Freaky green gloop

So now Alex (the bassist) is off to New York, and I am insanely jealous, I have lots of time to write scarey music. In fact last night I freaked myself out so much that I couldn't sleep the whole night. The music probably wouldn't scare your average folk, although the bass line of grated rhythm might, I can't describe how much it scared me. I got right into it, and suddenly I couldn't see because I was in a dark forest and I was sweating hard and no matter how much I stayed still or ran, I couldn't get out. I normally love trees, but this was beyond claustrophobic. The song is aptly named "I'm coming to get you" and I think I unfortunately got too far inside the head of my protagonist, although the words are hardly lyrical genius.....some day when I get the thumb out I may do that MySpace thing and actually post a few tunes...

I was delighted to discover I can still blush, after years of hating blushing I was dismayed when it stopped. I felt like I had lost the flush of my youth, and while no doubt that is true, I am blushing furiously lately in work now again, mainly with a guy I like to call Hotdog (due to his mistaken belief that the colour mustard suits him). The lovely Hotdog is someone I will NEVER even have to contemplate more than work relations with, and in a deliciously uncomplicated gesture, smiles winningly at me now everytime I blush and stare at the floor. I feel all atwitter.

November seems to mean visitors, with my ex-housemate Mary visiting for the first weekend, my cousin Donog called to say he wants to come over, my best friend from when I was a babby says she is coming over, as does my dad, but these last two are notoriously badly organised, so I'll believe it when I see it. Afterall, my dad was meant to visit last February. Speaking of my dad, I am proud and puffed up to announce that he is FINALLY back painting(not back-painting, I mean painting again, although come to think of it he may be back-painting also), anyway, he sold four, that's FOUR paintings over the last two days, and practically sold his flat too, but that is not cos it was nicely painted. Although I always loved where we lived when I was smaller cos everything had weird paintings and drawings everywhere and we were positively encouraged to draw and paint on the walls. There were huge clouds of blue painted on our walls and we filled in the clouds with under water scenes with sharks in top hats and mermaids, and midair flying scenes and all that. The fridge was a lansdscape painting, the carpet was a Gaff-taped collection of carpet samples cunningly (and cheaply) constructed. The shelves had weird scored patterns of different techniques my dad used to create sponged and woodgrained effects, and the windows were a collection of painted stained glass thingies. Even the chairs were turqouise and green sponged, and we stencilled the bathroom. Shame all the food was green, even though it never tasted that colour, it was always green gloop. Nice green gloop, but scarily radio-active looking.

Right. I am off to read, deliberately not writing music cos it is already nearly 2am and I've to be up at 7 again and I don't wanna freak myself out again, right?