Phase 1

So there I was, at the O2, waiting for Stevie Wonder to come on. A legend. And I'm angry. I'm angry because T and I planned to grab a bit o' scran before the show, but so did the rest of London so we couldn't get in anywhere. I ended up paying £6.50 for some chips and a weird veggie burger with black hairs in it. I was pissed off because I bought a prepatory bottle of water - knowing my throat would be dry from singing like buggery - and they wouldn't let me have the bottle top (the justification being they "didn't know what I was going to do with it"). Screams of "I'm a teacher, what do you think I'm going to do with it?!" met with nonchalance.

So we arrived early and waited in our don't-book-if-you-suffer-from-vertigo seats. And the brightness of the animated billboards is blinding. I close my eyes to see neon stripes burned into my eyelid. We're at a gig that people who don't go to gigs go to, we mused. And then we realised our gig before that was REM at Twickenham Stadium. Bugger. We are that person.

My NY resolution this year is to go to more gigs. To not become a stadium person. I've come home (tipsy) and found myself booked into 2 gigs already! Bridget St John at a vegetarian cafe in Camden and The Right Honourable Richard Thompson at the not-so-small-but-nowhere-near-stadium Barbican.

Does it still count if it's folk music?