Skips A Beat (Over You)

Making goals and promises to yourself is horrible. And difficult. Because yesterday I was all like "yeah, I'll do this and I'll get all this done" and today I was like "oh Jesus I'm going to fail". It's impossible to break big textbooks into small chunks and pretend to yourself for an hour that you only have to read that one chunk and not the rest of the book. This is my issue.

And I've made a whole list of stuff that I want to do, or be able to do in the next 12 months, and after today's display of dedication to my own cause, I'm beginning to wonder if I'll just get to this time next year and be like "fuck."

But being positive. Yes, being positive. Sitting on the floor. Getting pins and needles. Being positive.

Ow.

It's weird. When I was at Hills I really hated the regimented essay planning/weeks of revision thing they had going. But I could seriously do with some of that right now.

bai.x.

Naïve

I found a mix CD I made forever ago - it has the Kooks on it. Aw.

I also found a piece of paper with the following on it - it was written by Jon Foreman to go along with Switchfoot's album 'Nothing is Sound'. My favourite parts are in bold.

In 1991, when Rolling Stone interviewed Dylan on the occasion of his 50th birthday, he gave a curious response when the interviewer asked him if he was happy. He fell silent for a few moments and stared at his hands. "You know," he said, "these are yuppie words, happiness and unhappiness. It's not happiness or unhappiness, it's either blessed or unblessed". This record was written somewhere between the blessed and the unblessed, between the godly and the ungodly by a few young urban professionals from San Diego. These songs are dreams and questions, bleeding together, breathing in and out - always somewhere between life and death. And I feel this tension, this distance now more than ever, like a numbing ache...deep inside. The distance between the way things are and the way they could be, the distance between the shadow and the sun. And this is where we exist: within the paradox. Living out our lives: oxygen and carbon and hydrogen and so on... This record was the attempt to make something beautiful in filthy backstage dressing rooms everywhere, trying to sing something true with a broken hear. This record was written about things that I don't understand. And yes, there's more than a wink of irony in all this: making music from our most intimate thoughts and selling these songs online for a dollar a pop. Singing an anthem every night about how "we were meant to live for so much more" and many times feeling like a failure; singing "I dare you to move" and feeling trapped. Both loving and hating all the fuss that the music has brought. Knowing that even Rock and Roll, perhaps the best job in the world will not make me happy (in the yuppie sense of the word). And yes, this American life is absurd! a strange paradox indeed... Perhaps no amount of money, sex, or power has ever satisfied us before, but maybe today will be different! Maybe this new purchase will make me happy! And the sun rises and sets once more - another day, another dollar. A carbonated beverage will help to chase your insecurities away. This new product will help to fill the meaningless void I feel inside. And so I drink the beverage, wear the clothes, and watch the war on TV. meaningless. meaning less. Do we hunt our ridiculous surburban dreams like the neighbourhood cat? Have we quietly fallen in line with the advertisement? Are we driven by ego uncontrolled, our lives simply vain pursuits of meaningless ends? Do we attempt to validate our existence by material means, relational acquisitions, sexual conquests, fiscal achievement, and cultural prowess? It was another Jewish man who said something like this a while back - "'All is meaningless', declares the teacher, 'meaningless, meaningless, everything is meaningless'". For me, there is a terrible, wonderful freedom in coming to terms with these un-happy, un-yuppie words. It's a strange consolation in our dizzy and breathless race for happiness to find that you will never outrun the horizon. It's an avalanche you can't escape. It's a fatal wound that you cannot heal. If you fall on this rock you will be broken, if it falls on you, you will be crushed. You see, this album started with a blow between the eyes that I'm still recovering from, that's really all I've got to offer these days. So in the half-light glow of radio shows, music videos, and greedy billboard charts I am aware of a darkness that is beyond me, I am coming to terms with my unbelief. No I don't believe in rock and roll. No I don't believe in the success that we've achieved. And no, I don't believe in me. In a free market world of the bought and sold I feel caught in between. I believe I've heard about a man who was exploited to sell everything from indulgences to the wars of men. And yet he offered only one bitter pill that was not easily marketed. Maybe that's what this record hopes to be: a simple bitter pill of truth that steps outside of our hamster wheel and looks up at the stars and beyond. Maybe Dylan was right when he said rock and roll isn't rock and roll anymore. I've met so many lonely, desperate, beautiful people over the past few years. Yeah, I've got a bitter pill to swallow, but it might just be true. Maybe our lives drift quietly by and we can't stop the current. Maybe this modern river leads to the sea of death, where no medicine can cure these ills. Perhaps our restless wanting is satisfied only outside of ourselves. It was another Jewish man who said something like this, "If you seek to gain your soul you will lose it." I am on a journey that will one day come to final terms with these words.

Mm.

I'm cold. On the subject of Bob Dylan, I've finally listened to Blonde on Blonde, the album that inspired one of my favourite Nada Surf songs.

Cleaning is therapeutic. Finding all the pieces of my life that I've chosen to hold on to.

I feel like I've been so busy. This week has just disappeared. London was good.

I'm making a concentrated effort not to worry about things that are out of my control.

The new library opens on Tuesday, and it's come at just the right time, so I know I can escape somewhere and do my revision.

My new books came the other day. I enjoy the feeling of naïve happiness that comes with starting a new course, everything is so exciting, and I feel like I believe that I'll enjoy every moment of it, even though I know that's so not true.

But it's going to be alright. Everything is going to be fine.

Contemplating becoming a musician again.

bai.x.

Dust of Ages

http://www.schmap.com/newyork/sights_panorama/p=5367/i=5367_189.jpg

Check me out. I got one of my photos published on this website. ^

Doing lots of tidying and stuff. Proper update later.

x

Rinse

"what if i'm not what you think"

Essay = done. Course = almost over. Just an exam to revise for now. I woke up this morning desperate to do more work. It's weird, every time I finish an essay I feel an overwhelming desire to get loads of work done, except this time around I didn't have anything to do apart from revise. I'm putting the beginning of revision off for a couple of days, but I'm going to try and do lots before my new course starts, so it all doesn't pile up at the same time. Now that's organisation.

So instead of doing work, I went to the library, and then to Waitrose to buy food for next week, when I'm going to be cooking lots :) which I'm looking forward to. Then I came home and had egg and soldiers (something I haven't eaten in many years, and seems to be some sort of childhood nostalgic meal), watched Role Models (still funny), and then made butternut squash soup. Butternut squash is ridiculously difficult to cut up. I got a blister from the knife. And it's not like the knife was blunt, but it took me over half an hour to cut it up into chunks. That said, it's totally worth it. It's my favourite soup in the world.

A-Z is going pretty well. Onto albums beginning with B. Currently listening to Ingrid Michaelson - Be OK.

Work is good. It's weird how much things have fallen into place over the last few weeks. It's strange looking back months ago when nothing seemed to be working out at all. Like I said, the next year is going to be good.

Wednesday was my last night with Smem and Chris before they left to go back to uni. It's going to be weird without them, when they've both been around for ages, and I've seen them every week. But the other night was the perfect end to the summer. We went for a drink, then to the Wok & Grill and ate lots of awesome Chinese food, and then bought beer and sat in the dark on Smem's trampoline. It was one of the best days I've had in ages.

I'm back to reading Simon Schama's History of Britain. I was halfway through the first book when I stopped reading just after I started working at Fopp. Trying to get through my list of books. Still got 15 to read.

Going to go and do something productive.

bai.x.

There She Goes

So I just saw Julie & Julia. What a totally amazing film, so feel-good and funny, and like, kind of inspiring - especially as a person who never finishes anything.

In light of this, I am going to cook myself loads of amazing food next week when I'm home alone, learn to like mushrooms and fish, and maybe actually try to finish something as well.

I've been contemplating the future of my OU degree. But I've got to finish it, I mean, there's no point spending £3,000 just to give up.

This is just going to be another day like the days I have every couple of weeks, or even every day when I'm like "oh, next week I'll do things differently and I'll do this and achieve that" - I mean, I'm not kidding anyone, least of all myself. It would be good to find something to do that I could stick to, just so I don't feel like people's evaluation of how I spend my time (working 2 days a week and doing fuck all the rest of the time) is actually true.

It's just a question of finding something to do. There's no way I could cook my way through a recipe book. But y'know. Something. Anything. So maybe I can look back this time next year and be like "wow, I really stuck to something for once". That would be so cool.

Okay, I'm going to shut up now, because I'm totally raining on my happy mood. Talking of finishing things, I should probably get on with my essay. Gah.

bai.x.

Marrow

Bad idea: writing songs when you should be writing about museums and exhibitions.

I've screwed up my arm yet again. Been getting weird pins & needles in my hand over the last couple of days which worries me slightly.

Not progressing with essay or the A-Z as I should be, because I've taken to listening to the Tor/Sufjan Stevens Illinoize album.

Time Is Running Out

You know I'm procrastinating...

So I know I mentioned doing the A-Z of all my music again. Well, I've just started. Except I'm doing it by album this time, so I'll end up with a lot of songs at the end that have no album title in my iTunes, but oh well.

First albums are Absolution by Muse and Acid Tongue by Jenny Lewis.

I'll update more later, when I've actually listened to more.

Also, I just realised that this definitely solves the problem I had last year of finding myself having to listen to 120 Death Cab songs in a row. Win.

bai.x.

Plenty of Paper

I hate me 8 months ago. Just looking through my notes from then to use in my essay, and they're completely shit and nothingy. This is going to be great when I start trying to revise next week. It's my final essay for this course, and I feel like I've got to do better than ever. Which is great except I'm working on the day it's due in, which is normally when I do most of the work. So I've got to restructure my week, which means not finishing the course material and trying to start it today. Well, planning at least.

Yesterday I got to work feeling lethargic and cold. I sat huddled up in my new coat hoping for a quiet day. Then I realised that I didn't need tea or coffee, but hot chocolate. Oh Starbucks caramel hot chocolate. The exact definition of a hug in a paper cup. I spent the rest of the morning cleaning and trying to avoid customers so my state of mindlessness showed as little as possible. But the afternoon was better. Selling expensive stuff to people always makes you feel like you've achieved something, even if you don't have to do any proper selling.

I just bravely removed a wasp from my room.

Happy it's almost autumn. Summer seemed to go so quickly, now that it's gone, it all seems such a blur, but I think I just wasn't even in a place where I could appreciate it. There's always next summer anyway. But autumn means pretty trees and leaves and frost in the mornings, and walks to Trumpington when it's getting dark. It means fires and gingerbread and scarves. I love autumn.

I've managed to stop biting my nails. Even if I can't stick to anything else I say I'll do, that's definitely one small achievement.

I saw Peter Broderick the other night. He is an amazing man. So talented. And only 2 years older than me. Watching him play a song with his friend Nils Frahm, I don't think I've ever seen two people seem to love what they're doing so much. Like, you see bands and it's clear they've been on tour for a while, and that that night is like any other, unless the audience are particularly awesome or whatever, and it's not that they don't enjoy it, but it's just not special. Watching Peter and Nils was something special.

He's also one of the nicest people I've ever seen. He was apologising for not having new songs, and that next time he came back he'd have new stuff, and he said the night before he was playing in Brighton, and after the show this guy came up to him and said he'd been to see him the last 3 times he'd played in Brighton, and Peter was like "I'm sorry I haven't played anything new, but next time I will" and the guy was like "yeah, and maybe you'll wear a different shirt next time". And he just laughed.

Anyway. It's midday. I should be plan plan planning away. It's cold.

bai.x.

It's Been A Year

Alone.

"i was a long, long way off"

Wishful Thinking

These are by far the cutest shoes I have ever possessed.

Progress. Progress. That's good.

Saturday night was good, if only a little messed up. I talk way too much when I drink.

I'm trying not to worry. Honestly. Well, I'm less worried than I thought I'd be.

My arm is completely screwed up. Too much guitar playing and writing. And it's not going to get a rest any time soon.

I don't really have much else to write. I've been thinking about doing the A-Z music listening thing again, because whilst I was in France I realised that there was so much stuff I never listen to.

This week feels so busy. On Thursday I'm going to see Peter Broderick. Which makes me super happy. I will be tired but blissfully happy on Friday. I hope. (Which will only be ruined by a day at work).

ho hum.

bai.x.

"these are beautiful mistakes, walking out, and staying away"

Brand New Day

"for the first time in such a long time, i know i'll be okay"

Back from France. Happy. Good. Etc.

Things always fall into places better when you're far away. I realised that every time I go away somewhere and fly home, as the plane's coming in to land, I feel really grateful that I live where I live.

You can go to places that are unbelievable, eye-opening and stunning, but home is always home.

Reading Bill Bryson's 'A Short History of Nearly Everything' on the flight home, and realising my insignificance in the universe. As Dom said, do what you want in life, because when you look at the bigger picture, you're a tiny dot, existing for a tiny amount of time in an incomprehensibly huge universe. Might as well make the most of it.

Whatever I said before I left about things changing and disappearing, it will definitely be good if they disappear. I tear myself apart over things that are so inconsequential, and I'm not going to wait around hoping. I thought I should, but it's just really wrong.

I'll pick up my guitar instead. That's where my heart should be.

bai.x.