Today has been a good day.

Very productive, and I feel very positive about the future.  The new positive, ass-kicking Ina is a good person.  She isn’t rich yet, but she is moving in the right direction.

I am moving into a new phase, which will help other people, because they will actually hear what I have to say.  This is a very good thing for me, and a good thing for the people that I choose to help.

I am a lot happier as a result.

There will of course, be a thousand haters for every person that listens but thanks to a kind man, I am now confident to move forward to a better future.

With any luck, Staring Brat 2 will be safe, and things will improve markedly for everyone concerned.

I cannot tell you what a relief this is.  I have also highlighted the problem at the government office, and this will have to be dealt with by them, however it will be a lot harder to ignore the problem for future victims.

So, now it is on to my next appointment.  I will have to be up early to pull this one off, but we shall see how it goes.

Never stop fighting, and never lose sight of what is important, even when the people concerned are little shits that don’t deserve your attention or concern.

Stay focussed, and stay cool.

It shouldn’t be happy, because it didn’t start out well at all, but today turns out to be a great day.

Made some serious decisions, now depending on what happens with the ongoing progress I am likely to have a split life doing three or four different things. Far safer.

I am quite looking forward to a more theatrical and fun life, if I pull this off.

Very hard work though, and a little bit exposed as my apparently focussed fan may find me, but I am just not going to worry about it.  Even he is better than my family, and that is saying something.

Some old opportunities have reemerged, hopefully I can do something with those too.

Almost allowing myself to be excited, but not quite.

Ina

Loving this track, you need headphones though

Got some more products for Ina underway.  I think I would like to add a bunch of logo based products to some of the print-on-demand lines and maybe actually add the link to the website as things are a bit bitty at the moment.  (I started a project with Wolfe’s face on VIDA, and haven’t done any more with it.

Working on the screenplay for my film director ex, who is now sitting downstairs with fake Boris and DOING MY HEAD IN with nagging.  This is the hazard of making people well, really, isn’t it?

We need to establish that the camera is talking to the computers this morning too.

It is so nice to be able to make some progress.  I actually feel physically better as a result.  Managed to get 12k in yesterday.

Now aware of being unpleasantly besotted with the IBM, but being able to think about it without actual terror is a huge relief.

I wish I could say that I am a more cool and disengaged person generally as it would probably make my workflow less erratic, but I do seem to be a bundle of emotional nerves generally and it is probably quite central to my work.

A more interesting IBM short story is on the way, possibly today, but we shall see how it goes with the screenplay and sorting out the camera issues before I think about getting the car back.

Trying to think how best to approach getting better at the actual job.  I evidently have issues with the process.  It ought to be obvious, but my brain is not liking it, so I have to think around the problem.  I am sure I will think of something before my return to work.

So happy to be at home.  I looked into the alternatives yesterday, and short of buying a very cheap aircraft hangar, I am afraid I, and indeed anyone, would rather be here.  The selfish little shits will just have to spend their own money rather than mine.

And so begins the mammoth and obstacle ridden journey towards being Ina Disguise whilst persuading the IBM of my sometimes honorable intentions.

Waves,

Ina

There seem to be an awful lot of them, for a start.  I am not sure what happens to all the spare girls.  I haven’t bothered to look up the rates of infanticide before posting.

The first thing I noticed when I initially arrived was the mark.  They all have the mark.  Very few Moroccan street boys don’t have a little round scar under their jawline from where someone has pressed a knife to enforce rules of some sort.

The second thing I noticed was the sliding scale of racism.  One of the worst racial incidents I have ever seen was in Morocco.  Two oriental people were trying to board a plane to the UK, and they were summarily dragged off it.  Another East Asian from London complains bitterly on Tripadvisor on how badly he was treated in Morocco.

I am usually treated extremely well, because I am very down to earth and I am quite savvy.  There is a kind of hive mind, where if you don’t piss people off, you are under the protection of a selection of random strangers, and I have been fortunate several times that I seem to be OK.

“Are you American? English? German? French?  Ooooh you are Scottish.” Big smiles and offers of mint tea usually follow, thanks to the Moroccan love of football.

Besides that, Marrakech in particular is basically just the Barras and the merchant city dropped into the Sahara.  If you aren’t a moron, you will be fine, but hell mend you if you are.  I also recommend you do your shopping after midnight, as that is when the locals do it during the hotter months.

I could go into detail and tell you some amusing tales of people trying to rip me off, but Berbers regard this as a game, and if you win they quite like you for it.  If you have an attitude or you are horrible, you will not have a good time, so basically go somewhere where your bullshit is appreciated.

I will never forget the boy who was sent to perform the carpet shop con.  The carpet shop con is where a 19 year old or so is sent to offer to be your guide.  He is usually quite cute apart from the scars.  The boy who was sent after me on this occasion was heavily scarred and physically shaking because he knew he wouldn’t get far with me.  I was bulk buying wool at the wrong end of the souk in Marrakech.

“I will show you the tannery? ”  he said hopefully.

“Nope, I am buying wool.”

“The dyers?”

“Buying wool”

“Argan Oil?”

“Wool”

“Carpet shop?

“Look mate, I make carpets.  I’ll sell you a fucking carpet OK?”  He was utterly terrified, especially when about ten of my friends mobbed him to tell him to stop.  I actually felt sorry for him because I knew he would probably get another slash across the face for not managing to drag me up there.

The idea is that you get very lost in the medina, and then you are dragged to a shop where you are shown a selection of very expensive carpets whilst drinking tea and whilst the store owner figures out how much money they can sting you for.  Why they wanted me is a mystery, given that I had wisely chosen to wear my studio clothes on that trip.  I was as scruffy and covered in paint as everyone else.

Anyway, the training for this starts with street performance as a child.  One of my favourites was a low level firework which you watched whilst a child robbed you.  This time I was rescued by the food vendors in Jemaa el-Fnaa, who dissuaded the tiny team from going through my 12 pockets.

I love Berbers but don’t learn management strategy from a Berber.  Ruling by fear and a knife is not the same as leadership, and lying through your teeth all day every day is not a happy way to live.  By all means learn haggling, but not management.