In Which I Have Nothing To Talk About, But Nevertheless Persist In Talking

I have had a haircut. I am not sure which part of me decided to do it, as I have been happy with my hair recently. My brain certainly was against the idea, as was my hair. I blame my upper left ventricle, or possibly my mother.

I have felt recently that, like me, my hair is a touch on the messy side but generally well-meaning. Armed with the knowledge that I really didn't want it cut, I took myself off to a hairdressing place down the road, where a very short lady wielding scissors did exactly that. It is now neat and normal, and I am neither of those things.

I am sad about my hair. However, I am aware that there are things going on in the world which have an even more profound effect on our civilisation and its future, so I will talk about them instead.

I think I have seen every single episode of Charmed. In short, this means that there is no mystery left for me on this Earth. I haven't been watching a lot of Charmed recently, but I have been thinking about it and have come to the conclusion that maybe I've seen all of them. I had always hoped in my heart that one day I would be delighted by a vision of those implausibly pneumatic sisters battling some new evil in their impractical shoes and smudge-proof lip gloss. If you have never watched Charmed I strongly recommend you don't, as your opinion of me may well plummet irreparably once you experience for yourself the object of my obsession.

The tube strike is very annoying. I appreciate that the workers must fight for their cause, I really do. It's just that I do so like the Victoria Line. It's quick and endearingly bouncy, and it saddens me to see the black slashes of tape over the entrances, even just for a week.

I think I have some kind of illness-bug. I feel sick and there is considerable pain in my stomach. I hope this goes some way towards explaining why I am rambling incoherently about terrible television shows and bouncy public transport. I am worried that it is foot and mouth disease, contracted in Norfolk the other weekend when that big bull licked me on the leg. Does anyone know the symptoms? In a minute I shall go and scare myself senseless on the NHS website.

The music on Sunday went brilliantly. Within about an hour the stuff we were doing felt better than it has done after spending months in studios. The reggae version of one song sounds ace, and I have lots to be getting on with before we next meet. We're creating tracks but also live versions, so that I can perform my own stuff properly very soon.

Also I was wondering whether anyone could help me. I have been setting myself writing/music tasks everyday to practice being more prolific and also escape the belief that every single thing I record must be perfect. I would quite like to be able to post the results up here so I give myself some kind of goal and also to track my progress. I probably wouldn't post every single one, but if I posted my experiments a few times a week I think it would be a good incentive for me, and also I could perhaps get some feedback. It's ever so lonely being creative on my own. In Charmed at least there are three of them.

Does anybody have any ideas as to how I can do that? If you do please comment or email me, I would really super-appreciate it.

I am off now to wonder whether I have a stomach bug or whether in fact I am just being punished by God for kicking all those kittens, but not before I have spent a little bit of time moaning to myself about my certain and imminent death.