4 More days to go....
They say time flies when you are having fun but I genuinely believe that it flies no matter what you're having. It seems like just weeks ago I was waiting for the end of quarter four at work and now It's almost quarter three all over again. It's the same personally too; I remember booking my tickets for the Panic! At The Disco gig in Brixton and thinking it was months away, well October doesn't seem so far off now. This weekend my friends will be seeing them amongst most of the other bands I like at reading Festival (lucky sods), I hope the weather holds for them.
Whilst they are screaming along to some of the best music around I am at home (surprise surprise) trying to decide what's next for me. I was planning on getting piano lessons but this went on hold after my ipod was stolen and money my family sent me for my birthday had to be used to buy a new one. It might strike a lot of people as pathetic but I can't last a day without music and as such my ipod is a survival essential. Music gets me through the day, it helps me adjust my mood and focus on whatever the task at hand might be. Yet at the same time it is a welcome distraction from the monotonous routines of daily life. I quite often wonder how much more interesting life would be if I did something different (don't worry im not suggesting I should have been a ballet dancer or an astronaut) but if you did do something extraordinary would you settle and feel your life was standard and boring? Would you still get into a rut and want something more? I guess what I'm struggling to ask is- is the grass really always greener on the other side?
Have you noticed how questions are only ever answered by more questions? When your a kid you believe the simple black and white justifications, something really is either right or wrong. You get yes or no but maybe doesn't count. As a child you rest safe in the knowledge that telling your folks what's wrong will make it all better; that apologising for a mistake corrects it but as we grow we realise that our parents are as helpless as us and that I think is where fear of failure starts. If no one can fix your mistake how do you avoid making them? The only way of doing that is by not doing anything and inaction, seems at least to me, to be the biggest mistake.
I apologise for the lack of sense and order, I type as I think which is pretty much how I speak these days. I know part of it for me is not seeing enough people and being ridiculously insecure about the funniest thing. I mean I can fully articulate aerobic respiration which I haven't studied in over 5 years but I can't string a sentence together competently in public these days as I am so busy wondering what the people I am speaking to are thinking about. Told you it's stupid. Lately I have even found my self saying the exact opposite of what I meant because I was thinking of something totally different. My mind wanders and I can't catch it quick enough. It's not that I find people boring it's more that I float freely in consciousness rather than being tethered to the here and now. haha I did write the word nice just now rather than now and with no explicable reason. I think that might highlight the point.
Anyway (again totally out of any reasonable order) I think and speak almost at the same time now, there is little or no censoring between these two actions and I can only imagine the awkward expression on my face as I admit something to a friend or colleague that I had though but had no intention of revealing. Do I have foot in mouth disease?? haha it happens a lot.
Well a while back I was saying I couldn't pay for piano lessons cos I had my ipod stolen. I did report it to the police but the officer told me the guy I said stole it "wasn't the type" and "didn't look the sort" and as such I "must have dropped it between the taxi and the house". For the record the taxi was about 7 foot from my front door. I sat in the taxi and got my keys out my handbag as it was a heavy thunderstorm that day. I then struggled to get my suitcase from the taxi and take it to the door. The driver didn't offer to assist me in any way but it is the 21st century and women did fight for equal rights! I get in side the house put the suitcase down, nip to the bathroom say hi to cat and who proceeded to tell me he missed my tickles and then thought I should charge my ipod before I go out later. That's when I realised I didn't have my ipod or my bag with my medicine in it. Thankfully my wallet had been in my pocket. I know where the bag went and I know who took it and now has a shiny ipod with music that I seriously doubt is to his taste. But I'm a woman living in a constabulary where women have no brains and are incapable of knowing where they put things. In fact this is an area where men know best, the woman really does get chained to the sink and is only let go for certain other services and to take the kids to school. So it's gone.
The moral of that story-the police are still sexist and suffer from a disease called i can't really be bothered, much like me.
So it's really no surprise that when I bought an ipod on eBay it turned out to be a fraud. I lost my 170 quid but decided there was no point even telling the police. om on the other hand being an ex cop himself said I should. Having pointedly refused he reported it and ta-da! yet again the police were not bothered or interested. they even told him to track down where the money had ended up for them if he wanted them to persue it. What do they get paid for? I know not all police are the same but there is little wonder people don't like, respect or trust them.
I might try again at the booking piano lessons thing, after I get back from holiday depends on how much money we have left. My ultimate goal is to be able to write music, good stuff not the basic sort of thing I contritely force my fingers to tap out now. I think it should help my normal writing too as I will have a better grasp of how the two aspects come together. well that's the idea anyway.
Today I am listening to Fallout Boy-Take This To Your Grave. I love the anger and complete vitriol of Pete's lyrics their bitter sentiments contrast the sweet guitar riffs and catchy melodies. My current favourite on that album is a tie. Tell That Mick... is superb and the chorus is just deliciously angry whereas Dead on Arrival is a softer tune that strikes a chord with how I feel.
See ya later
Rachel
They say time flies when you are having fun but I genuinely believe that it flies no matter what you're having. It seems like just weeks ago I was waiting for the end of quarter four at work and now It's almost quarter three all over again. It's the same personally too; I remember booking my tickets for the Panic! At The Disco gig in Brixton and thinking it was months away, well October doesn't seem so far off now. This weekend my friends will be seeing them amongst most of the other bands I like at reading Festival (lucky sods), I hope the weather holds for them.
Whilst they are screaming along to some of the best music around I am at home (surprise surprise) trying to decide what's next for me. I was planning on getting piano lessons but this went on hold after my ipod was stolen and money my family sent me for my birthday had to be used to buy a new one. It might strike a lot of people as pathetic but I can't last a day without music and as such my ipod is a survival essential. Music gets me through the day, it helps me adjust my mood and focus on whatever the task at hand might be. Yet at the same time it is a welcome distraction from the monotonous routines of daily life. I quite often wonder how much more interesting life would be if I did something different (don't worry im not suggesting I should have been a ballet dancer or an astronaut) but if you did do something extraordinary would you settle and feel your life was standard and boring? Would you still get into a rut and want something more? I guess what I'm struggling to ask is- is the grass really always greener on the other side?
Have you noticed how questions are only ever answered by more questions? When your a kid you believe the simple black and white justifications, something really is either right or wrong. You get yes or no but maybe doesn't count. As a child you rest safe in the knowledge that telling your folks what's wrong will make it all better; that apologising for a mistake corrects it but as we grow we realise that our parents are as helpless as us and that I think is where fear of failure starts. If no one can fix your mistake how do you avoid making them? The only way of doing that is by not doing anything and inaction, seems at least to me, to be the biggest mistake.
I apologise for the lack of sense and order, I type as I think which is pretty much how I speak these days. I know part of it for me is not seeing enough people and being ridiculously insecure about the funniest thing. I mean I can fully articulate aerobic respiration which I haven't studied in over 5 years but I can't string a sentence together competently in public these days as I am so busy wondering what the people I am speaking to are thinking about. Told you it's stupid. Lately I have even found my self saying the exact opposite of what I meant because I was thinking of something totally different. My mind wanders and I can't catch it quick enough. It's not that I find people boring it's more that I float freely in consciousness rather than being tethered to the here and now. haha I did write the word nice just now rather than now and with no explicable reason. I think that might highlight the point.
Anyway (again totally out of any reasonable order) I think and speak almost at the same time now, there is little or no censoring between these two actions and I can only imagine the awkward expression on my face as I admit something to a friend or colleague that I had though but had no intention of revealing. Do I have foot in mouth disease?? haha it happens a lot.
Well a while back I was saying I couldn't pay for piano lessons cos I had my ipod stolen. I did report it to the police but the officer told me the guy I said stole it "wasn't the type" and "didn't look the sort" and as such I "must have dropped it between the taxi and the house". For the record the taxi was about 7 foot from my front door. I sat in the taxi and got my keys out my handbag as it was a heavy thunderstorm that day. I then struggled to get my suitcase from the taxi and take it to the door. The driver didn't offer to assist me in any way but it is the 21st century and women did fight for equal rights! I get in side the house put the suitcase down, nip to the bathroom say hi to cat and who proceeded to tell me he missed my tickles and then thought I should charge my ipod before I go out later. That's when I realised I didn't have my ipod or my bag with my medicine in it. Thankfully my wallet had been in my pocket. I know where the bag went and I know who took it and now has a shiny ipod with music that I seriously doubt is to his taste. But I'm a woman living in a constabulary where women have no brains and are incapable of knowing where they put things. In fact this is an area where men know best, the woman really does get chained to the sink and is only let go for certain other services and to take the kids to school. So it's gone.
The moral of that story-the police are still sexist and suffer from a disease called i can't really be bothered, much like me.
So it's really no surprise that when I bought an ipod on eBay it turned out to be a fraud. I lost my 170 quid but decided there was no point even telling the police. om on the other hand being an ex cop himself said I should. Having pointedly refused he reported it and ta-da! yet again the police were not bothered or interested. they even told him to track down where the money had ended up for them if he wanted them to persue it. What do they get paid for? I know not all police are the same but there is little wonder people don't like, respect or trust them.
I might try again at the booking piano lessons thing, after I get back from holiday depends on how much money we have left. My ultimate goal is to be able to write music, good stuff not the basic sort of thing I contritely force my fingers to tap out now. I think it should help my normal writing too as I will have a better grasp of how the two aspects come together. well that's the idea anyway.
Today I am listening to Fallout Boy-Take This To Your Grave. I love the anger and complete vitriol of Pete's lyrics their bitter sentiments contrast the sweet guitar riffs and catchy melodies. My current favourite on that album is a tie. Tell That Mick... is superb and the chorus is just deliciously angry whereas Dead on Arrival is a softer tune that strikes a chord with how I feel.
See ya later
Rachel
posted by stunted at 5:53 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home