Polari

Christ on a bike, today’s been tough! Every tiny little technological break down that could have happened did happen. Our broadband collapsed. We fell off line every fifteen minutes all the way through the day. I called Talk Talk, and they started doing random tests, which meant we kept losing the land line as well as the internet.

In the meantime, my music-writing software started crashing. I was trying to create midi files for the studio tomorrow, but they were all coming out in the wrong tempo. I called the helpline in the US. They deal with complaints so much better over there, but, on three occasions, just as I’d explained my problem and they’d started to look into it, the people at Talk Talk would run another test on the line, and I’d be cut off.

We finally deduced that the problem was, of course, created by the vile Windows 8. I had to download all sorts of updates, which could only be done on my old computer (which now has a broken “n” and lost all capacity to create a full stop) and transfer to the new computer via a memory stick. My new computer falls offline more regularly than Talk Talk. It’s just insane. He whole day’s been insane. I had fifteen minutes for lunch. By 6pm I was shaking.

To make matters even more complicated, I received scores of emails and phone messages through the day from various members of my choir and people involved in the White City projects who seemed intent on throwing ever larger spanners into the works... “I can’t make the rehearsal.” “I’m going to be arriving late.” “Can I leave early?” “I haven’t got my act together, do you mind waiting another day for the stuff you need?” On and on it went until I just wanted to scream!!

The only bright glimmer was a mini-rehearsal for Four Colours accompanied by tea and a mountain of biscuits this evening. There were ten of us, half the choir essentially, all crammed into our living room. God I love hanging out with the Rebel Chorus. They're so much fun. I felt desperately sorry for the neighbours when we started blasting gospel music into the ether, however.  Actually, I didn’t feel sorry for them at all. I felt incredibly proud of the noise we were making. We live next door to a soprano. I’ve never met her; just heard her singing beautiful arias through the wall. She must have been very confused.

Nathan and Michelle are still here, talking Polari on the sofa, which is somewhat amusing. No rest for the wicked though. I still have a load of prep to do for tomorrow.