first time i saw my new, improved, married sister post-wedding day was like this:



then it was travelling home and one of those sun, trees, wind-in-my-hair kind of days with the best of the three new curve albums fitting neatly onto one looping disc. i feel like the adjectives used in washing powder adverts. it's that good.

my sister got married today. have i told you already? pictures and stories are here:

i'm writing this two weeks after 'now' and i still haven't really been able to find a suitable summary of the day in my mind. it was such a huge day in my life - it was my sister. it was kate getting married. most of it flew over my head i'm sure, yet i can still remember magical moments. when she walked up to queen's chappel in her dress, laughing and giggling like a schoolgirl messing around... dad in his suit, reading his speach, being the most responsible and respected man there - i tell you, i was so proud of him i can't believe it. i remember putting old people in taxis... talking to 'fast' eddie, one of kate's oxford gang and harrier jumpjet pilot, chippy gaving me the biggest drunken hug ever, beans helped me sort my life out in five minutes and chris in the morning with the invisible stain crisis. which was hilarious. all these showed i was there but until i see myself in a photo i'm sure it was all just one great big happy dream.

oxford bound, destination florey and tomorrow's rehearsal. this, if you were curious, is what you can expect for accomodation if you were a first year underground at the queen's college, oxford. it's slowly sliding into the river, but it's okay - guided tours of architecture students come on field trips in the summer to use it as research. what a doomed, useful, invasion-of-privacy it is - brilliant.



later at the rehearsal i learnt how to stand on a cracked tile and give the thumbs up signal to the organ grinder as the immediate family took an elaborate and very useful guided tour of the chapel. tomorrow is a big day for us all.



(kate and cerrig ('may i say how good it is to be here at queen's, and how at home i feel') her 'best man', kate and mum in the cloisters, don guarding the family, dummy run register signing and practicing the procession, post thumbs-up.)

then to the pub, via the nun's garden, the bridge of sighs and an appropriate sign. all before 5pm:

how strange. there was a note attached to my windscreen yesterday, a sad note that i kept. passengers seem to love it. and the first thing i did today was notice life emerging from last (19th) october's carangefest and take a picture. the sky was a rare, almost cloudless blue. both subjects seem to reflect alison's recent posts, and i haven't spoken to her for way too long. i occasionally wish i was there, and on the way to the i.f.a's i wondered if the weather made london look similar to houston, persuading myself all the time that it must do.

?

the entrails of game on posters followed by a whole afternoon coding rinsin' 'em out (name inspired by imaginatively nick-named 'rob the student'), my new flash game based on a cunningly subtle blend of projectile motion and ripping off an old nintendo hand-held. i was really into it too, and by the 6.30 i'd got the bouncing, crashes and splashes in place, learning collision detection as i went. learning for selfish and fun reasons makes me feel guilty but good.

then i had to go; the holly friday orbitalfest was about to kick off. and did it ever. what a night! we left the beer queue to funny break - a memory jogger if ever there was one - watching the sky above the thames turn pink to lavender. the first few bars of satan appropriately triggered rain and by the time the sky was dark blue we were soaked, a cardboard beer tray lighter and bouncing like cartoon characters, grinning like kids. i remember belinda carlisle's heaven is a place on earth thrown roughly over the jovi's you give love a bad name and sounding surprisingly good. only good things. we all need more nights like tonight. i would just like a hammock to fall out of.



i reckon two gigs in six days is pretty good going.

wednesday 19th june
happy barbecue birthday holly.

tuesday 18th june
our showreel returned from japan in a cool package:



monday 17th june
seriously blue skies with the kind of sunshine that is so hot your arms feel like they're actually cooking. this evening as the cooler air wafted in through the open lounge windows we watched tv. when the third 'feminine hygiene' advert came we went, 'no! boo!' and it worked; the advert stopped. the screen flicked black then three monkeys appeared, singing something ridiculous. 'yeah! woohoo!' came the reply 'more monkeys! that's what we need!' shouting at the tv? that'll be summer, the world cup and yesterday making today.

sunday 16th june
portuguese day started with a saxo trip to the mini garage and then tescos. food and car shopping. sardines, the traditional portuguese dish, were barbecuing across kennington park, the thick grey smoke spilling over the stage, crowd and surrounding roads. we tried to uncover any form of music coming from those big, muffled speakers. but couldn't.

later, the queue to enter brixton academy was - simply put - a stroll around the block. between the pot smoking boys behind and the giggling young girls in front i wondered why nobody recognised him - was it just me? the smokers were talking moments before about it being 'the ultimate' night and how they can't believe they're here, it all being too much for them to digest. yet they couldn't even spot the lead singer hanging out of the window two floors above them. i looked up as he squeezed his head through the gap in the window frame left by his arm and shoulder and said,

'so - adam - what are you going to play us tonight?'
he looks down at me, a smiling combination of moustache and dreadlocks, everyone else looks up, with quite gasps and murmers, 'ah, well, at this point it's all up in the air; we're still kind of deciding, really. 'he wiggles his hand to show uncertainty.
'new or old?'
'i don't know how to put it without giving the game away... let's just say there's songs from each album.'
girl in front of me: 'sullivan street!' (a given, i thought to myself)
bloke behind me: '...long december?' (ditto)
the queue starts moving forward "well, have a good night - we'll see you in a bit!'
'sure will.' he says, leaning back inside the window. and that's how i met counting crows' adam durwitz.

i wasn't really fussed about the support act, only turning up early to guarantee a touted ticket. i presumed it wouldn't be someone i'd heard of or even liked. adam walked on stage, exclaiming how excited he was as he introduced someone called kelly jones. from the audience reaction he was obviously good, and well known. i clapped along as if i knew who he was as he walked onstage in a floppy blue cap with red star covering most of his face. two bars in and i knew the song, and realised he was actually the stereophonics guy. steve would have loved it, i thought. he was there on his own, with his acoustic guitar, captivating.

the crows started with mrs potter, then their new one (american girls), and filled the rest of the set with the following:omaha, have you seen me lately, oasis' live forever (which morphed into a long december), rain kings (with half of round here's lyrics forced into the instrumental break), monkey, hard candy, miami, new frontier, and kelly jones sang the mr jones duet with adam who gave him the lyrics. he almost walked durwitz off stage he was so good.

they finished on sullivan street, and i walked home. it took ten minutes,

saturday 15th june
i woke up, fluffed the pillows and turned the tv on to watch england beat denmark 3-0. good enough. the massive lie-in did me good despite the hunger. roast chicken and chips, i thought when i got up somewhere around 1pm, roast chicken and chips... it became my mantra. the mission began and chimpy missed it all, the journey home seemingly too much hard work.

friday 14th june
'a short latté please, and can you tell me which number this song is?'
'sure... erm... (checks the cd player readout) eight. disc two.'
turned out to be 'it's yours' by john cutler featuring e-man. it reminds me of the cheyenne bar in la plagne and alex learning to dj.

thursday 13th june
all of yesterday's cranial conundrums are still bouncing around like ricocheting bullets. but sometimes you have to give yourself a break, follow an instinct and do something you truly feel like rather than do something you think you do. funky and i haven't had any quality time together for a while so today we're going to milton keynes. sod work, forget the money worries, ignore the whole mortgage process - at least just for an afternoon. i need time off from all these things and when you're snowboarding everything else in life has the volume turned down. perfect.

two and a half hours of jumps later we realised that falling over now only really occurs after a failed landing rather than a bad carve, which means only one thing; we're getting better with each slide. six months ago milton was too steep and now the thought of going to tamworth seems pointless and unchallenging. by the end of the session i'd managed a couple of backside 180s, a rail-to-indy (with non-polite air) and bottled the rainbow rail at least twice - it's taller than me, i realised as i approached it, filling my pants with dread.

the journey home was mellow. we had the music at 'singalong' volume as we recited rem, pixies, g-tone and rage against the machine lyrics, stumbling (as you do) over rem's 'it's the end of the world...' before it all went loony. at funky's i checked out his new craig davidesque headphones. we ate pizza out of card board boxes in front of big brother. funk said 'it doesn't like this road.' his car agreed, hissing and clunking as he drove me home. i thought about the frame of mind i was in when i got in the car outside work and how much better i felt after not only an afternoon off work, but boarding with the original team. i decided the only way to describe the feeling seemed to be 'it's like going to church'. there's definitely something cathartic about the whole road trip thing. however long away the next trip is, it's not soon enough.

wednesday 12th june
adam durwitz et al are playing on sunday evening only ten minutes' walk from where i live. the tickets are sold out, but i'm going anyway. any way i can.

tuesday 11th june
there's a lot on my mind at the moment - house buying, studio rent agreements, decisions about how and where i want to live and how and what i would like to work on in the future, in short the next stage in my 'plan'. big decisions, especially when all the separate factors in the equation influence each other. i have to think carefully but it's more than that; i have to be brutally honest with myself otherwise i simply won't get what i want...

monday 10th june



jay: "what the fuck is 'the internet'?"

sunday 9th june
i recognised it from gcse physics. he not only knew that it was the right one, but - and here's the clever bit - how to implement it.

after a relaxing lunch with only holly's good conversation came badminton with a little positional play tutoring. ten years ago i would naively refuse, positive i knew better. now? i'm just glad for the help.

my latest toad-of-toad-hallesque fad is trying to simulate gravity in flash. sounds easy, doesn't it? i've been thinking about which variables i need and how i can build it, on the web downloading examples and reading maths tutorials but i want to code it from scratch. i figure all i need is the equation for defining y and borders on oxford street didn't have the right book. so it had to be done. there is no avoiding the inevitable. i rang alex, knowing i should have done it a week ago (what we were probably thinking at the time in brackets):

'all right, matey, 's me'(dr and quinch opener. nice.)
'all right, dude. what's up?'(what's he on about? what's happened?)
'i need some help. i'm trying to do gravity in flash. right. it's point eight metres per second squared, i know that so-'(why am i trying to tell him?)
'-nine point eight-oh six-six-five average-'(easy - oh, and don't bother trying to impress me, mate, it'll just get stupid.)
'ha ha haah! excellent. what do you mean, average?'(quintessential al. should have stopped at 'flash')
'well, yeah, average across the world's surface, it acts in different amounts, so-' (if he wants to play...)
'anyway. i've got a constant, the timeline, x, but need to know the calculation for y.' (all right, all right, get to the point)
'you'll need.. erm... yeah, s equals u.t plus half a.t squared. tht's the one.'(ta da!)
'hang on, i'm typing this in one-handed. the other's holding the phone... next is projectiles. jesus, what don't you know?'(it's true. he knows everything. what a dude.)

so y = ut+0.5atsquared, where u = initial velocity (drop=0 throw =+/-), t = time (frame no.), a = acceleration (9.8), y = distance (actual height of dropped object, not distance moved).

saturday 8th june
suit shopping on a saturday, fully tailored. kate's wedding at the end of the month is now not a worry, but a treat in store. florey won't know what hit it.

friday 7th june
'...so hurry hurry chicken curry - your vote counts!' - davina mccall, big brother.
'who are you gonna trust? me. because i'm trustworthy.' - deep blue sea.

the headline news at seven story began, 'cometh the hour...' echoing the current billboard campaign as we beat the Argentina's 1-0 in saporro. i tell you - with the extra bank holiday courtesy of her majesty the queen and the three day week everyone's chuffed to bits around here. they were beeping like loons, all across the streets with trumpets and drums and just so many st. george cross flags. it looked like a day in history. and man... london is buzzing. come on england!

i've noticed the informa server logging on to here recently which can only mean one thing: jen has got a job where she used to work. well done, iffa, and 'hello!'

thursday 6th june
that cold comfort remix almost makes me want to eat my ears. it's sooo good. normal day #2. so far so good. bandana for work, bandana for home. kamikaze-stylee. don't get complacent.



he's at it again.

wednesday 5th june
the new adventures of curve arrived today, sitting on the doormat. that's two new albums in as many months. it turned out to be a normal day which, for me, was a change. i'm definitely not used to this but it could definitely get that way if i'm not too careful.

rob the student this afternoon in the studio: "curry for breakfast, curry for lunch... it was like a dream."

tuesday 4th june
i tell you, you can't move for days off around here. the field of dreams smells good. for some, though, i think it's just one day too many. the conversation turned to the comedy line, "mate... when did women start getting so clever?"

monday 3rd june
early doors undoing of the m4 with r&c's two 'late nights between intermittent wipers. the last time i listened to it i was returning from la plagne which is also the last time i felt this relaxed and balanced (i'm a libran, but it's not an exclusive club apparently..). i found that place sooner than i though i would over the weekend. somerset in the summer seemed as old english as you could get. i shall look forward to returning the third week in july.

sunday 2nd june
slug-like come on englands in a sleeping bag before a full day of sun, football, barbecues, annexes, cricket-bat foot/baseball and a dugout constructed from a five-a-side goal and a garden bench, the laughter as pete walked through the field of sheep in his fishing hat we all tried to come up with suitably funny comments, one being 'honey? i'm home!'

if only the leica was back from the repairers. damn you, technology. and damn me for depending on it.



saturday 1st june
chris' stag do began with a placid tone as lbc and me unravelled the m4 at 90 with the windows all the way down. the crows turned into a, in turn morphing into the crystal method as i got lost in bath. at the frome cottage the stag was lying down on the grass with the other stagees, exhausted from football in the sun. two goals had been erected in the old mill cottages grounds next to the brook that separated us from the mooing and baaing wildlife sloping around. it was 14-8. the combination of sun, exercise and alcohol was setting the tone nicely. i closed the car door without locking them or taking out the head unit, something i can never do safely in london without that pang of paranoia and met the boys, all the time unable to shake the feeling of being a big brother contestant introduced in week 2. chippy's "do you fancy a spate in goal?" followed by "you make it sound so appealing" soon changed all that. we raised the question of who would have been evicted first.




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