The night John Grant gave me a hug

Sunday 23rd December 2014. I waited in the freezing cold for an hour and a half. But it was worth every second!

We'll start with the concert...

John Grant and the Royal Northern Sinfonia were stunning. I knew before I went that at some point during the night I would be crying. I hadn't counted on it being during nearly every song. The emotion John imbues in his performances is on another level. His barefaced and unashamed honesty hits you like a brick wall, but the poetry of his complex yet straightforward lyrics and music washes over you like a wave. The songs possess a somewhat grandiose quality, greatly enhanced by the orchestra. Evocative and original metaphors give the songs such life. Yet at the same time they are simple, and to the point.

Your silence is a weapon / it's like a nuclear bomb / it's like the Agent Orange they used to use in Vietnam

This pain / It is a glacier moving through you / It's carving out deep valleys / It's creating spectacular landscapes

My love is the rarest jewel and he crowns me with his love / My love, he is rich like caramel and he moves me from above

The entire performance was breathtaking, John's voice is in excellent shape. I know he's a good singer, but his warm tenor was on top form for some heart-stopping high moments and gorgeous melismas. I was on the edge of my seat the whole night. Luckily the lady sat next to me was kind enough to hand me tissues, seeing the emotional wreck next to her wiping his eyes in between songs must have been somewhat strange.

Highlights included some new songs and I was immediately hooked. "Geraldine" transfixed me. Nobody but John could make the word "shit" sound so beautiful. "No More Tangles" also seemed to utterly overcome and transfix everybody in the auditorium with its intensity. The orchestra's rendition of Rachmaninov's Prélude in C sharp minor was just stunning; a fantastic dramatic introduction to "Pale Green Ghosts", which featured otherworldly, almost terrifying, yet dazzling instrumental interplay between the loops and the synths and the orchestra

He played all the songs I was hoping for, it couldn't have been any more perfect. The rawness of "Drug", the pleading of "Vietnam", the rage of "Queen of Denmark", the spectacular climax of "Glacier" (I was made up to see Chris Pemberton play that on piano). He saved my favourite of all until last, I was becoming nervous and almost upset that I might not get to hear it. Then he sat at the piano and began to play "Caramel". I totally lost it, I was sobbing. The song is so beautiful, such a joy and privilege to listen to, but it causes me pain because of what it reminds me of. Although after all is said and done I was overjoyed he played it; it was marvellous, moving and over much too quickly. I sat for a little while as everybody filtered out of the hall to (somewhat unsuccessfully) try and compose myself.

And then meeting John...

It's funny, because I've been saying since I bought the tickets "Wouldn't it be great to meet John? I bet he'd give good hugs!" And then all of a sudden, some time after 11 (my legs could hardly move properly I'd been stood so long) there he was! Only three of us had waited for him, the other two people got some things signed and then he looked at me: I must have still looked a wreck from the concert, he looked right into my eyes, his expression said "are you okay??" I had so much I wanted to say but all I could manage was to thank him for "everything", for "tonight", for his "honesty" and for playing Caramel and how much it meant to me. He thanked me, put his hand out, told me to give him a hug and pulled me into a hug. I'm still on a high now, and I cannot wait for the next record and tour.

There are no men out there who we can relate to like John. I and many others most often have to turn to women to relate to and draw inspiration from. There are so many shallow "role-models" out there. I cannot think of another intelligent, talented, honest and inspirational male public figure among us like John. I can say he is the only artist who I really feel I can relate to and who inspires me to be better, to live and to create. I'm so grateful for his honesty, and for him sharing so much of himself with us. I hope he knows how important what he's doing is

Body Image Issues (Guess what I don't "need to eat something" & I don't care about the red patches of skin)

Haven't blogged for nearly two years, but here we are again!

Body image is something I've been thinking about for a while. And I started thinking about my own body image, mainly in relation to the visible signs of eczema, the angry red patches of skin on my body, but also my weight, which I've discussed before.

Body image seems to have become a very common obsession with men these days. More common than it ever seemed to be before. I think before it was seen to only be an issue women dealt with. But now men who never bothered before are now doing things like "going to the gym" and discussing "getting ripped" with colleagues at work. However, it still seems that discussion of body image issues primarily revolves around women. It seems men are too ashamed to admit that they too have issues with their bodies, because it's a "feminine" issue. Men pls.

Men's inability to admit that they have issues aside (that's for another post), let's talk about me. I, like most, was very conscious of my body growing up as a teenager and never liked it much. I was way too white, too thin, too bony, my neck was too long, my fingers too spidery, my shoulders never seemed to get any broader like they told us they would in school classes about puberty, and I didn't seem to be growing hair in all the places I was supposed to. Nobody ever told us that some boys' shoulders don't really grow broad, and not everyone grows a whole bunch of hair all over their body. I know now of course, everyone is different and there is huge variation in people's bodies, but at the time I felt inadequate. And I'm sure that's something we're all familiar with.

It took me some time to come to terms with my body. At 17 I was probably at my lowest point (I disliked pretty much everything about myself at that point, but that's another story.) At 18 I began the process of coming to like my body shape, but I still had deep-set issues, which I allowed to be reinforced by a steady stream of comments from acquaintances, friends and strangers regarding the "fact" that I was "too skinny", "needed to eat something" or "anorexic". At this point in my life I still allowed negative things people said to me affect what I thought of myself. And especially where friends were concerned, any negative comments about my weight hurt more and intensified my struggle to come to terms with the fact that my body is perfectly likeable.

Aged 20 I moved to Spain and became more independent than ever before. Having independence helped me a great deal with coming to terms with liking myself. I had to rely on myself more than I ever had before as the support network I'd had all my life was on an island hundreds of miles away. Relying on myself made me realise I could do all kinds of things I never thought I could do, and that I was a person who was worth something, who was worth liking. After being in a situation with a person who by all accounts should have complimented me on my body, but did quite the opposite, I didn't feel good about myself and I ended up spending a lot of time alone.

We had a large mirror in the bathroom of the apartment I was living in, so I could see myself as I showered and as I got out the shower. I was confronted by my own body. I stopped and looked at myself and it began. It began to sink in that my body wasn't so bad. I turned to the side, acknowledged the depth of my body. I turned back, and looked at the deep groove down the middle of my back, looked at how my shoulder blades protruded, how my back curved inwards and then out again towards the bottom. I faced myself. Looked at my flat stomach, my visible rib cage, the way my elbow joints look huge on my spindly little arms. As time went by I began to come to terms with the body I saw in the mirror. I got more and more used to the idea that my body was fine the way it was. Its shape was unique and it was mine and it made me me.

Liking the colour of my skin took a while longer. I have a very light complexion, I have the red hair gene from the Irish side of my family tree. My heritage is also English, and possibly Scottish... so all in all, very white. I practically glow in the sunshine, as the light reflects off of me. I always hated seeing photos of myself in the sun on holiday. I couldn't stand the sight of my bright white skin. I always envied the olive-skinned people I would see on the Mediterranean beaches and as I've gotten older I admire dark-skinned men more and more. Their skin: a beautiful, rich colour, smooth and stunning in the sunlight. My skin: better off covered up and hidden away. As I've gotten more used to liking the shape of my body though, that brought with it the ability to like my skin. My body shape makes me me and my skin makes me me, my skin isn't dark brown, it is bright white, it's mine and I own it. It's my own unique skin.

Further challenges to liking my skin are brought by living with chronic eczema. After a period of relative remission last summer the eczema has required constant looking after, with regular corticosteroid use for nearly a year. This is the longest I've ever had to consistently use topical steroids without a break. What I'm saying is, things aren't great. I'm left with patches of red skin all over my body. For a while I was afraid of them being seen, because of what other people might think. But then I realised life is too short to care about what other people might think of my red patches of skin, and that anybody who makes any negative comment about it isn't worth having around anyway. I may not be physically comfortable in my skin, but I can be emotionally comfortable. I can take ownership of what I have. I can look at myself in the mirror, red patches and all and say "That's me, I'm unique and I'm gorgeous."

And this is what I have learned. I am gorgeous. We are gorgeous in our uniqueness. I learned it through really LOOKING at my own body, and choosing not to see flaws, but uniqueness. I choose to not pay mind to the rude comments of others because I DECIDED that I am worth more than that. I don't need to eat more. I'm not too skinny. I'm not anorexic. I'm Joshua. I accept and love myself, so anybody who can't accept me doesn't really matter.

And that's the difference between me at 23 and me at 18.

Dressing up to go out for half an hour when your body mass index is 17.9 and you have no money

When I dress down somehow I feel more down. If I go out looking fabulous, then I feel fabulous.

I hate to go out wearing just a t-shirt and baggy jeans, I feel like I look shabby and drab, and I feel dingy inside. I don't want to smile because I look like a scruff and I don't want anyone to see me looking so unbearably hideous.

Going out wearing a fabulous fitted shirt, and fitted trousers though, makes me feel like I'm worth a million dollars! It's true, when I feel I look great on the outside I feel good about myself and about being seen, and about whatever it is I've gone out to do. So even though today I only went out to pay a quick visit to the bank and town hall, I dressed in nicer clothes. It was only for half an hour, but so what? I feel like it could be seen by some as pointless, but for me, it's really important to look good. I mean, some days you don't have time to sew a button onto your favourite shirt and match a scarf to it before you go out, but those are just days where you might be a bit closer to the verge of tears while you're walking behind ridiculously slow people on a narrow street in the rain. That's life.

That's why it's really not much fun being -low- on precious £££. My hair is getting too long, it can only sit flat on my head, but I can't afford a haircut. I want to look good for job interviews, but the more unemployed I get, the more unemployed I'm gonna look. I can wear clothes that look nice, and fit me for the first interview, but for the second one, they have to get a bit baggier because I only have one shirt and one pair of smart trousers that actually fit me.

I'm 5'10'' and weigh about 125 lbs. That gives me a body mass index of 17.9. And apparently, that means that I am underweight. (Who knew[??]). My waist measures about 26 inches all the way around, apparently, that's not healthy. The point is, though, that it makes it difficult to buy clothes. 26 inch waist (and regular leg length) trousers for adult men are a fairly rare sight, usually, I have to conform with 28 inch waist trousers, and even those are hard to find sometimes. Tops are even worse. The only size that actually fits me is XXS, XS is too big. Once I was out clothes shopping with a friend and I had found some nice trousers and the assistant wanted to recommend me a t-shirt to go with them, so I told him my size, and he came back with an XS t-shirt. I don't think he could believe that an actual person could be too small for an XS t-shirt. I was, and am.

The result of all this, is that the vast majority of my clothes are too big for me and this can make me feel bad, the point being, that I want money to buy new clothes, that actually fit me, so I can feel better about myself. So many people say they want to be skinny. Just be careful though, cos shopping for clothes as a person as underweight as I can be a real chore. Yeah, I know, boo-hoo, poor guy is too skinny. Well, fat people aren't the only ones with problems. If you will permit me to quickly rant, in society it's generally looked upon poorly to bring up the weight of an overweight person, yet many people feel perfectly comfortable drawing attention to an underweight person's weight. While now I would not be offended at all by somebody bringing up my weight, because I am comfortable with it, just know that it can hurt to be called "too thin", just as much as I imagine it would hurt to be called "too fat."

SCRAP THIS DIET!!!

Gosh that diet was the worst thing I ever did (I'm exaggerating, I like to be dramatic)

I scrapped it a couple of weeks ago. I went to the doctor to get some prescriptions, cos I was not getting any better. If anything, I was getting worse. I obligingly removed my clothes for my (new) doctor and he basically took one look at me and told me my skin was infected. I got lots more prescriptions, and he really conveniently prescribed me 1000g of Doublebase and Epaderm (the two main emollient creams I use for my skin) which means paying less. I also got some antibiotics, Eumovate (moderate corticosteroid cream) and Dermamist Spray. Woo. The scene in the pharmacy was something like this...

So yeah, plenty to be getting on with. The steroid can really keep the eczema under wraps, but it's not something you can use in the long term because it thins the skin. I would really just like for this to go away. I'm really sick of greasing myself up every night before bed and then lying my greasy body in my greasy bed. It's just really not convenient and really not comfortable. Not to mention the morning greasing and the constant itching. My hope at the moment is that it's just gonna disappear on its own now that I am less stressed?? It's a long shot I guess, nobody really understands eczema unfortunately, so there's nothing I can do. I just have to deal with it, that's life! Luckily I have a pretty good one so I'll manage.

Oh yeah, the scrapping of the diet. This was the most fun I've had in a while. I left the doctor's and marched straight to the supermarket and went on a shopping spree... I have the receipt here...

• 4 Chocolate éclairs
• Chocolate fudge pudding
• 500g fresh tagliolini
• 1 ball of mozzarella
• 2 boxes of cubetti di pancetta
• Pitta bread
• 3 100g bars of cheap dark chocolate
• 1.2kg mature cheddar cheese
• 5 Munchies cookies
• Double cream
• Chocolate sauce
• Chocolate chips
• Tuna 
• Orange juice
• White bread
• Lloyd Grossman tomato & parmesan pasta bake sauce

And I got some fruits but that's not important. I was in heaven. Ate the whole ball of mozzarella. Ate the éclairs. Ate loads of chocolate. Heck I was beasting bread and cookies while I waited for my bus. Cooked a cheesy, creamy, tagliolini alla carbonara inspired by a Giada de Laurentiis carbonara I saw her do. All in all I was a happy boy. BUT I did learn things from the diet. I eat tons more vegetables now, and it's actually really fun!!!! Also I love steaming vegetables. I have a fruit smoothie every morning, and I love it, it's such an esay way to get fruit in. Unfermented soy products FTW (shout outs to tempeh and tamari sauce). Basically I eat a lot healthier. I still eat a lot of sweet things, but I eat a lot more fruit and veg than I ever did, and I feel much better in myself. ANYWAY, I will blog more about food soon kbai xoxoxox

I am on a diet.

[If anybody says to me "You don't need to go on a diet, you're skinny" I would like to take this opportunity to cordially remind you that going on a diet is not the same as trying to lose weight, that a skinny person is not necessarily a healthy person, and that skinny people don't always like to be reminded of how skinny they are, in the same way that fat people don't like to be reminded of their fatness.]

I was thinking of writing in my journal, but it's late and I don't wanna get out of bed to get it. And it's part of the reason I started this blog anyway, so I could write 'journal entries' without having to write in my journal.

I'm hopeful and optimistic about the future. We all have our own path to follow, and we all have to be the best person that we can be. And that's just what I want to do. I've been making major improvements to my lifestyle recently.

I recently changed my diet. This whole year so far I've been severely affected by severe eczema, which in January manifested itself stronger than ever before. It was stopping me from sleeping, I was itching constantly. I eventually made it to the doctor who gave me some creams which have been a great help in masking the symptoms so I could sleep and go about daily life easier without constantly scratching myself. They make going to bed uncomfortable, because I have to be covered in a really greasy emollient, but it's better than waking up with unbearable itching. Anyway, I recently read about a diet plan on a lady's website which she says will help naturally heal eczema:

A natural cure for eczema requires not only avoiding food allergies, but also following a complete and balanced nutritional program and including exercise, relaxation, social harmony, contentment. In short, a lifestyle in line with natural living - are necessary for complete healing of eczema through natural means.

I'm nervous about the exercising part, because when I get too hot I have a full body outbreak of the most severe itching, which is not a pleasant experience I can tell you (especially when you're with your friends in the middle of a busy nightclub and you have to walk 15 minutes to get home!). I'm going to give it a try though and go back to doing some Jane Fonda, I hope to exercise, or at least do stretching every morning. Anyway, I'm going off on a tangent, I wanted to talk about the diet:

• I've had to stop eating a lot of foods I really love. I am a huge consumer of dairy, so it is really difficult for me to stop eating cheese and milk and the like.
• I used to have a bowl of sugary cereal with milk every morning. Now I am not allowed dairy or processed grains, and breakfast is raw fruit. (I have an apple and a satsuma)
• I am discovering the virtues of fermented soy products (unfermented soy is a no-go). Tamari sauce is amazing, and I am very much enjoying miso soup with its seaweedy goodness. I hope to soon discover the many uses for tempeh.
• I eat vegetables every day. The recommended diet says you should have vegetable juice for dinner every day, but I don't have a juicer and I really don't think I could do that, so I make meals with lots of fried vegetables, sometimes just dinner, but sometimes lunch too.
• I like meat, but haven't been eating it for a while due to the fact that I haven't been able to afford it. This diet recommends avoiding meat so I haven't really had a problem with this.
• Hydrogenated oils are a no-go, so I am currently searching for coconut oil or ghee to do my frying with, but I've been so far unsuccessful.
• I have a cucumber in the fridge and I'm still not sure what to do with it.
• White rice and white flour pasta are off limits. Luckily for me, brown rice tastes just fine to me, and I have been able to find wholeweat penne, fusilli and spaghetti pasta, and I don't even notice a difference in taste.
• High glycemic foods are off-limits. This includes, besides white rice and pasta, cakes and pies. I had recently gotten into the habit of baking myself cakes for consumption throughout the week, because I have a really sweet tooth and it's much cheaper to bake your own chocolate muffins than it is to buy them. That's stopped now, and I shed a tear every day for the empty box where I used to store muffins T_T
• Other things I can't (or rather, it is recommended that I shouldn't) eat include: pastry, yeast (so most bread), crisps, salt, artificial sweeteners, preservatives, food colouring, and synthetic vitamin and mineral supplements.

So in synthesis, I've had to stop eating a lot of things which I loved to eat, and am currently searching for alternatives to them (gotta be really careful with my chocolate now, also I NEED CAKE), I read the ingredients of all the foods I buy, but I feel really good about eating so much fruit and veg, and it is much easier than I thought to do.

Buses, Babs and the lengths I will go to for a reasonably-priced can of good quality hairspray

My hair is naturally straight and it is extremely fine, so au naturel it is a depressingly flat, shapeless mop on top of my head. I'd rather look like I am sporting a bird's nest to be honest. Hence I can't be without a comb and good hairspray. So anyway last week I ran out of hairspray, I use Tresemmé freeze hold, swear by it. But money is tight at the moment, could I afford 'fast drying', 'extra strong hold', 'professional quality', 'humidity resistant', 'climate controlling', 'used by professionals' hairspray? I didn't feel like I could justify it, so instead bought a 70p supermarket brand can. Bad idea. To my hair it was like Magikarp's splash... no effect. I sprayed and sprayed and sprayed, used half the can, and it did NOTHING. NO-THING. Tresemmé it is then.

The supermarket nearest my house (Sainsbury's, like 20 minutes away) carries it, but would have me pay £5 for it! Pah! I had seen it just days before in ASDA for just £3. SÃO, it was decided. I spent my afternoon getting the two buses to ASDA, to get a can of hairspray. Nothing else. And I don't feel like I wasted a single moment in doing this.


Anyway, normally when you signal a bus driver you want him to stop they'll indicate to show other vehicles, as well as your good passenger self that they are going to stop. Did the driver of the number 12 bus do this on hairspray afternoon? No. No he didn't. He didn't at all. So I signalled again at which point he was close enough for me to see him gesturing impatiently towards the bus door, was he trying to tell me it wouldn't open? Perhaps he wanted me to come and meet him halfway?? Upon the bus's arrival, I noticed the door was open, as if I should have realised that and stopped my irritating signalling -.-


Catching the bus is always sometimes interesting (even sometimes the waiting is interesting, not too often though). A regular topic of conversation in our house is the people on the number 7 bus, who we both know well from all the times we have caught the bus. We've started giving them nicknames now (well, those people whose names we haven't already found out), the nicknames began just last week as I was discussing a terrifying bus ride with "Babs", her kids, and her sister's kids running riot. It was decided that this woman's name should be "Babs" for some reason, she is loud, has loads of kids, and me and my housemate see her everywhere. When I think about the many, many hours I have spent traveling on buses, I think that it's nice I get to derive some form of enjoyment from all this time spent sitting down being ferried around the houses.


The bus drivers can also be a good topic of conversation. Also last week, one started driving away before I'd finished getting off AND I NEARLY TRIPPED. But I didn't fall over, luckily. My housemate says I should have, then I could have sued Stagecoach. She's probably right. Agck. Then the next day when I got the midnight bus home, the guy driving it looked about 80, srsly, he looked like he should have been at home tucked up in bed, asleep, like 6 hours before. His glasses were from the 1970s!!!!!!! I am not lying. And don't get me started on the ones that drive away when you've barely gotten on, though they're actually not that bad here. In Spain it's like they're really angry at you for making them stop, they're always in a serious hurry to get somewhere.


So who else have I seen on the bus, I hear you ask. (I feel like my blog is turning into a blog about the people I see on the bus D:) Well, last week I also saw a guy with wispy green hair. It was the grossest colour you can imagine. Green tinged with yellow. And wispy. It was wispy, and it made me sick. The day before I was on a bus with one other guy, with a decent haircut, but a really miserable face, and as he made his way down the gangway to get off, he did a pull up on the rings for standing passengers without a perfect sense of balance to support themselves at the front of the bus. I was like ¿¿??

WHY ARE YOUR JEANS COVERED IN ZIPS PLZ??

So today when I was walking home i saw a guy I guess you'd call him a punk? (I didn't know that term was even still relevant in 2012?) He was wearing these pants that were covered in zips, like all over. You know the ones I'm talking about? I can't even find a picture of them online. HOW DO THESE PEOPLE GET HOLD OF THESE HIDEOUS PANTS? It's a fashion I don't get. I mean the zips have no function. They're just tiny lil zips. Do these people have some kind of skin condition that means that tiny specific patches of their skin need air at certain times? Is that what the zips are for? So they can unzip different slits of their trousers at different times and let their skin breathe?? Don't they make special breathable cotton or something? Seriously though, I realize that fashion doesn't have to have function. When I put a scarf on to go to the supermarket in the middle of summer in the south of France I don't to it to keep warm, I do it to look good. But tiny zips all over your pants...... just leaves me all like "¿?"

Earlier in the day, whilst I was waiting at the bus stop I saw a guy who looked like an English version of famous Mexican vlogger Benshorts. (he's famous to me anyway...) I totally wanted to just stare at him. I mean, I suppose I couldn't really tell if he really looked like Benshorts cos he was wearing these (really nice) Police sunglasses. Do you ever wonder if people notice you staring at them?

When we finished for Easter holidays a few days ago I went out and had fun stayed up late and played Populous. There is something DEEPLY SATISFYING about engaging in tribal warfare involving magical shamans. The triumphant feeling you get as your shaman cries out the incantation to cast a volcano in the middle of your enemy's settlement is incomparable. I can't go out dancing anyway at the moment due to [mysterious] CERTAIN MEDICAL DIFFICULTIES [/mysterious]. The plus side of that though is that I can leave a shop (the chemist) with a bag full of goodies without being wracked with guilt the way I would be if I actually bought that Ybarra extra virgin olive oil, or those DKNY shirts, or that Calvin Klein underwear, or those cardigans from H&M, or a whole collection of scarves from River Island. The other great thing about the chemist is I love the people that work there. They're this group of really nice ladies. It was good cos today I got to sit around cos they had a computer fault so I had to wait from any time between five and fifteen minutes. In my head I pretended that I was part of their little group even though they don't know my name and we've never had a real conversation, although today was progress in terms of conversation as I got told I would have to wait and I got to ask how long, I felt like I was almost part of the inner circle.

So yeah, I was also reading Tomb Raider vlogs yesterday. I actually took a break from working. Feels like I've been doing nothing but translate and write essays and prepare presentations and translate and write about translating and read and translate for the past three months. Egh, DUH. Cos that's what I did for the past three months -.- So yeah I was reading these vlogs and wishing I could just sit and play Tomb Raider. Or be Lara Croft. One of the two. We'll find out which one soon.