The Emilie Autumn... incident
So, as expected, this entry got ridiculously long-winded and contains a few photographs etc. Although no Harry Potter spoilers, I promise ^_^
Here is my account of my second nightmarish trip to London in under a month
Things started off well on Thursday. I met Yaz in town and we went shopping and bought a few last minute things and then she came back to mine and we made a lumionus green cake. I did a few last minute alterations to my outfit and got everything ready for the next day. Then, we mannaged to stay up all night giggling and talking about junk even though we knew we would regret it the next morning.
I got up at some awful hour to get ready and then waited around. Eddi turned up to pick up my spare Harry Potter coupon. We sat by the fire for a while eating cake and drinking coffee.
Yaz’s dad was supposed to show up at 8:45.. which is pretty damn late to be setting off ANYWAY. Then, at ten to nine, he calls and says Yaz’s mother and sister have decided they are going to come too and they will be another 45 minutes or so getting ready. Oh, holy hell >.<
So, by around 10ish, we’re all smooshed into the back of the car and on our way… for about five minutes when we stop for petrol and Yaz’s mum runs into the supermarket for travel sickness pills.
Anyway, we finally get on the motorway and everything is fine… for a couple of miles. Then, it starts raining… and I don’t mean just a little bit of drizzle. I mean REALLY raining. As in torrential fucking downpour raining. The visibility was barely a few feet and we were having to crawl along on the motorway which was about half a metre underwater in places. It was scary and frustrating… but there was nothing to do except sit back and wait.
We tried to stop at a service station near Reading. Mistake! We practically needed an aquacar to get into the carpark itself. Then, when we did, rain pouring down around us like bullets, instantly soaking us through to the skin, we got turned away from the main doors to the sidedord which were also locked. The whole service station was literally flooded. We ended up giving uop and going to the next ones and havign to dry out under the handdryers. I got some seriously snotty lookds whilst doing my make-up…
The road into London iteself is always excruciatingly slow and this time, it was worse than I had ever experienced it. The traffic was basically at a complete and utter standstill for miles. By this time I was having a minor spaz fit, but the circumstances were all out of our controll, so there was nothing anyone could do.
By around 2:30, we finally got into central London. Ok, so we were going to have to cut shopping in Camden to a bare minimum, but we could still see the best shops and make the signing?… Right? WRONG
Yaz’s dad didn’t actually have the faitnest clue how to get to Camden. He had the worlds most useless google map print-out and a general map of braitin which was also useless. We drove around and around and aroudn North London in some of the dodgiest estates I have ever seen, too afraid to stop and ask for directions, getting more and more frustrated. Yaz’s parents argued, her sister whined and I gave up all hope. Time was trickling away and we were getting nowhere. Her dad kept saying how we needed a London A-Z. I have TWO if they’d freaking bothered to mention it. I felt like screaming… but you can’t be so damn rude when someone has been so good as to offer you a lift.
We missed the start of the signing. Yaz tried to be optmisitc, telling me we might still make the end. I told her she had to be kidding herself. I was correct. We missed the signing completely
Now, if you possibly failed to notice… I LIKE to queue. I’ll amdit, I’m rathe obsessive compulsive about it, but to have a good gig, I basically NEED to queue. I need to get a good place and get to know some people. This applys more than ever in Camden. The people I have seen at gigs in the Underworld are THE most beautiful, the most incredible, the most creative and the most extravagently dressed I have seen in my life. I adore these people. I crave them. I thrive off their presence… and I comepltely missed my chance to queue with them… actually, we even missed the opening of the doors.
Doors opened at 7… and at 8:30, we were still driving around some god-forsaken area of North London when her mum suggests we STOP. I was about to tear my hair out… but again, there was nothing I could say or do. So we stumbled out of the car, 12 hours after first getting it, having all forgotten what our legs were for. We were in the dingiest Mcdonnalds known to mankind, filled with screaming kids all staring blankly at me. Who could blame them - I was dressed as a fucking tea fairy in an outfit I’d made myself and looked fit to murder. So, after stuffing down cold chips and dosing myself up on nurofen and pro plus, we set off yet again in dispair.
Someone Yaz’s dad knew, who was in Camden told us Emilie was to come onstage at 9:30… it was at ten past nine, when they gave up, pushed us out of the car into Burnt Oak tube stationwith instructions to call them when we got out. WHY in God’s name we didn’t do that HOURS ago, I have NO idea.
Naturally, there was no-one to buy direct tickets off, so I ended up having to buy day passes from one of the machines. There was a queue and the man in front of me was giving me the oddest looks in history whilst I hyperventilated. Naturally, when it was my turn, I couldn’t get the machine to accept my fucking money. I cursed and stamped around in massive boots,e arnign me the strangest looks off passers by, when the damned machine decided to FINALLY give me my ticket and spit out the change. Then we had to go through the whole ritual again for Yaz’s ticket.
Swearing and spluttering I sprinted down the stairs onto the platform and my legs prompltly collapsed. Yaz tried to calm me down, but by that point I was freaking out majoryly.
We caught our tube… and in a cruel moment I said something along the lines of ‘I know the weather and the traffic wasn’t your fault… but if you knew your dad couldn’t get us there, why did you offer? I could have gotten a train and been there hours ago..” Yaz didn’t say anything but started crying… on a busy tube carriage. I am nearly three years older than her and look even older than that. What kind of a horrible bullying monster did I seem? I immediately felt awful and tried to console her..
I was just about ready to throw myself UNDER the train I was on… when it stopped as they are known to, to wait for another train to pass. Panic doesn’t even cover it.
Yaz tried to take photos to calm me down.
Here are my wings:
Me, looking murderous:
Expressions that tell a thousand words:
At around 9:25, we stumbled off the train at god blessed Camden Town station, I had no TIME for excitement as I sprinted up the escalator, clutching at my top to keep my breasts inside and tripping up every third step over my boots, getting stared at by all the people going down the opposite escalator. I grabbed Yaz’s hand, sprinted across the road, dodging horn-blaring traffic, practically threw my ticket at the doorman and sprinted down another set of steps.
Heaving for breath, Yaz got into the merch queue, I got a drink. I was MOST pleased that they did not I.D. me, as I have never felt more in need of alcohol in my LIFE. Anyway, we had barely bought all the hand-made merch we could get our hands on and shoved it into my bag as the opening bars of The Best Safety Lies In Fear began to play. I downed my drink and we wormed our way through the crowd. We were no where near the front, but we still mannaged a pretty good position and I could see the stage if I stood on tiptoes… which isn’t that easy in platforms!
The show was like nothing else I have ever seen in my life. It was breathtakingly beautiful. All of Emilie’s girls came out on stage during Best Safety.. and then, during the resounding banging at the end, Emilie burst onto the stage, tangled up in ribbons and tried to fight her way free from The Asylum mistress. The whole show was more like a kind of beautiful, artistic dance show. One of her girls was dressed entirely in white, Lucina, the original Opheliac, she sang backing vocals. Another, Lady Vecona,
worse a PVC corset and a tutu and did ballet all around the stage. The other, Aprella, was the Asylum mistress - she has a huge blackbird in her hair. During the art of suicide, they held brances above Emilie’s head whilst she sang and had a sword and pistol fight. They had an Emilie doll, Suffer The Bear and faceless baby dollsWhilst Emilie played Unlaced, there was this incredible thing with a red ribbon coming out of Vecona’s mouth whilst she wore a masquerade mask and was led about by Aprella. Emilie gave someone in the crowd a muffin and was drank lots of tea. She was so lovely, talking and joking with the auidicence. When she played ‘Face The Wall’, people stopped moving and just stared in awe. The crowd was different to any I have ever previosuly experienced, people were completely still and quiet, they just stood and stared, enchanted by Emilie’s playing.
I started talking to one guy who had come all the way from America to see her because she enver plays over there. I was very impressed… but then he put his hand on my ass and I got creeped out, but thaknfully I lost him.
Afterwards, as people filed out, I got a chance to tell some people how incredible they looked. Someone had working fairly lights all around the legs of their trousers. Lots of people had hand-made their tops or altered them themselves. I got a lot of lovely, positive comments on my outift, which made the agony of making it seem worthwhile. Also, people loved my idea of wearing a teabag as an earing XD
We all got uncerimounusly chucked out by security guards, they even chuked out the poor woman seeling merch. They really were horribly rude about it, they did the same last time I was there, too.
Anyway, there were rumours that Emilie had not had time at the cyberdog signing, so she would be coming out afterwards. But we had to find Yaz’s parents… they said thye were by Koko. We got completely lost trying to find it and after about quarter of an hour, wandering around Camden in platforms in the dark, they called and said they’d moved and to go back. So we did. We waited and waited and talked to some fantastic people. I got the email address of a fairly cute Austrailian guy and a hug out of some guy from Sweeden, which was nice.
Anyway, after a fair bit of waiting. She came out. I felt all sense leave the premises. She was SO damn nice. She laughed and giggled with people… pulled us all in for a big group hug to share body heat and posed for endless photos. Me and Yaz were last. Yaz beacame compeltely incomprehensible and just wibble at her. Emilie said soemthign of “Aww, adorable child, come here!” and hugged her and signed her ticket stub and took a photo. Yaz looks SO freaking happy, it’s adorable!
When it was my turn, she saw my earing and asked ‘Is that a teabag?!”
When I answered that it was she said “Oh my god, will you marry me?”
I squeaked yes and Emilie said that she wanted a photo of me! I could have died. Then I hugged her really tight and told her she was incredible. Then she thanked me for wearing a teaspoon as a necklace and licked it! She signed my poster from Opheliac and then took a photo. I look ridiculous. I have about seven chins. But I don’t care - I MET and touched EMILIE AUTUMN *keels over*.. but I am hoping I’ll meet her again at M’era Luna and get a slightly better photo! Haha
By that point, it was gone midnight and I was DESPERATE to go get my Harry Potter and Waterstones was only about two minutes away… but we had to go find Yaz’s parents first… and they were parked the wonrg way down a one way street. And there were a lot of dodgy drunks about and they wouldn’t let me back out of the car. And I did feel very sorry for Yaz’s dad, as he had been driving for about 12 hours… so I really couldn’t ask for any more. So I shut up, and got in the car, hoping that mayeb we’d pass a bookstore on the way out of London. We did pass the museum where JK Rowling HERSELF was doing the god-damn midnight signings, the place was swarming with TV crews and fanatics in cloaks.. but we did not pass a single freaking bookshop. So I had to calm myself down and tell myself to wait.
At around 3 in the morning, back in Swansea, we passed a Tescos and FINALLY they listened to my pleas and let me run out for a copy. Still dressed as an imensly bedraggled tea-fairy, I staggered across the carpark, into the sop, saw the massive display and clasped one to me. There was only one old man on duty and he gave me a very strange look and asking me if I wanted any help.
At half past three, after reading from the light off my phone, I staggered in through my own front door and burst into hysterical tears, clutching my book. It finally hit me that this was the FINAL book ever. I will never read a new Harry Potter book again and I could barely see the page for tears.
However, it wasn’t too long beforeI had to give in and sleep. By the time I finished at around 2am on Sunday morning, my entire pillow was stained scarlet and black. I have never been so upset by a book before in my life.
Here is my account of my second nightmarish trip to London in under a month
Things started off well on Thursday. I met Yaz in town and we went shopping and bought a few last minute things and then she came back to mine and we made a lumionus green cake. I did a few last minute alterations to my outfit and got everything ready for the next day. Then, we mannaged to stay up all night giggling and talking about junk even though we knew we would regret it the next morning.
I got up at some awful hour to get ready and then waited around. Eddi turned up to pick up my spare Harry Potter coupon. We sat by the fire for a while eating cake and drinking coffee.
Yaz’s dad was supposed to show up at 8:45.. which is pretty damn late to be setting off ANYWAY. Then, at ten to nine, he calls and says Yaz’s mother and sister have decided they are going to come too and they will be another 45 minutes or so getting ready. Oh, holy hell >.<
So, by around 10ish, we’re all smooshed into the back of the car and on our way… for about five minutes when we stop for petrol and Yaz’s mum runs into the supermarket for travel sickness pills.
Anyway, we finally get on the motorway and everything is fine… for a couple of miles. Then, it starts raining… and I don’t mean just a little bit of drizzle. I mean REALLY raining. As in torrential fucking downpour raining. The visibility was barely a few feet and we were having to crawl along on the motorway which was about half a metre underwater in places. It was scary and frustrating… but there was nothing to do except sit back and wait.
We tried to stop at a service station near Reading. Mistake! We practically needed an aquacar to get into the carpark itself. Then, when we did, rain pouring down around us like bullets, instantly soaking us through to the skin, we got turned away from the main doors to the sidedord which were also locked. The whole service station was literally flooded. We ended up giving uop and going to the next ones and havign to dry out under the handdryers. I got some seriously snotty lookds whilst doing my make-up…
The road into London iteself is always excruciatingly slow and this time, it was worse than I had ever experienced it. The traffic was basically at a complete and utter standstill for miles. By this time I was having a minor spaz fit, but the circumstances were all out of our controll, so there was nothing anyone could do.
By around 2:30, we finally got into central London. Ok, so we were going to have to cut shopping in Camden to a bare minimum, but we could still see the best shops and make the signing?… Right? WRONG
Yaz’s dad didn’t actually have the faitnest clue how to get to Camden. He had the worlds most useless google map print-out and a general map of braitin which was also useless. We drove around and around and aroudn North London in some of the dodgiest estates I have ever seen, too afraid to stop and ask for directions, getting more and more frustrated. Yaz’s parents argued, her sister whined and I gave up all hope. Time was trickling away and we were getting nowhere. Her dad kept saying how we needed a London A-Z. I have TWO if they’d freaking bothered to mention it. I felt like screaming… but you can’t be so damn rude when someone has been so good as to offer you a lift.
We missed the start of the signing. Yaz tried to be optmisitc, telling me we might still make the end. I told her she had to be kidding herself. I was correct. We missed the signing completely
Now, if you possibly failed to notice… I LIKE to queue. I’ll amdit, I’m rathe obsessive compulsive about it, but to have a good gig, I basically NEED to queue. I need to get a good place and get to know some people. This applys more than ever in Camden. The people I have seen at gigs in the Underworld are THE most beautiful, the most incredible, the most creative and the most extravagently dressed I have seen in my life. I adore these people. I crave them. I thrive off their presence… and I comepltely missed my chance to queue with them… actually, we even missed the opening of the doors.
Doors opened at 7… and at 8:30, we were still driving around some god-forsaken area of North London when her mum suggests we STOP. I was about to tear my hair out… but again, there was nothing I could say or do. So we stumbled out of the car, 12 hours after first getting it, having all forgotten what our legs were for. We were in the dingiest Mcdonnalds known to mankind, filled with screaming kids all staring blankly at me. Who could blame them - I was dressed as a fucking tea fairy in an outfit I’d made myself and looked fit to murder. So, after stuffing down cold chips and dosing myself up on nurofen and pro plus, we set off yet again in dispair.
Someone Yaz’s dad knew, who was in Camden told us Emilie was to come onstage at 9:30… it was at ten past nine, when they gave up, pushed us out of the car into Burnt Oak tube stationwith instructions to call them when we got out. WHY in God’s name we didn’t do that HOURS ago, I have NO idea.
Naturally, there was no-one to buy direct tickets off, so I ended up having to buy day passes from one of the machines. There was a queue and the man in front of me was giving me the oddest looks in history whilst I hyperventilated. Naturally, when it was my turn, I couldn’t get the machine to accept my fucking money. I cursed and stamped around in massive boots,e arnign me the strangest looks off passers by, when the damned machine decided to FINALLY give me my ticket and spit out the change. Then we had to go through the whole ritual again for Yaz’s ticket.
Swearing and spluttering I sprinted down the stairs onto the platform and my legs prompltly collapsed. Yaz tried to calm me down, but by that point I was freaking out majoryly.
We caught our tube… and in a cruel moment I said something along the lines of ‘I know the weather and the traffic wasn’t your fault… but if you knew your dad couldn’t get us there, why did you offer? I could have gotten a train and been there hours ago..” Yaz didn’t say anything but started crying… on a busy tube carriage. I am nearly three years older than her and look even older than that. What kind of a horrible bullying monster did I seem? I immediately felt awful and tried to console her..
I was just about ready to throw myself UNDER the train I was on… when it stopped as they are known to, to wait for another train to pass. Panic doesn’t even cover it.
Yaz tried to take photos to calm me down.
Here are my wings:
Me, looking murderous:
Expressions that tell a thousand words:
At around 9:25, we stumbled off the train at god blessed Camden Town station, I had no TIME for excitement as I sprinted up the escalator, clutching at my top to keep my breasts inside and tripping up every third step over my boots, getting stared at by all the people going down the opposite escalator. I grabbed Yaz’s hand, sprinted across the road, dodging horn-blaring traffic, practically threw my ticket at the doorman and sprinted down another set of steps.
Heaving for breath, Yaz got into the merch queue, I got a drink. I was MOST pleased that they did not I.D. me, as I have never felt more in need of alcohol in my LIFE. Anyway, we had barely bought all the hand-made merch we could get our hands on and shoved it into my bag as the opening bars of The Best Safety Lies In Fear began to play. I downed my drink and we wormed our way through the crowd. We were no where near the front, but we still mannaged a pretty good position and I could see the stage if I stood on tiptoes… which isn’t that easy in platforms!
The show was like nothing else I have ever seen in my life. It was breathtakingly beautiful. All of Emilie’s girls came out on stage during Best Safety.. and then, during the resounding banging at the end, Emilie burst onto the stage, tangled up in ribbons and tried to fight her way free from The Asylum mistress. The whole show was more like a kind of beautiful, artistic dance show. One of her girls was dressed entirely in white, Lucina, the original Opheliac, she sang backing vocals. Another, Lady Vecona,
worse a PVC corset and a tutu and did ballet all around the stage. The other, Aprella, was the Asylum mistress - she has a huge blackbird in her hair. During the art of suicide, they held brances above Emilie’s head whilst she sang and had a sword and pistol fight. They had an Emilie doll, Suffer The Bear and faceless baby dollsWhilst Emilie played Unlaced, there was this incredible thing with a red ribbon coming out of Vecona’s mouth whilst she wore a masquerade mask and was led about by Aprella. Emilie gave someone in the crowd a muffin and was drank lots of tea. She was so lovely, talking and joking with the auidicence. When she played ‘Face The Wall’, people stopped moving and just stared in awe. The crowd was different to any I have ever previosuly experienced, people were completely still and quiet, they just stood and stared, enchanted by Emilie’s playing.
I started talking to one guy who had come all the way from America to see her because she enver plays over there. I was very impressed… but then he put his hand on my ass and I got creeped out, but thaknfully I lost him.
Afterwards, as people filed out, I got a chance to tell some people how incredible they looked. Someone had working fairly lights all around the legs of their trousers. Lots of people had hand-made their tops or altered them themselves. I got a lot of lovely, positive comments on my outift, which made the agony of making it seem worthwhile. Also, people loved my idea of wearing a teabag as an earing XD
We all got uncerimounusly chucked out by security guards, they even chuked out the poor woman seeling merch. They really were horribly rude about it, they did the same last time I was there, too.
Anyway, there were rumours that Emilie had not had time at the cyberdog signing, so she would be coming out afterwards. But we had to find Yaz’s parents… they said thye were by Koko. We got completely lost trying to find it and after about quarter of an hour, wandering around Camden in platforms in the dark, they called and said they’d moved and to go back. So we did. We waited and waited and talked to some fantastic people. I got the email address of a fairly cute Austrailian guy and a hug out of some guy from Sweeden, which was nice.
Anyway, after a fair bit of waiting. She came out. I felt all sense leave the premises. She was SO damn nice. She laughed and giggled with people… pulled us all in for a big group hug to share body heat and posed for endless photos. Me and Yaz were last. Yaz beacame compeltely incomprehensible and just wibble at her. Emilie said soemthign of “Aww, adorable child, come here!” and hugged her and signed her ticket stub and took a photo. Yaz looks SO freaking happy, it’s adorable!
When it was my turn, she saw my earing and asked ‘Is that a teabag?!”
When I answered that it was she said “Oh my god, will you marry me?”
I squeaked yes and Emilie said that she wanted a photo of me! I could have died. Then I hugged her really tight and told her she was incredible. Then she thanked me for wearing a teaspoon as a necklace and licked it! She signed my poster from Opheliac and then took a photo. I look ridiculous. I have about seven chins. But I don’t care - I MET and touched EMILIE AUTUMN *keels over*.. but I am hoping I’ll meet her again at M’era Luna and get a slightly better photo! Haha
By that point, it was gone midnight and I was DESPERATE to go get my Harry Potter and Waterstones was only about two minutes away… but we had to go find Yaz’s parents first… and they were parked the wonrg way down a one way street. And there were a lot of dodgy drunks about and they wouldn’t let me back out of the car. And I did feel very sorry for Yaz’s dad, as he had been driving for about 12 hours… so I really couldn’t ask for any more. So I shut up, and got in the car, hoping that mayeb we’d pass a bookstore on the way out of London. We did pass the museum where JK Rowling HERSELF was doing the god-damn midnight signings, the place was swarming with TV crews and fanatics in cloaks.. but we did not pass a single freaking bookshop. So I had to calm myself down and tell myself to wait.
At around 3 in the morning, back in Swansea, we passed a Tescos and FINALLY they listened to my pleas and let me run out for a copy. Still dressed as an imensly bedraggled tea-fairy, I staggered across the carpark, into the sop, saw the massive display and clasped one to me. There was only one old man on duty and he gave me a very strange look and asking me if I wanted any help.
At half past three, after reading from the light off my phone, I staggered in through my own front door and burst into hysterical tears, clutching my book. It finally hit me that this was the FINAL book ever. I will never read a new Harry Potter book again and I could barely see the page for tears.
However, it wasn’t too long beforeI had to give in and sleep. By the time I finished at around 2am on Sunday morning, my entire pillow was stained scarlet and black. I have never been so upset by a book before in my life.