We’re off to a thing on the London Eye tonight (see! What with this and U2 if poverty and trade aren’t history and fair by 9pm tonight, I will be very cross*), so as a result I “packed” for Glasto last night. Consequently I’ve spent most of the day remembering things that I probably should have put in my bag.
For example, it’s slightly possible that my festival experience this weekend will be improved somewhat by taking my sleeping bag. No doubt I will remember other equally unimportant items during the course of the day (and surely also tomorrow, when it will be too late for me to take them, unless I ask Sally nicely).
Like Rob, I’ve been perusing this year’s clash finder. It’s not looking good: Chas n’ Dave or The Futureheads? (Ok, probably the Futureheads, but I’m only half joking.) The Killers or Willy Mason? Bright Eyes, The La’s, or Primal Scream? Kasabian or the Magic Numbers (or New Order)? (Or should I just go and see The Proclaimers–for a laugh–instead?)
Oh, decisions, decisions…
[* Respectively, obviously. I wouldn’t want to “make trade history”, or “make poverty fair”, no matter how many sweatshop-produced wristbands I happen to be wearing. That would be terrible, clearly.]