so the kid failed maths this year and i have the dubious pleasure of helping him get a pass so he can move on to the third year. yikes! we’re not called bad mathematics for nothing. what has been astounding about this whole process is that i’m finding that i’m not really as hopeless as i thought i was. i’m getting the kid to explain what he’s doing to me. this has two results. firstly, it makes it clearer to him and secondly, his dear old mum is starting to understand algebra!
you have to understand the significance of this event in my life. i struggled though secondary school maths in a twilight zone of hideous teachers that sounded like that character from peanuts that went “mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah” (or something like that). i would sit at the back of the class, pretending to be writing everything down when in fact, i was practicing my autograph, preparing for my diva years. it all sounded like utterly pointless drivel to me. don’t tell the kid this but i still think it’s utterly pointless drivel but now i understand it. another useless bit of nonsense that i can do.
before all you mathmaticians explode or start firing off angry letters to the management™, i would just like to point out that i do understand the reason why we are forced to learn this stuff. it stretches our brains and gives us a foundation for other boffin subjects like physics and chemistry blah blah blah. but. and it’s a big but. i know for a fact that i will never be in a situation where i have to actually use this knowledge. ok, i can work out how much i have to spend on each person if i have 24 quid and a party of eight to entertain but can mathematics tell me what to cook or how to use most the budget on booze? no. it’s woefully inadequate for preparing the next generation for real life. can maths help me choose between eating twiglets and chocolate for breakfast or having a hearty meal that will keep me going all day. no. not that there’s much difficulty in working out the right answer.
so, while i’m pleased that the kid is making headway towards passing his exam and i’m happy to add more useless information to my sorry excuse for a brain, i am desperately worried about this generation’s future if they are still having to learn this stuff. isn’t that why the eggheads invented computers? so they’d never have to put pen to paper or show working out? or learn? or think? i would like to propose that we scrap all traditional forms of education and just give kids laptops. everything you could possibly need or want to learn is on wikipedia and everything else can be found with google. there are facebook groups for absolutely everything from “we hate facebook” to “bad mathematics” and they could twitter and chat their lives away without the use of drugs and alcohol.
let’s save our children’s brains and give them carpel tunnel syndrome instead.
now i need to lie down.
my head hurts…
so we are going to get together tomorrow after a two week break. the build-up to the gig gets more intense. will we be ready? do we know what we’re doing? are we really a band ? come on wednesday (the 12th march) next week and find out…
being the only woman in a band is a double-edged sword although i’ve made some radical changes recently… i no longer get glasses and ice for the other members of the band. even though we meet up at my place, it is a case of “mi casa es su casa” (my house is your house) i.e. get your own ice.
the great and terrible responsibility is that i get to make the playlist for each gig. actually this has nothing to do with being female, i just wanted to complain about having to get the glasses and ice. it’s just that the rest of the band (for some strange reason) trust me with this job.
so the gig is getting nearer and my thoughts turn to what we should play at after dark. we’ve played some really good sets recently but we have this continually nagging desire to do something different each time. so… what will we play ? who knows. you’ll have to come and find out. or read about it the next day (like a sad johnny-no-mates) on our site.
be there on the 12th…
bad mathematics, us, the band, we talk a lot… about where and when we want to play, about who we want to play with, about the size of the audience, about how we should present ourselves, about… stuff. band stuff. we are in many ways like teenagers looking for and procrastinating about the possibility of a date. (let’s say it like it is), the possibility of sex.
is performing live like sex ? well…. in some ways, yes. it is. there’s the negotiation. the when, where and how. there’s the preparation. what should i wear ? what songs/moves are we going to do ? there’s the rehearsals, done without an audience, fraught with anxiety and doubt. and there’s the dawning of the big day. the nerves, the stomach aches, the phone calls and the point where you can’t back out (however much you’d like to)
and then you’re there. in the venue. panic and mayhem going on but somewhere, there’s this calm, cool voice saying this is what you wanted so you just have to take a deep breath and go for it.
the first notes drift uncertainly over the babble of the crowd and attention shifts to you. you who have exposed yourself to the possibility of reaching for something out of the ordinary. and there you are, naked, vulnerable and with nothing to fall back on apart from yourself. no one can rescue you. no one can save you.
and when it goes badly, it’s horrible. there may be words of encouragement and commiseration but you know it was bad. and nothing can turn back the clock and make it right.
but when it’s good, it’s like nothing else. you want to be there for always. in that moment. when you are right there, on top of the world. and you love the whole world and everyone loves you.
yes, it’s like sex and we wanna do it again. very, very soon.
we’re talking about the next gig and the possibilities are coming together. we’ll keep you posted…
over and out
so i’ve been shopping because let’s face it, you don’t want to see me in the same old rubbish, do you? and what you wear on stage is the most important thing…
but seriously, what i wear on stage is significant. they are my stage/party clothes and give me a feel of diva-ishness™ that jeans and t-shirts just don’t do for me. after all i slob around most of the time in them and rarely think about dressing up.
i don’t wear make-up on a daily basis so putting a bit of slap on is something a bit different for me. and let’s face stage lights can make you look pretty bloody awful whether you like it or not.
so what’s with the bare feet i hear you scream very quietly from out there in blogland ? simple answer… i like it. long answer… well, it started because i am not really a shoe person and i had nothing to go with my skimpy outfit for our first gig. so instead of going out and spending a small fortune on appropriate shoes, i went barefoot. I also spend most of the year here in greece barefoot. i don’t like shoes. i remember as a kid, my mum nagging me to put on shoes because it was cold/my feet could get cut/proper people wear shoes. well, i didn’t grow out of the barefoot thing. friends have remarked on my horribly dirty feet because i do the gardening barefoot too. i love the feel of earth on my sole. they clean up well though. i have performed once with shoes. if you can name the venue where i was on stage with shoes, you get a prize. seriously, you will get a prize. answers on a postcard… just name the venue in the comments.
and what’s with the rug i hear you sigh weakly after reading all the above nonsense ? it ties in with the bare feet. now those of you who get up on stage from time to time (mad fools that we are) know that rock venues have a tendency to be full of smoke, booze and… glass ! so the rug started off as protection for my feet ! seriously. and it stuck pretty fast. now, it’s the holy rug and other bands we’ve played with actually get it and treat it with the utmost respect.
our friends who we pay huge amounts of money to come and support us our die-hard fans have come to expect the rug and have even asked about it on the couple of occasions we didn’t use it. if you can name the couple of occasions (even i can’t remember but i’ll check), you get a prize. and if you can name the venue where we used a different rug, you are a stalker and need to get a life. 😀
enough of this waffling and nonsense, i have to focus. we have a gig tonight!
ps we love our friends and die-hard fans without exception. any offense caused in this post was totally unintentional. love you guys… seriously.
here it is…the holy rug