"I said I'd been away, and he knew, oh he knew the depths I was meaning."

Just as I was about to complain about the complete lack of new blog posts on this website, I'm greeted with a bountiful amount of new reading material on my dashboard. And who am I to deny myself the right to jump on the bandwagon and catch all 7 of my followers up with my magnificently dull life?

It's been over two months since my last update and I won't lie, a lot has changed. There have been a few memorable experiences, the most recent of which being my second year of attending T in the Park.

It's a four day -five if you're 'hardcore'- event that combines so many of my favourite things; live music, good company, so so many cans of kopparberg mixed fruits, and a good heavy (very almost constant) downpour of Scottish rain. I spent far too many hours of the long weekend feigning a broad Glaswegian accent, yelling quotations from the Inbetweeners desperately hoping they'd catch on throughout the campsite, and getting myself well and truly caked in the surrounding mud culminated from thousands of drunken feet dragging themselves through the field. I've talked about escapism before on this blog, and I doubt I'll ever stop referring to that feeling, but it's something that was very prominent in my mind throughout my entire time in the former airfield of Balado. I must admit that once I was pushed through the side of a massive tent and lost my beautiful and dearly missed phone in the murky abyss beneath my feet, my sense of freedom only grew. There's something about being completely immersed in a horde of muddy music lovers, so detached from the outside world, that fills you with a incredible sense of.. floopyness. Just, not quite being there. But being aware of it at the same time and loving every second of it. If that doesn't make sense then you have idea what I'm referring to and I pity you. I mean sure it's comforting to know I'm only a borrowed phone call or an hours drive away from home, but to feel so distant from the harsh reality of the city if only for 4 days is such a release. You forget all the mundane stresses of everyday life, and just manage to lose yourself in the overwhelming volume of music and the crowd of unshowered strangers who you know feel the exact same way you do. Of course many of them are off their faces on illegal highs so they're in a completely different place mentally but it's an altogether merry atmosphere regardless of the toxins running through your blood stream.. To be perfectly honest despite the incredible live performances from so many great artists (I did not go to see Nicki Minaj so I can't comment on that one), the one thing that will stick out for me over the weekend is the time I spent with my fellow "happy campers", and the hilarious strangers we met along the way. Of course the music is a vital factor in festivals and something I enjoy immensely, but those live renditions will be played over and over for years to come. Those personal hilarious and often emotional moments you spend with a few delightful people in a flooded tent? Oh, those are special. And even if the original intent was nothing of the sort, it's what events like T end up contributing to our lives.
Roll on July 2013.

(I also recently finally read The Fault In The Stars. As I fully expected, it deserves it's own blog post once I read it again. Absolute roller coaster of a novel.)