Because both senses of this song feel appropriate right now:

And because Madonna put one of those senses another way:

It’s my last night at home (as opposed to my last night in England), and my friend S and I went out for dinner locally (yes, lovely meal, thanks. The Palmerston. Do you know it?).

The reason we went out for dinner is that it will be S’s birthday while I’m in Malaysia. In fact, it’s occurred to me that while I’m away I will be missing the following list of events:

- The birth of my best friend’s first child
- My other best friend’s birthday
- My dad’s birthday
- Three weddings
- Hopefully no funerals
- Pancake Day

On the plus side, I will be gaining:

- Chinese New Year

I know I’m only going away for two months; but something about this trip does feel like A Very Big Deal. It has only really hit me in the past few days that, <gulp>, it really is happening. I really am going. Up to this point, I have been enormously blasé (and wouldn’t that make a fine cabaret name?) - to the extent that I was even slightly worried that I seemed to feel no fear or real nervousness about what I’m about to embark on.

Clearly, I needn’t have worried.

It’s not debilitating or stopping me dead in my tracks. I’m not filled with dread or beginning to think that I’ve made a mistake. But I am feeling that, well, something big is about to happen; and finally comprehending what I’m about to embark upon.

And that’s slightly scary.

But I’ll do it anyway.

I had my leaving drinks tonight (a fact which my friend Eddie couldn’t quite get his head around. “You’re only going for two months? And you’re having leaving drinks?!”). Anyway, I took my camera along with me to take photos, expecting full well to upload one or two here tonight.

Only: I didn’t take any photos.

Yet cameras symoblise that - and I’m about to use the ‘d’ word - dichotomy.

They symoblise taking part in the world. Interacting in, and connecting with, it. I took my camera because I wanted to capture this event and the people involved in it. And yet it never left my bag. Because I was, exactly, interacting and taking part in my world. I was so involved in it that it didn’t occur to me at any point to stand outside of it and take pictures thereof.

There’s one dichotomy.

And the other (does that make it a trichotomy?): you also don’t record the world when you’re not connecting with it.

ie: A lack of pictures can mean the exact opposite of the above. A lack of involvement.

Hmmm.

And thus endeth the Thought For Today. (That’s right, that thought is: “Hmmm”.)

I would write more, but I’m terribly tired. Thank you so much to all those who came out to play tonight. I would love to show you the photos, but unfortunately I don’t have any.

…and already the heat is affecting my brain. I’ve bought some shorts.

I haven’t worn shorts since I was about 18. My legs are not what they were like when I was 18. But you know what? These shorts look *good*!

Yes, thank heavens for the winter sales - and especially French Connection’s decision to include some spring/summer items from last year in its winter sale. These were half-price, so guess what? I bought two pairs. I am nothing if not a savvy bargain-hunter. (The other pair are a different colour, I hasten to add. Yes, that’s how savvy I am.)

And while I’m delighted that my new shorts flatter me - to the extent that, come the spring over here, I’ll happily wear them out (in both senses) with black opaque tights and little heels - they were, I must point out, primarily bought because I plan to do a far amount of walking while I’m out there. In, y’know, jungles and stuff. Well, vaguely green areas, at least. Perhaps the odd park or two.

The last thing you’re in the mood to do is reorganise your life. In fact, initially, you’re unlikely to welcome certain ideas or offers, simply because they’d lead to unsettling changes. Think carefully about this. Not only would you soon regret rejecting them, ultimately, you’ll probably have little choice but to go along with them. - My horoscope for today, by Shelley Von Strunckel.

Good job I’m going along with them, then, eh?

Sadly, the Baily Wellygraph blog is not to be. Not right now, anyway.

<Wipes away tear>

<Picks herself up, dusts herself down, and starts all over again>

Not to worry! This now means that I can crack on with promoting and properly writing this blog. Every day. Starting today!

<Puts on Rocky theme music>

<Makes a cup of tea>

<Has a lie-down>

Here’s the little pile that’s been building up over the past week or so: books (one by Derren Brown and one about the history of depression. Not sure what that says about me*), DVDs (including The Best Of The Colbert Report, Curb Your Enthusiasm and Lost In Translation), a film SLR camera kindly loaned to me by B, a blow-up in-flight pillow, an international adaptor, a pair of Grado headphones, the Lonely Planet guide to Malaysia (…Singapore and Brunei, should I care to visit them), a spare hard drive and an airline ticket. Oh, and one MacBook, currently out of shot.

Yup, think that’s about it.

*possibly: ‘That my mind is playing tricks, but I’m interested in finding out why’

And here’s the screengrab of what I saw:

33 degrees?!?

<Gives wide-eyed stare>

That’s hotter than Devon at certain times of the year.

I got an email yesterday from the agent in Malaysia - T, remember? - asking me if I’d be interested in giving a singing workshop in Kuala Lumpur on one of my days off.

As those of you who know me would suspect: I said “yes” immediately.

I’ve never formally taught before, but I think I would take to it like a duck to water. A duck to water holding a microphone*. I mean, both my parents are teachers, and I’m a Leo, so, y’know, how hard can it be?

Maybe the idea doesn’t faze me too much because I would love to pass on what (relatively little) knowledge I have about singing, and jazz, and help others to reach their potential. Having been a student of workshops myself - I got into this jazz singing malarkey by going to weekly vocal workshops, in fact - I’m also particularly evangelical about teaching in an informal, instinctive and emotional way, as it was exactly this sort of workshop teacher who changed my singing voice in an instant (for the better, thankfully). And given that I have no formal training in, experience of or knowledge about teaching, well… it’s just as well that I’m drawn to the “informal, instinctive and emotional” approach, isn’t it?

T says he wants to “play around with some ideas to make the trip more interesting”. Which is absolutely fine by me, as long as it doesn’t involve anything undignified and/or illegal. Here’s hoping that “teaching a singing workshop in Kuala Lumpur” will fall into that category.

*Note to ducks: Do not try this at home.

Without wanting to get too sappy: it’s hit me for the first time this week just how privileged I am to be going on this trip.

I found a Group on Facebook called ‘Penang’ - which has 1,628 (soon to be 1,629) members - and as I clicked my way through its 112 (count ‘em!) uploaded photographs, I was quite overwhelmed by the thought of going there. In a very, very good way.

I mean, just take a look:

I am going to spend time in this clearly fascinating and fantastic place. I am being paid to do so. I am going to live, and be treated, very well. And this has all come at the most perfect time possible for me.

In short: I am very, very lucky indeed.

<Dabs eye with hankie>

Right, now back to business…