where was i?
so the last week and a bit has been... interesting. the landing outside the flat smells of artificial strawberry flavour. i'll com back to that later.
somethimes i wonder if i'm absolutely pathological about environmental stuff.. not leaving things switched on, buying the ethical thing above the thing i really want, and that. and then i realise that i'm probably actually quite reasonable and every one else should pull their socks up a bit to make me look less monomanic, and also so i don't lapse theough self-doubt.
so there i was, packing up my life into bxes and cleaning the flat, but forgetting about the grill pan and having to throw my carefully maintained collection of paper and card away because i knew my dad wouldn't recycle it and i didn't have time, dammit. i spent my last night in manchester with rufus his friend (actually his ex) emma and a couple of other lads, one of whom in fact seemed to quite like me. we chatted over the lack of an alternative gay scene in manchester, and his alt drag queen persona. he was really nice. i don't know; i'm not as anti-gay as i was; i'm certainly not anti-cock. of course there's more to a man than cock. but i wasn't about to start experimnenting; even though last nights are a good time to experiment, they're also a good time to do what you do well. so it came to pass that i shared with emma an absolutely perfectly comfortable intimation; some holding and a single kiss as she went to her taxi. 'good for the ratings' as they say. the next night i sat in with iona while her parents went out to the opening of the new hilton across the road from dimitri's. we practiced piano - not nearly long enough, i thought - and watched telly, and luckily caught half of the leeds piano competition (thanks bbc four). yes they do make funny faces when they play, but to be honest, you can't comment until you're that good can you? and maybe they're only that good *because* they make theose faces.
so friday came and i launched on the train to peterborough. i changed at doncaster, and there was andy on the same train!* he got out his laptop and played me the rough mix of the acoustic doom-core song we recorded, which still needs some work, maybe more guitars? peterborough of course was the station where andy and i seperated after our now legendary italian trip (when he was threatening to get off at cambridge and tracking down his ex), so pulling in there again was a magical experience. unfortunately it was pissing down and the bridge had warnings not to damage it because of the asbestos, which says so much about peterborough. luke pulled up and took us to his thankfully not peterborough town, which i can't remember the name of but wasn't far away. we bought drinks and nibbles and irn bru (very important) from the shop and went for a nice night in/out. some hilarious moments in various bars full of beautiful sixth formers who only wanted gum. went back and watched la haine; everyone went to bed half way through, and i stopped wastching at the point when it looked like it was going a bit goodfellas. i started playing grand theft auto san andreas, but i couldn't get into the whole blaxploitation. the whole eating and haifcuts thing was so stupid. then i fell asleep.
in the morning, imogen was there like an unexpected butterfly, as was lego star wars. getting to my brother's flat took all day and was not really worth the effort, for anyone but me. hooray for bhajis, samosas, and nuts in services stations. did i mention my new late night invention - the onion bhaji kebab? the kebab shop man will know exactly how to make this, they just never have. it's delicious and sesame seed free.
leaving luke's car at ealing, we tubed it over to bethnal green feeling less than human. we fed, then at jo's andy and luke sorted themselves out with a sleep while i went the opposite way with a shower. the party didn't start as much as evolve. ian's ipod, imbued with mythical proportions by friends of mine, was quite good. there was meant to be a lawrence of arabia theme, but this was entirely so that the four girls who had the kit could belly dance, while all the men sat around smoking a sheesha and clapping. of course it wasn't this divided, and the girls were all to happy to adorn us blokes with jingly things, me a little too much. people thought i looked rediculous and kept complaining my nipples were showing, but it wasn't my fault; because i don't care how i look, if someone dresses me up in head scarf and jingly bra while i'm playing guitar i'm not going to do anything about it. perhaps i was more drunk than i gave myself credit for, but my guitar playing and dancing were pretty well under my control. jingly things really make you dance in time with the music because of the enhanced feed-back from your movements, so in someways it was more restrictive. later in the evening dancing became harder, by that point i probably was drunk. but 'animation' should not be evidence of drink. i started using andy's ipod to queue up songs - unexpected crowd pleasers like 65daysofstatic's 'radio protector', and er, encouraged by andy, some dj gallow slutt remixes and klein bottle fish tank, which went down really well, and no-one knew it was me. it took purple milk before somone changed it, which is fair enough.
the morning after i promised to take my brother out for lunch and then didn't, for which i felt terrible and would have bought some flowers to say sorry but it seemed such a pathetic gesture (nothing says 'i'm kind of maybe a bit sorry a little' like sainsbury's flowers, plus the queue was obscene).
so since then, i've been dotting around a little, signing up at agencies, exploring, setting my computer to go through the telly (largely so i can listen to my music), and buying new shoe laces and a belt. i'm reading stalingrad, masters of doom (about romero and carmack), and teach yourself: zen. every morning i do my stretches, improvise epic post-rock on uke (the sort you can only do when no-one's watching), have a coffee, write a list and act on it. i missed a dynamite opportunity to make myself look great - when the person in 'directions' (a rather tacky little office) said 'so you seem to go for the longer contracts', i should have said, 'no, they were all month contracts, but they kept me on because i was very good', which is true. then asked what classification of degree i got.
i'm in a good headspace, and i don't really know how it happened, or how to maintain it. i just need to use it.
*(don't believe me for a fucking second that this was a co-incidence, i engineered the whole thing)
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