2009: The Year of the Updated Myspace!

In an unprecedented flurry, I am about to write my second post this week. This can only be due to my new-found dedication and motivation, and is nothing to do with the fact that I don't have anything with which to fill my time because I am a) jobless and b) penniless.

Ben has lent me his loop pedal, which I have fitted to my pre-amp and then my amp, so I have been practising this evening. It was all going wonderfully until I decided to see whether I could make new effects by pressing and twisting the "flange" (yes) and turning the volume up. The effect created was one I shall henceforth call "Torment And Pain In The Belly Of The Underworld". It scared me so much that I turned everything off and scampered off into the other room, to cower at my computer for a bit. It made the room vibrate so much that a copy of Woman And Home slipped off the table (n.b. this belongs to my Grandmother, although I sometimes do still read the problem pages, so that when my children leave home or I become incontinent I will know what to do).

In other music news: I have finally updated my myspace page! After only two years I have made some changes, and added another song. It is one of the songs I recorded straight onto my computer, just layering up vocal tracks on top of one another. It was recorded in my bedroom in Brixton, so the only sound you can hear apart from my voice is that of the buses rumbling, and the sounds of people spilling out of the Brixton Academy across the road. It is not a new song, in fact I recorded that in 2007. It is still the most complex a cappella one that I have ever done.

See what you think, and please tell me. Bear in mind that I am not, nor can I ever imagine being, a producer, so the levels/length, etc, are unspeakably amateur and horrible.

It is called Do Something, and it is HERE on my myspace.

Ben has gone to Cumbria for a week, to do a week of hermit-like re-writing of his one man show. He toured with it last year, but he wants to change it, and apparently he can't do it at home, because the cat distracts him. So off he went this morning, having made me some hummus to take home with me. I was not allowed to take the cat, which I deem very unfair.

I have been making continued efforts to find gainful employment. This has involved trawling round cafés, walking up to the counter smiling in a way that I hope is not threatening and/or manic, and tacitly begging for a job. Most of them have seemed very positive, but I am wise enough to know what this means, so I am going around tomorrow, and the next day, and the next until someone lets me make coffee and tell them jokes. Today I was chatting with a friend and he mentioned that there were some jobs going. I asked what they were and he said, oh, it's just on the phones, in some office, but... I cut him off. No office work. Not a chance. I will find something else. Thank you.

I have found a choir to join, which is cool. I have never been one for choirs, but the idea of singing regularly and meeting lots of people is an appealing prospect at the moment. I am also going along to the Social Media Café, which is a bit intimidating, because I know nothing about computers, not really. I'm going because I am curious, and I would like to know what other people in Manchester do with their online obsessions.

It is frozen up here. The sky hangs, grey and weighty. It feels like the daylight is so fleeting, and the minute I leave the house my fingers and toes lose all feeling.

Today, though, I was walking from Ben's house in Rusholme to get the bus into town. There is a tiny piece of park that serves as a shortcut, and I took it. The path was bright white amid the silver-topped scrub land. The dim light that leaked from the sky bounced from it onto my face, becoming bright and comforting. A man was coming the other way, black hood pulled up, hands pushed into his pockets. He was singing loudly, his song Indian-sounding to my naive ears. As we passed each other he grinned widely at me and did a slippery dance on the icy snow.

"Hey!" he shouted through his smile. "It's OK! You can just GLIDE!"

I laughed and carried on walking, smiling down at the frozen path.

"Yeah" I thought. "I can just glide."

I liked him, and his care-free slippery dancing. This year I resolve not to worry to so much, and free myself up to glide.

Now I am going to tentatively go back into the other room and have more loop-pedal adventures.