Interesting

The question is, have I got this blithering cold from Jon, who I spent the weekend closeted with but who was recovering by then, or from Ed, who I only shared a practice room and a car with on Monday night but who was just coming down with something serious enough that we had to cut the practice short because he was having trouble standing up?

Friday's gig was curious, being in an extravagantly decorated but expensive bar, where the bouncers were sufficiently arsy to nearly refuse Jon entry for having bike-fixing tools in his bag, what with them obviously being lethal weapons and him obviously being in the mood for taking someone out in his best inherited-from-previous-generations woolly jumper. The bands were allowed to have their own stash of beer in this poky freezing little back room officially called backstage, though, and generally the whole thing felt like it was occurring in some orthogonal plane to the venue. Joe and other band members put some quality crowd-agitating work in for the first band, Los Raw Gospels, who were technically ropey in the way no-one gave a rat's arse about because they sounded like the Cramps. Punch Judy were introduced by a lass billing herself as the Queen of the Damned, I think, which meant she sang something gothically operatic over something floaty and classical for a few minutes while we were on stage and ready to go, which was kind of relaxing and settling actually. The Moon rocked and all the teeny fans bounced along and so did everyone else, and carried right on when they stopped and the DJs took over, including muppethex and blue_mai. I was really pleased to see both of them; not least because there are few things more pleasing than people enjoying dancing. Despite knackeredness and colds the long bus journey home went past in silly and excitable conversation, including Jon saying 'Bof!' a lot.

The rest of the weekend was a mire of work, trying to get as much as possible done for the monthly report that was due in on Monday while Jon did things with a paper he gave at the IHR yesterday and job applications for far distant places. We did make it briefly to the Pembury on Sunday but that was in a kind of orthogonal way too, we met an old friend of Jon's who, well, wouldn't have mixed well with the rest of the games-afternoon people, which left me feeling slightly hung between the two. Perhaps I'm just looking back at all this skewed on account of my head being full of wool right now, though.

Got another gig tomorrow, at the Dirty South in Lewisham. Don't know anything much about it except that it's one of Steve's and can't quite summon up caring about it right now either. I think I'm going to go home, probably via a shop that'll sell me a Pot Noodle. Mm, comfort food.

Bored bored bored

I have moved onto a paracetamol-bound timetable and my head is full of fluff. I can't concentrate on anything particularly useful; in fact I've been trying to play nethack and keep dying horribly because I'm not really paying attention. I'm swaddled in blankets on the sofa despairing of TV. Wooo. Anyone got any ideas for something diverting, brain-light but not utterly futile that I might be able to set myself to?

Edit: And not anything involving shiny graphics, really, as there's some weird shit going with this laptop and its graphics drivers and it tends to throw paddies and shut Firefox unexpectedly. Just about any myspace site gives it grief, for example. I can get round this with the desktop but the desktop cannot be used while swaddled in blankets on the sofa. Ho hum.