So, what has been going on? An excellent question indeed, and one that deserves an answer. Let’s see...

Easter was frenzy of singing, a lot of it well paid. Unlike last year, I didn’t lose my voice, which made the biggest sing enjoyable rather than a struggle (last year one comment was “It was like you were walking on the edge of a cliff, but you never fell off”). This time there were professional brass players for the Easter Day decibel extravaganza. Professional trumpet players use trumpets in C, whereas amateurs use trumpets in B flat. Way back in university I wrote trumpet parts in C, but after I left I gradually got used to writing the parts in B flat. Now I suppose I’ll have to go both ways. Professionals are great to work with but they also have greater expectations with regard to one having one’s act together, which after four major performances in the previous week was a touch and go thing for me. Anyway, it sounded great and people walked out with a trickle of blood running from their ears but a smile on their face.

Some things happen frequently. Some things happen very infrequently. A couple of weeks ago I experienced an event that most people wouldn’t experience in their lifetime. After all it’s not every day you find out your housemate’s a lesbian. As I sat there agog, Hilda asked if it was OK. It was fine of course, but at that moment a few billion neurons in my brain were being reprogrammed. In hindsight it all makes sense, but having known her since she was twelve or so it was all a bit of a shock. She actually thought I already knew, because of some comment I had made a couple of weeks before, but alas, anyone in my company will know it if I find some particular girl attractive.

It’s great living with a lesbian (and not in the “Maybe she’ll bring her girlfriend home and they’ll both actually be bi” way) as my life of late has been unhappily free of Sapphic influence, what with every cool lesbian I know now living overseas. The downside to this is that Hilda has just come out (very gently, her parents didn’t mind) and doesn’t know any lesbians. All her female friends are straight. Normally in these circumstances I’d be hosting dinner parties replete with friendly lesbians, but I can’t do that.

A week ago at two in the morning Hilda heard horrible retching sounds (worse that my usual ones ☺ ). When she got up to investigate she found me in a distressed state in the kitchen in my boxers (lucky she’s a lesbian, huh?). By that time I had cleaned up the slimy remains of the slug whose head I had squashed with my bare foot. It brought to mind the time I had done the same thing 24 years ago. Gross gross gross.

I have the dates now for Marion’s overseas jaunt, where she extracts her revenge for me leaving her for five weeks less than two months after we got together. It’s four weeks long, she leaves on her birthday at midday and arrives back the day after my birthday (we’re on opposite ends of the Cancerian spectrum). In her defense she had nothing to do with the dates. Alas she’ll be away the whole happy time when I’m only eleven years older than her (unlike most of the year when I’m twelve years older than her). Not that I concern myself with this kind of thing. Much. Anyway, it will be an opportunity to update my stamp collection. If I had one.

One possible nerdy pursuit could be working on my business idea of being a home networking dial-a-geek. This would make a nice change from my present job, which manages to drive me crazy even at two days a week. I’ve been reading too much of Hiss’s life of leisure, I suspect. Or maybe it’s just that I’ve been here for ten years. Who does the same job for ten years these days? Ummm... me?

Cheers all!

Here’s an interesting entry I’ve been reading by Twinsie, with a man on every side.

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