I received some really nice presents this year, thanks in part to my rather shameless "go and take a look at my Amazon wishlist" comment when a friend asked what I wanted this year. So I received two CDs (from bands which I've seen this year), a book on investing by my favourite financial writer, and a box set of one of my favourite TV shows, although I'm probably a bit too old for it now, but which I still love because I'll admit it's probably the show which helped to broaden my musical horizons the most.

As for what I got myself, I bought myself a Shanghai Pearls necklace from Bordello, a delightful purveyor of lingerie (among other things) located in Shoreditch, and a Nanette Lepore dress, once seen on Blair Waldorf on Gossip Girl and which looked absolutely amazing on me. The bad things about my treating myself are that I have new additions to the wishlist, namely a corset from Kunza Corsetiere (which costs just under a month's rent!) and anything by Nanette Lepore.

All right, I'll admit my reaction in the previous post was probably just a little over-the-top. Just a little. Heh. It's just the way I am. I'm not great when it comes to talking about feelings and stuff like that, even if the response I got wasn't the negative response I was partly expecting.

While the issue with CG has been driving me slightly bonkers for a while, I don't think I would have broached the topic if it weren't for a fairly obvious signal that there was definitely some interest on his part. And I'm really glad I went down my usual path of doing this verbally, as opposed to my friend who kept on going "snog him, snog him!" the whole night long. A snippet of our conversation follows:

Me: Assuming I go down your road - and I am not going to - what happens if he's not interested?
Friend: He's got no choice! You'll be kissing him.
Me: No choice?
Friend: What guy in his right mind wouldn't respond to a gorgeous girl kissing him?
Me: Er... that's not quite the point, is it?

In any case, no, I didn't take her advice and just attack him. But, in any case, he is interested in me, but, as I figured, he really wants to focus on work right now. Fair enough. He doesn't mind having a little fun, whatever that means (no offence to him, just that I'm well aware that my interpretations and the actual meaning may be quite some distance apart), but can't promise anything more. Again, fair enough. I completely understand and respect that.

Doesn't mean I'm not a little disappointed, but, hey, c'est la vie, n'est pas?

There is a silver lining to this slightly strange situation though. At least I know my radar's not completely wonky. I haven't been entirely certain of my judgement in a while because of everything that happened with MD, and, at least now, I've got some validation that I'm not completely off!

Yay, birthday celebrations! Woo!

Except that I am also so embarrassed that Ijustwanttocurlupanddie. Let's just say a certain someone does return my feelings but is at a stage in life - which I completely recognise and acknowledge - whereby other things take precedence.

So, of course this completely explains why, upon my return home, I turned on the radio to Kiss 100 FM, boogied around the round and poured myself a strong vodka tonic and am praying I will obliterate the memory of my making an a** of myself.

Augh. F**k!

My concert going has certainly increased exponentially since I moved to London two years ago. Thankfully, the quality of the performers hasn’t dropped. There have been so many concerts that I’ve thoroughly enjoyed myself at and have been convinced that that one would have been the concert of the year for me, only for it to be topped a couple of weeks later. Not that each concert gets better and better, just that they’re all so good that it’s hard to pick just one. And they’re all good in different ways too.

Last night’s concert by Snow Patrol (the fourth show in their Reworked tour showcasing their previous work as The Reindeer Section in addition to their body of work as Snow Patrol) was one such concert. I know what everyone says about the band: they’re Coldplay-light, they’re bland, they’re safe. Whatever. They’re incredibly radio-friendly and accessible by a wide range of people, yes. They do a lot of songs about love, yes. But what’s wrong in that?

And as performers, Snow Patrol certainly do give their all. Gary Lightbody was full of energy and just like a kid on Christmas day yesterday night. The Royal Albert Hall does seem to have that effect on the bands I’ve seen perform there. Much like Glen Hansard from The Swell Season, Gary was awed at performing in this most hallowed of concert venues, and it showed. In a way, he looked very much like Ian Curtis dancing, with slightly jerky arm movements, unable to restrain his joy, yet not daring to move too much in case he'd wake up from this wonderful dream. It was great just seeing how happy he was, particularly in the wake of the review of the first concert of this tour which seemed to feature an audience much more placid than tonight's.

The one thing I will say about Snow Patrol: they are one of the few bands whose songs never fail to make me just want to close my eyes and sink into the music. Their songs are soothing, relaxing and, in so many ways, very relatable. And when I’m seeing them performed live, it always gets me right there, and I have to struggle a little not to cry either out of sadness or sheer joy. And a performer that’s capable of drawing such emotion out of his/her audience is to be admired, regardless of how you might feel about ‘safe’ music.

I enjoyed the entire concert, except perhaps the very first single they released as Snow Patrol. Fortunately - for me at least - they've gone from strength to strength ever since. You Could Be Happy, once again, got to me. Seeing as it is the song which triggered my relapse back in the summer (particularly when Gary sings "for the tiniest moment, it's all not true"), that's perfectly understandable. However, several months on, I've come to the revelation that this song is, as Gary says to us on this night, is ultimately about happiness, and not regret.

It is also the moment I realise that I am well and truly over MD. Not that I'd been moping over him before that, but that I can honestly stand up and say that he's in my past, and that I loved him, without any hesitation before pronouncing the 'd' in that.

But tonight isn't about loneliness or past loves or regrets. It's all about the music I enjoy. And following that revelation, I just throw myself into the music, joining in with the clapping and hollering and am just generally to be found grinning from ear to ear the whole night. Yes, I am disappointed that they don't play You Are My Joy or Signal Fire, but, hey, I love a lot of their other songs too, and I'm having such a great time that I don't really care. In fact, if it weren't for work, I'd probably have come back to see them once again at the Royal Albert Hall!

As a completely random comment, may I just say that well done to Dr. Brooke Magnanti for having written an incredibly entertaining blog (that's Belle de Jour for those of you who've been living under a rock over the past week) and managing to keep her identity secret for all those years?

And how cool is it that a UK blogger managed to work out who she was six years ago, didn't tell a soul, and even set up a system so that he could be alerted once other people figured out who Belle was? There are good people out there after all!