Maisying during the day (hopefully arriving at another completion, which is nice), just sitting there in the evening. Lots of things I could do, but nothing that I actually do.


generally obnoxious and buffoonesque

Oh, you know, Maisying. A bit of practise before work, but not really enough. Pooh.

After work there are drinks for Claire, who will be getting married at the weekend. I don’t drink, but I do have cake. Too much cake, in fact. There are a couple of bits left, and someone says “oh, throw them away.”

Throw them away? You can’t throw cake away!”

So I get intoxicated on the sugar and generally obnoxious and buffoonesque. More than usual? Who can say?

Hello Emma, from Copyeds, who said I wouldn’t mention her in my diary. Welcome to fame on the Internet.

Mind you, she actually was drunk.

At home I prance along to the Tai Chi DVD I bought on Saturday, to very little effect, but this Chi stuff is subtle, oh yes. I only hope no one on the passing busses can see me, it will play havoc with my street cred.

a useful thought

If “A beginning is invisible”, is what we consider to be a beginning not in itself an initiation of events, but rather an act of confirmation that a process has begun, that we can feel the future tugging at us? Similarly, is an act of commitment an acknowledgement of a relationship that already exists?

Sorry about that, gag-hungry readers. It’s a useful thought for me, though.

A day spent Maisy-ing followed by another Jam, which I kind of enjoy I guess. I’m very tired – this getting up at 6:30 lark is beginning to get to me. Let’s see how it pans out, shall we?

some of them classics

Up early again. Hurrah, I think.

I do almost an hour of guitar practise before I have to go to the supermarket. This induces the cramp in my back that is usually does. There must be something psychosomatic going on.

I’m oddly jealous of the goings-on in Atlanta, although I realise that that’s not really the best/most appropriate/most helpful response. In fact a part of me is looking at the jealous part in slack-jawed amazement at the other part’s stupidity. It does sound like fun, though. I’ll apportion extra rations to the wiser part of me: The Work Of One Supports the Work of the Whole, after all.

In the afternoon I try (and don’t, frankly, fully succeed) to So Something about the bedroom. I do:

  • Discover several pairs of trousers I’d forgotten that I had.
  • Discover several waistcoats in various degrees of gaudiness, similarly (possibly blissfully) forgotten.
  • Discover that I was going to have had an awful lot of woolen things, some of them classics.
  • Discover a lot of moths.
  • Discover that throwing out all those clothes (some of them classics) doesn’t actually make that much space.

(as opposed to Perfunctory)

Up at 6:30. Well, up at 6:00, but I decided that 6:30 made a lot more sense, although actually it makes no sense at all, since Mendoza is four hours behind us, and so it’s 2:00am there, but since adding Stretching and Extensive (as opposed to Perfunctory) Abluting to my morning schedule I’ve been left with very little time to do stuff in, so I’m trying to claw back an hour or so. What happens on Tuesday (after the jam’s finished at 11:30 on Monday, again) I don’t know, but we’ll see how it goes. I certainly have a bit more time. Perhaps I can move to 6:00 later on. Perhaps I’ll abandon it all. It’s difficult to say.

Back at Walker’s for the day – It thought I’d be finished this afternoon, but I’m not. Gaah. And I oversleep at lunchtime with my feet up on a chair, thus consolidating a reputation for slacking that I, no doubt, already posessed.

I just spend the evening dribbling and achieving nothing.

(Note: it doesn’t really)

I go to the bank to do long-overdue phone bill stuff and pay in some money. The woman behind the counter “can’t help but notice” that I haven’t “upgraded” my account. Do I want to speak to an “advisor”? No. Do I want to meet one in a week or so, maybe? No. She looks confused, as I’m not fulfilling my part of the script. Curiously, since the NatWest have become more savvy to customer relations, it’s become more and more difficult to actually talk to the people there or fulfil a simple transaction without friction.

On the way back I see a man with a heavily bandaged nose using it to push a peanut across the road. I suspect this is art: a man attempting to find the limits of the Law of Diminishing Returns.

And Mike Grenfell calls, which is interesting as I was only this morning putting emailing him on the same list of Things To Do that contained visiting the bank. He is going to Mendoza as well. Things are definitely coalescing on that front.

I get less work done than yesterday, sadly, but still won’t return to Walker empty-handed.

In the evening I go to the gym and run for an hour, which somehow offsets the fact that I manage, through the course of the day, to eat an entire packet of Jaffa cakes.

(Note: it doesn’t really.)

my back keeps me from attaining Nirvana tonight. Maybe next time.

I work at home today. This is generally used (in the Wonderful World of Gainful Employment) as a euphemism for a day spent lying on the sofa watching the cricket or drinking coffee and staring out of the window watching the passing busses, but to my astonishment I actually do get a lot of work done, at least as much as I would have done at Walkers, if not more. So.

I get to Shinay at 7:00, but this recurring twinge (or stabbing pain if I’m feeling melodramatic) in my back keeps me from attaining Nirvana tonight. Maybe next time.

Ben draws my attention to The Framley Examiner. Lung-threateningly silly.

No practice, though. Am bad boy (Slaps wrist).

I’m asking the wrong question. And badly.

Another day in Walker, so not a lot to say really. There won’t be a machine available for me tomorrow or Thursday so I elect to take a bunch of stuff home to work on, which necessitate me running around getting stuff onto CD.

Um. That’s it.

The thought strikes me – if there’s a League of Crafty Guitarists in Barcelona, and one in Mendoza and another in Atlanta, is each one The League, or are they each A League.

I suspect I’m asking the wrong question. And badly. So no change there.

Atlanta seems to be getting along nicely.

snarkiness … both un-called-for and inaccurate

More Maisyfication, which is fascinating to read about, I realise. It’s almost as fascinating to write about. Actually, since I never write about it, really, that bit of snarkiness was both un-called-for and inaccurate. Thus its appearance on the internet.

I take the old Applause guitar into work so I can get a bit of practise in during lunch although I don’t really achieve very much – a bit of the first, second and fourth primaries and then I run out of time. Perhaps in the future, I don’t know.

The jam is pleasant enough – I get to return the Real Book that I ended up with after that sextet jam all those months ago, as the bass player who owned it turned up at the jam on his last night in England before he goes back to the States. He takes my address and promises to send mine to me, and I think he will.

Many bass players again. I should take a book with me. At the moment I’m working my way through David Foster Wallace’s A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again, given to me by Ben for that specific purpose. To read. Rather than (for example) propping up an uneven table or something. It’s very funny, IMHO, and I like the fact that he’s flippant about PoMo and Structuralism-and-after whilst both approving and knowing what he’s talking about – he makes me think of Tom Wolfe. I suppose that’s not an original comparison…

not banking it, I suspect

Reading the Guitar Craft diaries, I was struck by the notion that these courses (a Level III has just begun in Atlanta) generate a lot of energy that all we crafties can tap into if we want – perhaps we can make that energy available all the time. I use the energy by going to the gym, which is not banking it, I suspect.

Of course any crafty reading this will think “well, Duh! of course!” and anybody else will think “The boy’s mad!”, so I can’t really win. It’s a nice thought though.

Now counting down to Mendoza – a month until I leave. I do an hour’s practise observing myself in a mirror. I appear to have a hump when I have the guitar on, but cannot find a non-humpy way of holding it. After a half an hour my back starts to complain, too.

I do the BBC Test The Nation IQ test. I get 141, which is good, I think. And 135 (60/70) in the general knowledge, which is, obviously, less good. And 155 in the relationships quiz, which, I think, undermines the whole thing.