced to come to SXSW, maybe. I hope so, anyway.
I loved seeing everyone. I miss all of you already, and sorry for the tears! I just...I cannot really express what this fandom has meant to me. I will love Peter and Carl and the rest of the boys forever just for bringing me into contact with such wonderful people. Special thanks to my lovely stjarna1984 for the room, the company, and just being you :-), to kattrags for sharing B&B space with me - it was so nice to finally meet you!, and to cucumbersarnies for the quick dinner and ride to the UEA - I'll see you soon! And everyone else - sorry, this keyboard is defeating me with coding, but if I met you before then you know who you are and I'm really happy I got to see you again, and if I met you for the first time this trip I definitely enjoyed it and...and...can I come back again now please?
Everyone has just been so great, even people who I didn't know. When I got in to Paddington, I met this group of guys from Bath on the Tube, and they carried my luggage to the train in Kings Cross for me and let me use their phone to call Von. They were quite disappointed that I wasn't staying in London, actually - I think they wanted me to come drinking with them. And then today in Norwich Station I met a man named Terry who runs a website company and was on his way to London to meet with a client, and spent the whole journey talking to him about my insane adventures chasing bands around the country, and how British T.V. is superior to American T.V., and we've now exchanged e-mails. I am to send him a .zip file of Libs/Shambles/DPT stuff, as I've now encouraged him to give Peter a shot as an artist - he only knows him through the tabloid stuff.
Anyways, I have pictures and a vid of most of "Truth Begins" from Norwich to upload when I get back. Love all y'all. Later!
For foresthouse - and everyone, really. Please add more in the comments - I really should have a "Fluffy hair Peter" folder or something to organize these.
I think most of you are aware of this, as I met a good number of you through it, and I'm pretty open about it in my journal, but in case you friended me through something else and don't know, I write RPS, otherwise known as real person slash. Basically, this means I write a lot of stories about Peter Doherty and Carl Barat getting it on. Sometimes there are even plots! ;)
I know people have differing opinions on RPF/RPS, and I respect that. I don't expect everyone on my flist to read my fic. I know some of you don't, for various reasons, and that's O.K. with me. It is, however, a big part of my online life, so I'd ask you in return to respect that I've given some consideration to what I do and what lines I draw in reading/writing fic, and that for me it's a positive thing and not something I personally view as inherently creepy or disrespectful to the people involved.
Anyway, just putting this out there as an FYI, and leaving it unlocked.
And here's me and Drew after the afterparty at Cargo. Yeah, it had been raining all day and I was looking pretty rough. And yes, I am incredibly short. It was funny - when we were taking the pic I was like, I feel like Drew's head is completely on top of mine. And lo and behold, it was!
Uploading all the pictures I took at South by from my camera now. This was my first outing with my new camera. We're still getting used to each other, and a lot of pictures didn't turn out like I wanted, but I'm fairly happy with many of them. ( Here are a fewCollapse )
I'll be gradually putting up pics on Flickr, and will link to them when I'm done.
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