Birthday
Ahh, birthdays. I was 31 yesterday. A nice low-key affair after last year's drama off rolling out of the 20something league with all the associated soul-searching and life stock-taking that that entailed (which worked out pretty well in the end: married to a honey, 2 kids, nice house, nice suburb, been involved with five album releases, another solo one on the way, lots of nice websites whipped up...)

Anyway, scored some nice winter woolies and a couple of CDs -- (Coldplay's A Sudden Rush of Blood, and The White Stripe's Elephant), and Milo drew me a fantastic picture of a birthday party scene which now hangs pride of place on my wall at work.

Doing the NZ Music Show on Radio Active the night before, my co-host Ju slid me an unmarked CDR and told me to cue it up 'without listening to it!' -- a tricky request, but something I managed through careful use of the PDF monitor levels (god that desk freaks me out. A quick side note: when the show was about 30 seconds away from starting, I put on my headphones to cue up track #1 for the night, and heard...nothing. No noise in my cans. Panic. PANIC. PANIC. After about 20 seconds of flailing about, pushing buttons and no doubt creating an absolutely hellish racket on the live signal leaving the building, I spotted another set of headphones across the desk, behind the turntables. I traced the 10 foot lead of my headphones to their plug -- aha! They were plugged into the turntables, and the headphones sitting by the turntable were the ones plugged into the desk. Fuuuuck!). It was a plinky-plonky casiotone version of Happy Birthday that Ju had whipped up at home and burned onto CD, over which she did a live, monotone Julian Clary-style rendition of the said song. What a nice thing to do.
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