Colindale, London, England // 2.51 pm // Mostly sunny 10ºc / 50ºf
Scheduled day off today, so I did what I usually do on day off - cook. Although I started off the day by waiting for the guy from British Gas Homecare to come round and repressurise the boiler. He was schedule to come round between 8am and 1pm, and thankfully I only had to wait for an hour. He took 10 minutes or so to do the job. Turn's out there are two ways to repressurise our boiler - the way that it says in the manual, and that for some reason I couldn't manage. And the second way, which I just found about today, is as simple as turning a tap. Job done.
After that, and a shower, I headed to Asda to get ingredients for tonight's meal, Sichuan soup. On the way I spoke to my mum and John on the phone, and had a call from my Aunt Donna in Perth who was having problems with her internet connection.
Made some lunch when I got back to the flat, then made the Sichuan soup, which was actually quite quick and simple. I had a quick taste when it was done, and I'm actually amazed. It looks and tastes fantastic! Looking forward to having that later tonight. Before then I need to go to the radio station in Tower Hamlets and do the last rehearsal for Grooveline and finalise the plans for the relaunch.
Heard today that the TV channel Trouble is closing down at the end of the month. I remember when the channel launched in 1997, I believe out of the old TCC channel. I did watch Trouble for a while not long after it launched, but haven't done so for many years. Still, sad to see a channel disappear which, to an extent, I grew up with.
Tuesday, 24 March 2009
Monday, 23 March 2009
Friday, 20 March 2009
It's a jazz day
Colindale, London, England // 4.22 pm // Mostly sunny 11ºc / 52ºf
I don't quite know how many of my blog posts have been named after a lyric of the song I'm listening to at the time, but I know it's many. And it's happened again here, thanks to Robin Blamires' special jazzy show as part of Smoke Radio's marathon broadcast last week. Robin, if you're reading this, I did intend to wake up to listen to the show. My alarm even woke me up at 4.55am, but I just couldn't pull myself out of bed. So thank you for the link!
Been a few weeks since the last blog. Something that I have been doing every week is going to the radio station in East London to do some more rehearsals for my forthcoming radio show, the resurrection of Grooveline. I've not been giving specific details about the show or station until it is concrete, but we are almost there. At the moment it looks like the show will be launching, available online, on Tuesday 31st March at 7pm till 8pm, and will be so weekly. I've been really pleased with the rehearsals so far. It's sounding more like a real radio show that it has in the past, at least production wise. Features return to the show. And I'm really enjoying the challenge of cramming it all into a neat 60-minute package. There will also be a great show webpage to support the show, featuring the facility to listen to the previous 4 weeks of shows on-demand. I'm really excited about it all, and hope to confirm the details sometime next week.
Everything has been going well at work, but it has all been going an hour earlier. Because I work for an American company, and to American time, and the fact they went into "summer time" 3 weeks earlier than the rest of the world, I've had to wake up at 3am instead of 4am. It's amazing the difference it makes. Getting the car into work in the morning usually, shops are loading up with stock, news-stands are open and milk trucks are out. It feels like early morning. But at the moment going to work, at 3am, news-stands are shut, kebab shops are full of pissheads, girls with their arses hanging out of their skirts are trying to flag down taxis with their ridiculously tiny handbags waving in the air. It feels like late at night!
It's also meant going to bed closer to 9pm, which is even more difficult. Roll on BST!
The last two weekends have been busy, and spent in the West Midlands. Two weekends ago Elle and I went to a reunion-of-sorts in what was my home for three years, Stafford. Elle and I met up with a group of old friends and spent the afternoon and evening going round our old drinking holes, and some of the new venues that have sprung up. Besides those though, not a lot has changed. But it's always nice to go out of London and be able to buy a pint for considerably less than £3!
Also that weekend I watched the Scottish Cup 6th Round match between Celtic and St Mirren. We had beat them 7-0 the previous week. But surprise surprise, St Mirren managed to dump us out of the cup. And pretty comprehensively. Still, we made up for it the following weekend by beating Rangers 2-0 in the League Cup final! I watched the game in a fairly scary Celtic Supporters Club in Wolverhampton.
Which was last weekend, and started with a night out in a pub in Hammersmith with Elle and some of her workmates. On Saturday we drove up to Walsall ready for a night out in celebration of Elle's 26th birthday which was on Monday. We went out in Birmingham on Saturday night after a few drinks at Elle's mums. The plan was to end up at the club Gatecrasher on Broad Street, but we had a few drinks elsewhere first.
Finally, we were queuing up to get into the club, and the queue was moving fairly fast. Our group got to the front of the queue, the door attendant took one look at me, shook her head and said "Nah, he's not going to get in". For a second or so I thought she was joking, but it was soon apparent that she really wasn't. We were asking her why but didn't really give us a straight answer, although something suggested it was what I was wearing (a dressy shirt, smart jeans and black shoes - all well within their dress code for the night). Meanwhile, chavs wearing pretty much tracksuits, and girls with their tits virtually hanging out were all streaming inside the club. For being part of a party of about 7 respectable people, and a night out for Elle's birthday, I was pretty upset.
The door person told us to go to someone else further down, in the hi-vis jacket, and ask *her* why we weren't getting in. So we did. To be fair, I remember looking a bit like a lost sad puppy at this point, but I just couldn't understand in the slightest what the problem was. As it seemed, either did this other women who, on being asked why I wasn't being allowed in, umm'd and ahh'd for a good while as she looked me up and down, trying to find a reason. She couldn't, but she followed that by "Well it must be the shirt. It's just the wrong type of shirt". The wrong t.... the... WHAT THE F*CK?! The wrong type of shirt?! I don't remember seeing *that* in the dress code! By this point, I felt rage bubbling up. This wasn't the first time this had happened to me in Birmingham. And the other time it happened it was for similarly baffling reasons, and *again* on Elle's birthday night out. At that point I decided that I was never going to part with any cash on anything to do with Gatecrasher again, and decided after the night had ended I was going to boycott Birmingham and never have a night out there again.
We ended up going somewhere else where there was no problem. It seems everyone had a good night anyway, but it really did spoil my night. I don't really know why I took it so personally, but I just hate being responsible for spoiling what had been planned for weeks, maybe months.
When it comes down to it, if that is going to be their criteria for the door then I don't want to be in a place like that anyway. And I hope they let in record numbers of drug dealers, people with knifes and those who intend to spike girls drinks in, just because they were wearing the right kind of shirt. The quicker they get shut down, the better. And then with hindsight they may think maybe they should have rethought their entry policy.
I don't quite know how many of my blog posts have been named after a lyric of the song I'm listening to at the time, but I know it's many. And it's happened again here, thanks to Robin Blamires' special jazzy show as part of Smoke Radio's marathon broadcast last week. Robin, if you're reading this, I did intend to wake up to listen to the show. My alarm even woke me up at 4.55am, but I just couldn't pull myself out of bed. So thank you for the link!
Been a few weeks since the last blog. Something that I have been doing every week is going to the radio station in East London to do some more rehearsals for my forthcoming radio show, the resurrection of Grooveline. I've not been giving specific details about the show or station until it is concrete, but we are almost there. At the moment it looks like the show will be launching, available online, on Tuesday 31st March at 7pm till 8pm, and will be so weekly. I've been really pleased with the rehearsals so far. It's sounding more like a real radio show that it has in the past, at least production wise. Features return to the show. And I'm really enjoying the challenge of cramming it all into a neat 60-minute package. There will also be a great show webpage to support the show, featuring the facility to listen to the previous 4 weeks of shows on-demand. I'm really excited about it all, and hope to confirm the details sometime next week.
Everything has been going well at work, but it has all been going an hour earlier. Because I work for an American company, and to American time, and the fact they went into "summer time" 3 weeks earlier than the rest of the world, I've had to wake up at 3am instead of 4am. It's amazing the difference it makes. Getting the car into work in the morning usually, shops are loading up with stock, news-stands are open and milk trucks are out. It feels like early morning. But at the moment going to work, at 3am, news-stands are shut, kebab shops are full of pissheads, girls with their arses hanging out of their skirts are trying to flag down taxis with their ridiculously tiny handbags waving in the air. It feels like late at night!
It's also meant going to bed closer to 9pm, which is even more difficult. Roll on BST!
The last two weekends have been busy, and spent in the West Midlands. Two weekends ago Elle and I went to a reunion-of-sorts in what was my home for three years, Stafford. Elle and I met up with a group of old friends and spent the afternoon and evening going round our old drinking holes, and some of the new venues that have sprung up. Besides those though, not a lot has changed. But it's always nice to go out of London and be able to buy a pint for considerably less than £3!
Also that weekend I watched the Scottish Cup 6th Round match between Celtic and St Mirren. We had beat them 7-0 the previous week. But surprise surprise, St Mirren managed to dump us out of the cup. And pretty comprehensively. Still, we made up for it the following weekend by beating Rangers 2-0 in the League Cup final! I watched the game in a fairly scary Celtic Supporters Club in Wolverhampton.
Which was last weekend, and started with a night out in a pub in Hammersmith with Elle and some of her workmates. On Saturday we drove up to Walsall ready for a night out in celebration of Elle's 26th birthday which was on Monday. We went out in Birmingham on Saturday night after a few drinks at Elle's mums. The plan was to end up at the club Gatecrasher on Broad Street, but we had a few drinks elsewhere first.
Finally, we were queuing up to get into the club, and the queue was moving fairly fast. Our group got to the front of the queue, the door attendant took one look at me, shook her head and said "Nah, he's not going to get in". For a second or so I thought she was joking, but it was soon apparent that she really wasn't. We were asking her why but didn't really give us a straight answer, although something suggested it was what I was wearing (a dressy shirt, smart jeans and black shoes - all well within their dress code for the night). Meanwhile, chavs wearing pretty much tracksuits, and girls with their tits virtually hanging out were all streaming inside the club. For being part of a party of about 7 respectable people, and a night out for Elle's birthday, I was pretty upset.
The door person told us to go to someone else further down, in the hi-vis jacket, and ask *her* why we weren't getting in. So we did. To be fair, I remember looking a bit like a lost sad puppy at this point, but I just couldn't understand in the slightest what the problem was. As it seemed, either did this other women who, on being asked why I wasn't being allowed in, umm'd and ahh'd for a good while as she looked me up and down, trying to find a reason. She couldn't, but she followed that by "Well it must be the shirt. It's just the wrong type of shirt". The wrong t.... the... WHAT THE F*CK?! The wrong type of shirt?! I don't remember seeing *that* in the dress code! By this point, I felt rage bubbling up. This wasn't the first time this had happened to me in Birmingham. And the other time it happened it was for similarly baffling reasons, and *again* on Elle's birthday night out. At that point I decided that I was never going to part with any cash on anything to do with Gatecrasher again, and decided after the night had ended I was going to boycott Birmingham and never have a night out there again.
We ended up going somewhere else where there was no problem. It seems everyone had a good night anyway, but it really did spoil my night. I don't really know why I took it so personally, but I just hate being responsible for spoiling what had been planned for weeks, maybe months.
When it comes down to it, if that is going to be their criteria for the door then I don't want to be in a place like that anyway. And I hope they let in record numbers of drug dealers, people with knifes and those who intend to spike girls drinks in, just because they were wearing the right kind of shirt. The quicker they get shut down, the better. And then with hindsight they may think maybe they should have rethought their entry policy.
Thursday, 5 March 2009
Monday, 2 March 2009
Sunday, 1 March 2009
Boing
Colindale, London, England // 11.30 am // Mostly cloudy 8ºc / 46ºf
So apparently today is the first day of spring. Doesn't really feel or look like it at the moment. I'm sitting here in the living room bloody cold. Granted, I'm wearing shorts and a t-shirt, and the heating hasn't been on for a few days (until a few minutes ago) but it'll still be a while before we're all wearing shorts and short sleeved shirts in the sunshine. In fact, I'm sure I saw some snow forecast for next week!
It was a really long, hard week for some reason. Come Friday, I was absolutely done in. I didn't get a great deal of sleep through the week though, for various reasons. I can't remember which day it was now, but the day of the plane crash in Amsterdam meant absolute chaos at work, and I had my busiest day there since I started at the company. Still it was good experience, although a few alcoholic beverages were certainly required to get over the day!
On Thursday night I went to visit a radio station in East London, with the aim of bringing my show Grooveline back to the masses, plus helping out at a worthwhile radio project. It went really well, and I met the station manager, got a tour of the station, and handed in a show proposal. It seems quite likely that'll I'll get a show, and I've got to go back in again on Tuesday to record a demo. I'm planning to make it a one-hour show. That's completely different to what I've done in the past, where the show has ranged from 2 to 12 hours. But I'm actually really excited by the prospect of producing a tight, concise good sounding quality soul music show. My friend Robin Blamires on Smoke Radio has proved how you can make a 1 hour show sound great and fit a hell of a lot into it without making it sound rushed or stressful, and it's fair to say that the structure and idea of the new Grooveline will be very much based on Robin's show.
It'll also see me bring back two of my old features, plus a new one. Additionally, the radio station provides each show with fantastic, dynamic and easy to update show pages, which I will do my very best to keep up-to-date to complement the show perfectly. And one of the best features of the show page, which I'm very excited about, is the possiblity of listening again, on-demand, to the previous four weeks of shows.
So the first demo will be recorded on Tuesday, and we'll see what they think of that. I'm just looking forward to getting back into the studio, for the first time since last August.
Yesterday I went to the Irish pub in Kilburn to watch the Celtic game, where we absolutely thrashed St Mirren 7-0, which is absolutely brilliant for our goal difference compared to Rangers. I actually believe that game will win us the season. Meaning, I think we will win the league on goal difference only, and by a few goals and no more. Mark my words.
Didn't do as well with my betting on the other SPL games though, getting only 1 out of 4 results correct. I now have £39 in the betting kitty from my original fiver.
During the game I got a really emotional call from my mum, who is caring for John during his treatment for cancer. For the first time since it all started, I cried yesterday. I just felt so helpless being so far away, but I know they appreciate they can call me and let everything out anytime, and I know they can't really do that with anyone else. It's the very least I can do, and I'm going home for a weekend at the end of the month, but it doesn't seem enough. I'm working on making that better.
Last night we headed over to West Ealing to a housewarming party of one of Elle's friends. It was quite a quiet affair, but a good night and a chance to meet some really nice people. Getting back from there at 2.30am was pleasantly easy too, with two nightbuses.
I've just had a visit from our local councillor for the Burnt Oak ward. I think she was pleasantly surprised that she could have a conversation with someone who was actually remotely interested in politics, and someone whose vote she could rely on. Plus that fact that I'm fairly young. I've never worked out if I'm allowed to vote in the Scottish Parliamentary elections. The fact that I've not lived in Scotland for over 7 and a half years might count against me, but it's something I've never checked out for sure.
So apparently today is the first day of spring. Doesn't really feel or look like it at the moment. I'm sitting here in the living room bloody cold. Granted, I'm wearing shorts and a t-shirt, and the heating hasn't been on for a few days (until a few minutes ago) but it'll still be a while before we're all wearing shorts and short sleeved shirts in the sunshine. In fact, I'm sure I saw some snow forecast for next week!
It was a really long, hard week for some reason. Come Friday, I was absolutely done in. I didn't get a great deal of sleep through the week though, for various reasons. I can't remember which day it was now, but the day of the plane crash in Amsterdam meant absolute chaos at work, and I had my busiest day there since I started at the company. Still it was good experience, although a few alcoholic beverages were certainly required to get over the day!
On Thursday night I went to visit a radio station in East London, with the aim of bringing my show Grooveline back to the masses, plus helping out at a worthwhile radio project. It went really well, and I met the station manager, got a tour of the station, and handed in a show proposal. It seems quite likely that'll I'll get a show, and I've got to go back in again on Tuesday to record a demo. I'm planning to make it a one-hour show. That's completely different to what I've done in the past, where the show has ranged from 2 to 12 hours. But I'm actually really excited by the prospect of producing a tight, concise good sounding quality soul music show. My friend Robin Blamires on Smoke Radio has proved how you can make a 1 hour show sound great and fit a hell of a lot into it without making it sound rushed or stressful, and it's fair to say that the structure and idea of the new Grooveline will be very much based on Robin's show.
It'll also see me bring back two of my old features, plus a new one. Additionally, the radio station provides each show with fantastic, dynamic and easy to update show pages, which I will do my very best to keep up-to-date to complement the show perfectly. And one of the best features of the show page, which I'm very excited about, is the possiblity of listening again, on-demand, to the previous four weeks of shows.
So the first demo will be recorded on Tuesday, and we'll see what they think of that. I'm just looking forward to getting back into the studio, for the first time since last August.
Yesterday I went to the Irish pub in Kilburn to watch the Celtic game, where we absolutely thrashed St Mirren 7-0, which is absolutely brilliant for our goal difference compared to Rangers. I actually believe that game will win us the season. Meaning, I think we will win the league on goal difference only, and by a few goals and no more. Mark my words.
Didn't do as well with my betting on the other SPL games though, getting only 1 out of 4 results correct. I now have £39 in the betting kitty from my original fiver.
During the game I got a really emotional call from my mum, who is caring for John during his treatment for cancer. For the first time since it all started, I cried yesterday. I just felt so helpless being so far away, but I know they appreciate they can call me and let everything out anytime, and I know they can't really do that with anyone else. It's the very least I can do, and I'm going home for a weekend at the end of the month, but it doesn't seem enough. I'm working on making that better.
Last night we headed over to West Ealing to a housewarming party of one of Elle's friends. It was quite a quiet affair, but a good night and a chance to meet some really nice people. Getting back from there at 2.30am was pleasantly easy too, with two nightbuses.
I've just had a visit from our local councillor for the Burnt Oak ward. I think she was pleasantly surprised that she could have a conversation with someone who was actually remotely interested in politics, and someone whose vote she could rely on. Plus that fact that I'm fairly young. I've never worked out if I'm allowed to vote in the Scottish Parliamentary elections. The fact that I've not lived in Scotland for over 7 and a half years might count against me, but it's something I've never checked out for sure.
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