some kind of party-goer quotient

Get up a little later than we’d like, sit, breakfast and H goes to work. I move all the stuff from the bathroom into the living room and shift the bathroom shelves. Everything needs a thorough clean.

I begin work, eventually asking whether they want to begin. Apparantly so.

The come and smash things in the bathroom and I carry on working. Eventually it turns out that they’ll need to finish the putting the bit of wall back work tomorrow, though we can use the toilet. On the plus side, he’s fixed something and given me useful advice vis-a-vis another problem we’ve had, and about which I feel a lot better.

I go to Lower Marsh and get a labeller for Juan, and a smaller espresso pot and a clothes hanger for us. There’s a little local difficulty with the debit card. I react very graspingly and suspiciously, as I did to the builder yesterday. Bah.

Get back, put up the hanger, wash the espresso maker, return the things to the bathroom. I’ll need to move them again tomorrow.

I leave the flat at 18:00 and take the tube (very crowded) to Windsor Road. Not as good a session today, but it was good to get back into it. Discussion of various things.

Catch bus and tube back to the flat. When I get on the train there’s a loud gang of partygoers at one end of the carriage. They get off at Bank, as another group are getting on at the other end of the carriage. As if there’s some kind of party-goer quotient that needs to be met.

Back at the flat eat dinner, watch Never Mind the Buzzcocks, and then do the Toast.

Orange soup, perhaps.

6:39 – Get up. Sitting, breakfast and H goes out at 8:10. Still have a slightly stiff neck.

A little bit of coding

Stretching, shave, shower, dress, then Moonshot, which I upload.

I have to send a nasty email regarding an unpaid invoice, and as a sort of karmic response get a call from Walker about my possibly not leaving the files shipshape the other day. Why do I have such blind spots sometimes.

Lunch: today I make a lot less rice, which is good. I’m also startled by how any calories are in a spoonful of mayonnaise.

In the afternoon I do Alex Rider stuff.

I go off to the Movements class at 18:10, just after Haru’s got home.

Not too crowded on the train.

Good class tonight. I take the opportunity to fail occasionally. I need to practise standing on one foot, which would help. So would being able to find a pair of the right kind of shoe that actually fits.

21:45 – Class over. Return home.

22:30 – Back in the flat. Haru’s made white soup – mmm! We discuss the possibility of other coloured soups. Orange soup, perhaps.

Yes, I know that makes no sense whatsoever.

9:00 – Get up. Actually I woke up a bit earlier. It appears that this end of the year is the “free lie-in” end.

To the supermarket.

On my return, I put newly-bought batteries in the labeller and label something. A world of categorising awaits.

I also do some coding, writing a page that will allow me to calculate personal biometric type stuff.

And I go out for a run – same route as last time, but a bit more rubbish, which is a shame.

Get back, shower, lunch and a long call from Denise about getting a new Mac.

Afternoon dithering, mostly. Looking into AJAX stuff, which tends to make my brain bubble slightly. I must be allergic to Javascript. Yes, I know that makes no sense whatsoever.

Dinner is pork chops, and in the evening we watch a documentary about Abigail’s Party and the ITV 4 history of punk. Much better than the BBC 2 series about rock, on recently, which surprises me slightly. I’m still faintly disturbed by the notion of “the most important band in the world”. How important is that, then? In cosmic terms?

It goes on and on, too.


Crawl out of bed at 10:30.

H has bought excellent cheese and cinnamon buns for breakfast.

I’ve developed a dreadful up-the-back-of-my-neck-ache.

What’s left of the morning, and the beginning of the afternoon are spent on another JGB talk. Then a long shower, with a jet of hot water pointed at the back of my neck. Then I get dressed and walk up to the centre of town, visiting various shops but not buying anything.

Back at the flat I write a quick bit of code, and then go out with Haru.

We spend a long time waiting for a 168 – at least twice as long as the maximum wait time – as the tube is down, and eventually it delivers us to Camden Town. Have a Scorpio Birthday Drink with Juan, but don’t stay long as it’s a bit loud for us.

We take a 24 (which turns up a lot quicker) to Drummond Street, and have dinner at Chutney’s. It seems that Laurence Corner is dead, which isn’t entirely surprising, but a bit sad.

Lovely dinner though – H has Papar Dosa, and I have Paneer Dosa.

Then we walk to Euston and catch a bus home. I stop off at the corner shop and get chocolate. Then we watch a bunch of TV. And the clocks go back or forward tonight, I’m not sure which. I’m sure I’ll find out tomorrow.

it seems a bit… grabby, somehow

Oversleep a bit. It’s still dark when we get up, but not middle-of-the-night dark.

Breakfast, and H goes to work.

Eventually I stretch, clean and get down to JGB-ing.

My mother has sent a cheque for my birthday, which is nice of her. However, she’s made it out to John Peacock, and John is not my first name. Consequently my bank won’t accept the cheque. I’m not sure what to do about this, as phoning up to mention it seems a bit… grabby, somehow. I mail my sister to ask whether she can casually mention it sometime.

I realise this is probably not wholly psychologically sound.

Still, my mother got my name wrong.

Juan calls to suggest having a Scorpio-birthdays celebration tomorrow.

After lunch I go out, not to the bank, but to Ryman’s, to get a labeller which I saw in there a couple of weeks ago. Today, however, it’s available half-price. The woman behind the counter decides that I’ve also volunteered to buy a box of the batteries for it. Slightly peeved by this manipulative upselling, I tell her that I already have batteries.

I stop in at Gramex, which is feeling healthier than it has recently. There’s been a change in ownership, I think, but not a change in being. It’s still London’s premiere spot for middle-aged men to spend hours just browsing. I feel a vocation coming on.

Back at the flat I check up regarding a query about one of the Moon Shot spreads, and complete the JGB.

I don’t try the labeller, as I don’t actually have any batteries. Still, it was a blow for the individual against the system. I am not a number, after all, I’m a human being. Technically.

Haru gets home.

As we’re probably going to be out tomorrow, I go and get fish and chips tonight. It’s very busy indeed in there. It still seems like the one chap holding it together.

After fish and chips, watch a documentary about Jacques Brel, QI and other television. As I’m writing there’s an attempt by Kaiser Chiefs to jolly up their frankly rather lumpen and dispiriting thrumming with ethnic drummers and orchestral arrangements. I’m not sure it’s working. Bed soon probably, then.

Perhaps I should just be suffering

6:40 – Get up. The usual morning routine.

Today I start more slowly, and do the moon shot stuff when I do.

I also get a lift to Walker’s to pick up the package that my sister sent to there, and to buy knee supports (for running, and to protect my knees during kneeling-intensive Movements, though perhaps I shouldn’t admit that. Perhaps I should just be suffering).

Lunch, etc.

I go out for a run just as H is getting home – round by Westminster. However it’s not as good as the one the other day: I had too much for lunch, and my body complains about having to carry all the dead weight.

Back at the flat shower, and have dinner. After dinner veg out in front of the TV.

Also I’ve been introduced to Frinting, which is a fairly addictive pasttime. It also gives me a chance to use a joke that was too obscure to tell anyone, and the repression was torturing me.

either way, it’s a good thing

6:37 – Get up, grudgingly. Sitting. Breakfast. And H goes out at 8:00-ish.

When I try to connect to the internet on that faltering Powerbook there’s no connection, so I try on the desktop, the same. I need to restart the router, which hardly ever happens.

I do stretching, shaving, showering and dressing and go to Walker.

In the middle of that the bulb in the hallway fails: this is the first time one of the modern energy-saving bulbs has died on me.

Today isn’t bright, and I don’t really have as much energy as yesterday, but I’m not doing badly.

Get to Walker, find a machine to work on and do the Mouse, with a break for lunch. During lunch I call my father to check whether a bright idea I’ve had might qualify as a good one. He seems to think it might.

By five I’m done until next week probably. Everybody seems to be in quite a good mood, which is unusual at this stage in a project. Perhaps we’re putting effort into it (either the project or the staying in a good mood – either way, it’s a good thing).

When I get home I add the Stairwell Sessions to the albums, and the version of River Rise as a podcast. In the middle of doing this, H comes home, and I run the idea past her, too.

At 19:30 we go downstairs and have dinner at La Dolce Vita. Lovely, with wine and a liqueur to finish that I can’t quite place, but seems to be made from cherries. H gives my my present (lovely Caran D’Ache cufflinks, as I’m into the cufflink thing at the moment). Back upstairs for tea.

tailor made for an orang utan

4:30 – Wake up and find it difficult to get back to sleep. A lot of energy appears to have become available. I find that I can watch the random words traipsing across my consciousness, or at least think I can. After all, who can reliably say anything about their state of mind at that time in the morning. At any rate, it would be an interesting thing to try some time.

6:47 – Get up, sit, breakfast.

H goes to work, I continue preparing. Today I wear the brown pinstripe suit I got on Saturday. I seemed to fit alright at the time, but today I notice that the jacket is very big, with very long sleeves, and the trousers quite short. I come to the conclusion that it was tailor made for an orang utan. I repeat this conclusion to people several times through the day.

I leave for Walker at 9:45, stopping off to post the package to Hachette. Quite costly, really.

Get to Walker. Return to Maisying, with a break for lunch. The desk I’m working at is moved into a more prominent place, next to the tea and coffee station, so when I fall asleep at four o’clock it’s noticed. Four o’clock is the danger time for falling asleep, I don’t know why.

While the desk is being moved, I sit on the balcony in the sun, which is very agreeable indeed.

Leave to come home at 18:15. Get home, then go for a run. In the last couple of runs it’s gone from Late Summer Mode to Winter Mode. On the upside, fewer tourists.

Return, shower, dinner by H and watch Ripping Yarns and Screenwipe amongst other things.

The burst of energy has continued through the day, apart from four o’clock. of course.

the increased kneeling

6:3-something: Get up. Sitting, breakfast, H to work, ironing, stretching, shave, shower, dress, dinosaurs.

I kind of get stuck on the dinosaurs, though. I’m surprised they took as long as they did. Basically all day, which is annoying as I had other things I wanted to do.

At 17:00 I go to the sports shop at Canada Water shopping centre and buy two knee support things, then take the tube to Baron’s Court for the movements. The knee things were recommended considering the increased kneeling that’s going to take place. It appears I’m a lightweight, although if I was a lightweight I’d have less of a knee problem. There’s turning tonight. Turning is good.

At 21:45 the class ends and I catch the tube to Green Park, then have to wait (as the system’s a bit shagged today), getting home at 22:30. Drink tea, eat nuts and consider the first Facebook request from someone I don’t think I’ve met. Not sure what the etiquette is.

a miasma of judgement

Creep out of bed at 9:10 and go to the supermarket at 9:45.

When I get back I iron the shirts I got yesterday.

Out for a run – lovely weather, offset by the cold, which is quite pleasant. The tourists haven’t really gone home, though. I careen off a couple on Tower Bridge.

The amount (or lack) of focus and presence of most people (including myself, I suppose, because instead of presence I had a miasma of judgement regarding other people’s lack of same) is extraordinary. It strikes me that the ability to see the extent of mechanical actions upon one’s being (reflected in the ability to see it in other people) is a degree of freedom, an increased dimension. One can see someone’s state of being written in their face, their posture. One can see into them in some ways, although a lot of the time it might be difficult to interpret.

Home, shower, and have lunch.

After lunch I put guitar and vocal takes onto a track I began programming on Friday. The guitar goes OK, but I think I’ll need to do the vocals again – too close-miked, I think. There are some harmonies, though, which are quite fun, and which I think I’ll leave.

Dinner is excellent semi-Japanese food by H, after which we have extraordinary chocolate, followed by Archaology night on BBC 4, sherry and an outline of what we’ll do next week. I, for example, will get incrementally older.