Have you ever decided to do something, then at the very last second changed your mind? Dumb enough question, obviously you have. Might’ve been something big. More than likely something small. Well, I just had a change of mind about something pretty small and pointless. A cup of tea. Filled the kettle. Watched it for five minutes. Not true by the way. It did boil. Cup. Tea-bag. Spoon. All ready. Picked up the kettle. About to pour into the cup. Last second I defaulted. Change of heart. Mind. Both. Saved the tea-bag. Poured some water on the counter instead. It was literally that last of a second change. And the reason being, a bit of sense kicked in. I need sleep, not tea. No such thing as a quick cup. Better off going to bed. Wrecked. Sleep on. Tea off. Continue Reading »
Let’s just say Ireland was like rehab. A recovery period. Quiet. Peaceful. Not much temptation. Not much to do. Few distractions. Normality. Regular way of life. Now let’s just say L.A is the complete opposite. Beyond belief the complete opposite. I think the mistake I made initially was coming straight back into the bizarre but brilliant old world of L.A. Two feet straight in at the deep end. Swimming in a sea of temptation and randomness. Barely able to keep my head above water. Too high. Too fast. Too much bizarreness. Too much, eh, brilliantness. I had slowly weaned my way off the high of L.A while back in Ireland, that the sudden monster hit I had when I arrived back almost made me over-dose. All figuratively speaking. Obviously. Continue Reading »
Lately, I have realised that besides food and drink, all the items I am looking into buying or have bought, are simply replacement purchases. Camera broke. Must buy a new one. Microwave needed. Must buy a new one. Microwave broke. Must buy a new one. George Foreman went missing. Must buy a new one. T-shirt ripped. Must buy a new one. Even though I don’t really like that t-shirt or wear it often. And have at least four of similar cut, style and colour. Still, must buy a new one. For peace of mind. Can’t have my mind at war over a t-shirt. Hark back to the scissors incident. Speaking of which, another replacement. Forgot my scissors. Must buy a new one. After last night, a new item has made it’s way onto the list. This is how I became a phoneless bum. Continue Reading »
This weekend in Cork is big. Huge if you’re a plan addict. Not up there with events such as New Year’s Eve, Christmas or Halloween, but it is big enough to give you the plan making hit you need to keep you going. If you’re a plan head. Not only is it a bank holiday weekend, it’s a Jazz Festival on top. Bank holiday. Festival. 4 day weekend. 1 extra night to go out. Plan makers are foaming at the mouth as we speak. Shaking with anticipation. Taking deep breaths to calm themselves down. Running through the last minute checks to make sure everything is in order. All about the details. All about the timing. All about the plan.
Today, I had a bit of an epiphany. While out for lunch celebrating my sister’s Leaving Cert results, as I realized what was going on around me, I finally saw the funny side of how my life is panning out at the moment. Pretty funking funny. To me, at least. Laugh at, laugh with, laughable? There is no other way to look at it, just as long as some sort of laughing is involved. Especially when it seems like you are having lunch in what felt like an old folk’s home. For whatever reason, besides my parents, sister and myself, the rest of the clientele at the restaurant in the hotel were O.A.P’s. A few were just dozing off while eating their food. Conversations were trailing off into the wilderness. People were saying hello and goodbye to the same people every two minutes, perhaps forgetting that they had just met.
Immediately I got flashbacks of my Spring Break fiasco, where I stayed in a similar style old folk’s home/hotel in Mexico. Big difference being, it was Mexico, and only short term. At the moment, this is my life! And will be for another few weeks. I am dining with retired folk, discussing the lovely beef, admiring the fine portions they gave us. It has yet to make an appearance, but surely gardening will be on my to-do list soon enough. All jokes aside, if you were to ask me on the day I got my Leaving Cert results, would I be in this situation now, I would have probably laughed. And said hopefully, yes. Please God. Good to know that my life plan is on track!
In a similar vein, last Thursday a buddy was down in Cork for a night from Dublin. We mulled over the thought of going out on that night. Even though we wouldn’t be in town until 12 bells (it was a late idea), for a while we half fooled ourselves that something amazing might potentially happen. However, do you know what swayed me to stay in… ? My Mum asking me would I like a cup of tea! My buddy was just after sending me a text, saying he was 50/50 about going out, my call. What to do? Which do I choose? A cup of tea? Or a night out in Cork? Best case scenario for option B “Yeah, it was grand”. Or, a nice cup of tea, which you know will not disappoint? Easy option, tea on!
Anyways, the epiphany did me good today. I can’t help but laugh, and look forward to see what else springs out from my current daily way of life. My sense of humour is back fully I do believe. Which helped in my daily work today. The work of studying sitcoms, unlocking their formula, and using them to improve upon what I have done for my one so far. As far as I remember, that too would have been on the tip of my tongue the day I got my Leaving Cert results, if you had asked me what I’d be up to in a few years time.
Wrapping up, seeing as I am going up to do stand-up in Dublin again tomorrow, I needed to work on new material. Otherwise I was just going to go with a rant about the current state of Irish radio. Which would have been great. Thankfully, the seeds for new material are kind of above, in case you were wondering. Probably not. The train ride up tomorrow will be used to plump them out. Throw in pointless cursing too for some reason. And, obviously I’ll be adding in the really funny parts and hilarious punch lines then as well. I held them back. Obviously. Re de de, I am looking forward to bombing on stage, it has been far too long!
Song on, after the hectic and frantic pace of that blogaruu, a more chilled affair…
I’ll try to keep this short. I am getting a burst of writing, so I need to channel it towards a script, the blogaruu might have to take a backseat tonight it seems! Like a jilted lover, I hope it wont feel too neglected. Speaking of which, I think I may know what it feels like to be in a one of those relationships where the blonde, bimbo stripper marries a rich old man, hoping he will croak quickly so that she can enjoy his money. Kind of. In the worst comparative way ever. Anyways, it is good to try out what that must be like I suppose. To help me with my decision, in case any old rich woman ever offers me like wise.
For a girl in that situation, call her either Anna or Nicole, this is how I would imagine our current situations being a tad similar. Lets say her original plan did not go as she might initially have hoped and the old man hangs around for longer than expected. I imagine when she realizes this, time must stop in front of her and gloat. Ha, time will say, looks like you’ve to stick with him longer than expected. Not so clever now, huh. Taunting her that she will just have to live with her situation, and wait until he croaks. Make the most of it, keep fit in the gym, do bits here and there to stay busy. Can’t have it all her own way, but when she is living it up and blowing his money, she can look back and smile at those boring times. Eh, which is similar, if not identical to me killing time and trying to be productive while I wait to hear back about my visa. World’s worst comparison? Quite possibly. Although I do have faith that I could easily do worse.
Today I tried to be proactive, and start lining up DJ gigs in Dublin for myself before I go back up for a bit of stand-up. Practice and an influx of money are always handy. However, knowing where to start when you don’t really know the scene in a city is a hurdle. Similar to the acting side of things here I suppose. If I knew promoters or bar/club owners in Dublin I could work some DJ charm there. Seeing as I don’t really know any, I decided to do what at the time seemed like a very productive idea. I emailed a few different venues, along with a demo sample, seeing if they needed anyone for a night or two. Similar, I imagine, to what a few dumb, bimbos might have done if they were to get proactive in their hunt for a rich old man to marry.
Never, ever, ever, have I ever heard of someone getting a DJ job, from their credentials in an email, ha. “Hi, I DJ, I think I’m great, you will too, any chance of a night or two? Here’s a link to a demo. Cheers.” Pretty appealing offer, I think you will agree. Honestly, a dumb bimbo would have a better chance of getting herself a rich husband, by sending out an email “Hi, I’m me, here’s a photo, hope you’re rich, any chance of marriage? Thanks” than I would with mine. Unfortunately, at the time, I was imagining people working in bars and clubs all over Dublin, would stop whatever it was they were doing, throw down their work tools, and just start to dance to my demo when it started to play. Screaming at whoever it was that read my email that I had to be hired for a few nights!!! Seemed like a logic reaction to me at the time. That was until about a minute after I sent the batch of emails. Then I quickly realized I wasted too much time on that fruitless activity.
Although, one place did reply saying that they were booked out, but would be in touch if anything came up. Maybe not so dumb after all. Which doesn’t really make any sense, as I still didn’t get any joy. It has just occurred where I got the idea perhaps. Thinking back, I remember talking to a DJ from San Francisco, who is a really good DJ (like myself, I hear you think, thanks) who was asking me if I knew any venues in Dublin that might be interested in having him play, as he was doing a tour of Europe, and Ireland was not on the list for some reason. Seeing as he really wanted to check Ireland out, being 1/17th Irish himself, he emailed a few bars & clubs, but didn’t get any replies. What a chump. Wait until I tell him I at least got one reply.
I did well with keeping it short. I couldn’t jilt the blog. At least it kept me busy for a while longer than I anticipated. I’ll mark that time off on the calendar, every minute counts.
