Walked to work today, as I do most days. Again very windy: my long scarf, hair, and the wires of my discman conspired to form a thick cable and attempt to strangle me. Got to work sweating like a Scouser in Dixons, and, as I do every day, said ‘Good morning’ to the security guards on the front desk. As usual, they responded with silence and ‘Who the fuck are you?’ faces.
Had a fab dream last night. Me, Steve, and a nameless friend of Steve’s formed a band. I think we were called Nails (look, it was a dream ok? I don’t make decisions for my subconscious), and we sounded a bit like the Cowboy Junkies, and me and Steve were both singers. Anyways, we had a gig, and before the gig loads of people were already in the venue (I think there was a buzz about us), so I had to go ask them all for £5 entry money. There was one cheeky guy who refused to pay until after the show, in case he didn’t like us. Uncharacteristically, I let him get away with this. So. We took to the stage, and we only had three songs, two of which were covers. I think it went well. After the gig I caught Steve lining up the red lace bras of all his groupies in order of preference. Like I say, it was a great dream.
I don’t know if the dream was related at all to the event we danced at last night. The Actionettes had a slot at the Stonewall Housing benefit at Heaven. But at the benefit we also only got to do three songs… Rubbernecking, Magic touch, and Love Power. It was lovely to dance on a huge stage, but it did make me feel very exposed, as did the fact that the audience were all seated at tables and not drunkenly falling over as they are at most of our shows.