Moka pots will be my downfall

How is it that someone can change their taste so much? I used to hate coffee, especially black, but now I love espresso. I suppose it's only since I went to Italy and experienced what real coffee should taste like. Short, black and thick, preferably with sugar. Drunk very hot, and with plenty of conversational people around.

Today is a good day. Even though the weather was seemingly even more abysmal than usual, it didn't seem to bother me because I've made some progress. We have players for our ensemble - instruments I thought only existed in dreams have come out of the rafters proclaiming their undying love for contemporary music, and even more miraculously are able to come along for rehearsals. This unforeseen surprise has brought me joy and cheered me up. This means my piece now has at least the required number of players to perform it, and has some chance of sounding good. I'll leave that up to the performers.

I received in the post this morning a woolen jumper. It often surprises me when I receive these gifts from my family, especially when they have such good taste in clothes. I am especially happy with this one because it's the first wooly jumper I've ever had with a hood. No prizes for guessing the colour: a uniform blackness, making a change from the other black woolen jumpers I have. Although as an afterthought this one has been trimmed with some white thread, making a more appealing outline than you would expect from such an addition.

As my plans for the rest of this year go, I'm waiting to hear from a certain Manhattan institute, although it also looks like they're waiting to hear from me. I'm anxious to persuade them that they would require me on their course to disrupt their stable composing community with insurrective talk and encouragement of constructive cynicism, in the Scottish style. Why is it that some things always get in the way of this? Such as simple things like transcripts, certificates and other things which I can't control. The problem is that I am basing on the Dutch institute which simply asked me to send some scores along, and then they'd ask me along for interview if they liked them. Straightforward, to the point, and exactly what composition should be about. In contrast the American system is to have every piece of paperwork in order that they never have to talk to you, and that they know more about your academic rigour than you do. My problem with that is not their persistence, but rather that they don't seem to be interested in what I'm going to do, or what I show potential for, but rather what I have already done. I consider every work I have done so far to be inferior to what my ideal is, and that I simply haven't found the right way to express what I want to do. How I can possibly say this in a personal statement or curriculum vitae I don't know, but they expect me to, and I've jumped through the hoop. All I can do now is to wait for them to reject me. All I'd like to say is that I need to be there in order to complete the next stage. I have worked out that what I am doing now is not what I'd like to be doing, and the problem is not the people or even the opportunities, but rather everything else - the place, the weather, and what makes me happy: my surroundings.

Having said that, I wish to inform you that I am not going to let anything stand in my way. I intend to get what I want. The world is my oyster today, and I'm going to let it stay that way.