Robot/Zombie

Day Forty Seven.

You don't want to know what I've been doing ALL DAY. It made me feel like a cross between a robot, a data entry clerk, and a zombie. I was preparing the songs for mixing, and it doesn't half take a LONG TIME.

Like I said, YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW the detail, it's all very tedious.
But now that it's done, rest assured that I have de-cluttered my computer by deleting all of the unnecessary GarageBand and iTunes files. I hadn't realised how many versions of a song one goes through when making an album, sometimes eight or ten - over time. Well, the old versions have gone now, and my computer is a lot happier.

I'm looking forward to having done the final mixes so that I can be rid of the last few remaining back-up versions. And of course, by then we'll also be a huge way towards having the finished product in our grubby little paws.

Good night!

Gigging in Cardiff

This does not count as a day in the 100 Days Project, because the whole day was taken up with driving to Cardiff (and back) for Ember's gig at the Wales Millenium Centre. It's amazing that a one-hour gig is in reality an eleven-hour day. The ice and snow and many tractors on the road made the journey longer than it should have been, but we would have left with plenty of time to spare anyway, being the conscientious little musicians that we are. :)

The time spent on stage is the tiny tip of the iceberg in comparison to the off-stage work. But a lot of people don't realise that - they think all you do is perform. Wow, that would be a very glamorous life! At a gig in October, a guy came up to me and we had this little exchange:

Guy: "So how many days do you work, then?"
Me: "What do you mean, 'how many days'?"
Guy: "I don't know, how many days a year?"
Me: "Do you mean how many days a year do we play gigs?"
Guy: "Yes."
Me: "It varies, but we probably play between 60 and 100 gigs a year, give or take a few."
Guy [grins in disbelief]: "And you make your living from it?"
Me: "Yes, a very frugal living, but a satisfying one."
Guy: "Wow, I wish I could only work one day in three, or even one day in four - why have I been wasting my time working five days a week all these years when I could have been working two?!"
Me: "Actually for years we worked every day of the week, and only recently, when not gigging on a weekend, we might take that time off. There's a lot more to it than doing the gigs... Like getting the gigs, promoting them, getting to the gigs, writing songs (when we have the rare chance!), recording... And all the boring admin like sorting contracts and invoicing people, updating the website, accounting, and even packing up CDs that people have ordered online, then standing in the post office queue..."

And then he might as well have said: "But it's not really work is it..." as many others have before.

Ha ha. Do you know what, I am going to mark this as a 100 Days Project after all - I think I've done OK. I've got a lot off my chest (that's some de-cluttering, ha ha), and I've done something I've been meaning to do for a long time. Put this annoying conversation to rest.

Day Thirty Two.

Christmas Cards are GO!

Day Thirteen.

I've got to admit that I've jumped into this whole "Do Specific De-cluttering Task; Blog About It" thing rather naively, without any initial concept of the amount of time and effort required on a daily basis by what is, in reality, two tasks. I can only drop my jaw and gape in wonder at the wonderful work done by two of my favourite bloggers - Beth and Tammy - each of whom has a small child to deal with, as well as all the usual household tasks, as well as the daily blog and One Hundred Day Project. Argh! Much respect to you guys.

My boyfriend has started complaining that he never gets to spend any time with me. True, I am a workaholic, but this blog thing takes the biscuit, I reckon. I'm loving it though! Apart from the anguish it causes.

So today, I killed two - no wait! - fed two birds with one grain. As the washing machine is broken, I've been going to my mum's house to do it, but only once it has amassed itself into a giant pile of offensive sights and smells. While I was waiting for each load to finish, I wrote my Christmas cards, which will assuage my Christmas-themed guilt no end. I don't normally do Christmas cards. Or at least, if I do, I don't do very many. Raised with a strong work ethic, I usually feel that I should make them all by hand, deliver them by hand, accompanied by a home-made mince pie or somesuch. Then I run out of time, and quickly write out about half a dozen shop-bought cards. It takes a long time! I am not happy to send a card which has a pre-printed message, which is preceded by 'To Bob' and followed by 'From Joe' - what's the point in that?! So I like to write a little in each card, hardly a catch up, but something personal at least.


Here is my stash of ready cards - all that is needed is Phil's signature, and the envelopes have yet to be addressed. Getting there, getting there...