Year: 2010

bookmark_borderThe short hot summer

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What a lovely weekend that was, all sunshine and BBQs and ice cream and other good things which are good. Nay, wonderful.

I’d love to say there was anything else going on, and I really should be taking my chances to spend some time on this ‘ere blog given that, at any moment, some kind soul will buy our house and so will commence 2-3 weeks of madness as we pack up and head off.

On that front we have one potential buyer, but he’s waiting on confirmation from his workplace of a new contract. They like the house and I think they are first time buyers so that bodes well. I think. Maybe.

Basically I’m just trying to avoid speculating until something actually happens.

Largely to stop myself looking for flats to rent, spotting a GORGEOUS one in Kelvinbridge, backed on to the river, huge big living room, wooden floors, balcony… only to see that it’s been snapped up. Not a surprise, but it’s annoying.

Instead I’ve been keeping myself busy, and find myself sitting late into the night surfing the internet looking at all sorts of delicious pictures. I’ve even been taking notes!

“Ohhh that lamp would go well with that chair, and I could have a couple of bookcases behind it and have a wee reading area…”

“Hmmmm not sure about the cushions, but I like the sofa.”

“I MUST HAVE THAT ART!”

It’s official, interior design is the (my?) new porn.

bookmark_borderA step into the unknown

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Later this week I’ll be sitting down to talk to some people. Some very important people as it happens.

Yes, I’ll be talking to some customers.

I’m slightly ashamed to admit this is the first time I’ll have done this, formally at least and I’m not quite sure what to expect. The main thrust of the conversation is to go over some feedback we received, and I’ll be highlighting what we’ve done to address some of the issues they raised as well as pointing out some of the other good stuff we’ve done.

However, the real reason I’m setting this up isn’t really to go through their feedback, although that’s been very useful, it’s more about opening a line of communication.

Like many, we struggle to get access to our audience so this is a real step forward, I’m positively excited.

The real challenge will be repeating this, and ultimately I’m hoping it leads to some form of customer forum, but first things first.

bookmark_borderBand of Skulls

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A couple of weeks ago I went to see a band called “Band of Skulls”. Similarly as to when I went to see a band called “Eagles of Death Metal”, the very name of the band prompts raised eyebrows and questions of what type of “noise” I’m inflicting upon myself.

Interestingly, both bands are similarly positioned in the rock catalogue. Neither are “heavy” nor particularly satanic, instead they sit in the musical catalogue alongside the likes of The White Stripes and Kings of Leon.

The Band of Skulls gig was in a venue I’d never been to before, the Classic Grand in Glasgow, which is up four flights of stairs in what I presume was an old cinema. It’s a tight venue and even standing at the back of the hall, the band were no more than about 60 metres away (that’s about 200 feet in old money).

I bought their album after spotting a brief recommendation in, I think, Esquire. I initially forgot about it but soon started coming back to it time and again. It’s an oddly paced album, and I often found myself checking to see what was playing, only to find it was one of theirs. This is partly down to sharing lead vocals between the male guitarist and female bass player, and also because the songs themselves happily float from rock, to pop-laden ballad, to a drug-hazed blues drawl. Not since Gotye have I been so happily flummoxed by the change of pace the album has.

And the live experience isn’t half bad either. The sound mix was spot on, and the Grohl-esque drumming added an appropriate intensity that some of the album tracks lack.

One advantage of going to a ‘small’ gig for a relatively unknown band is that, in a few years time, I’ll be able to see them again and see how much they’ve learned. I’m not entirely sure Band of Skulls will offer me that opportunity though as they’ve already got one helluva live show, and delivered a damn good night.

I’m not one for making predictions about bands, but if this lot don’t end up on the main stage at Glastonbury some day then there is something wrong somewhere.

bookmark_borderLost Key

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It is a ramshackle place, half-closed blinds filter streams of dusty sunlight across the threadbare carpets. Somewhere a breeze creeps through a gap and dances through the hall, ruffling the thin trail of smoke as the joss stick quietly smoulders.

The furniture is old, loved and carefree, a random matching of patterns and leather. Echoes of parties and laughter remain but are quickly fading. The painting over the fireplace is offset by the tiniest fraction, remains of the last fire lie in the grating.

It is time to move on.

From upstairs the sound of drawers sliding open, doors banging shut as the occupants hunt for the key. As soon as they have it, they will pack up and go their separate ways.

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bookmark_borderToo early

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I AM WITHOUT LIE-IN, AND I AM ANNOYED!

It’s really not fair you know, the least we could get is a warming or quiet word to let us know it’s gonna happen but noooooooooooooo.

One day I’m perfectly able to sleep until 10am on a Saturday morning, the next and I’m lucky if it’s 8am.

I’m sure this is an ‘age’ thing.

With apologies to my olde wiser readers, whilst these things may be common knowledge to you (and if it is, could you PLEASE update the life user manual please, ta) it’s a recent discovery for me, and not really a pleasant one.

Along with the realisation that the hairs growing in my ears are longer than those on my head, this new desire to be awake before 8am at the weekend seems unnatural, unfair and entirely pointless.

Can’t I revoke this, or at least appeal on the grounds of IT’SNOTFAIR?

Worst still is that this newly found desire is worsened by the intake of alcohol. A couple of weeks ago, after one too many (or three too many, I lost count after the first Jägerbomb) I awoke, and please bear in mind this is after getting to bed at around 1.30am and that I was very drunk, not only before 8am but before 7am!

In that instance I can only conclude that my brain had been enjoy my drunken state so much it decided, after all about 4.5 hours sleep, that I should wake up again.

Seriously. What the fuck?

In saying that, it does mean that I’m starting to develop a very nice mid-afternoon napping habit…