Escape

Days like today make me want Out. I’m a city kid, but today, I want nothing more than to drive down country lanes with summer music playing very loud, stop to buy cold drinks and picnic food in a village in the middle of nowhere, and watch the sun set from the top of a hill with a summer breeze in my hair. I need to get away from humans, and just relax away from anything that means anything. Just forget all those little, trivial things, and remind myself of what’s really important.

The best I can do is go and eat ice-cream down by the Thames in Putney. Whatever it was I did in my former life, I’m sorry.

Visuals 2

I’m just testing how well this looks with images slapped into it, before I make my mind up on a re-design. The photo is the alleyway opposite my office, heading toward the bus station. I’m sure you’re all fscainated to know that. I wouldn’t mention it, only I need some text to fill up the space, so I’m just churning out inane crap.

I probably ought to have done the sensible thing and used the Latin that newspapers use for sample copy.

Writeup

Before the new toy, though, the weekend.

Fucking brilliant is almost close, I suppose. Finished off a column that I’m actually pretty pleased with, one that’s spitting bile and hate, even by my standards. Look for it on Friday at Ninth Art. Then Saturday evening, it was off to Uptight. I don’t know if I’ve ever enjoyed a club as much. I used to love The Mission in Edinburgh, but even that wasn’t quite the right music for me. I certainly spent as much (total) time on the dancefloor as I have at any club I’ve ever been to, barring one night at Rock Raider, when I was 17 and had much, much more energy than I do today. Given how hard it is to get me on the dancefloor, this is a serious achievement. They didn’t play every act I’d been looking forward to on the playlist, but that’s just an excuse to go again, in my book.

Sunday I spent mooching about Richmond with Andrew and Andrea. A lovely, relaxed day with fine food, excellent views and good company, although between all the exercise yesterday and the dancing on Saturday, I am now in several kinds of agony. More reasons to get in shape, right there.

Failure

Oh well. Experiment in posting via AvantGo was unsuccessful. More work on this later, I guess. More news on the new toy, as well.

Dancing

Went clubbing last night. For the first time in years, I went a nightclub that can actually make me get up and use the dancefloor. I ache all over.

Result!

Playlist

At work, the technical department is in a separate room. We tend to have music playing, because we can, using the G4 Mac as a jukebox. Now, I know my musical taste doesn’t agree with most of the office, so I listen to my own music on headphones. But a while back, while trying to make a tape for the trip to Bristol, I copied a bunch of MP3s over to the Mac so that I could burn them to CD.

Someone has started them playing, which I’m certainly not complaining about. But this is a room where you’re all you’re normally likely to hear something chilled and ambient, or Another Generic Ibiza Album. Right now, this is the playlist:

New Model Army – Vengance

Dead Kennedys – Holday in Cambodia

Joan Jett – Bad Reputation

Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds – Papa Won’t Leave You Henry

The Pixies – River Euprates

Ramones – It’s Not My Place (In The 9 To 5 World)

Buzzocks – Boredom

The Fall – How I Wrote Elastic Man

Stiff Little Fingers – Alternative Ulster

The Birthday Party – Zoo-Music Girl

The Undertones – Teenage Kicks

The Only Ones – Another Girl, Another Planet

No-one seems to have the nerve to turn it off.

Refrain

Apparently, my friends think I’m a miserable bastard. In a good way, presumably, because these people are my friends. But I remain confused by this. I’ve been confused by it for years, although it’s been some time since I was accused of it. Perhaps people have just given up telling me I’m a miserable bastard. I doesn’t really bother me, although it used to. I just find it amusing that one group of people can ask me if I ever stop smiling (not often, apparently), while another can accuse me of a miserable bastard.

Because, y’know, I think I’m generally quite cheerful. I laugh at the world. It’s a ridiculous and lunatic place, and I love it as much as I hate it.

Like I say, I’m just amused that people think me a miserable bastard. Unpleasant and cynical, I could buy. Slightly neurotic lately, true. But miserable always leaves me faintly confused.

I swear, I will never understand you humans.

Feeling Good

Apparently, I am “disgustingly lucid” this morning, according to my co-workers. Mind you, this may have something to do with the fact they they were out on the town last night, while I only had two drinks, a lot of water, and a rather nice dinner last night. Yeah, I’m feeling chirpy. This is quite unnatural for me.