The McEwans was trickiest.

So last night I worked my first shift at The Rhyddings Hotel Pub. I think it used to be a hotel proper, now it's a pub/restaurant located in the Brynmill/Rhyddings Terrace area of Swansea close to the school.
One of my new co-workers didn't show up, so I ended up covering the lounge half largely by myself. I made a couple of new-guy mistakes, but I didn't freak out and by the end of the night I was feeling fairly confident. The owners of the place were pretty impressed and complimented me.
So now I'm working Sam's (the no-show) shifts tonight and thursday as well as friday and saturday (which is a Mighty Boosh-themed night). In addition to finishing up my portfolios. So, busy week.
After cleaning up, Dave and I (he on his bike, me near-jogging beside) trolled around downtown "in search of scraps," as he put it. The only place open was SO bar and their Karaoke Night. Dave went up to the mc/dj and requested to sing a song, the man said "you can only sing if you do Elvis."

So Dave did "Suspicious Minds" and we grabbed kebabs at Oasis where there was a very blonde girl being extremely rude to the proprietors. I'd like to think my voice of reason was part of the reason there wasn't fisticuffs or food-spitting.

A brief briefing of faces you should know, or at least can now picture when I reference in future blogs

Whereas I just got back from a bit of a stroll/write/stroll, the internet fails to live up to it's mighty promise and I don't quite feel like uploading pics from Easter, here's a few pictures of my life here in Swansea and the people it contains. You know. For reference.



This is myself and Adell Bridges, shooting tequila at three p.m. in the Uplands Tavern. Adell being a girl from my course, originally from the south U.S. but now quite living in the U.K. Moved from Scotch boys to Welsh boys. Writes a mean Terza Rhima.




Jen Johnson (terrible, by my own admission, picture of her) and Dave Jones. Jen (along with Courtney, not pictured here) went to St. Andrews in North Carolina. Dave is Welsh but sounds English.



Myself and Dave Beer at the train station in Cardiff, coming back from the Ida Maria show. DB is too many differing individual quotes to phrase up in one caption, so I won't try.



Jess and John. Often referred to as "punk John" or "the punk." They are quite engaged and, as you may guess, very cute. Jess is on my course as well, John is doing a PHD in a very specialised history I forget at the moment. We're going to see Nick Cave in May. They often host movie nights in their upstairs bedroom, beer, the odd joint and various types of cookies floating around the room.



This is Ioan. One of the funniest human beings I have ever met. Also very Welsh in probably all the best ways. Also tends to be a good listener on the odd occasion when I've had it up. to. fucking. here. with some of my friends (coughcoughcougcourtneycoughcougcough) and just involuntarily explode a little bit. Can usually be found at a pub, drinking really good beer. Also too many quotes for just one.

and finally:


Myself and Roy "the handsome one" Williams. In Cardiff at the Ida Maria show. He's a great bloke, Swansea native, Replacements fan and ladies. . . he's single.

"You took my Pretenders album. . . you know, the one with 'Kid."

I'm five tracks into the new Local H album "12 Angry Months" (thank you, internet!) and while it's too soon to tell about lasting effects, I'm thinking they might have actually made "their album. . ."


or conversely, lost all their longtime fans. So far I've heard keyboards, slide guitar, multiple-drummer freakouts, oh, there just went some violin.

you can expect more on this, doubtlessly.

and it's such a tragedy, it's almost greek.