…are that, when you make rash promises about blogging every day for a month, you don’t actually have to follow through with beautifully constructed vignettes in a tightly defined Site Style, that will have everyone sighing and cooing and wishing they could nominate you for Post of the Week (for which I’m doing this week’s shortlist, so please get over there and nominate).
Oh no. Instead, you can just switch the damned thing on and burble until your time’s up. Which, in my case, will be when K gets off the phone to his mum. (He’s a dutiful son, and rings her every night. She’s a “chatty” sort, and phone calls rarely last less than 20 minutes, bare minimum).
What can I tell you about today? Well, we’ve landed ourselves another magazine cover story, as the oh-so-aspirational Derbyshire Life has seen fit to lead their August issue with a lengthy article about our village, complete with a photo of the cottage. I’d link, but the “This Month” section of their website is currently displaying a scan of the March issue. Ah, bless.
On the freelance front, I’ve conducted three interviews this week: one with a local hip-hop label, another with a “turntablist” who records for the same label, and another with the guitarist out of Hard-Fi, whose new album arrived by post at the start of the week. How do you conduct a courteous and respectful interview with someone from a band whom you used to love (“Hard To Beat” was my Fave Single of 2005), but who are just about to release an underwhelming follow-up? Well, I tried to accentuate the positive. Other than that, it looks like I’ve secured an interview with Andy Bell from Erasure (having talked to Vince Clarke earlier in the year), but wasn’t quick enough off the mark to bag the Super Furry Animals. You win some, you lose some.
K and his mum are still nattering, and I’m stalling. Ooh, tell you what right: BT have been giving us the runaround summat shocking. We’ve been trying to order BT Vision at both addresses, but they’ve not only accidentally cancelled both orders – they have also posted us fifty, yes that’s right, FIFTY, bills to the cottage, on the same day, in separate envelopes, only to have them intercepted by K’s mum and returned straight to the postman. What kind of madness is that?
I just heard a click downstairs. Either she’s on one of her longer monologues, or they’re all done and dusted. So I’ll be off, then. But before I go, a big shout-out to z of Razor-blade of Life, who has promised to match my one-post-per-day with one-comment-per-day. Do feel free to play along, won’t you?
troubled diva 