Off to Glastonbury

Today Frangelita is a happy bunny. After a seriously hellish week last week (not going to go into the details, but suffice to say I was almost reduced to tears on one day after spending two and a half hours driving backwards and forwards between Blackbird Leys and Cutteslowe and still failing to get what I had gone there for), things are looking up.

Cos not only am I heading to the mystical land of pear cider, rivers of mud and mysterious solstice occurences, I don't have to work for the next 12 days. Whoop! Although as I often say, I love my job, we've got a bit tight in terms of staff of late, expressions have been grim, shouting and swearing more frequent and inappropriate tears ever closer. So this is going to be a well-deserved break.

As to cider land, I managed to get myself in the festival spirit by visiting some small free music festival in Oxfordshire at the weekend, which was very laid back and rather nice, if a bit disconcerting that some of the acts looked not dissimilar to those you might see at a rather good school talent show. Course, the ambience was slightly spoilt when something (I think it must have been a nettle or ants rather than a snake in retrospect) got into my knickers, stung or bit me several times around my lower back area and left me in an extraordinary amount of seemingly inexplicable pain, which did not budge for the best part of an hour. I still don't really know what happened there. But I hope it does not happen again, it was HORRIBLE. And I felt like a bit of a drama queen as there appeared to be nothing to see, but I was at one point literally stooped over in pain.

Anyway, Glastonbury it is this weekend. Heading down tomorrow to get a good camping spot, suck up the vibe, and of course get started on a few pitchers of pear cider - not to mention the two boxes of wine we're carting down there.

It's going to be my third Glastonbury, but different from all the others because this time a whole gang of us are going from Oxford - including Curtains, who I asked a few weeks ago who he was going to the festival with and he said "you guys" . I said I assumed he would be going with someone cool, and he said he was. Bless.

Anyway, my first Glasto I went with a small group, only one of whom I knew very well.

Last time it was just me and HF, even though we knew loads of people there we didn't meet up with any of them. It was memorable for any number of reasons, not least of which watching the sun rise while queuing for the cash machine, or the time me and HF woke up to find a complete stranger in the middle of our tent trying to snuggle down in between us. It took a long and involved discussion to convince her to LEAVE IMMEDIATELY.

So I shan't be back in the world of blogging until next Tues at the earliest (quel surprise). Expect a few brain cells to have been decimated by then.

More on that story later.

Ticket to ride

At this time of year it is customary to see a certain kind of person looking harrassed and a tad bleary-eyed.

Because for some reason Glastonbury festival tickets go on sale at 9am on a Sunday morning. And there're about four people after each single ticket available.

Now, we have the broadband now, so you would think the odds of being one of those lucky few were increased. But any way you look at it, we're talking a fairly anxious few hours of phone and internet bashing.

Perhaps in retrospect going out clubbing on Saturday night and not getting in until 2.30am was not the best course of action. But despite this, I was up and poised well before the 9 o'clock kick-off.

So I sat at my desk, vaguely hungover and possibly still a bit tiddly, constantly refreshing a webpage my computer seemed completely unwilling to accept, calling E, who was trying from a different source, with rising panic in my voice.

There's no way I would have got them through this bloody machine. But fortunately, E's housemate's sister (yes, this is how it apparently works) managed to get a connection at her friend's work and bought them all for us.

So I'm one of the people floating around happily safe in the knowledge that I'm going to Glastonbury baby!

On the downside, when I got home at 2.30am on Sunday morning I discovered my tyre was completely flat. I pumped it up last night, removed the pump to admire my handiwork and listened to the hissing rush of air gently coming out of my tyre.

Poo. As I am completely unable to change a tyre (how are you supposed to know how to do this if no-one's ever showed you?) and HF is even more inept when it comes to such things, I'm going to have to get the AA to come out and put my spare tyre on or at least tow me to the nearest tyre shop. Damn it. Should really have done it this morning (I'm working late shifts all this week) but for the first time in days last night I had the opportunity to have more than four hours sleep and at the time this seemed rather more important. So tomorrow, then.

In other news, I am considering getting a contract mobile phone. I have resisted this for some time (seemed entirely unnecessary) but as I am now using my phone quite a lot for work I think it's just going to make things rather easier. I bloody hate phone companies, though.

Oh, and by the way, the chef called at about 7.30pm last night. Ironically enough, I was cutting up chicken ready to cook a delicious pie at the time.

More on that story later.