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Thursday, 10 January 2008

Happy New... oh... wait... umm..

So it's been a while since I posted last, and I'm feeling a little guilty about it, because I've been doing so much, but just not had chance to write. I thought I'd start the new year with a quick run-down of some stuff I've been up to since my last post, after that I'll just ad-lib until I get bored. You'll be bored way before that, so by that point it won't matter. I'll litter this post with pictures to help those who can't read good (and maybe want to do other stuff good, too).

In my last post, I was back in Ibiza, and continuing to be an international menace to ugly dogs everywhere. Don't ask me why, these things are important to me. The sad thing was, for the whole 2 and a half months that me and Marisa were there, it pretty much pelted it down, and most of the time the weather was worse than if we'd have stayed in England.


Luckily the rain cleared up a bit while my Mum and Sister visited, which gave us and excuse to rent a car for the week, and get around the island a bit more than what I normally do.


Harriet (Chesty La Spew), Alice (Wee in Wonderland), Marisa (Yellow Pages), and the Mother Fus on Sant. Salinas Beach.


Es Vedra


The Church/Library at Sant. Miguel


The caves at Sant. Miguel

After they went home, it went back to pretty much business as usual, although of course things picked up for Krystle's birthday, which in Ibicencan circles is well known as a poor excuse to go to Ancient People (possibly one of the best curry houses on the face of the Earth, and that's coming from someone who was born in Bradistan) followed by a long bout of getting well and truly fucked up at Sid's new bar, Blu. It's not everyone who get's to have their own private party at an Ibiza club DJ'd by 3 internationally renowned DJ's. And me.

My story is that they warmed up for me, and I'm sticking to it.



"I've got the Key, I've got the Secret, I've got the key to some seriously cheesy old-skool anthems


Professional Argentinian bubble-blower.


Sharon encouraged us all to party responsibly. Presumably so there would be more for her.


Anton cooks up the old-skool, while Jimmy does something involving Glee, Scottishness and Shiftiness (some may argue that those two are much the same thing).


DJ Toga - one half of the Girls Skool dream team.


DJ B Fly. Reeeeeeewind selectah! Bo Bo Bo! And all that Jazz.

After playing at Krystle's party, Sid asked me to play at Blu every week, which has been really fun, and following this, the owner is trying to get me a regular slot on Spanish radio station, Sonica. Hopefully I won't have to speak too much Spanish, as this could make things a little tricky :s.

I also attended my first lesbian wedding reception. Angie and Jo from the Queen Vic (next door to our flat in Ibiza) finally tied the knot, and had a fantastic party near Sant. Antonio. Luckily they chose not to have a DJ (or I think I would have killed someone - I've done far too many wedding receptions in my time), choosing instead to have an amazing singer while everyone got stoned on the roof of the villa.


Cutting the cake.


Scottish people and weed go together like Welsh people and sheep.


Krystle let the rooftop dancing all night, long after all the rest of us had caught pneumonia in the crazy-cold.

For Marisa's birthday at the end of November, Marisa's Dad was nice enough to send us to Granada for some much-needed R+R. He never mentioned that the place he was sending us to was halfway up a mountain 90 miles from anywhere though. Strangely, getting an internet connection halfway up a mountain is no problem compared to trying to get one in Ibiza, go figure. Casa Anna in Pituses (where we were staying) turned out to be absolutely beautiful though, and it was definitely nice to get out of the Moby's flat ;)



A double-decker bus. Just kidding, they're really mountains.


The view outside our window at Casa Ana.


Ana herself. She seemed strangely impressed by our culinary skills. Because of her remote location, little is known as to whether she survived my Chicken Curry.


Pituses. Population: 18.


There were cat-types everywhere, all with nothing better to do than pose for photos.


- See above.


Huge Carpenter Bee-types - I don't know if they stung, but I didn't really feel like sticking around to find out.


The scenery around Granada airport.


The scenery around Manchester airport. Welcome back to the UK.

So... back in Blighty. The only reason for coming back to the UK was really to do some gigs that I'd promised I would over December (all cheesy corporate stuff) - not what I'd really wanted to do, but I'd said I would before I knew any better. Besides, the money was good, and I was good for the money. I finally got my grubby mitts on a Kaoss Pad 3 (I've been working on a website for Maureen, and She wanted to pay me in Kaoss Pad... I tried not to argue too much in case she changed her mind), the only problem was that the power block was rated for US voltage of course, not UK, so as soon as I plugged the KP in, it fried. I nearly stabbed myself with it I was so annoyed with myself. Grrrr. I'm still working out how I can get it replaced without having to shell out too much money (customs already took £50 off me for the privilege of receiving it as a 'gift', bless their hearts, and Korg UK refuse to even let me send it to them, it being a US model).

To console myself, I bought myself a Wacom Bamboo tablet to replace my old Graphire, which lost its stylus many moons ago. The new one feels much nicer, and is twice the size, so I'm very happy about that :)

So... we're into 2008, what's next? Well, tomorrow my Dad will learn of the plot to have him forcibly removed from the family home. Everyone has asked him nicely to leave (for those not in the know, my dad is an alcoholic psychopath with narcissistic personality disorder - seriously, he's a psychiatrist's wet dream), so now Mum's asking for a restraining order from the courts. It's a shame it's come to this, but he won't listen to reason and he's making everyone's life a nightmare, so there's not really any other option any more. When he finds out about it we're predicting temper tantrums, so we're all going to stay with friends for the weekend, until the court hearing on Monday, when he will have to leave the house. We'll be having a huge party on Friday night to celebrate.

Then Saturday will be another weird one for me - I'm going to Scotland for the first time in my life (it's an old school-friend's wedding). The whole weekend is going to be a bit touch-and-go, as on Sunday I fly back home to Ibiza. Of course the wedding had to be not just in Scotland, but pretty much as far North in the UK as you can go without dying of hypothermia in the North Sea (not really my ideal way to die, and yes, I do have one).

Rinse, and repeat ;)

3 comments:

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