Thursday: Got up at 08:30 after about four hours' sleep. Rushed to finish off my packing. At midday, only two hours later than planned, The Emperor Penguin (henceforth to be referred to as TEP, for convenience's sake) arrived and we loaded up the car. We drove to Iceland (the shop, not the country) where he and Donald went to stock up on food and beer while I guarded the car from traffic wardens, as we were parked in a residents only section. Several traffic wardens approached and wandered right by. One came up to the front of the car and looked it over suspiciously. Not knowing what else to do, I just peered out at her pathetically and fluttered my eyelashes. She went away. Thank God for new mascara.
Despite the late start, we made good time on our journey and arrived in Whitby just prior to five o'clock, just as This Corrosion came on the tape; we drove past the Elsinore and waved to those outside. Got to our flat, a penthouse apartment on Royal Crescent just opposite the Spa, with gorgeous views out across the sea to the east and across the harbour to the ancient abbey in the west. I then ran down to the Elsinore to look for duchess rufus and BlackZ, who were supposed to be staying with us. They were nowhere to be found. After disentangling mself from numerous other people, including a very exuberant Iona (how the hell did she manage to drink that much in so little time?) I went home to slip into something less comfortable in time for the evening's festivities. TEP returned to the pub to find the others later; it turned out that they'd become stuck on their train, as it only stopped in Whitby for one minute and they needed that long to retrieve their bags; they'd had to take a bus across the hills from Darlington. They were tired, but relieved to have made it. Presents were given and I bounced at getting to meet a new netgoth IRL.
As dusk fell, we went back to the pub, took a few photos, and thence progressed to the Buck Inn, which was hosting a 'warm-up' night. There we found our Edingoth friends who were also living in our block of flats. This was a relief, as Paul Crowley was the only person to understand my 'Fuck the K Foundation' t-shirt (well, the closest I could stand to a t-shirt, which was shiny lycra-type stuff full of holes stretched over a dress made from zips), which I'd spent two hours making. He was very sleepy, so I hugged him and finished his pint. rufus and I caught up on gossip, then we all went back to the flat (Edingoths in tow) to stuff our faces with imported junk food (I finally got to eat funyuns!) and generally get wasted on monosodium glutamate. Nik Strychnine made sculptures from cheetos and squirty cheese. Donald and TEP, who disapprove of these things, sat at a distance making faces and complaining about the smell. We all read in awe the ingrdients list on the Armour Potted Meat Food Product (which BlackZ said had been rejected by a dog) but agreed it was a display item only. Everyone crashed out at about 3am, eager to regain their energy in time for the next day of fun.
Friday: I woke up at about 09:00 on Friday morning because of the bright light streaming through the flimsy curtains; dragged myself out of bed, pulled on purple stripes and polka dots and went to watch shite morning television in the living room while doing my make-up. At about 11:00, when TEP was ready to accompany me, we headed down to the Bizarre Bazaar to exchange our tickets for icky little orange wristbands and to begin a hard day's shopping. I had intended to get myself a plain waspie to wear over dresses, but they were all too big or vastly too expensive; likewise I'd been contemplating purchasing a wig, but those available cost lots because they 'won't look like wigs'. Sigh. Fuck that. I have no problem with looking artificial - I'm a fucking goth, amn't I?
With the money that I would have spent on those things (heh heh) I bought lots of other stuff, justifying some of it on account of it being second hand and therefore a bargain (and of course the fact that the second hand stall was presided over by a particularly cute female had nothing to do with it, oh no...) Eventually Donald turned up and I persuaded him to let us buy him a couple of shirts. I spent the latter part of the afternoon in the flat sewing to finish off my dress for the evening, a chorus-line style number with black sequins and net. Evening gloves completed the look and usefully concealed the horrid bruises all over my hands from punching eyelets into cloth.
The Spa was pretty crowded; I waited so long in the bar queue that other people took pity on me and bought me pints. I hung out with Eleanor and was delighted to hear that she's getting married in August; they make a lovely couple. Later in the evening, I finally got to meet Johnny V, and I have to agree with what I've heard said about C5, that, well, one talks to people online and thinks they're pretty cool, and everyone says 'they won't be like that IRL' - well, fuck no! Netgoths are far cooler IRL every time. jv is much smilier and bouncier than I had expected, but no less evil, all of which is good; he was lots of fun to hang out with.
I wandered in and out of the band room all night, but was annoyed at managing to miss all of Ed Alleyne Johnson's set, the thing I had et, the thing I had most wanted to see (even if his wife was said to be reading crap poetry over the top of it). I danced to lots of the DJs' stuff and sort of accidentally attracted a very enthusiastic guy who might have been cute without his beard, and was fun to dance with, but when I did the falling to the floor bit at the end of the Timewarp it was Coeur who caught me, and then I just forgot about the other guy, and we danced and just hugged each other during the shite songs and I alternated between feeling wonderful and feeling really angry with myself for letting the former feelings escape again. I decided I must find a proper cure, because I miss him too much. I went back into the main room and got TEP and Donald to hit me on the head, which they did quite hard, thanks to alcohol, but I guess it didn't serve to destroy the right bits. So, when we got back up to the flat I ate lots of easy cheese in the hope of inducing brain damage that way instead. I talked lots with rufus and jv and many other cool people, about all kinds of wierd things, and that did make me feel much better. Got to sleep about 4am.
Saturday:I woke up about 09:00 again, due to the light, and felt wide awake for about an hour before succumbing to a desperate need for sugar. Must have been the MSG. I pulled on my ocelot dress, poured lots of irn bru down my throat and went out to the bazaar again. While there, I got very dizzy and weak, and realised I was quite anaemic, so I had to go back and eat more and rest for a couple of hours. Luckily I did make it back to the shops in time to find some cool stuff. Rocky Horror was on that afternoon, but I didn't go, as I'm doing too many shows here in Scotland these days, and it's too much like work. rufus and BlackZ went; the latter looked very different in his fluffy blonde wig and string of pearls. I took advantage of the bar being quiet. ;)
Saturday evening is always the height of the Whitby festivities, when everyone tries to look their best. The Spa that night was full of suits of armour, rennaissance court wear and long medieval gowns, a sort of accidental theme; I had a chain-mail bikini and my hair in pigtails, so I decided I should take on the role of barbarian. Lots of people told me about the impressive swords they had at home which would compliment my outfit. BlackZ, however, outdid everyone in the appearance stakes as Open Head Wound Man, after an accident with a cupboard door. Many people said they were impressed by this, and were relieved because it made their various injuries look more discreet. Except for Trizia, who had a frighteningly huge, livid bruise across her arm after a fall on Thursday night, and scared people in the toilets with it.
Saturday night was enormous fun. It was strange to see the reversal in the usual Coeur and Lilevilmandikinz situation - he was relatively sober, though perhaps he needed to be to balance in six inch clear plastic heels, but she had given up being the responsible one and drank at least twelve pints of cider, many of which had several vodkas in them. She had turned her flat into a House of Hate where they did nothing but drink, bitch, and take photographs of people's chins. At some point, Donald was dumb enough to invite her to punch him in the arm. Of her thirty punches, only five or so landed, but they left rather spectacular dark grey marks.
Things were less pleasant in the middle of the evening when some dumb ponygoff bitches stole our seats. Now, if they'd asked, fair enough; if they'd come over, sat down and been friendly or sociable, fair enough; but they just took the seats which were obviously ours and then gave us nasty looks. Whenever one of them stood up, her man would instantly take the seat. At one point, a seat became free, and Paul, quite innocent of there being any trouble, tried to take it, bumping off one of the ponies who was trying to sit there at the same time. Because of this, one of the males took it upon himself to threaten Paul. Paul is wee and delicate and ladylike, and threatening him is absolutely not allowed. It's probably lucky I wasn't there at the time or there would have been a fight. When I got back and heard what had happened I made it very clear how pissed off I was, as did everyone else stopping by. Eventually the dickheads left, and later they did actually apologise to Paul; the latter I respect them for, because that can take a lot of guts, but all the same, people should have some goddamn manners.
As a result of this, as well as other general rudeness encountered during the weekend, my tolerance for ponygoffs decreased greatly. I am tired of being fluffy and funny and giggling along. From now on I am making no secret of how irritating I find the majority of them. I never could stand people who think it's cool to try and be less intelligent than they are, and there's a nasty fashion for that there too.
Again, I didn't make it to most of the band performances, though I did sit on the edge of the stage for a while during Manuskript's set and take photos. That was fun - they have improved in the last two years. I danced a wee bit, but most of the night was dedicated to drinking, especially as Giolla had that lovely home-made absinthe again. Yum. When things wound down, I made arrangements to go up to the graveyard with jv and TEP, but then I sort of accidentally stumbled into Lamia, whom I'd liked for about eight months but been too shy to do anything about, and, um, well, I'm not sure who started it, but things certainly changed. She couldn't finish her beer, so I helped. I got so distracted kissing her that my things were collected by a bouncer and handed in as lost property, though luckily I was able to retrieve them. We staggered outside, where I had difficulty balancing in four inch stilettos with her falling all over me and the world generally wobbling in that cruel way it does after some evenings in the bar; there was some rolling about on concrete involved; we still planned to go to the graveyard, but her enthusiasm for that dwindled as we wandered back to my place, so Giolla and Kieran helped us get as far as hers and moved her room-mate out of the double bed; not long afterwards we agreed that we were both so drunk that passing out seemed the best option, and that didn't take many seconds more.
Sunday: I was dreaming something mundane about shopping and the sea. Then I woke up and concluded that I must have just been awake and just fallen asleep, because next to me was this stunning woman whom I would never have had the guts to chat up while sober. She was fast asleep; my eyes ached so much with dehydration that I could scarcely keep them open, but I just lay there and looked at her and wondered at this change in my luck. She went downstairs for breakfast and then we lay around comparing hangovers. Just to confuse, please and overwhelm me more, it seemed this might turn into a continuing thing, and she only lives an hour away from me. Everything suddenly seemed very shiny.
I staggered home in the early afternoon, took a bath and attempted to dye my hair red, though as usual it hardly took at all. rufus helped me put my hair in curlers, then we hastened down to Trenchers for the netgoth meal. I was amazed by how much and how easily I ate. This is not normal for me - I think I'm getting healthy or something. :) Afterwards we went to stomp on spiders; I equalled my previous score and the others did fairly well for beginners. There wasn't much time left after that, however, to run back to the flat and tart up for 'eighties night. Donald, rufus and -bat helped take my curlers out in the queue; -bat kept some as payment and had fun secretly attaching them to people later in the night; but my hair looked less Molly Ringwald and more Axl Rose, so it was lucky I got my request, 'Pretty in Pink', played early to make the point about the dress I had carefully created. 'Eighties night rules. I leapt about and danced much as usual, but then, alas, I suffered an asthma attack. I blame it on Iggy Pop. Damn it, I've only ever had two attacks in my life before. Luckily, a kind friend of GothPat's (whose name I ought to remember, but, alas, I wasn't thinking so clearly at the time) lent me an inhaler, which helped a lot. I went onto the steps to try and relax and do breathing exercises for a while. Tal and Coeur were very sweet and looked after me. Lots of other people stopped to see if I was okay and to offer me their own inhalers. My faith in humanity was restored, as I was reminded that there are many very excellent goths out there of all types, and when I have the energy I should try to give them the appreciation they deserve. If any are reading, thank you hugely.
rufus was getting a little stressed with the crowds, so she took breaks too, which was cool as it gave us more chance to talk, and I wouldn't see her again IRL for ages. I also encountered a certain person telling me how his heart was broken, but I managed to be sympathetic, and to stifle the instinctive 'You had a heart? Since when? Did you get it in the bazaar? Was it going cheap in the sales?' that first sprung into my head. I can work on this being a nice person thing. I hung out upstairs for ages with jv and we laughed at various people on the dancefloor. ;) Got to see Scary Lady Sarah and meet her fiancee, which was cool.
Much cheesy metal was played downstairs, which was lots of fun. Giolla was really sweet and used elbows and nails to create a space where I could dance without my fragile lungs being suffocated. I was impressed with how tuneful the goth crowd's singing was when the record was briefly turned off. When Paradise City came on, I accidentally managed to create a ten foot space with my hair, just by whipping people in the face while moshing; that was fun. Best of all, because I'd been out of the way and resting, I had lots of energy left to slamdance to Nellie the Elephant at the very end.
Everyone else wandered off on their separate ways after strange conversations in which TEP almost bought a yacht and a certain Edingoth confessed to a lifelong crush on Miss Piggy. I walked home alone; Joe (Fuzzy Dave's brother) stopped me along the way to warn me that I should be careful, as he'd heard there were goths about; unfortunately I didn't manage to fall prey to any cute ones. ;) Lamia had to get a train early the next morning, so I figured I should leave her to sleep.
Monday: On Monday morning, the fog came down. I got up and looked out of the window. I couldn't see the houses opposite. I walked through to the living room window. I couldn't see the grass down below. TEP awoke on the couch and we ate some chocolate and decided the best course of action was to go to the pub.
In the pub, Coeur and Lilevilmandikinz were positioned as usual, amid photos and beer. We looked through the first lot of photos, then I went shopping. I got chocolates for Aidan and a squeezy plastic 'vomiting penguin' for TEP. Lyssa made me promise to slap Aidan for not turning up, which has since been done.
Late in the afternoon, Donald turned up. He had woken in a farmhouse on the outskirts of town with a local transsexual, unable to see anything outside for the fog, surrounded by occult paraphenalia and evil looking cats. He drank tea and met three generations of the family who lived there, then wandered into the blankness in search of the long lost pub. It was a relief to us all that no hundred foot cliff intervened along his way, as there are a lot of them about in Whitby. He got a key and went back to the flat to eat fried things.
That evening there was nothing in particular going on. We'd been planning to invite remaining goths back to ours to drink good whisky, but Coeur was off being miserable, Lilevilmandikinz seemed tired, and among the others were the two tossers who'd given us hassle on Saturday, who were in no way welcome; a shame, as their flatmate was cute, seemed cool to talk to and was getting on well with TEP. We ended up just sitting in the Elsinore awhile, looking at some more photos and then going back on our own.
The electricity cut out while we were sitting around talking there. No-one had a pound coin for the meter (which had seemed quite full earlier), and in Whitby, it being the back of beyond really, there are no useful 24 hour shops or even garages, so we had to sit in the dark.
In the morning, TEP went to a newsagent to get a pound coin so I could have a bath and get all the aquanet and allergens off of me. I did feel better afterwards, though many more bruises surfaced as a result. We were completely unable to contact the landlady, so we had to just pack up the car and go. We made good time back to Glasgow, and it was only when we were almost home that one of the wheels started making a scary noise and we thought the car was going to break. Luckily it wasn't anything serious. So, we got back home and hugged Aidan and gossipped and fell over; and I logged on; and now, your intrepid reporter is almost done.
Epilogue: This Whitby has to have been my very favourite Whitby ever. I was really happy, not just having fun. I am still really happy as a result of everything that has happened. I got three dresses, two basques, two bras, two tops, several new best friends in the world ever and a very fine woman indeed; so what's a few injuries? I might take this elastoplast off in a bit and see if my finger is working again. I wonder when the dehydration illnesses will hit. Ah well. Hopefully jv will visit tomorrow, and that'll keep me busy till Friday, when it's Bedlam, and then there'll be Sanctuary and it's only a month or so till Pride and after that there'll be the goth-run Edinburgh BiCon; ah, life is one long goth party. Now all I have to do is figure out how to make myself look Respectable for my business meeting tomorrow night. Heh. Back to work.
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Last updated 13th May, 2005