Vignette XXVI

It doesn't matter how much you fight. 

(It'll never be enough)

It doesn't matter how many times you pick yourself up. 

(You'll always fall again)

It doesn't matter how right you are. 

(There's always chance to be wrong)

And then one day they're all there.  And you come through.  And then it's all that matters.

Vignette XXV

I feel absolutely worn out.

Today has been an excellent day, however.

About bloody time.  What with all this furore as well.

There's a lot to be said for a good meal, and then the best singing a Cathedral can offer.

Shame the next fortnight's gong to be so unremitting.  You can't have it both ways though.

You heard the man though, I had the voice today. 

And I will in the days to come.  I remember what I am now.

Emergency Measures.

Here's a thing.  The University of East Anglia are looking to close the School of Music.  That's right.  No, I understand.  You need a bit of time to look this one up yourself.

I only graduated from UEA this year.  In another 3 years time, the last generation of Graduates will have already hung their gowns up and taken their tentative steps into their futures, without another year to fill their shoes.  I think that as many Alumni as possible should make the final graduation.  No placards, no protesting, just stoic solidarity.  

The School of Music is a somewhat unique place even in the relative oddity that surrounds the University of East Anglia.  This is not to say there is anything wrong with UEA; far from it.  The unique, brutalist architecture of the campus is recognisable all over the world, mostly thanks to the iconic Ziggurats of Norfolk and Suffolk Terraces.  The Houses of Britten, Paston, Colman, Browne and Kett are no less recognisable to those who have lived there, and the great flats of Constable Terrace and of course, Nelson Court are a welcome sight to many.  The pecularity of the student body produces some outstanding relationships.  There's a real cross section of society enrolled at this University, from the droves of Essex men and women, to the Internationals of every imaginable race, to the ends of our own Islands; this is not a place where droves of Private boarders are told to go.  This is a place where you choose to go, and I for one think it's a great place.  

Well, I won't think that so much soon.  Maybe.  There has been a Review carried out by a panel of senior members of the University staff.  Heads of Faculty, you know.  This review has been carried out, and its findings are in.  The Panel have found it in their hearts to advise that Music should no longer be offered as an academic discipline at the University.  I'll give you a minute to read that again.  Music should be dropped from the University, the department closed, the staff to find new jobs.  What will happen to the buildings?  Good question, most likely to be repurposed, but who knows?  The Chronology of this is very important.  The review Panel met in September, they have taken around a month to come to their conclusions.  The news was broken to staff 10 minutes before the students in the School itself.  The oficial release was posted on the UEA website on the morning of the 26th, at around the same time that Facebook and Twitter suddenly went downhill - no, they certainly didn;t crash, but the amount of extremely angry and simply distraught Muso's was both staggering and unsurprising.

The cut and thrust of the public face of this closure plan in funding.  Now, funding has always been and will be an issue, but the current plans of cutting funding to the Arts across the board and the massive hike in tuition fees means pennies are even tighter, perhaps even tighter than tight across the board.  According to the official release the University could no tafford to support the School of Music without "imperiling other, better positioned disciplines".  I'm sorry?  Do they not know the meaning of imperiling?

It appears from the report as well that the Music Department has been, in short, neglected.  The death of the Head of Department in 2006 created an interregnum in School leadership that has only been filled recently by the head of another department.  Not another faculty member, but from outside, but still in the HUM umbrella.  Of course this raises the question of why there hasn't been a new Head of Music proper.  It's a good point, and a good question.  There are indeed some hard hitting questions, but also quite a lot of ignorance.  We don't have "cutting edge" studios by any means, that's true, but the work produced by staff and students with the facilities we have is renowned for its innovation and high concept.  The work of the Sonic Arts series of concerts that are hosted in the Concert Room has also been been either dismissed entirely, or the reivew panel were not aware of it.  Sonic Arts host a range of Avant Garde Electronic performances, and some premieres.  Sorry it's a bit vague, but Sonic Arts was never really my thing.  This said, there are a lot of ardent supporters who deeply enjoy these events, and I would gladly hand the reins of this part over to them.

Throughout the report there is a general shrugging of shoulders.  I've said it before and I'll publish it now that I think part of the problem is that MUS has been operating in quite a different way to the rest of the University.  We don't have a Head, we don't have a strict curriculum, and there's something about our admissions policy that just isn't the same.  For saying that 9 years ago in 2002, the School was operating at the "margin of viability", we have done extremely well to maintain a solid and lasting reputation, and an enjoyable course taught by passionate academics.  We can't offer everything, because we don't have the expertise, which is far better than saying we can do everything and then not being able to deliver the greatest experience.  Swings and roundabouts.  As for our admissions?  Well, the grades thing is a little over my head.  As a rule though, we audition prospective students.  You can't measure talent or potential.  Sadly.  That's why we have the audition process.  Academic expectations are somewhat lower in MUS than the rest of the University however.


However, I fear that this is a done deal.  I've said this many times already, but it's all at the last second, perhaps even deliberately so, to avoid a successful rebuttal.  They are just going through the final, public motions of closing the coffin and nailing it shut.  There's going to be one hell of a fight about this, and sadly I am TOO FAR AWAY to really get involved, and that's a thorn in my side. 

For now though, as Ro-Jaws, the robot with the bigger bite says, SPREAD THE WORD JOHN.  There is an online petition here, the Facebook Group is here, and a very interesting article about wages, funding and fees from the Telegraph here.  Also, the outcome of the Review Panel can be found here as well..  There's also a Tumblr blog as well as the Twitter updates to take into account. If you want to, get involved.  I urge you to consider the facts on offer.  If you don't want to, and then we actually respect that, but just don't antagonise us please.  The School of Music at UEA cannot afford to become a martyr to funding cuts.  The slashing of Arts budgets is not on.  There's no similar cuts to Science or Sports.  That's it.


This should be the only subject of conversation for every member of MUS Staff, every UG and PG Student, and every Alumnus until the very last second.  It's going to bore everyone but we must make sure this is an issue that gets out.  There's been a token notice on the BBC news website, but that's only a token.  I hope you follow the link to the report on the University choosing to charge the full whack of £9000 from 2012, with quotes from Edward Acton throughout.  We need national coverage.  People need to be made aware of this.  If the Music School gets shut here, then where next?  The University of Exeter closed their music department down to build a new Hall of Residence, so for financial gain once more, but that was in 2007, well before the recent times of economic crisis.  What other departments are in danger of having secret reports filed on them, before being told at the last second? 



Perhaps though, like any good tyranny, the University will choose to close the Music Department down anyway.  Regardless of how successful our campaign, how great our support through the petition, both online and on paper, this may well be over.  To think this and give up is folly though.  We will fight for our department, we will support the academic staff who have done such a fine job before and will continue to do so.  this is far from over.

THE CAPTAIN'S COOKERY CORNER: VOLUME ONE

Hello friends, 

As I recently said, I am the de facto chef de maison of 20 Old Bridge Street.  For a few years now I have also held Thursday night as a time sacred to curries, ie those that I make myself.  As an exceptionally picky eater, I usually deal with food myself, in case anyone decides to do something that I'm not going to have, like a serving of peas, for example.  While my track record with green vegetables is notably poor, it slowly improves, but only in my own time.  

Anyway.  Today I made a particularly delicious stir fry, even by my standards.  I haven't had any oyster sauce since I got here, nor any hot chili sauce (God damnit Nandos!  Y U NO IN TRURO), but a bottle of light soy has done so far.  I usually cook by instinct, having built a working relationship with my knives and my boards and my utensils that I won't deal with anything else.  I always bring my knives, my pasta pan and my wok wherever I go (not quite attached at the hip but you get the picture).  But here I pass on my recipe to you.  Make sure you read it all the way through before you start.   

HAJIME!!!

Firstly, before anything else, make sure your prep is done or the hotter it gets the more you'll sweat just before the end.  At the moment, I make stir fry dishes with pork, but this ought to work with any meat of your choice.  Beef will be the fastest meal of all though, so only do this if you're definitely on top of it.  This one is a definite pork dish though.  There are no measurements, as I have never used any...except for the rice!  AHA.  Just use enough!  If you use too much or too little, then learn for next time.  I managed to serve 4 tonight, so just think about how many people you want to feed and change your amounts accordingly.

So.  To start with, finely slice your pork into strips.  This is a chow mein style, and it'll all cook quickly.  Speed is of the essence!  Next, cut off enough pieces of Broccoli and halve them.  If you are planning on using the stalk, cut that up just as, if not more finely as the pork (Don't worry about getting it identical.  Broccoli will take the longest time to fry after the pork though).  Thinly slice two cloves of Garlic, and put them to one side of the board.  Skin a medium sized white onion, and roughly chop it into slices.  With that all done, sort out your pans.  

Put your noodle pan on to boil.  I use a pasta pan, because I use a pasta pan for everything.  It's just a big pan with a stout handle, with a glass lid that has large and small draining holes in the sides, very useful.  I put in 5 nests of egg noodles earlier, but use however much you need, and then put enough water in to cover the nests and put it on a high heat.  If you put the lid on, it'll boil much quicker, but you might be busy by the time it starts to boil over, so think carefully.  Just before you do this though, put your wok on to heat.

Put your wok on to heat.  I said it again because you actually need to heat it.  None of this pussy-footing around.  Your wok should be approximately as hot as hell by the time you start cooking.  Put in a glug of oil, be it sunflower, vegetable or groundnut (the last of these being the best), BUT NOT OLIVE OIL.  UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES SHOULD YOU USE OLIVE OIL.  Olive Oil will burn and not taste especially great and ruin your wok.  Put it on the highest heat available to you on your hob/raging inferno.  

Once the oil in the wok starts to smoke gently, it's almost ready.  Let it heat up a little bit longer, and then get the pork in.  Slide it in off the board slowly (or as slowly as you can), because you don't want to spray the boiling hot oil everywhere.  You will notice that the meat will colour almost instantly due to the fabulous heat and the large surface area of the strips.  After maybe a minute, or when all the strips have begun to colour, add in a healthy serving of LIGHT SOY SAUCE.  Light goes in at the start of cooking.  When you have done this, add the Broccoli.  Adding more ingredients causes the overall temperature of the inside of the wok to drop ever so slightly.  Toss the wok to make sure everything gets covered in the soy.  After a while, add in tomato puree.  Add a load as well, and spread it around, coating everything in the pan.  Add a drop more soy to keep things moving in the pan.  Don't let it burn!  Let it cook out for a little bit.  We're moving towards service now.

The noodles out to be nearly ready by now.  I used a short pair of tongs to separate them, but feel free to use whatever you like.  Stir them round and make sure they're cooked.  Turn the heat off and pop the lid on.  Stir the contents of the wok.  Now, toss the onion slices in to the wok, and break them up with whatever you're using.  Make sure they also get coated.  Now, move quickly!  Drain the noodles, but don't get rid of all the water, you'll need a bit.  I hope you haven't forgotten about all that Garlic you had, because now's the time to use it.  Make a space in the centre of the wok and throw the garlic in.  This needs only seconds, as you only want to toast the garlic, and woebetide you if you burn it.  Once that's done, pour in the noodles.  The water you left in needs to go in as well, because it'll stop it all from sticking and make a little bit of sauce out.  Put in a bit more soy at this point, if you have any DARK SOY SAUCE now is the time to use it, but be sparing.  You don't want to overpower the pot.

Let the noodles cook in the wok, and toss regularly to make sure they get covered as well, and be careful not to let it burn.  

There is only one course of action left to you now. 

   SERVICE!!!

I usually prepare stir fry in this fashion.  Sometimes I have rice instead of noodles, and ideally I have bottles of fish sauce and oyster sauce to tide me over as well as chili sauces of sveral varieties to add to the flavours, colours and textures.  If I use a red onion, I add it slightly later to keep the fiercer flavour and the strong colour intact.  Red onions are my thing though.  All in all, this meal should take about half an hour to prepare and serve.  Always make sure you don't poison anyone, but the meat should always be done by the end just due to the sheer temperature.  

Anyway.  I hope that some of you might be brave enough to try this, and my following recipes at home, for yourself, your friends and family.  My house style is gutsy and slightly chaotic, much like everything else I do, especially my Countertenoring.  On Thursday, I will be opening the famous Curry House, and serving two distinct dishes, the first time I have done so in my whole life.  But I'm not worried.  I might make the first one on Wednesday, and then put all my energy into the second dish on the day.  No problem.  So!  Until next time!  

Western Civilisation

Alright.  After the last little brainwasher, things have calmed down.  Just a bit.  Way out here it's much quieter than even sleepy Norfolk.  Except for the near-constant Bach...

Allow me to accurately describe my situation.  I, a living Countertenor, have moved to Truro, deep in the heart of Cornwall, or KERNOW in the old style.  I now reside in a medium sized, three bed Georgian town house with three other people.  Just like most student housing, the front parlour has been converted to another bedroom (I do not live here).  I live with a Baritone, a Bass, and a Tenor.  WHY AREN'T WE A QUARTET UNDER ONE ROOF?!  More on that story later.   My room's ok, though, for saying I must now ascend and descend stairs.  It is vastly improved by being filled with my possessions, which therefore makes it second only to the miniscule kitchen that continues to shorten my life daily.  As chef de maison and also cleaner...er, de maison, I have been kept busy during my otherwise empty and unemployed days (well, afternoons) by keeping the kitchen and its contents fit for human use.  I accordingly do most of the cooking, and have gladly reasserted Thursday Night Is Curry Night, last Thursday being a pretty beastly Biryani that managed to feed 5 people.  God Bless the Captain's Curry House, and all who sail thereon!

In the mean time, I have relaxed my initial search for employment.  This is a double edged sword, for while money is especially thin on the ground if I rely on the Scholarship, but why bother depressing myself further?  I've got a couple of forms left to fill in (coffee shops &c), but after that I'm leaving it for a good three or so weeks until I really start again.  Hopefully this will help me out, as seasonal staff positions will be hiring, and maybe that Italian place will ring me back anyway.  

But what about my place?  You know, my place at the stall?  Well, I'm actually quite satisfied.  I am happy.  I am in the right place.  Look at what I am saying, and take heart dear readers, there's hope for me just yet.  No, seriously now, I'm pretty solid in my place.  I almost believe in myself again, and am doing quite well.  The Lay-Vicars in the altos are also astounded at my ridiculous breath control; not bad for an asthmatic with a partially collapsed lung (yes, I still think I have the lung problem because it twinges in the same place every now and again).  All those years at Derby and breathing exercises and sustaining legato American art song phrases have brought me a small benefit to say the least, and one which must be consistently built upon.  I'm working on my decibel reputation (almost derailing the end of the first phrase of the Schubert G major Gloria and the Lasst Uns Erfreuen incident) slowly but surely, keeping the bottom notes in focus and the tops ones from ruining me.  And I still haven't had a lesson down here, which is of course, terrible.  I got handed out the solo in Byrd's Second Service, which reminds me that for some reason I've been put on second alto.  Why?  What?  Where?  I have no idea, but Mr. Gray moves in mysterious ways, I don't doubt that he's done this for a reason...could it be though?  Could I finally be in line for the record of John?  The one bloody reason I wanted to be a countertenor in the first place?

Anyway, I sit on the north side, beneath the Organ case.  The Cathedral has 3 organs, the mighty Father Willis in the choir, which is absolutely bloody enourmous, a box organ that also resides in the main choir aisle, and the reanimated corpse of a 1750 Byfield Organ in St. Mary's aisle.  This aisle is all that remains of the original church on this site before the Cathedral  was built in the late 1880's, and the remains of the Organ that stood in the west gallery have since been installed in the northwest part of the aisle.  Now, it's obviously off-colour to refer to it as a dead body...but seeing as the specification has been changed from a small but complete IIIP/20 to a IIP/13, compounded with the tantalising specification left up on the NPOR and the small matter of my 12,021 word dissertation on Organs exactly like this one make me very sad that it has basically been turned into an Octopod.  At least the majority of the case has survived, and is an excellent example of the late Harris-Byfield-Byfield II style of cases.  Imagine if this instrument has been restored to it's original manual specification, with the addition of a mid-scale Bourdon to the pedals, much like the contemporary 1754 Snetzler Organ in Hillington, Norfolk.  Not only could it make a credible contribution to music in the Cathedral, but also would have acted as a base for historic performace practice.

Oh well.  Of course, things aren't always that simple, but it would have been nice, especially seeing as I'm used to nipping down to Colegate to work on the 1803 instrument they have there.

Oh yeah!  The Quartet thing.  Most of all, it comes down to the division of that I am a slave to that Barbershop sound, and the others are not.  That's it.  No recriminations, no name calling, nothing.  Just that one difference.  Unlike the others, I am no great fan of the King's Singers.  Well, definitely not like they are anyway.  Barbershop is a different ball game, and as my experiences have taught me, you just can't force people who don't want to lock chords together.  While I am only a rank amateur, I get offended enough when Barbershop is reduced to the description of "cheesy close harmony", seeing as it is absolutely neither of those things.  I might be able to sneak a bit of the old flavour into some arrangements.  I'm looking at 'Goodnight Sweetheart' as a definite candidate.  

So.  Getting better.  

Knock knock, it's the Abyss

You know, I can't remember if I've said anything about this before, I suppose it doesn't really matter as it's a relevant issue every fucking day.  Although I suppose you might get bored if every time I publish it's always about this.  But really, that's what my life is like.  If you've never been depressed, and (arguably) more importantly don't care about something that doesn't affect you, then get lost.  I'm serious.  You should leave, and that soon.

You're not going to like this.

I heard actually, that depression affects a ratio of one to every one person.  Everybody, at some time, will suffer in their life, but to what degree and in what respect will differ.  Sometimes, it goes too far, and some people choose to justify the mental anguish with physical pain, such as self-harm, killing other people, or even killing themselves.  But funnily enough, I'm not one of them.  Surprising, I know. perhaps we could finally get some eschatological verification if I was.

No, I don't talk about my depression very often, because, guess what you guys!  It depresses me.  I guess the trouble all started when...uh...well, actually it's been so long I can't even remember now.  Of course I always hoot on about my second year at univerity as the worst time.  Funnily enough, this was not just down to my precarious living arrangement but also my choral employment at the time.  Yes that's right.  The Parish Church or St. Peter Mancroft.  Arguably it would have been worse if I had never been.  I mean, my official position is never to wish that things had been different, or I would never have wound up wherever I did for the next thing &c &c, but maybe this one could have done with t a little more thought.  My time at Mancroft is the reason why I never claim to be a singer by trade, why I am prouder of my Organ playing than anything else, and why I have absolutely zero confidence.  It'd be like... the killer that got killed on the job.  Obvioulsy I love making ridiculous statements though.  However, enough with the jokes.  The only thing that Mancroft did for my singing was tell me that I was wrong.  If there was a mistake, it was always my fault.  My tone was always too strong and my consonants too big and it was always my fault.  Obviously I wish to paint myself as the sympathetic hero, but actually, I don't.  I'm not quite that stupid.  Why was I loud, and forthright &c &c?  Because I wanted to do my best.  I was taught to lead, so that's what I tried to do.  Take the initiative and use my greater experience of repertoire.  Not the best idea though.  Perhaps it's all in the execution.  Anyway, I was never good enough to do any solos until the last service, basically, and that was my fault as well.  How?  Well, I was told that I "should be subserviant" to the director, and that's an actual quote fact fans.  No merit based rewards there then.  I can take that though, being a stubborn little shite at even the best of times. 

Singing was all I was ever really good at (other than philosophy), and to have this unending stream of criticism, especially at that time, was somewhat harmful to one's own personal development.  Why the fuck should I bother carrying on, if everything I do is wrong?  Bit of a foregone conclusion there, eh?

Well, anyway, I decided to go back to University for a third year, and back to Mancroft for a second round.  I never quit, because I'm a) an idiot and b) the type to see something out to the bitter end, which is also why I went back to Uni.  I never for a second really thought I could rescue the clusterfuck of that second year, but gave it a shot anyway.  More on that and the result later.  The next and again most pressing item is of course the lack of employment.  Now, see here.  Turns out that this gig at Truro is exactly what it says on the tin.  We're Scholars to the Cathedral, and not employees.  As such, it's not technically a job, even though you have to put a hell of a lot of hard work into it.  At the moment we're doing a lot of things that I happen to know, but the only advantage this gives me is that I can watch more.  No technical advantage, nor musical advantage (remember my technique is terrible and I spent the last two years getting everything wrong), but just watching.  It's a speciality.

But anyway, just like the summer, I've been trying to find work.  And just like the summer, I've been having absolutely no luck at all.  Yesterday alone I made five separate job applications, for kitchen porter work and bar positions around the city, with no reply as yet.  Obviously I have no bar experience in a commercial sense, so it doesn't look good really, does it?  If you don't have experience you can't get the job, but if you can't get the job how will you get experience?  Ho hum.  Anyway, I suppose all I can do now is wait.  I can't even get JSA again like I did because my mother is my official representative or whatever the term is, so she has to be legally present for everything.  Even if I wanted to sign on again (which, financially is an excellent idea at the moment), I couldn't.  I must, therefore, survive on the stipend handed out by the Cathedral, a not impossible task, but far from desirable.  Also, I would have something else to do in the day than sit around drinking tea and waiting for the world to end.

And now I turn to what to do next year?  Obviously I can't be a choral scholar forever.  I am looking at continuing my education. However.  I have two major problems.  The first is my degree.  At a second class, second division, it's not exactly cutting any mustard anywhere.  Firsts or 2:1s are the accepted order of the day.  The other option is of course a performance Diploma, a little research into those however reveals the high cost of such an operation - somewhat out of reach for the poor and unemployed.  I haven't even done anything about singing lessons down here in case they cost actual money, an unnatural resource I seem to be fairly free of.  There's about 40p in my wallet, I suppose that'll have to do.

I'm almost out of my depth.  Almost.  I can cope with a daily service (just about, my warbling is holding out - in fact, I was told by my Lay-Vicar counterpart that I was "good" and "louder than both the past two scholars put together" so there's some mileage there I suppose), I can deal with the amount of music being put in front of me, and the fact that usually there's only an hour's rehearsal before it's done and then put away.  Singing is what I do, and doing it I am.  However.  It is the rest of it that I am struggling with, struggling being the operative term, and struggling being the right word indeed.  Without a Student Loan to top my overdraft up like the last two years, I feel pretty much financially helpless.  I want a job, but obviously I'm terrified.  I guess I'd be ok once I started, but it's just getting that start.  Going out and getting a job will always be nigh-on impossible I suppose, but I just want a fucking chance.  Obviously I am asking for too much. 

My favourite metaphor for how I feel is being punched in the face, every day.  I'd say try it but I know you don't want to; well boo hoo because I don't get any choice.  You can get punched in the face for a week, say, and still come up smiling.  Maybe it's funny, like a game: get up again and again and maybe you can earn another smack in the chops!  Brilyunt.  Remember, points mean prizes, right?  Well, extend the metaphor for ever, basically.  I can only keep getting knocked back by prospective employers, or my bank balance, or perhaps the unhealthy assumption that I come from a well-off background and have a rosy-looking childhood.  No, no, no and no.  Being so far from my frinds and family is beginning to hurt.  It feels like I am out here alone.  Of course, I am surrounded by people and services and whatnot and what have you, but I essentially chose to throw myself deep into unknown territory without a wingman, basically.

Of course, I am harking on to an absurdity, because this is exactly how I felt this time last year.  Actually NO IT WASN'T.  I was scared then, but hopeful and optimistic and above all, determined.  I am sorely lacking this fine character attributes today though.  Upset, uncertainty of the future, financial worries, absolutely everything.

POSTSCRIPTUM

Well that was hard.  That also took all week to write, in one everlasting draft.  But I had to.  I have been very bad at keeping this updated, I mean, I still have my little loveletter to SUDA 51 to write and I have noticed a predeliction for existentialist cinema that might merit discussion as well.  Services are moderately tough, but  I'm keeping my wits about me, and can't really say farer than that.  I have never been happier not to have perfect pitch though.  I sing every night of the week, but still have nothing to do in the day.  I haven't sung proper Barbershop since the end of term in June.  I'm just a little lost.  I have no idea where I'm going next, I have very little idea what I'll be doing tomorrow in fact.  It's all quite bad.  If I were a real person, I'd have this all figured out by now.  Or, more likely, know enough of the right people to get me there without having to think myself.  Oh well.  Such is my lot.

Knock knock.

TRU

Well.  two weeks in and I'm still alive.

Lapsed Songman and Organ Scholar Emeritus, now Choral Scholar of Truro Cathedral.  Looks good, doesn't it?  Feels pretty good too.  It's nice to be working hard again.  I say working hard, it's still just under 16 hours a week, and I haven't managed to become employed.  Harsh. It's not that I'm not applying, it's just that I'm not being employed!  This is the real world though, so it is folly to expect anything else...

I haven't written for a long time.  Once again, I've been getting used to this new and distinct reality, where rehearsal is brief and drink is expensive.  My bank account reads like it's almost a quarter past three in the afternoon, but minus.  I'm not stopping this, no way, but I have been somewhat distracted by the business of living, which as we all know is very annoying.

My abode is known colloquially as "The Squalory".  Looking at the Kitchen in its current state it's not hard to guess why.  Once again my masterful pot washing and cleaning skills are being exercised daily, also in as much as thanks to my dear mother, the spirit of a clean kitchen has been instilled into me from a young age.  My room however, is the usual incarnation of chaos.  I have a floor and hoover once a week, so it's better than last year!  See that it is messy but not dirty, cant stand it if it's dirty.  I'm sat here dying inside thinking about the kitchen.  GOD DAMN IT THE KITCHEN NEEDS MY HELP.

However, the singing is good.  I haven't had any lessons (no monies), but it feels good.  I need to find my edge again, but there's no use ruining things.  Below me lives a graduate of the Royal Northern, behond me lives an old boy from St. Paul's, and next door lives an ex-private boarder, with whom I seem to have formed some sort of subversive double act.  It appears I am become quite the stooge in my cynicism.

So.  Same Peb, different county.  Or country, if you are so inclined.  It's early days, but it's all looking up!  Watch this space.