I heart headphones

Travelling on public transport is getting really old. I'm starting to dread getting on the bus for an hour and a half in the morning, knowing that I'll probably fall asleep with marks on my face and my knees rammed up against the seat in front. Undoubtedly I'll wake up with some old man or fit boy looking at me blinking in the stupid 8am sunshine when I've already been awake for almost three hours. Some days I'll spend £2 on a coffee to keep me awake for the awful journey but then I always spill it on my hands or jeans and end up sticky and smelling like starbucks.

Then there's the journey home. I usually make the 6.30pm bus, sometimes I don't and have to get the one at 7pm, but that doesn't matter. It's always full of old people. And old people smell, and eat biscuits, and smell. I love putting on my head phones. Noise reduction ones that feel like earplugs, but with Belaire, or Rilo Kiley, or TV on the Radio or even the Postal Service when it's been a really bad day. They drown out every single sound without having to resort to top volume. People don't talk to me, or even look at me, even a baby in the next seat can't compete with my lovely sound stopping headphones.

But people still smell. I can take noise, I've got the headphones to tackle it, I can not look at people, my eyes can close. But I still haven't found a way to get over the stench of other people on the bus. I try to sit on my own, but someone always sits in the seat in front or behind. They usually start gobbing or coughing and it makes me feel sick so I turn Avril up even louder and ignore it. But then I can smell them, usually the sweat and stale smell of the great unwashed, why does it bother me so much, I tried to eat mints and kill the smell from the inside. It didn't work. I thought that maybe because my hearing was so drowned out that my sense of smell was heightened. I took out the ear plugs and stared out of the window but the greasy forehead of a teenage goth before had marked the window and I thought I could smell that too. With nothing to distract me the stench got worse. And the bus was hot. So it gets worse again.

I don't know what to do, I can ignore many, many things. But I can't ignore the smell. And I can't wait until I never have to get the bus to Edinburgh again. The rich people are getting the train and the plebs are on the bus. With me, and I hate them.

Rilo Kiley are making me nervous

It's been a while since I've had a favorite band. Like a favorite over all others, like 'ohmy godifIeversawthisbandliveIwouldcrybecauseIlovethemsomuch!' And that's how I talk when I love a band. What do you mean you haven't heard of TillyandtheWall or RiloKiley?

But this summer, after 3 solid years of me loving Rilo Kiley, they are FINALLY releasing a new album. And they're getting slightly huge, and it's worrying me. I'm going to see them at Connect Festival which has ruled me out of going to see any of their other gigs across the country. (They're not coming to Scotland again, racists) They're also touring all over the world promoting their new album, which hasn't even been leaked on the internet yet (come on people I need to learn the words) which means they won't be back here like ever.

That's not the most worrying part. What if everyone else starts liking them as well? I'll be the idiot who's like "yah, well, I've loved them ever since their 2004 album 'More Adventurous' came out, and I've got their first ever EP, what did you say your name was again?' and then I'll look like a dick and they won't be my friend. It won't be that joyous occasion where you find someone who loves a total unheard of band as much as you do and then you can listen to 'Portions for Foxes' over and over when you're drunk together. It's the basis of many beautiful friendships. Well at least 3.

I know it's selfish, but I want Rilo Kiley to myself. I want me and my friends to like them but not you. It's not that I want people to say 'who?' when I tell them my favourite band and it's not that I don't want them to do well. I don't want them to get massive, then rubbish, then everyone will like them and I won't anymore. But what if I do and they bring out more albums and do more gigs and then they sell out and I can't go. I'm their biggest fan. I need to be there.

There's nothing you can do about it now.

As I was sat on the bus this morning dreading the 90 minute journey from Glasgow to Edinburgh because I forgot to bring a book and my ipod battery died just after my newest headphones broke. I was staring out of the window in fear at what terrors were about to fall on me. Like I'd have to just look out the window at the M8 for an hour, or stare at the clock that was reading 1812 at quarter to eight in the morning, or I could look directly at one of the four security cameras that are so unnervingly places next to the air conditioning. But worst of all, I was scared that someone might actually talk to me, or catch my eye and horror of horrors, look at me when I had no where else to look. I've seen many sights on the Citylink between Glasgow and Edinburgh so trust me. A distraction is just necessary.

As a last ditch attempt at something to look at, I pulled out my notebook and started reading all my notes for work. It's really just a square lined jotter with phone numbers, to do lists and website addresses, but on the second page I found this. Which I thought was very fitting. It made me smile, think 'I suppose it's not such a bad day' And then I fell asleep and woke up as we were passing Edinburgh Zoo. So here is what I found. I wrote this.

Not waiting, no expectations, just a whole lot of travelling. Not the stressful part where you part with your hard earned cash. Not the part where you have to be constantly alert, waiting for your platform to be announced, then finding it just in time to realise you don't have a ticket and the ticket office is all the way on the other side of the station... And closed.

Travelling isn't a stressful business really. It's exciting. The "in transit' bit is like another world. Sitting staring out of the bus window, in a perfectly controlled temperature or even better, flying 30,000 feet above the ground with your phone switched off, your life is in someone else's hands and it's blissful surrendering it to them with your boarding pass.

No one talks to each other either, (unless you're shoehorned into a megabus which is another story for another day) that suits me just fine. I'm not on the bus to make friends. I'm here to get from A to B, probably via C, D, G, X and S on the way. But that's ok too, it doesn't matter what route your chosen vehicle takes. It's the being in Limbo that matters. The not really doing anything but being swiftly carried to your destination. Once you've handed over your ticket and stepped aboard, there's not much else you can do. Everything is outwith your control, if you forget that your life is in someone elses hands and it could all go horribly wrong and there's nothing you can do about it you can travel in blissful ignorance.

Have a pleasant onward journey.

New Hair, No Desk and Alcohol Breath

Oh the life of a journalist, I was at the lovely 'Hey You Get Off My Pavement' yesterday outside the even lovely-er Mono in the not so lovely rain. So now I'm feeling back to normal (I think I was still drunk when I woke up) but ever so slightly concerned about the fact that I slept in and didn't have time for a shower this morning. I'm trying desperately not to move about too much, I've smelt alcohol on people before and it's not pretty! I don't think I smell, but you know. I might.

Also it was my new hair cut's debut at work today and it looks slightly dishevelled, half of the reason being standing outside in the rain all day yesterday and the other half of the reason is that I fell asleep on the bus. For the WHOLE journey. That's like nearly an hour and a half. And I missed my stop and had to walk all the way from the bus station. It was a good wee sleep though, better than sleeping on the train where people look at you and stuff.

So here I am without a desk (I borrow from those who aren't in work, but during the festival it seems that everyone likes to show face!) Looking for a partner in crime to see Simon Amstell (YUM) on Saturday night, preferably someone who won't mind when he decides that he's no longer gay and is in love with me and I have to run away to Spain with him.

Any takers?

So here we are again

So I'm back at the List, imagine that! I always said it was my dream job, my ambition was to do just this. So what next? I guess anything else in the future is just going to be a bonus but how to build on a dream come true!

It is pretty amazing if I'm honest, I just wish I was as busy as everyone else seems to be, although I think they're keeping me free to do all the jobs they don't want to do. Which is fine by me, it's all a novelty when you're still in your second week.

My only problem right now is that I've got my own office. Well, it's not mine, but I'm the only one who uses it all day. Freelancers pop in on occasion, but last night was the List's festival party so I doubt we'll see much of them today. I'm stuck in the attic office with the beams in the ceiling and the beautiful window that opens onto the roof looking down onto a courtyard at the back of the building. I know, it's a tough life.

I'd still prefer to be downstairs in the thick of things, like the work experience folks are. I'm papped off to the side to get on with it and I'm still not exactly sure what 'it' is that I'm supposed to be doing!

And I'm finding my own company very distracting, that and myspace, and my emails and the fact that I've suddenly been locked out of my Facebook account. That's annoying. I'm not bored though, because only boring people get bored, you know that. And I am getting on with my work it's just that I don't feel like I'm doing quite as much work as everyone else is, and it's lonely up here in the lovely office with my own computer, phone, toilet, water cooler and occasional freelance friend.

I have managed to get my wee name in the mag again though, here it is: http://www.list.co.uk/article/2558-kids-are-alright/

You're going to have to copy and paste that baby into your browser because for some reason, the wee linkthing has dissappeared. So of I go back to the good ship editorial assistant (who's not actually in the editorial office, but in the freelance office, not doing anything freelance) hmm and lunchtime, List festival party last night has left me with some considerable muncies. I've eaten my yogurt and my nutrigrain it's off to Greggs for me. Sausage Roll party.