I trod on a plug

Last night, while I was lying in bed, a spider came down from the ceiling on a strand of silk (its own silk, not just a piece it had found in a cupboard or something), right in front of my face. Naturally panicked, I jumped out of bed, faster, I would imagine, than anyone has ever jumped out of a bed before, and in doing so, trod on a plug lying upturned on the floor. My foot hurts.

You know what I hate about life?

I hate seeing something I really, really want and knowing I'll never have it, like... like Taylor Swift. Or someone like Taylor Swift. I dunno, I felt like this wasn't as pathetic as just that when I started writing it, but now I'm struggling to move past it, maybe it is. I just hate the idea that there are people out there with incredibly glamorous lifestyles and I'm not one of them; I'll probably never be one of them. Or even just one of the people sitting in the park with a load of friends, always with somewhere to go or someone to call. Is it wrong not being able to handle that? Or is that just ambition? I get so frustrated, like I want to tear the whole fabric of my life apart. Even when I'm feeling relatively contented, some reminder of the life I don't have comes along, and boom, I'm back on the edge and wanting to throw myself off it. Do I need therapy for that? Does anyone want to give me online therapy?

Music

I like music quite a lot - probably too much - and for a fair few years now, I've lived under the assumption that I'd eventually be able to make a career for myself writing songs and playing songs and doing other associated things. I just finished writing a song. It's definitely not my first song, but it's the first I've managed to see through to completion. It's called 'Love By Any Other Name' and you can listen to it here.

It's about the stupid ways I think love construes itself - "I would get into a fight that I had no chance of winning" is the first line, and the one which I wrote first and ultimately inspired the rest of the song. That line in particular had been floating around in my head even before the song started to take shape, it was just a sentiment I'd always liked and had wanted to get into a song someway or other, so when an appropriate melody for it came to light, I was quite happy.

Anyway, it gets more and more ridiculous until towards the end I'm singing "I'd kill you just so I could be sure that you knew my name", which is supposed to be about killing someone you like so they can then read about it in the newspaper or see it on the news or something, so if they didn't know your name before you killed them, they'll never be able to forget it now. Except they'll be dead, obviously, so it doesn't really make sense, but it's kind of supposed to not make sense, because the whole point of the song is that every action is completely irrational. And then in the chorus I wonder whether those sorts of things are actually what define love or if I'm just MENTAL, before concluding that maybe all love is is being mental. So that's that.

It took much longer to complete than the song deserved - about 3 years, of which probably all but 6 months or so were spent writing the one verse I needed to finish - and now I'm not sure I like it. It's definitely not the sort of song I'd write now. Kind of twee. I don't like twee. But even more likely and even more distressing is that other people don't like it. And I know it's only one song, but to spend so long on it only for people to say it suggests music is something you have no future in - when you've pinned literally all your hopes on having a future in music - is quite depressing. More than quite depressing, actually. I can't separate music from my life. If I can't make music and make a success of myself doing it, my life has no point. So to fall at the first hurdle... well, that's crap.

Sometimes, even when life is going well and you feel good about yourself...

...and you're wondering, "How did I end up in this shitty state that I'm in?", something comes along and makes you think "Oh, I remember..."

I went to see this band called Women the other day, supporting this guy called Chad VanGaalen. I thought Chad VanGaalen was in Women because he was doing electronicy stuff with them, and after their set, since he was the only one at the front of the stage, I said hi and said I enjoyed the album and thought their set was really great, and he said "Thanks, but I'm not really in the band, I just play with them sometimes". So I was like "Do you want me to stop talking to you then? HAHAHAHAHA!" Then one of the guys who was actually in the band came over, so I started talking to him, when it suddenly dawned on me that the other guy was Chad VanGaalen, and I'd committed the BIGGEST INDIE FAUX PAS OF ALL TIME.

Then afterwards, I started talking to the guy from Women again, and we went outside because he wanted a cigarette, and some other people came over and started talking to him, and it turned out one of them spent a year in Canada, so him and Women guy talked about that for ages, and I was left with nothing to say but no clear moment to make my exit either, so I just really awkwardly and embarrassingly forced in jokes ("The Greyhound's a bus? I thought you meant people were travelling around Canada on the backs of dogs!") and dull questions ("What's the music scene like in Calgary?").

Then someone *else* from Women came over, and I started talking to him instead, and I said "The songs are much louder live than on record" (which they ARE), but then one of "Oh I lived in Canada for a year! I'm so cool!" guy's friends said "No way, the album is really loud!", which is when I started to worry I was just massively mis-remembering the album, because it's on my old PC and I only ever got to listen to it 3 times because I broke said PC, so I said this to the Women guy, hastening to add that I'd downloaded the album legally (note - lie), and he said "Oh, I don't care about that - I download albums illegally all the time", so I said "Yeah, so do I, but I don't really want to download stuff from independent bands" (still lie), so he said "I download stuff from independent bands..." and it was like I was chastising him for downloading stuff illegally, even though, in reality, we were actually kindred spirits! And he didn't get angry or anything, it just felt really awkward. Then he was like "But yeah, you're right, the songs are much louder live than on the album", and I was like "WELL WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST SAY THAT IN THE FIRST PLACE AND PREVENT ALL THIS UNNECESSARY AWKWARDNESS". And I went home wanting to die.

I asked out a barmaid

I don't know why I'm just telling you this now; it happened a while ago. It's quite a good story though, and I haven't posted anything for ages, so I thought I might as well. It's my 100th entry too, so enjoy.


So about 4 months ago, I was at a club with my friend. We went up to the bar, he asked me what I was having and I said "The barmaid", because she was quite pretty. I'd kind of fancied her for a while but I'd never considered doing anything about it. Then he asked me if he could borrow some money, so I said only if he told the barmaid I liked her. So he said he would, then I said "Omg, don't! I'll only lend you the money if you promise *not* to tell her I like her!" So he said he wouldn't and I lent him the money (which I think he still owes me, but that's getting away from the point).

The barmaid brought our drinks over, and despite my friend's promise, he said to her "My friend thinks you're really lovely", to which she replied "He's right - I am". I retorted with "Well I'm just glad my assessment of you was correct", before realising how awkward the whole thing was and walking away.

I sat embarrassed for a few minutes before deciding that surely the ice had been broken, the hard part was over and I should ask her out, so I wrote down my number on a flyer. Unfortunately, it took about half an hour for me to get my confidence up, and by the time I had, she'd disappeared. I waited for about half an hour, went and got something to eat, came back but she still was nowhere to be seen. Assuming she'd gone home, I put my number in my pocket and did likewise, with the intention of asking her out the following week.

So the next week, I returned with my friends, as planned, only for her to have apparently been given the week off. "Don't worry," my friends told me. "She'll be back next week". So, not wanting to see this week as a missed chance, I spent the whole of the following week preparing exactly what I was going to say and how I was going to say it. My whole week basically became geared toward asking this girl out. Then on the Thursday, one by one, each of my friends dropped out, until I had no one to go with. Still, I'd been waiting all week for this, so I decided to go alone (free entry before 10 o'clock anyway).

She was there, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I needed that voice of reassurance from one of my friends telling me it was the right moment, and I didn't have that, so I moped home after about 45 minutes of indecision, generally hating myself, and spent the rest of the night wondering whether I should go back and try again, until the club closed and it was taken out of my hands.

By the time the *next* week came around, I'd kind of lost all momentum. Previously, I'd had a real determination about it. Now everything just seemed murky in my head. I wasn't even sure I fancied her that much anymore. But my friends rallied round, told me I had to go and I went in for what I'd decided would be my final attempt (I go home from uni next Monday, so if I'd left it any later, there wouldn't have been any point).

Like I said though, I'd lost all momentum by this point, so as I walked there, I just kept asking myself why I was bothering. I really didn't want to do it. But then I saw her face and it all came back. I still lacked that confidence I'd had before though, so it took a good half hour for to even consider asking her out. Then, as the place began to empty, I worried that they were going to let her go home early again. She went over to the door and started talking to the doorman, and I worried that I'd missed my chance. So as soon as I saw her walking back over to the bar, I got up from my seat and - despite the fact that all but one of my friends had gone off for a smoke and I was alone once again - intercepted her.

"Excuse me," I said.
"You talking to me?" She asked.
"Umm... yes? Is that okay?"
"Oh, yes, of course. Sorry, I just thought that maybe I was in your way."
"Oh no, no." We both laugh. "Look, here's the thing," I continue. "You're going to be here every week because you work here, and I'm going to be here every week because I like it here..."
"You like it here?"
"Yeah, you know - the seats and... drinks... and... stuff. Anyway, all that's going to happen is, I'm going to keep looking over to you, thinking "Should I ask her out? Shouldn't I?", and... well, I wrote my number down about a month ago. My friend told you I thought you were love. I don't know if you remember. I didn't actually say you were lovely..." She appears concerned. "I mean, I said complimentary things, but you know... He was paraphrasing." She appears relieved. "So I was going to give you my number then but you went home before I got a chance, so I came back the following week but... you don't want to here about any of that. Basically, this is my number..." I put my hand in my pocket, but she interrupts me before I've even had a chance to grab the flyer with my number scrawled across it.
"That's very sweet, but I already have a boyfriend and I really, really love him."
"Really, *really*?"
"Really, really."
"Well, if that changes at all..."
"...I'll give you a shout. What's your name by the way?" She extends her arm and we shake hands.
"I'm Adam."
"Rachel. Nice to meet you."
"Even your name is nice..." I sigh as I turn away and she returns to the bar. I guess I'll never know if she heard me.

In response to my previous entry, someone posted the following...

"I think you're hot. I think you are a bit standoffish though. I think you know when a girl is interested in you but you don't make the effort. Sure I will see you around uni and you will walk past seieng me but not really seeing me Adam.
x"

The comment was anonymous. I would now like to know who that person was. Thanks.

Hello blog

I feel like I've been neglecting you recently, and man, THAT SHIT AIN'T RIGHT. But it's okay, because I'm here now. I've stayed up all night, which isn't actually as remarkable a feat as it sounds seeing as I spent most of yesterday sleeping, but still, I'm starting to feel the effects of the sleep deprivation. I couldn't even remember the word "deprivation". It took me ages. And just now, when I was saying that, I spelt it "deprevation". And before, when I was saying I'd been neglecting you, I wanted to say I'd been depriving you. And conversely, while I was trying to remember the word "depriving", the only word I could think of was "neglecting". But then I remembered how I wanted to say "depriving" when I needed to say "neglecting", and I just switched them round, and everything was OKAY. Man, sleep is AWESOME. I'm sure I'll be fine though, because I have you and you have me, and other than that, what else really matters? That's a tautology. Never mind. Well, maybe not a tautology, but a redundancy. The "else" is redundant. Or the "other". Take your pick. I mean, I'm not saying I'm not sure which is redundant - they both could be, just if you say one is, then the other is necessary. Is that a tautology? A tautology's like "single bachelor", innit. This probably isn't a tautology. Who cares. Man, we're going to have all sorts of crazy, lack-of-sleep-fuelled adventures today! I've already started writing a poem. It's called "Me, Ben Stiller and Tom Cruise". It goes like this:

Out on the town with Ben Stiller and Tom Cruise,
Tom feels left out 'cause me and Ben are both Jews.

That's all I've got so far. There'll probably be a bit where I mock Tom Cruise for being a Scientologist at some stage. Because that so hasn't been done before. Hehe. Firefox says "Scientologist" isn't a word. You got pwned, Scientologists! PWNED. Or I spelt it wrong and I got pwned. That would make me sad-face :(. Wait, let me Google... Nope, I spelt it right. Hehe. Pwned. There was this really good scene in Boston Legal about Scientology. <3 Boston Legal. Here is a link. Bye bye!