(obviously written, or rather, uploaded, bleedin ages later)Ministry of Sound launch new ISP, Razorfish do visuals. Lurvely night. Descended in to a mellow luv'd up-in back in Brixton. Curiously, I've never been in a situation where I'm dancing in a club whilst buzzing before. It's always been at parties or just in the company of people. It makes you realise what all that high-energy dance music is all about. Dancing like a fucker by 2am. What I love about it is the cuddliness. Another curious thing, how last time, having 2 on top of each other nearly wiped me out, I had one and a half, and it was fine. Fine because - I took the half about 4 hours after having the first. Here's to the occasional conquering of misery, even if it does mean you feel a bit queer on Wednesday afterwards.

Apropro of nothing: the Argo "Essential Michael Nyman Band" CD is fantastic. It's got the great "Draughtsman's contract" music on, and best of all, "Fish beach", which I had entirely forgotten existed, but remember loving beyond belief when I watched "Drowning By Numbers" on the box. It's such pure melancholy. It's like… I think I'd want it played at my funeral as "coming in" music, along with that Miles Davis… uh, dammit, I can't remember the name of the specific piece now, but it's on "In a silent Way", oh… surely one of the most beautiful albums of all time. Anyway. I'd recommend that Nyman to anyone. It's full of bravura and pomp, and delicacy, mournfulness and tremendously strong "get on with it" emotional rhythm. I can't really describe it, but, he's very "serious-get-up-and-go".

New keyboard. Feels wierd. Keep making amazingly stupid typos.

(bear in mind, I'm a bit pissed, and also, it's a good pitch so I'm prepared to be semi-taken in. Plus, bizarro, he was very well dressed, so at this point there's a very vague change that he might be a real doctor. Take look in trouser pocket, have three pounds fifty. Need £2.10 to get on the tube home)

-It's very kind of you, I'm sure that will be enough
-no, hang on a sec I was just checking to see how much I have
-that much will be fine I'm sure
-No, you see you don't understand, I need two pounds of this to get a tube home, so I can't give you all of it, but I can give you about eighty pence towards it, sorry it's not more

(look of disgust and horror from man)

-Can't you go to a cashpoint?
-I'm sorry?
-what cashpoint would you use?
-Er, Midland, your point?
-I'm sure you can just go up and get some money out. There's a Midland up around the corner (waves vaguely)
-where? Would you mind showing me? (amazed now, this is the cheekiest performance I've ever seen)
-No, you go, I'll wait here
-Pardon? Look, do you have any ID on you, I'm sorry to appear rude but I'm in a hurry to get home, I'm already late, you're asking me to go to a cashpoint and you're not even prepared to walk up with me?!
-Look, I told you, I left everything in the car (he's carrying a suspiciously off mobile phone and a jacket)
-I'm sincerely sorry if you really are a doctor but…
-Oh forget it, I'll go and ask someone else.

Strange-o.

Spent the whole day close to tears. Realised that the last thing I want to do is go to bloody sign language - I'll practice in the week.

If anything, the situation at work has got even worse than last week.

Phewooweee.

Ok, so take it as a downer after an evening of seratonin fuelled fun. Drug free, but you get the idea. Kai had to go to work, I had left my phone book at work and so I spent an entire day on my own, in that poxy white painted, grimy shoebox, thinking about all sorts of things. When it came to the evening, I had to sit through yet another fucking evening of Jesus H Christ, DS bloody 9, because kai was moaning and being unwell, so I couldn't just say "Please leave me alone, I have to go read a book or something to get my mind off this black pit I'm staring into".

When it came to going to bed, I sat in the bed, talked like an automaton about all the things on my mind and of course, started crying. At one point, the words "I was never supposed to do mediocre, and that's what I feel I've been for the past year" came out. Pretty much sums up a lot of shit going down right now, if in a self pitying, semi-pretentious way.
I was going to send a mail to a friend this morning, saying "I've lost the ability to even be self-deprecating funny". Right now, any self-criticism I have is cold and meaningful. So I know the main reason - the job, after that comes (and in equal second) living in that miserable house, and in equal positions, having achieved nothing that has made me feel good for a long time, and the re-growth of that old despised leech on my soul, the cysytic hygroma. I described it to Gavin today, and I feel as though I'm walking steps closer to how I felt when I was a kid. Standing there staring at the floor talking to Gav, saying "I just don't think I can go through that again", knowing that I don't have a choice. I can promise you - it doesn't matter whether you think you know - you don't. Misery is about as selfish and as subjective as it can get.

Saturday.

Bizarre.

Spent day clearing up and (joy of joys) defrosting the freezer (much worse than it sounds, I can assure you. Made even worse than usual by the fact that the plugs for the fridge were nowhere to be found, so the freezer was actually on the whole fucking time it was being doused with boiling water). I stop, and get changed to go see the divine Mr Hannon, and totally missed Mark Eitzel, which pained my heart for a wee while.

Of course, the second I got in the venue I ran in to Graham. For some reason I started the evening not wanting to run in to him, but as soon as I did, I thought - don't be so daft. The great thing was it was somewhat of an "everyone there" arrangement. Arthur, Ardal, Ken, Gray's sis Christine and her nice young blokey character. It was really, really nice. Had a long chat with all of them individually. Good for the soul. Had a very interesting chat with Ardal actually. It started off us talking about writing, and of course, the daft thing is - because it's Ardal, you know, I sort of forgot that he's written his novel, so about 30 seconds in, I remembered and we talked for a long time about how he came to actually writing it. Very thought provoking. Ken's album is out in a couple of weeks too. Amazing, you don't see people for ages, and they do stuff. Made me feel a bit… hmm…

We blagged extras in to the after show (obviously). A bit tight - but, oh God, more bizarro: I saw Mark Eitzel, standing on his own next to a wall. I mean, I almost walked straight past the guy, and since he was standing there, I said something along the lines of Mr Eitzel, great admirer of your work, are you doing more gigs, did the Rachels thing work out (etc, etc) to which I received bitter and grumpy replies from a man who not only obviously was very pissed of but seemed demoralised and bitter. The Rachels songs didn't work out, apparently, and he's skint and… well - at this point he just went "yeah, well. Bye" and walked off.
I felt terrible… so what are you supposed to say - I'm sorry you never went top 40? When you sing your voice sounds like the very heart of melancholy? When he came on and sang "Johnny Mathis' Feet" with the Divine Comedy, tears welled up in my eyes, for god's sake, it sounded so beautiful.

Never, ever meet people you admire under slightly strained circumstances.

Keith from Setanta - whooo boy, this was guaranteed to make me feel just great. I mean, I haven't seen the guy for a couple of years, so fair enough, but he touched the end of one of my scars and looked at it, by way of remembering who I was. He touched the scar. No one touches the scar. No fucking one. It freaked me out for a few moments. But, he's a good guy. Sounds like he's getting into some interesting stuff.
And no, I didn't get to talk to the boy genius. I was in a conversation which included him as a member, if that counts, but for Jaysus sake, like I say - never engineer a situation where you end up talking to someone. I literally haven't spoken to the bloke for about three years, he's got no more idea of who I am than bloody Adam.