Keep Your Head - August 01 2002

07.05 am I fed the cats, the Longhair looked at me and then at his
bowl containing yesterday's Whiskas and refused to eat it till I put a
fresh food from those little packets you can buy containing one fresh
meal. The milk was off, the coffee tasted vile, so I slung it and made
myself another. I think there are two pints left in captivity in the
fridge. I had all this milk you see, and had to cancel it three, four
days in a row. I am knackered again, listening to Count Five's
Psychotic Reaction.

On the train yesterday (31) I made a point of listening to the tape I
had copied from Erin's tape, and believe me, half past eight in the
morning listening to Noddy Holder yell at the top of his voice "Cum On
Feel The Noize" certainly wakes you up. I messaged Erin another poem.
And I had to delete another message just to keep it.

"Wish I could make you smile,
Laugh for a while,
Walk with you,
Talk with you,
Make it better than yesterday."

because Erin was sad. I got into work and my boss is away, and the line
that connects us to the outside world is down, and we are running on
128kPs back up line, and people started ringing up as soon as I had got
into work moaning about how slow everything was. I told them dont use
email.

I spent the morning finding out when the line (our main T2) would be
fixed, and received word that next Tuesday might be good, no, actually
today or tomorrow might be good. But in the end it turns out they will
fix it after hours on Thursday (which is today) because ten sites use
the box of tricks that doesnt work properly. And its the end of the
month.

At lunchtime I found a quiet corner to stand and I rang Erin to see how
she was. We weren't on the phone that long as she was still blue. She
had got my message though. We had a chat and then she had to go. I went
in HMV and bought four CDs, including two Green Day albums I don't
have. Then I got a free latte in Starbucks, and paid for the panini.
Then I listened to Ker Plunk on my desktop pc and had lunch. I also
went on the board to see what was new.

In the afternoon I did the tapes and then went home. I listened to
Erin's tape on the train going home, and there are songs on it that
remind me of her. A lot of new sounds I haven't heard before are now
working their way inside my head, like a new spectrum of colour. I
daren't think what I would be doing if I hadnt come to abctales, if I
hadnt met all the people I know now, if I hadnt met Erin. I think I
would be fatter in body and thinner in spirit. I probably wouldnt have
bought new shoes, or worn a suit I last wore five years ago. Or
experienced rejuvenation.

The weather was cooler today and it rained a lot at lunchtime, after I
had got back with my lunch.

I still slept on top of the covers again, because I am getting used to
doing that, and the cats are still fighting over who gets to sit on the
pillow. Longhair has developed clumps of fur on each side of his body,
and I spent twenty minutes teasing out one of the clumps. That was
after I had spent a couple of hours chatting to Erin. Tonight my wife
walked in and started reading what I had been saying. "Hey," I said, "I
dont listen to your phone calls, don't read my chat." She muttered
darkly that I would have to be off by 11 tomorrow. "What do you talk
about?" she asked, and I expected a spanish inquisition. "Books, and
films and music, poetry and writing." I said. She said was having a
girl's night out Friday. I would have to collect her at 11.30. I did
make the point of watching a bit of Octopussy that was on last night,
but I wasnt going to watch the news. The congestion charge is yet
another tax. If public transport was any good, people wouldn't use
their cars in the first place. One boundary is Tower Bridge, so when
that falls apart I wonder if they will use the money they raise from
charges to fix it. I imagine that the road up from South London will
turn into a motorway with 1,000s of cars streaming across everyday.
Property will change, and it won't be long before they build a huge
wall around the city and put watch towers up, and before you know it,
it will be like Berlin with officials stopping cars, "have you got your
travel permit, movement in London is restricted..." and a little later
people will be zooming about on motorcycles like Steve McQueen did in
the Great Escape, out by the North Circular. Of course the simplest
answer is to force everyone to drive Minis and nothing else, then every
morning it will be like the Italian job as Minis stream everywhere, or
else some through routes will become like Monte Carlo, racing along the
embankment, "oi! he hasnt paid his charge!"

I really like Erin.