Departure approaches

So I’ve got a day and a half before I take to the road and during this time I’m apparently going to do a bunch more rehearsing with the loop pedal so that I get it right on the first time rather than the third time; I’m going to pack all the bits, make more merchandise, buy all strings etc, finish some non-candythief work web deadlines, and send my supervisor the first installment of work towards my masters final piece. (Which is going to be a song-cycle about the life of a lady who twice escaped the guillotine by means of seducing politicians during the French Revolution; she then personified the euphoria of wild partying after the Terror ended; saved lots of people from getting their heads cut off by using her influence; got spurned by polite society after values changed when Napoleon became consul, lived out her days in the countryside on her 5th marriage, having managed to survive in remarkably good fettle.)

That’s actually made me feel a bit less anxious about remembering my thermos or whether I could have contacted a few more blogs etc. Let’s get it in perspective. I probably won’t get my head cut off. What’s the worst that could possibly happen? All the gigs are bad and poorly attended and people hate it; none of the promoters want to speak to me again after and I lose money hand over fist. The weather’s awful, the car has some kind of expensive breakdown, I get behind with my master’s submission. I still probably won’t get my head cut off. This could be a whole new strand of motivation management and stress-control. Perhaps I can fit out a studio on the proceeds of my historical self help novella which offers readers the opportunity to feel better about by suggesting they compare the challenges they are facing with, say, the Plague. Bad hair day? no boils the size of eggs on your face though. Could be worse. Boss doing your head in? At least he/she can’t cut your head off with a wave of the hand. Can’t face getting up and getting to work after a late night? would be harder if it was a forced march into battle on a bit of salty gruel ration. Etc.

And somehow writing a blog is an essential part of all this faffing around?

This is why I like the moment of actual departure-by that time, it’s too late to worry about what you have and haven’t done; and you get to just be where you are; and listen to cds in the car, and disengage a bit.

It was absolutely not accidental that I booked dates for June in the South West, which is a lovely corner of the country. Oh Hardship! Tootling around some gorgeous countryside while it is in full bloom! Getting to watch a load of music! How very onerous. Chatting to people – how WILL I cope. Etc etc.

Here are the dates, and here is the Facebook event which has details:


I played the Jubilee with the bombshellettes, evidence here. Great fun, jubilee apart from that passed me by a bit.

Now I’m going to inspect my new self inflating camping mat to see if it’s living up to expectations.

If I can find a linux compatible web thing, I shall blog while on the road.



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