Life Lesson Learned: If you want to go to the fucking gig, get tickets for the fucking gig.

I love a good gig. There is very little, sex aside, that can top that nervy feeling of euphoria when you’re waiting for your favourite band to come onstage at your favourite gig venue. Same goes for howling along to your favourite lyrics or hanging on the every word of the lead singer… Gigs are just awesome. As a rule, I’ve had a terrible habit in the past of finding tickets of gigs that I really want to go to, then spending way too long deliberating about buying the tickets – only to lose them and be faced with buying them off eBay for stupid prices, or wait for their next tour. This unfortunate situation occurred last year when I was looking to buy tickets to see one of my favourite artists – Laura Marling.

Marling's "When The Bell Tolls" tour poster.

Obligatory Introductory Post.

It’s been around three long years since I last had a proper, written blog and, given I’m an Undergraduate English Language student – it’s a bit lax. There isn’t a particular theme for this blog, more an excuse for me to exercise my brain a little and an outlet for me to bitch and moan about things that irk me, or to gush over the things I love.

For a current example, I’d quite happily write a post bitching about the fact that I have an essay due on the 20th and a huge book that corresponds with it, that I cannot be bothered reading. Conversely, I’d write an ‘on-the-fence’ post about Lana Del Rey – a hot topic of discussion at the moment – blurring the lines between indie and pop mainstream, one shot of Botox at a time. Finally, if I were to write a post about something I currently love, it’d be about The Civil Wars, or the joys of Student Finance and the January Sales.

Today, however, I think I have to concentrate on the damn essay…