Monday Messages: UPDATED MORE

I'm just listening to an mp3 someone emailed me, with a view to doing some collaboration. The stuff I have been receiving has primarily been funk/fusion/drum 'n' bass, which isn't really what I had been looking to do, but which could be interesting nevertheless.

The track is funky and interesting, but more trance-y than I would usually go for. Actually this sort of music ('electronica' as iTunes likes to call it) isn't my cup of tea, but it would be interesting to explore and see what I can do with it. It would be, I suppose, interesting to combine my jazz leanings with this sort of fast, beat-based stuff.

I'm meeting Janie (cello lady) on Wednesday, so I'm excited and a bit nervous about that. The bridge on my cello is still broken, so I hope she doesn't expect me to bring it along and do an impromtu improvisation on the A-string. It couldn't be worse than another 'audition' I went to once, where they tried to make me do an impromptu improvisation on a G-string. If you know what I mean. (True story. I'm not going into it. Except to tell you that, no, I did not oblige.)

It's not an audition on Wednesday, just a few drinks. I like meeting new people so on that basis alone I am excited. Tonight I have my therapy, which was so good last week I wanted to hug her and promise her my first born child. I didn't do either of these things, as I think both would have disconcerted her.
It's not until seven forty-five and it's about twenty minutes from my office, where I finish at six. I am just going to hang around and cause trouble somewhere for a bit. Perhaps graffiti some stuff. Not in artistic way, just destructive and annoying, perhaps just in black marker pen, things like "MICHELLE IS A SLAG" and "DEREK SUX COK". Just for fun, you understand. In truth, Michelle and Derek are two of my best friends, and their work for charity is unsurpassed.

The rehearsals went very well over the weekend, they were exhausting but we got loads done. I'm looking forward to the actual concert now, and have a inkling that it might actually be quite good. When I say that I am touching wood, of course, although not in the way Derek does, I'm just being superstitious.

I am still very tired, but this week I am concentrating on catching up on sleep and resting. When I say 'this week' I mean tonight and tomorrow night, because I have plans for Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. Not so much with the restful, then. Oh, shitsticks.

Well, despite having absolutely nothing of interest to impart, I have managed to write some words.

We could do one of those things where you, the readers, the screaming fans, ask me questions in the comments and I answer them in updates? If you want. You don't have to, I don't mind. Which is my way of protecting myself so that if nobody asks me any questions I can pretend I didn't care in the first place. It really works. Everybody is definitely fooled.

UPDATE!

Ant asked me a question! He's a special boy.

Q: How's the mouse situation? Any more screaming, lopsided-bonnet events?

A: The mouse situation has quietened down somewhat. I think that after the episode-of-which-we-do-not-speak-without-one-hand-on-the-smelling-salts the mouse had decided to retreat slightly. Which isn't to say he has given up. A tactical retreat whilst he regroups, that's what this is.

I can imagine him sitting patiently in his little underskirtingboard lair behind the kitchen cupboards, staring at the CCTV footage of the aforementioned episode and drumming the little claws of its left paw (front) on a small but nevertheless impressive mahogany-effect desk. Swivelling around in the tiny leather chair he presses a little button, at which point two thick metal doors swing open on one side of the lair, revealing a map of the flat and some large, black and white photographs of me going about my daily life: cooking; washing; watching Charmed; bent in unwavering concentration over a crayon drawing of a magical pony. He pauses in his drumming for a second, and a look of pain shoots across his face as, whiskers twitching in consternation, he tries to eradicate the screams that still echo in his ears. The nightmares haunt him still, every night he is forced re-live the panic of running in terror as I screamed and screamed. He considers for just a second that the nightmares might have something to do with eating so much cheese before bed, but dismisses the thought. This, he thinks as he resumes drumming, goes beyond that.

As he stares at my form captured on camera he ponders his revenge. The drawing pins were good, but he knows the scars are fading and I am no longer afraid to walk in my bedroom. He has to up the stakes. It is, and of this we are both certain, only a matter of time.

In other words, yeah, it's alright, thanks.

Now from Kelly:

Q: Your house is on fire (um...sorry) and all family / flatmates / mice have made it out safely (phew) you have enough time to grab just one thing. What do you take?

A: That mouse. Probably started it, the little fucker.

Maybe my cello, although it would impede my progress down the stairs. Or my computer, as it has all my songs on it. My copy of Haroun and the Sea of Stories. I don't know, really.

Would you judge me if I chucked the mouse back in?

From Curly:

Q: Where are my bloody house-keys?

A: Oh my God. The mice have got to you, too. Be afraid.

From Adrian:

I changed the light fittings in my flat, which has resulted in a big white square painted on my ceiling that is clearly not the same white as the rest of my ceiling and is clearly ugly.

The question is

Part A: How long is it acceptable to live with this condition before repainting the ceiling a uniform white.

If I am repainting the ceiling, I'm going to repaint the entire flat. So the question remains

Part B: What colour should I paint my walls.

A:
Part A. Well, if I were you I would claim it's post-postmodern. Nobody knows what that means so they'll just nod knowingly and go with it. Perhaps the white square on the ceiling represents the changes and sacrifices we all have to make in the interests of modern living. The fact is that every time something is adapted to make things 'easier' or 'more convenient' (or, in your case, so that you can 'see stuff') our lives are altered in a subtle, but noticable, way, moving away from an organic state of being towards a modern (post-post) reliance on the application of technology. The new white square is symbolic of the fact that, although things may seem to be the same, they are irrevocably different and everything else must be adapted to incorporate this new technology.

So, basically, I don't know. Leave it and call it art.

Part B. Do a mural. A scene. Of a party, perhaps, or a zoo. Or a party at a zoo. Or, something. I am not massively helpful, am I?


Miss D - My question is - whenever shall you come visit us in the states? All the way to Seattle? We could also visit the recently relocated Lady Missmarquise in Vancouver, BC. Two birds, my dear, two birds!

A. I would LOVE to. I have no money, though. I would really, really actually love to. Seattle always looks lovely. Actually, my knowledge of Seattle is rather limited. I have seen the film (more than) a few times and I therefore know that it rains and people have telephones with really long cords so they can sit on their decks and discuss their heartbreak.

I'm going to start swimming now.