Surprised I didn’t bump into anything. Or anything into me.

An amazing day, weather-wise – the first properly summery day I can remember this year, and it’s almost October. The weather is definitely playing sadistic games: “Remember days can be like this? If you’re very good, I’ll give you another one. Maybe But you have to be very good.”
That said, I get halfway to Walker and I have to turn around and go back for my entry pass, so by the time I get there I’m really rather sweaty, so there is a downside to the nice weather.
Sit on the balcony after lunch, in the sunshine. Which is also nice.
Read on my phone on the way home. Surprised I didn’t bump into anything. Or anything into me.
Make dinner, and afterwards try to do stuff, but my head’s too bubbly, so I just watch Doctor Who and search for TV themes.

in the cupboard, with a break for soup

Up early, but given that I needed to do a bit of something, and then walk over to East Street to get vegetables (and then shower), into Walker very late. Bah.
Maisying in the cupboard, with a break for soup.
Home, then out for a run in the gathering dusk – up over Southwark Bridge and then round to Westminster and then home. It’s still difficult getting past the tourists on Westminster Bridge. Home. Another shower and then dinner. After dinner write an apologia for It Ain’t Half Hot Mum, which is, I freely confess, an odd thing to do.

trying to find a long enough route where I’m not constantly going to be bumping into people

During the day, manage to do a thirty-minute run – it’s not a very big envelope, but I’m pushing it as far as I can – up over past Tate Britain, then back down Kennington Lane, round by Dante Road. Essentially trying to find a long enough route where I’m not constantly going to be bumping into people.
In the afternoon over to Hammersmith to see Polly’s Open Studio exhibition – fascinating to see her paintings evolve year on year. Nice long chat. The river over there is especially impressive at sunset, this time of year.
Home via the Portuguese restaurant in Vauxhall, where we have big plates of steak and stuff, with Portuguese football on the large TVs and someone playing sentimental ballads on a home keyboard in the corner. Quite nice. Then get some custard tarts and go home to eat them with tea, after which I do some archiving and watch yesterday’s Doctor Who again.

Anatomical logic suggests that that makes us the arseliners.

The day’s a bit of a blur. I go for a long run (long by recent standards) over Southwark Bridge, then along the north embankment. The tourists haven’t gone home yet, sadly.

Home, shower, lunch, prepare to go out.

In the evening to Acton, where I’m playing guitar for Phil Jeays. On the tube, I’m sitting opposite a cellist.

At the other end it takes a while, but I finally locate the venue, where the headliner are still soundchecking. Then the second band (who have lots of electronic gear, and work quite efficiently to make sure it all does what it’s supposed to) who I suppose are the torsoliners do their soundcheck while we have a drink. And then We go on to check that everything works and play. Anatomical logic suggests that that makes us the arseliners.

Off for a bit, I drink a free shot that’s offered me (unprofessional, I know, but what the hell. It tastes faintly of cherries, and reminds me a bit of cough mixture).

I learn some things: There are several chords in Phil’s that after nearly thirteen years I still don’t have under my fingers (though there are many that I do); I really should insist on using the preamp with the guitar, otherwise it sounds a bit thin; I’m really quite old. I suppose I knew that anyway.

I go downstairs to the bar to buy old man’s beer. There’s another band playing down there, which contains the cellist who was on the tube earlier. I suppose she must have found the venue even harder to find than me. A lot more sedate than upstairs, where it’s jumpin’.
I sneak home before the headliners go on, leaving the young people to their fun.

I get off at Embankment to enjoy the walk over the footbridge, and buy a kebab on the way home. Mmm, health food!

Lots of programmes about Pink Floyd on. Am struck by the fact that they were a really good band, something that’s easily forgotten when you know the albums that well. Actually they seem to have been at least four really good bands.

remarkably animated in their desperation to attract attention

Another Walker/Maisy day, with LASAGNE for lunch, which I probably ought not to have had, but I did, so.
Work being what it is, if you take the office bit out of the day, there’s not much left.
Walk up to the Conway Hall for the Bennett Group in the evening. Remarkable the number of vehicles and people that get between me and where I’m trying to get to. The South Bank still hasn’t quietened down for the autumn, for example (in addition to the post-work crowd and the people on bicycles who are committed to treating the South Bank as a dedicated cycle path. And the Living Statues, some of whom have become remarkably animated in their desperation to attract attention).
After the meeting, walking home across Waterloo Bridge, I see that a sizeable crowd has gathered outside the National Theatre to watch the production from on of the stages inside being projected onto a large screen. I assume they’ve been doing that for a long time, and this is just the first time I’ve noticed. I’m not really noticing particularly well at the moment.
Home, dinner (courtesy of H), some noodling, some emails and bed.

Quite a clean day, I think, on the whole.

Into Walker to worship at the feet of the mouse, but before that I have to walk across to East Street to buy fruit and vegetables (stopping at Tesco for tinned beans and toilet paper, a combination which no doubt is setting off all sorts of snarky remarks in your head, but use this as an opportunity to practise restraint). Home. Shower gingerly (so as not to leak too much into downstairs), then off to Walker, where I end up juggling three jobs and getting confused.
Home, then go out for a run. The South Bank is increasingly free of visitors (and completely clear of festivals and flat-bed trucks full of dancing people, which was an obstacle on Sunday), and I manage to run further than previously, which feels quite good. Also there’s the last of what must have been quite a sunny day, which also helps.
Another tentative shower. Quite a clean day, I think, on the whole.
After dinner, an emergency font job (hope that slots in neatly to tomorrow morning) and writing a lot of emails while listening to the majestic new St Vincent album and various progressive sounds.

my body is suggesting that the pump was less than honest

Up. After a fashion. They’d run out of honest British beer at the pub last night, so I had a couple of glasses of some Belgian concoction, which the pump assured me was the same strength. This morning my body is suggesting that the pump was less than honest about that. Or perhaps my body is just flaunting its age again.
As I’m showering, the people from the shop downstairs alert my attention to the fact that I appear to be leaking onto them. Darn. Not sure what I’m going to do. Possibly the seal around the edge of the bath.
Out to Walker for general Maisyfication.
Go via Tesco on the way back, to buy milk and yoghurt. Realise that I didn’t have to go that far out of my way, but only after I was that far out of my way anyway.
Home. Dinner. Some soundfile cleaning and looking at editing together photos and videos of an event I couldn’t attend on Friday because I was travelling back from Cambridge.

(SPOILER: today I succeed!)

The day…
I can’t go out properly (which means not going into work) because someone needs to be in to get the door, and today it’s me. I try converting the video again (SPOILER: today I succeed!) and do other, less important things.
I go off to Mette’s for my last singing lesson of this batch, which is, as usual, very useful. From there I go up to somewhere-near-Archway where a secret VAC is happening.
Well, not really secret, but Tom suggested meeting up and playing in a pub which was going to be quiet anyway. Magnificent room. Yes, quiet. A lovely couple who agreed to be audience for the night. An adequate PA. I play, Teppei plays, Rob plays, Tom plays (with the PA), then we go round again (without the PA) and I noodle while they play and the don’t tell me to stop. The Acoustic is lovely, but we need the PA.
A stealth semi-open-mic is proposed.
I stagger home drunk and consume sandwiches. Possibly not the best angle to approach a work day from.

tend upwards towards infinity

Didn’t go to the market today. Which I ought to have done, as much as I ought not, probably, to have made pancakes for breakfast, but then it’s been Indulgence Week, so pancakes and no market it was.
The day was spent continuing to try to get this video into an uploadable form – I downloaded the new Compressor and set it up for distributed render, but it’s still throwing Estimated Times of Arrival at me that tend upwards towards infinity. Consequently I don’t get many other things done. A lot of copying files I’ll need from CD to the computer, which I suppose is productive. Watching yesterday’s Doctor Who again, as is my wont.
In the evening I go for a run – I decide to go down the river, as although it’s Sunday, I thought given the inclement weather and the Septemberness of it all, it might be a bit quieter. But they were having a festival. Instead of trying to dodge hundreds of people, I would have been trying to dodge thousands were it not for the fact that I began dodging down side streets. I probably ought to pay attention. I try to get annoyed by it … I am annoyed by it, actually … but given that they outnumber me by the many thousands, and they do all seem to be having fun (rather than just having a desultory jog) I suppose they do outrank me.
Home, shower, dinner, watch the suitably dumb second Fantastic Four movie, a few minutes of National Lampoon’s Animal House (which still deserves the accolade “Most Puerile Film I’ve Ever Seen”, though it waves its puerility like a freak banner, it’s almost inspiring) and a few minute of The Road to Wellville (a film so odd the fact that it exists at all should inspire awe and astonishment)

I will have to get back to non-indulgence

Spent the day editing the video from Cambridge. No, actually, spent a fraction of the day editing the video from Cambridge, then converting it into a form that can be uploaded, which still isn’t successfully completed. I think my hitherto genial relationship to FCPX might have hit a hitch.
First thing, walk up to the shop and get bacon, sausage and other healthy foods, and then make a stonking great breakfast. I will have to get back to non-indulgence next week, though.

Then that editing / not-uploading.
Trying to think of anything else of value I might of done, and I can’t think of anything. Apart from getting fish and chips. And watching Doctor Who and The Last Night of the Proms (fish and chips actually came between them).