Wrecking My Head, Lad!

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Who is it that wrecks your head the most? The most annoying person you know? Someone who can drive you mental, without even doing much? For a few readers, it just might be the exact same person that wrecks mine the most. I figured it out today… me, myself and I. Very few people can close to the amount of inner turmoil I bestow onto myself. It is a tremendous hoot! 

For the past couple of days, my head has been wrecked for some reason. Today, I spent the first half of the day, trying to figure out exactly what it was, that was wrecking my head so much. Try as I might, I could not remember why. When I tried to think hard and just figure out what it might be, again, a blank was drawn. It started to freak me out that neither remembering why, or being able to work out why, brought me the answer. Why did I have the feeling of doom? Freaked. Freaked even more about the fact I couldn’t figure out why I was so freaked. Freak.

Was it the fact, that over the past few days, a good few people back in L-Hey were telling me to get back for the 4th of July festivities that would be going on? Roof-top pool party here, beach party there, after party somewhere. Nay, wasn’t their fault. Or what I might be missing out on. Plenty of the time for all that. Or the fact that I am back in Ireland. The whole “freaked to be back, I’d say” having been dealt with and all that. That wasn’t the issue.

Was it the fact, that I take the route of “no news is bad news”? I decided a while back, that if good news of some sort was to show up, and look promising, I would not jump the gun and get ahead of myself. Seemingly, this results in me getting more freaked, the more good news I might get. This week, progress has been made on a few different fronts. On paper, its been a good week. (Although, maybe the fact it is not on paper is the problem, ha).

However, patience and things take time, are still two troublesome areas I am dealing with. Never mind the simple fact that it is the weekend. The time when people usually chill out. Leave the emails off. Stay away from getting back to an annoying idiot knocking on their door. That can wait until after the weekend. Unfortunately, I like to blatantly ignore this logic. Illogical, irrational thinking all the way! Was this a reason for my head being wrecked? Emm…

Was it a hangover wrecking my head? Tried to blame that, along with drink, but actually blaming those two things was just passing the buck. Only one person to blame for that… myself. Getting double booked for a DJ gig, cut loose, then not using that freed up time to re-write a script I have to do? Again, my fault for doing nothing. A pattern was developing. I slowly saw the light. The reason my head was being wrecked? Not really a what, but a who. My own fault.

Most head wrecking part of all, was the simple ease of how I sorted myself out. Went to the gym. Came home. Had a shave. And I was fine again. Ha, some ape. That was it. My head was (and is) no longer wrecked. I could’ve done that yesterday. Head wrecking enough. 

Some songs, to fix your head, after bearing with all that venting…


Heartbreaker (ft. John Legend) - MSTRKRFT


Warm Heart Of Africa

Warm Heart Of Africa (ft. Ezra Koenig) - The Very Best

Don’t I Know You…?


Sometimes, it is true, it can pay to be lazy. And here is why it paid for me today. Woke up this morning, washed my face, brushed my teeth, combed my hair and proceeded on with my morning rituals. However, this morning I was too lazy to stand for the final part of the ritual, and instead sat down. This was key! As I sat down, my mind was allowed to wander off, and I ended up coming up with 3 full outlines for 3 episodes of the sitcom I am planning on writing next week. Which is more than my brain has offered in about the last week or two alone, so it was big. Thankfully, I had my notepad and pen handy, so now “Who’s Your Paddy?”, “Seeing Stars” and “Forgive Me Father” have been outlined! A mighty day!!! (If you have been reading the blog, you might be able to piece them together. If not, tut tut, get reading).

In case I have not made it too clear, seeing as every man needs my plan, I have a new plan. That is, go to San Francisco next week, stay with my cousin, get productive, and write my sitcom pilot at least. Then, come back to L.A, pilot in hand, and get at least a scene made to have a visual to accompany the reading material. A mighty plan that only took me about a week or two to finally decide on. I would be moving out of my current abode, but not to worry, I found a place two streets over from here that is good to go, wuu. And, BAFTA have been contacted, my link in there told me I am pending at the moment in my application, they want to see progress on the sitcom first. Which is more mighty motivation to get it down and good to go. 

All of this was sorted before lunch. However, lunch itself took a bit of a dip. As I was making a sandwich, a friend (kind of, LA kind anyways) called over for a while with her dog, to talk about random stuff, as she likes to sporadically do now and again. Perfect timing “Oooo, that looks nice, could you make me one?” I’m on the bread line, but couldn’t really say no to a slice or two of bread and some turkey, sure, no problem, my last two slices, I can’t say no now, you see I have at least two left, balls. “Oooo, put some of that on it. Oooo put a tomato on it too. Oooo and some of that, make it up big just like yours.” Which was fine, my sandwich was appealing looking, I couldn’t blame her. Well, fine until I gave it to her, she took a bite of it, then started rambling on, about God only knows what, and feeding the majority of the sandwich to her dog! I zoned out fully, just watching the dog mock me as he ate my bread and food, licking parts of it and then not eating it, just so no one else could eat it. Her dog could sense I am on the bread line, the way he was toying with my bread to the fullest, then spitting it out to rub it in. They will not be let in from now on, I will tell you that much!

After lunch, I manage to resume back to slowly but surely sorting stuff out. A friend who DJ’s and promotes wants me to make a demo to give to a new club that is opening in Hollywood (although I have already been there?) It would be savage to get that gig. Especially seeing as I am DJ’ing all of 3 weeks. Better make a savage demo! I was also informed that my gig on Thursday would be paid, pending. Pending it goes well. Otherwise, I will just be playing music and given a bar tab of maybe $100 – $150, for food or drink on the night. So, the first DJ stint I got, pays me through free gym membership, and the second one pays me, basically, with free booze. At least that anyways. Balances out well really I suppose. Half thinking of going to the local Trader Joe’s offering to DJ in exchange for food. I will be fully equipped in my bartering ways then – food, drink and gym!

I’ll finish up with a story of why it is sometimes better not to recognize someone out loud. And how it can be strange seeing someone outside of where they work. Earlier on I was in a supermarket near my house, re-stocking up on bread if my memory serves me right. Anyways, there are two queues, side by side. I am in one, dawdling away, swinging around, bored. I notice a girl in the queue next to me, and I recognize her face from somewhere, I know her. However, I have no clue from where, but the feeling I saw her on some night out starts to become apparent in my head. Still no clue where though, so I squint a bit more to dig deep and find the memory.

We’re almost parallel in the queues, I am trying not to gawk at her to remember, when I see she notices me too, and the look of her recognizing me dawns across her face. She turns away slightly, as if embarrassed, I look even more as I feel the swell of drunken flashbacks coming from somewhere but which then die down. We catch each others looks again, so I just ask her, sorry, don’t I know you from somewhere? She tells me “I’m not sure, you do look familiar though, where am you from?” The minute I say Ireland, I can see a look of knowledge sweep across her face, then she pulls back. This triggers me off, I know now! The, eh, dancing club at the top of my street!

Cue a bit of embarrassment by her, maybe she doesn’t know me actually, she now claims, maybe not. You do, I tell her, I met you on Saturday, you work in the club, don’t you? Yes, she does, that was it, what’s your name again, oh yeah, thats it! (Lets call her Jane). At this point Jane introduces me to her friend John, also in the queue (it was a long queue by the way, ha). So, my memories are flooding in, she says she does remember me now, didn’t she serve me a drink, yeah, that was it. My memory is flying at this stage, oh no you didn’t, I gave you a dance, thats how I know you! Your friend, or work mate, was the other girl who tried to drag me away! You do look a bit different now, however I suppose we are in a different climate and surroundings, you’re not in your work clothes this time, true true, and also the fact that I’m not the only one wearing clothes this time around.

My final memory was that she had given me her number, to call her some time. Reasons I didn’t were two fold – forgot she had even given me her number, and it is pointless getting numbers off girls here, as my past experiences have highlighted. However, I feel I should make an excuse for not texting, so I say sorry about that, I was going to text, but eh, I had a busy few days sitting on my toilet writing my sitcom. She gives me an inquisitive look, I didn’t give you my number kind of look, shut up look. I, on the other hand, think she doesn’t remember, remind her that she did give me her digits, telling me to text or call her some time.

At this point she makes it quite clear that she definitely didn’t give me her number, this was her boyfriend John, I must have gotten her mixed up with another girl. I look to the ceiling and quickly re-jog my memories, then cop on what she was telling me. Oh right. Well, no it was definitely you, but, eh, anyways, I’ll be off, nice seeing you again, good meeting you John, ciao ciao.

At least, once again, it proves my point, the point which I have been making from day one, and which we all know rings true every day. And that is… ehh… when you’re on the bread line, don’t literally give away your last two slices of bread.

Song of this fine day is… Woman (MSTRKRFT Remix) by Wolfmother