letter eleven to rahel: what’s up, buttercup?

rahel, oh favourite lobster of mine (so not kosher. and i couldn’t care less)

it has been a week of musical highest heights. like, so high, it almost feels strange to be lying in my bed and not standing in a small space surrounded by sweaty strangers singing my lungs out. but first things first.

MARION IS HAVING A BAAAAABBBBBYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i mean, i know you already know. and you know i know you know. but i’ve been keeping this secret for so long that i now take advantage of every chance i get to tell people. even ones who already know. god, i am so ridiculously excited. like, so so so stoked. too excited. ok. i’m ok. i can breathe again. inhale… exhale… rach, you need to have babies, do you hear me? not right now, but i can’t wait that much longer to be the crazy auntie who tells your kids what shenanigans their mum and i used to be up to.

it’s insane how much in sync we are at the moment! reading your last letter (which i loved, as i have already told you) reconfirmed that once more. you know how you mentioned your friday night being dominated by glitter? (of course you do) basically i went to a space themed party. fancy dress. i felt like wearing a metallic silver dress wasn’t quite enough, so i decided to glitter up my face a bit. and in the process of that my whole life, really. i bought some loose glitter in tubes, choosing a silver one to match the dress. the idea was to put it onto the tops of my cheekbones. like in good ol’ roskilde times. and it all went according to plan. until, well, i dropped the tube. a. whole. tube. of. glitter. i kid you not, there must’ve been more individual glitter particles in that thing than there are grains of sand in all the seas. and it was everywhere. EVERYWHERE, i tell you; all over myself (not that it showed up too much on the dress), all over my laptop (where i started watching “how to get away with murder” and am lurving it), all over my bathroom. i must’ve stood there in stunned silence for a couple of seconds, only to burst out into laughter at the glittery mess that now was my life. long story short, i tried cleaning it up to my best abilities, but i am still finding glitter everywhere; on the floor, my face, all over da place. oh well. glitter makes most things better, i concluded.


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tuesday was a beautiful day. super beautiful. spring-beautiful. so beautiful, that i grabbed me some murakami, a pillow and some shades and sat on my roof for an hour, reading, meditating and sunbathing. tuesday also was soaksday. i’m still a bit upset we didn’t get to see her back at roskilde. i really think you would’ve liked her. we still can see her, obvs. some day. paulina and i met in front of koko at 7 pm sharp and made our way inside. paulina had never been to koko and in fact hadn’t been to a gig in five (!) years (how, i ask you. how?), so i gave her a lil’ tour. koko is probably my favourite venue ever, so much so, that i added “headline at koko” to my bucket list. i’d genuinely much rather play koko than wembley. upon hearing about this addition, marco promised that if that ever happens, he’ll make sure to attend and throw his bra on stage. yay. there were two support acts, there first of which, a blonde and rather androgynous girl called stevie parker, immediately was crushed upon by paulina. the second girl, however. my, oh my. billie marten. a voice of honey. truly. neither paulina nor i said a single word during her whole set. magical. truly. and then soak came on, so much rougher and grittier than billie’s voice of velvet, but nonetheless amazing. at some point paulina didn’t seem to be quite capable of deciding whom she had more of a crush on, stevie or soak. other than the music, with a kick drum to kill, i was rather mesmerised by a tattoo on soak’s right forearm. upon further inspection the swooning paulina and my humble self came to the conclusion that it must be some sort of hammer. i’ll insert a photo below, so you can give me your opinion on it, but i kid you not, from afar it looked like a penis. really obviously so. which would’ve been rather ironic. anyway. good night.


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not as good, however, as last night. last night was sumthin’ else. half moon run. sweet baby jesus. it was almost too much. after marco somehow managed to get on the wrong bus, sprinted back to the station, finally got on the right bus bringing him to chalk farm station where i was waiting impatiently, we made our way to roundhouse (the roundhouse? i never know). i think my exuberant excitement transferred to marco a bit and he even participated in the traditional fingerirgendwieusverseheandebrüschtchräbele, which, as we all know, is part of going to a gig with me, after i accidentally groped louanne years ago at that one passenger concert. already the support act were lovely, the lead singer looking like either a slightly more long-haired version of adam driver, or a 70s porn star, depending on the light (massive shout out to scotty who was the lighting guy. sheesh, that man knew what he was doing). and then, half moon run. those harmonies. the fact that they all play multiple instruments. at the same time. the harmonies. how adorable they are. devon’s arms (after he took off his long-sleeved something and was standing there in one of those really loose massive armhole thingies i’m not usually too fond of, they were all i kept looking at. marco agreed that he instantly got probably 83% hotter). the harmonies. i made friends with a father and son behind me, both of which knew ALL the lyrics (even better than i did. which is a rather unusual occurrence), which, of course, i had to comment on. they both seemed rather impressed by the fact that i had known the band for years (remember when we first saw them? back in that tent in summer? where we’d also see ben howard sometime later?) it was too adorable for me to cope. the gig was insane. they played all my favourites, even “full circle”, which i had been waiting for and ultimately ended up being their last encore. well, the penultimate one, for when the crowd was already leaving, they came back once more to play one final song with the support act (i sent you a wee video of it), and it might have been one of the best things i ever seen. i wasn’t the only one utterly overwhelmed, yelling “tuuuuuuuune” before almost each, well, tune; about an hour into the gig a girl went past us with her friend looking rather unwell. just as i turned to marco saying i hoped she was fine, the poor thing collapsed right behind us. her friend looked on the verge of tears so i told her i’d get help, and went off to dart through the crowd, earning some rather annoyed looks. oh well. sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. i mean, i ain’t sayin’ i’m a hero, but kinda. (i jest) i alerted some of the staff and got some water. when i got back, she had already gone. oh well. marco was impressed and i had been thirsty anyway. so it’s all good. i truly cannot wait to go see them with you again. there’s just something extra special about going to gigs with you.


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fret not, i haven’t forgotten about the book in all that musical and meteorological excitement. although i don’t have much to say. we’re nearing the end. slowly but surely. version one jim now has another kid with bella (snitch), although the two of them are no longer together. version three jim and eva don’t seem to be doing too badly, at least not with one another, just life. version two jim is a granddad. i’m wondering whether there’s a truly happy ending for any of the versions. i hope so.


i also hope you’re doing splendidly.

i love you



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