Miss B

my feet are filthy. my hair is dried and dyed into sunburnt wisps. in my notebook the words 'german electro conveyorbelt' are scrawled in lopsided biro: it was that kind of weekend.
we might have sweltered in tent-saunas, dying for more than 3 hours sleep to recover our danced-out legs and banging-ed-out minds before the sun rose higher than ever in the clear azul sky, but you kind of learn to get by on cerveza y musica after the first night.
benicassim is the ultimate indie-rock festival: everybody here loves those shouty/melodic bands and couldn't give a flick of their trendy hair whether it's 'cool' or not. we might have sweated the vodka out of our bodies, but somehow it's all so refreshing - dancing in the sizzling sunrise to an indie dj who follows bloc party ('is this mansun??') with the stone roses with arctic monkeys requires a suspension of any sneering london pretentions you might still be harbouring.
that's right - indie discos that play out every day until 8am, the mythical litre cups of beer, 40 degree heat, minimal house, perched on the white podium steps while cold damp air blasts from fans in four directions...
my best benicassim bits:
1. ellen & apparat play a mesmerising set which melds the highlights of their respective ouevres with their unstoppable collaborative album. my favourite moment arrives as apparat squeezes ellen's shoulders, strokes her back and lifts her silky hair up to cool her immaculate skin. it was so romantic - if only they'd just forget the bleeps and admit they're in love, right? moving on...
2. codec & flexor - the most surprising appearence of the weekend, as the club tent explodes in a burst of crazed electrohouse energy. we forget that they aren't 'a band' - get back behind the machines! what do you think you're doing!? inspiration for all laptop-based acts to get (a)live.
3. depeche mode - sigh. try not to shed a beery tear as approximately 100,000 people enjoy the silence.
4. oh dear god i fancy jake shears. he's so lithe and limbering and such a sharp wit... 'hello, hello, hello, is there anybody in there? just nod if you can hear me...is there naybody home?' ok, ana matronic is the real star here, but i ain't lookin at her right now.
5. sylvie marks. she knows what playing to an empty room (tent) feels like.
6. michael mayer & the minimalist corps.

under my desk i hide the secrets in my sandals, rusted with the dried earth of the sun-scorched campsite... i wonder if my feet will ever be clean again

i'm keeping all your books too

let me be your fantasy.

Dear Sir,
I hereby give one month's notice. Thank you for your help and assistance over the last three years, but I now feel completely undermined and isolated by the company.
Kisses x A-M