Obligatory Blog Posting. I said I'd do this every day, so I am forcing myself to write SOMETHING, even though I am SO not in the mood.
Rah Rah Rah Rah Rah. My mum called me fat and basically criticised everything about me. And the fucking spellchecker thing put a big fat red underline under "criticised." We are NOT in America and I will NOT put a z in. So there. Maybe I LIKE red underlines. Maybe I will make some more ON PURPOSE. gahihgruighvugughiufghzdhgjdfhgkjfhlsgfjkdlsghfsjkdf HA that is a GIANT RED LINE lookicanevenactuallysaysomethinganditstillgetsabigredunderline except of course YOU won't be able to see the red lines because they only come up in MY version. I feel so privileged. Oor IIii culd juzt spel evrything rong nd evry wurd getz underlyned nd ohh woww thiz iz aa wayste ov yourr tyme nd myne. Obliggatory blogg possting ovah.
Er, edit/afterthought: Yesterday's blog still applies. I am not a crazy bipolar mood swinging emo kid or something. I still love life. I just don't love Today.
Life is good. It's far from perfect, but I'm perfectly happy anyway, because it is infinitely better than it has been. For that I am grateful. To whom I am not sure, but I am grateful nonetheless...
Everything always works out in the end. It often seems like it's not going to, but it has to, doesn't it? It doesn't really have any other choice. Or should I say, everything that is bad always comes to an end - even if it is death that causes that end. What I am trying to say is that nothing lasts forever (even cold November rain? Or, in the recent case, June rain? Or was it May rain? I can't remember, and it doesn't matter anyway. My washing dried in the end.)
I feel like Twitter is my secret life. Very few of my real-life friends follow me on Twitter, because very few of my real-life friends HAVE Twitter. I feel like I can just say anything, and no one will ever know. I can talk about my friends, and they'll never see it. It's rather liberating.
So I'm wondering whether I should make this blog part of my real life, or part of my Secret Other Life. Though I'm thinking how many of my real life friends would actually read this, and the answer is probably about 3, sporadically. I can't really imagine ANYONE following it religiously, friend or not. Except maybe my Mum. OK there's my answer: If I share it with people on Facebook, my mum will start reading it, and that's probably not advisable. Done deal, this blog is SECRET. Coz that's TOTALLY the point of having a blog.... meh.
Meanwhile, I'm about halfway through American Gods. Love it. Looking forward to reading moar tonight. I really shouldn't be allowed to read books. I just like it waaaayyyy too much.. Once I start reading a book (well a good book), I don't want to do ANYTHING ELSE until I am finished. I resent having to sleep, eat, socialise, go to the toilet... basically do anything except read. American Gods has most certainly had that effect on me.
Today I saw a Monarch butterfly sitting on the side of the road. I prodded it, and it flapped its wings pathetically a little, but wouldn't move. I expect it died soon after. It's funny how everyone finds butterflies so wonderful and pretty just because of these glorious wings that they have. They seem to forget that underneath the splendour, butterflies are actually just a gross creepy crawly like all the others. If cockroaches had pretty wings, would we admire them and paint them on mugs?
This morning I received a text message that just said: "phuckn bang!" There's a story behind that, but I can't remember it, so I won't attempt to tell it. (If I had kept a journal or a blog during high school I might be able to go and look back and see where we got this expression from and what we used it for, but I didn't, so that part of my life is lost forever now.) Anyway, that's not the point. The point is Sxip Shirey. And the perfect way to describe Sxip is: PHUCKIN' BANG!!!!
I'm pretty sure anyone who is actually reading this (if anyone reads it at all, which is somewhat doubtful) will already know who Sxip Shirey is. But just in case someone is reading, and doesn't know, let me tell you. He is a musician and a performer. He has hair like Einstein (it even has its own Twitter account, @sxipshireyshair) and makes music by somewhat unorthodox methods such as rolling marbles round bowls. He can also make some wicked WHOOSH sounds.
Sxip worked his way into my life gradually. First he was That Guy With The Large Hair In Amanda Palmer's Photos And Webcasts. Then I started following him on Twitter, mainly because he seemed to have a lot to do with Amanda Palmer and, well, Amanda Palmer Is Life. I thought he looked like a good sort, you know, all alternative and shit. But I hadn't heard any of his music until he posted a link to his "I Live In New York City" video on Twitter. I don't really know how to put videos on this thing yet as I am not much of a computer genius, but I will try anyway.
IT WAS LOVE. I was mesmerised. I played the video over and over, for about 3 hours. No exaggeration. Wow. My favourite part is at the start when he is dancing on the stage. I'm not usually all that into watching videos, but I made an exception for this. Then I went and watched some other videos of him too, and continued to be more and more amazed. I don't know why I didn't look him up EARLIER. I should have known that anyone who plays with Evelyn Evelyn would be strunge and cruzy and all kinds of awesome and basically just PHUCKIN' BANG! I posted it to Facebook. People "liked" it. I showed friends. They all thought it was great. I continued to play the video over and over and over....
The moment Sonic New York was released on Bandcamp, I purchased the shit out of it. No seriously, ACTUALLY the moment it was up. Like, the first version I got was missing some tracks - I must have downloaded it while it was still in the process of being put up or something. So I had to do the whole thing again. And, WOW. It did NOT disappoint. Just like I'm not normally one to watch videos, I'm also not normally one to listen to an entire album from start to finish. I usually like to mix things up on shuffle and whatnot. But THIS album not only needs to be played as a whole to achieve its maximum concept album potential, but it DESERVES it. Once you hear one song, you feel like you HAVE to hear the next one. Skip Sxip? I think not! Not even for AFP.
I'm a bit sad I didn't get a hard copy of the album. Maybe one day. But I'm pretty sure I'm not going to be able to go out and buy it from The Warehouse, and everything takes SO DAMN LONG to ship to NZ! Not to mention costs a fortune. I recently purchased one of the Evelyn Evelyn pre-order packages, and it wasn't cheap, but bloody hell the shipping cost just about as much as the actual product. I'm not here to complain about the price of postage though. Word on the street is that the album art is bloody beautiful. Maybe one day I'll own it.
I don't have any of Sxip's other albums. He promised me he was going to put them up on Bandcamp, but they're not there yet, so maybe I'll have to pursue alternative methods of purchasing. Yes, I am an avid supporter of Bandcamp. I think it's just great. I mean, look, I can do THIS:
(This is my favourite song on the album. After I Live in NYC of course. NOTHING can beat that.)
I can't explain WHY I love Sxip so much. I mean, honestly. Some of the influences he incorporates into his music are things that I can only describe as "not really my scene eh." Hip-hop? Soul? Rap? Beatboxing? But add Sxip's magical touch, and it's one massive eargasm! His tunes are SO dangerously catchy.
Oh, and did I mention what a GOOD CUNT he is?! If I tweet at him, he almost ALWAYS replies, even if it's just to say thanks. We're even friends on Facebook. He is absolutely lovely to everyone. Yes, I have a MOUNTAINOUS crush on him.
Conclusion: Sxip Shirey Fucking Dominates My Mother Fucking Nation. Writing this blog has brought to my attention how I actually know very little about him and have not heard much of his music other than Sonic New York. There is so much potential for me to love him EVEN MORE. A dangerous thought. Be afraid, Sxip. I may develop an out-of-control obsession. PHUCKIN' BANG!!!!
So here I am, making a blog, because everyone else has one and I want to conform and shit. I've called it Bob for now because it seems like a nice generic name, suitable for a mainstream activity like blogging. If anyone has any better ideas, please let me know. Also if anyone has any WORSE ideas, let me know. Hell, if anyone reads this at all, let me know! I need your feedback. I thrive on approval.
Maybe this whole blogging thing will be good for me. Apparently it's beneficial to one's mental health to keep a journal, but I've always been an epic failure at that. I think the longest I've ever kept it up is about 2 weeks. It seems kinda pointless writing to yourself, I always thought. Maybe if there's someone else to read it, I'll be more inspired to actually do it. And I can get all my thoughts and feelings OUT, rather than internalising them which can only lead to a bad state of mind. Or so they say!
I think I'll make it my goal to post something every day (well, every day that I have access to the internet, which I'm pretty sure is every day.) Even if it's just one word, or a post saying "today I did nothing." Today I have already exceeded the minimum, so yay, I deserve a lollipop! Oooh, I should totally have a star chart for blogging. And I get rewards for achieving blogging goals, and punishments for not achieving. Star charts work really well! My flatmate and I have one for exercise. I would put a photo of it up, but I'm not at the flat so I won't because I can't. Anyway, we have to do a minimum of three exercise sessions together each week, and if we don't make that then the other flatties get to choose a punishment for us. It generally motivates us to actually get out and go for runs. Except the one time we failed, we just kinda avoided punishment and made up excuses, like that we had been reallly good the previous month and that it was impossible to go outside when it was pouring non-stop for one week. Seriously though, it was. The moral of the story is that star charts may not be perfect but they are better than not having a star chart.
