My Myriad Musical Mayhems

I have sore fingers again.

I seem to be indulging in binge-guitar playing of late ~ where I'll go a week without playing for anything longer than 30 seconds to a minute or so per day, if that... just to check tuning more than anything else... to a marathon session of 8-10 hours at a time.

Such was the case today. My foil & Ron the BassBeast came over for a jam/writing session &, apart from a few technical difficulties on my part (my amp needs new transistors... we think), four hours just flew by!! Two semi-written pieces were dusted off, given a tweak & knocked into fuller shape with the addition of basslines.

Then off to Redfern to work with ZenSiren on our as-yet-unnamed-and-unformed guitar/vocal project. A torch-song version of Light My Fire is twisting, writhing & forming, whilst lyrics have been written for one of my acoustic catchypop songs. Again, five hours were gone before we knew it.

And so, tomorrow... today... the job search intensifies & enquiries are to be made about amplifier repairs, then dinner at a Goan restaurant somewhere in Pyrmont. That's about as busy as I want it to get.

Later. Apropos of nothing... other than a gratuitous, but much appreciated, plug in SarinG's journal... here's a link to the gallery where all the photos I've posted reside for anyone's casual perusal.

Hmmm... that last paragraph reads like I've swallowed a dictionary...

The Art Of The Australian Comparison

Snaffled from today's Stay In Touch column in the SMH...

As boned as an Australian sitcom.
About as politically correct as a Lakemba mufti.
As good as a politician's promise.
As exclusive as the Dick Cheney fan club.
As much hope as the Titanic with Mark Latham in the wheelhouse.
Like looking for WMDs in Iraq.
So unlucky he'd be killed by a tsunami in the Simpson Desert.
As sincere as a second term prime minister.
As popular as a cross city tunnel; as a paparazzo at a Tom Cruise wedding.
Wouldn't shout in a shark attack.
Shoot through like a George Bush supporter.
Playing up like a secondhand whippersnipper.
Slick as snot on a door knob.
Welcome as a fart in a two-man sub.
As useless as a back pocket on a singlet.
The wheel is spinning but the mouse is dead.
My boss goes on and on ... he'd take an hour and a half to watch 60 Minutes.
All over the place like a politician in an interview.
Wouldn't turn up at his own funeral.
Going off like your nanna in Spotlight.

A Slice Of Life

Here endeth my weekend.

On a rainy night in this town, one of the best places to be is in an Indian restaurant with a bunch of entertainingly varied people ~ strangers & friends alike. Especially this particular restaurant... the first Goan/Indian place I've been to since about... never you mind... With SarinG, UnknownB, Dorukai, Roslyn & Somnistra in attendance, the conversation was as varied as their LiveJournal usernames suggest. A little food, a little wine... a little friendly personal abuse... At least, I hope it was friendly.

Hit the employment websites this morning & fired off about a dozen or so applications (apparently I'm not that fussy any more...), most of which will probably be ignored by the recruiters, or will suffer the same fate as written orders for Vogons ~ the due process of which is far too long to quote in full here ~ buy The Hitch-Hikers Guide To The Galaxy & you can thank me when you've stopped laughing.

One job in particular caught my eye & I'm hoping to speak to the relevant recruiter some time tomorrow. As it was, I ended up in North Sydney this afternoon for a hastily arranged pre-interview interview with a strangely-named woman (Beau??) & 2 fresh-faced 20something trainees. The overall impression I came away with was that they were fishing for applicants to pad out their quota... it didn't sound to me like the actual, real, concrete job prospect they'd baited me with actually, really, concretely existed at all.

I hate that.

I especially hate that when it comes on the tail of an e-mail from another recruiter (who f*#ked up my interview time with a company for a job I would have rather liked to get), informing me that the position has been filled... without me ever getting another chance to meet the employer.

I hate that too.

Other than that, the day was spent doing crosswords with breakfast & coffees at the local, then trying to find somewhere &/or someone who won't charge me hundreds of dollars to fix my guitar amp. The search continues...