Monday - Sat down, put pen to paper and designed costume for Halloween. Got excited about being a squatterbitch black cat.
Wednesday - Made Black Leather Cat Ears (out of old leather coat). Leather was so tough that needle had to be rammed through material by pushing it with the force of a chair. Took an hour, and my fingers hurt.
Thursday - Ran out and bought Dita Knickers with attached suspenders from Ann Summers, and pvc fingerless gloves. I was getting wet at the thought of dressing like a cat, complete with ripped stockings and bushy black and white tail.
Friday - Spent 2 hours applying bruise makeup, collar bone shadows, sewing Cat Ears to my dreadlocks, ripping up stockings and painting alleycat scratches onto the exposed skin surfaces, painting a nose and whiskers on my face with liquid eyeliner, and then setting out into the night with a lack of anything material based covering my body, on the frosty streets of Halloween : London.
Arrived at 'Sin', on my way to Club Antichrist (where it usually is). Wasnt sure what to expect from a straight 'Fetish, Goth and Industrial' Playspace, complete with Dungeon and stage performances, but was willing to give it a go. Except - it wasnt at Sin. POPSTARZ was at Sin. Tried to find an internet cafe, tried to text friends who were also out, tried to find SOMETHING that was free. To no avail. Nobody responded to my texts. Felt unloved and gutted... :(
Freezing, hungry, sober and numb, we returned home...
Our only consolation was some slow fucking in my warm bed.
No matter... we have tomorrow to look forward to...
Saturday - Woke up - let down, but energised. Left at 10pm. The biggest squat party of the year, 'ScumoWeen', was happening tonight. Eager to go and happy to try and salvage the weekend I celebrate the most, we set off (after getting into my cat costume for the second time). Got to Dalston. NOBODY was at the squat. I still hadnt recieved any texts. I turned off my phone, smashed it against the floor, and turned it on again. 11 TEXTS HAD ALL BEEN WAITING TO ENTER MY PHONE FROM CYBERSPACE. Flabberghasted, I saw there were texts from the friends i'd had written to directing me to a party etc, making me feel even more miserable. I had a text saying there was a free gig on Church Street. We went down there. IT HAD FINISHED. No matter - we went back to Dalston. It was raining and cold. The squatters turned up at 1am. We left at 2am. Called partyline for Scum-O-Ween - party was on....
HANGER LANE... >:(
Fucking hell. Journey planner said 2.5 hours.
We said 'ok, lets do it, it'll be amazing.'
38 to Angel, 205 to Baker Street, N18 to Hanger Lane.
20 min walk to industrial estate.
2.5 hours later from when we had set off, we were there.
All MDMA'd up, high as a kite, and (suprisingly) in good spirits.
IT WAS LIKE A MOB. FULL. WAS NOW A LOCK IN.
There were CROWDS of people saying they'd been queuing for over 4 HOURS. We tried to find a back entrance, we tried to climb over walls, but nothing worked. Not only that - but you had to pay TEN QUID to get in, as well as there being 7 FUCKING SOUND SYSTEMS IN ONE ROOM???!!!
Defeated, cold, 5am - we left.
Back to the squat, another 2 hours later. Hungry, tired... having spend Halloween on the buses, in full costume, all weekend.
NEVER GO TO SCUMOWEEN.
ITS FUCKING BULLSHIT.
NOTE TO SELF AND EVERYONE ELSE.
Dont just take my word for it...
The weekend that London Let Me Down. *cries*