Drinks, meringues, fifth cousins twice removed

Last night, Rob, Chris, Letitia, Paul and I had a very pleasant evening in one of London's finest public houses. Happily, I bumped into the lovely Guss from my old Big Band, and Tom, a friend of Nina's who is slightly evil and very clever. A discussion we all had about meringues led me to this article about meringues and vacuums. So, to those who doubted me, Heston Blumenthal thinks it's a good idea, so there. We also established that Tim Harwood, of Corby Glen, is my fifth cousin twice removed, as this chart establishes, though I concede that it would have been easier to answer the question 'Are you related to the other Harwoods in the village?' by saying 'Yes'.

Companionship and cigarettes

Yesterday evening, my flatmate Claudia and I had planned to go and see Romance and Cigarettes, the John Turturro film. While a transport issue hampered the attempt, we did go for a quiet drink in Wandsworth, which seems to have about a dozen Youngs pubs, and pretty much nothing else. Choosing one old-man pub over another was a pretty straightforward matter, we chose the one nearest the bus stop. We chatted about work, social plans and how bloody tired we both were, and then went home. All in all, we reckoned we would have fallen asleep by the end of the film, so we're going to try again next Tuesday. Has anyone seen it? Any thoughts on how it is?

On a bicycle made for Tooting

"When I drive my car, I am not driving - I am participating in a conspiracy called traffic. I will walk." Jacques 'Jacques' Liverot - The Day Today.

This morning I cycled into work. Yesterday evening I cycled home from work. Both seemed to somehow have me cycling against the wind, and both were the most gruelling cycle journeys of my life. I think my bike might need a little maintenance. The wheels are flat, the brake blocks are rubbing, the frame is rusting, the gears are out of line, the tyres are balding, the saddle wobbles, the whole thing is in need of serious attention, either from me or from a scrap metal merchant.

This evening, I'll cycle home from work. Perhaps I'll take the time to fix the bike. Perhaps, tomorrow morning, like Liverot, I will walk.

Weekend in the studio

This weekend I spent 11 hours recording songs with Jim. It was quite an experience. All in all, tempers were entirely controlled, and we got what was certainly the best music I've ever recorded. It's already available for download, and there will be slightly improved final versions later. I'm already looking forward to the next session!

N.B. If you're particularly sensitive, please don't listen to Pornstar. It covers themes of incest, bestiality, and cheap French people-carriers.

I take it back

A couple of weeks ago I said something about, um, if Idon't have anything interesting posted here, it's probably because the interesting stuff is something I can't tell you about. It's lies. I've run out of money, and work is very busy, so I've done nothing even remotely interesting all week - in terms of meeting up with people, going to events or performances, even having interesting conversations, as I've been too busy at work to think of anything imaginative to say. I've found some very exciting spreadsheet functions (ones that count the characters in a cell, nested IFs, IFANDs, SUMIFANDs, arrays and so forth) but they don't make exciting conversation.

On the upside, this weekend I'm recording some music (covers - I've never been able to write songs) with Jim, hopefully including acoustic versions of Back in Black and (in the lounge style) Master of Puppets. There's a birthday party Rob mentioned, and a leaving do on Friday evening, for one of the drivers at work.

My aunt says you should never wish away time, because you can't get it back. She has a good point. So I'm not wishing it was tomorrow and the weekend was already here. Instead, I'm looking forward to another day of exciting Excel functions, followed by some focused practice on those lounge-style rock songs this evening.

Rugby and maths don't mix

I for one am hoping France win their Wales game tomorrow, because otherwise we're going to be sat there with calculators, trying to figure out who is going to win. We'll be at Ben and Emma's place generally shouting at the TV anyway, so it should make for a good afternoon's entertainment.

Blogging vs diary-keeping

I found a vacancy at Amnesty International today - they're looking for a data analyst to examine their fundraising activities and establish how effective they are - which is pretty much what I do at the moment for those nice vegetable people. Of course, I should say 'Well, actually I'm happy where I am, and there's a definite future for me in selling organic food' because I know a few people from work read this sometimes. But wouldn't it be marvellous to work for a charity that does so much good, for real people, with a tangible result to its work? Saving hostages, stopping persecution and torture, brutality and murder. In reality of course, the job would just be a matter of establishing whether guilt-trip TV adverts were more cost effective than charity-muggers, of course - I'm definitely better off with the carrots and celeriac.

Fundamentally, though, it was a good reminder that there's only so much one can say on a blog. Unless you keep an anonymous one of course. So if I run out of interesting thigns to say (whether I say boring things or nothing) don't judge me. Hopefully there's something really exciting I'm not telling you.

An interest becomes a passion, a passion becomes an obsession

... and Matt leaves home at 6am today, to get an hour of kiteboarding in before work. And it was the most successful kiteboarding yet, with speeds approaching 25mph (by my best reckoning - quick anyway) and using the large kite on the board for the first time. Some slight issues with turbulence, the kite folded in on itself at some inopportune moments, but all in all, a great way to start the day. Now to make it to 6pm without falling asleep...

Pet food

Yesterday evening I nejoyed dinner at Tito's, London's premier Peruvian restaurant. We had some delicious raw fish smothered in lime juice, and I also had an enormous plate of salmon and seafood in a rich tomato sauce. And some wine, of course.

We were disappointed to discover one glaring omission of well-known Peruvian cuisine from the menu, but other than that it was an excellent meal, and I highly recommend it. It's somewhere near London Bridge station.

Gopher, Everitt?

Last night Claudia came back from Australia, which was excellent news, though something of a shame from her point of view. During the day, I had my review (third one so far, I'm expecting another in a month's time, don't ask) and a long meeting about planning, all of which was a bit hard going. I also failed to get a proper night's sleep. I think Monday was the only undisturbed night's sleep I've had since January now. On the upside, I enjoyed watching the first half of O Brother Where Art Thou? again. So much so I made a note of lines like 'It's a fool who looks for logic in the chambers of the human heart', 'I'm votin' for yours truly'-'I'm votin' for yours truly too'-'Well, I'm with you fellas' and 'Consider the lilies of the God-damed field...'. I think I'll have to watch the rest of it tonight, when I wake at 2am and can't get back to sleep. It seems a shame to waste those hours.

Manners!

Yesterday a friend and I watched Graeme Garden and Barry Cryer record two episodes of 'Hamish and Dougal; You'll Have Had Your Tea'. It was full of puerile innuendo and fart jokes, and all in all made perfect entertainment. The ceilidh band were also pretty impressive, and the musical director of the programme was Graeme Garden's son, who also plays keyboards with the Scissor Sisters, apparently. Then we went to Wagamama, where we enjoyed excellent cheap Japanese style food. Then we went home. On the way, I saw a tube platform sign indicating that the first train would arrive in 11 minutes. I don't think I've ever seen that before.

Not killing small children; a kiter's guide

I went kiting yesterday. I went kiting the day before, but on the day before I wasn't approached by a small child, wearing a badge that said '5'. When you're flying a 6.3 sq.m kite, capable of lifting your weight (in my case around 90kg) and more in the right wind, and you're flying it in that right wind, a child that weighs around 7 kg offering to help launch the kite can be a little worrying. When the kite is dragging you forward, much as you try to stay still, the same child standing directly in front of you can also be worrying. The fact that a child is able to just wander along and come and say hi, when she's only 5, and when she has only a vague idea of which direction she should walk to get back to her parents, is also a little concerning. Even so, it really made my day.

She very quickly understood that standing in front of me was a bad idea. She also managed to actually help launch the kite, by holding one end of it up, to catch the wind (mostly children wanting to help get to hold the kite as the adult launches it, but she actually made it easier). And her parents seemed to be pretty easy going. We had a conversation about how the kite could probably pick her up and take her 25 metres into the sky. Dad said 'Well, she'd probably really enjoy it'. I said 'Yes, on the way up...'. As they left, she insisted on coming to say bye-bye to her new friend, and I picked her up by the wrists and put her down again, which she seemed to enjoy. Hopefully there'll be another kite enthusiast in ten or so years' time. And it kind of makes me think that one day I might be lucky enough to make little powerkiters of my own...

Not sleeping again

Yesterday I went to bed almost pitifully early, but at 12.45 I was woken to the sound of a two chord vamp with a major scale bassline. Not only was this disturbing my sleep, but to my disgust, a guitarist was improvising over the top using a phrygian or blues scale! I could have wept! The two chord thing gave way to some other half-arsed pop-rock crap and then something by the Doors. By which time it was nigh on 3am.

At 6am this morning, I felt a strange compulsion to watch 'The Big Lebowski'. So I did. I was surprised to discover my subwoofer was turned up quite loud. As I don't really enjoy loud bass sounds at 6am, I left the room and had a bath, and came back to the film at about 7am, picking it up where I had been watching it the previous evening before I went to bed. I'm expecting a restful night's sleep tonight.

This evening I'm visiting friends, tomorrow I'm eating Sri Lankan food, Friday is the usual work drinks, Saturday is a jazz rehearsal followed by a party, sunday will involve kiting activities, and on Monday I'm off to see this being recorded. I envisage having lots of restful undisturbed sleep to help me cope with a gruelling schedule. If I don't, I might have to buy some Schwarzenegger films.