Up to the smoke for supper Had an interesting conversation this morning with a micro publisher called Paul in Brighton, and we will meet up in a couple of weeks to discuss my various projects. He was very much of the opinion that a physical book is just one outlet, and that you should empower yourself. This is my philosophy too, but I dream of a time when I can just focus on the writing and not the hustling. Bitty bits of work today, and answering lots of emails from people saying happy birthday. Also got cards from Paddy and Shaila, old school friends, which was nice. Spoke to Bob who has had pneumonia and is on antibiotics after his swine flu. In the evening up to London to meet up with the folks from my old agency who I have been working with again lately. These include my pal Al and Helen who had been close colleagues. We met at Franco's just below Piccadilly. While it was good to catch up on the gossip with some old friends, I hated the restaurant. Unfriendly staff, pricey av...
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Secret champagne Phoned by Pat in the morning to work on a pitch with him and the French bloke starting tomorrow. It seems the Gods of Copy are still taking care of me as this is great timing. Then up to London, phoned on the train to say that my payment timesheets had finally been processed thanks to Al. I suppose I shouldn't complain. I've only been trying to sort it out for five weeks. Into Hammersmith to discover Mike Ferg hiding behind a telephone box on Fulham Palace Road. Turns out he was going to meet Mike (a.k.a the Gnome) this afternoon. I popped into my accountants and found the reason for no contact from them: my accountant is on holiday. Went into my old agency and had a chat with Al and met Christina in reception. There I bumped into Mike Ferg again with Nick, my old boss who have me a hug and told me to come for a drink with them. He is now based in LA and having a fantastic time, having fallen in love with the can-do US mentality. We had a restrained single bee...
No accounting for it All about the money today. In the morning spent several hours getting to grips with my accounts and entering things gingerly into excel spreadsheets. In the afternoon spent some hours on emails and phone calls managed I think to secure payment of the money owed me. In desperation I resorted to calling my pal Al, who went across and scowled at the relevant parties, which seems to have worked. Bless her. Other than this a busy lunchtime zooming on various missions. Also made time to go to the gym for Hulk legs session, didn't quite have the same sensation of wearing a fatsuit like I did even last Friday. Still some way to go yet. Lorraine around this evening as Beth was using her house to throw a dinner party with Mark. She was mad keen to go to the Batty so we sat outside in the back garden for a slow pint. Feeling quite pleased with myself for dealing with not lovely things. Watched the Mercury Prize this evening, which is a chin stroking music award for the be...
Making the connection Woke with a stinking headache, for the night before I had been out with Bob. Being a fullish moon, it was perhaps inevitable that the Mad Dog should stalk into the Twitten. Discussed many pressing issues such as Bob's spiritual quest, economic glooms, and the ways of Carl Watson. As ever, some time was given to the notion that we were not going to drink too much. After gulping a groggy cup of tea, he set off. My new computer refused to connect to the Internet, so after two long conversations, and being forced to reassemble my computer downstairs, it was fixed. It was a little after noon. Then a more welcome interruption, as Randolph stopped by, dropping off my tickets for the play. Then my work with my old agency was confirmed for next week. Annoyingly they are going to tax my fee at source, which adds to my accountancy complexities. But still, I am happy to have the work, perfectly timed, and I will be working with Al who is an old (and cheeky) friend. Best...
Nothing but the wild rain Randolph called. His play Only Free Men is going well in Lewes. He said the stress was raised as the understudy for the main female role has had to step in with a week to go. He told me he is now beginning to believe he may not have a heart attack, which is good news. The understudy was rather alarmed at the prospect, but has done well. I will see the play on Saturday. The action concerns two intelligence officers questioning a British Doctor suspected of terrorist involvement. Three bouts of thunder in Brighton, accompanied by persistent torrential rain. In the Twitten I drew up the ramparts. The weather forced Calliope indoors to grumpily sleep with her head on the corner of my keyboard, while I began last year's accounts. Luckily for me these are fairly simple: you simply get a payment at the end of the job. The outgoings, of course, are more complicated. Thank God for spreadsheets. Funny chat with Al today. I will be doing some ailment based work wit...
Bookended by socks Noticed when I woke up that Calliope had overnight removed all the balled sock pairs from my sock draw and carried them to my bed, which was handy. If I can train her to bring me just one pair this could be useful. Out into a smattering of snowflakes in the twitten, and up to London for another day with Betsy on the surgical wound business. Lots more bumping into old friends, including Al who was very huggy and pleased to see me, which was nice. Matty boy was there too, having just started a big strategy role in Betsy's agency. After work I went to the bar and chatted with Benny the barman who gave me free crisps and, as an Iranian exile, explained how Hammas have shit for brains. I was joined by Matty and Betsy who I introduced to one another, and we had a quick drink. Matty enjoying his new start I think, and he will do exceptionally well in what seems like a pleasant little agency. Got the tube with Betsy, and discovered we had both flirted with Marxism in our...
Small news A text this morning just as I was about to head into to work from Alice, who has had a baby this morning, saying "so much for maternity leave" as it had arrived three weeks early. It is a testimony to Al's mischevious personality that at least one person in the agency thought it was an April fool. Otherwise a busy day. Lots to do at the agency. In the evening trying to reverse what looks like the after effects of pigs having barged about the place. This interspersed with telephone chats with my Mum, First Matie and Lorraine. I also sent off my giftbook idea text to Matty's pal Silvia who is an editor in a good publishing house. Then early to bed.
A single marigold In the night, one of a noisy group of drunken youths in the Twitten appeared, judging by the sudden shouting, to have taken issue with one of my plants. This resulted in him kicking my front door. I was almost asleep but I got up, found my hammer, and went to investigate: nothing, and no harm done. But maddening though. I phoned the police though and felt a bit sheepish halfway through, no there wasn't any damage, no I didn't see them because I was in bed, etc. etc. Woke up fairly late, and Anton and Oskar called around, Oskar happily punching the keys of my CD player. Anton showed me the map-making site he'd found which will shortly be unleashed on the True and Wonderfull site. Spoke to Sprinkles, and then Mum. Then a massive bout of soundfile work. Put in hours, and made very little progress. In the evening my pal from work Alice and her husband Mike and their baby Mia came down to Brighton. We went for a fish meal in an Italian restaurant where I had a...