Not Addictive, MY ASS
Sunday night, I finished the last of a 2L bottle of diet coke. It was around ten pm or so, and I threw on some shoes to head down to the corner store to pick up a new bottle. I stopped at the door, looked at myself in the mirror that I hang my keys on, and said, "Why the hell am I doing this?"
I decided, then and there, to cut out the diet coke in my life. Kind of a late new year's resolution. In hindsight, though, it was kind of a weak resolution - sort of like a heroin addict saying "you know what? I'm never gonna do smack again!" when the the needle is still sticking out of his arm.
Yes. I just compared diet coke to heroin. I'm not sure why.
My abstinence from diet coke lasted all of twelve hours, when, on monday afternoon, I had the worst withdrawal headache of all time. My brain was pounding to a beat only it could hear, saying to me "you're an asshole, I'm niccing out, gimme some diet coke!"
My brain was a junkie needing its fix.
I caved, consciously bought a can (not a bottle, and how sad is it that this reduction seemed like a triumph to me?), and smiled contentedly as I drank. The headache disappeared. As I finished it, I looked at it and said "you're the last can I'll ever drink."
Ha, right.
Tuesday rolls around, and I'm doing pretty well on my vow - almost twenty four hours since I've touched the stuff. And then, somehow, I wind up in a corner store, handing over money to the cashier for a can. And I have no idea how I wound up here, and I don't even realize I'm trying to quit until I'm already halfway through the can. Yes - buying diet coke has become such a common part of my life that my brain often doesn't process doing it anymore.
This is common to chain smokers. Guess you didn't know it's also common to diet coke addicts, eh? Which leads me to a conclusion of sorts, a sure-fire way to finally quit.
I'm thinking of taking up smoking.... at least until I'm weaned off the diet coke.
I decided, then and there, to cut out the diet coke in my life. Kind of a late new year's resolution. In hindsight, though, it was kind of a weak resolution - sort of like a heroin addict saying "you know what? I'm never gonna do smack again!" when the the needle is still sticking out of his arm.
Yes. I just compared diet coke to heroin. I'm not sure why.
My abstinence from diet coke lasted all of twelve hours, when, on monday afternoon, I had the worst withdrawal headache of all time. My brain was pounding to a beat only it could hear, saying to me "you're an asshole, I'm niccing out, gimme some diet coke!"
My brain was a junkie needing its fix.
I caved, consciously bought a can (not a bottle, and how sad is it that this reduction seemed like a triumph to me?), and smiled contentedly as I drank. The headache disappeared. As I finished it, I looked at it and said "you're the last can I'll ever drink."
Ha, right.
Tuesday rolls around, and I'm doing pretty well on my vow - almost twenty four hours since I've touched the stuff. And then, somehow, I wind up in a corner store, handing over money to the cashier for a can. And I have no idea how I wound up here, and I don't even realize I'm trying to quit until I'm already halfway through the can. Yes - buying diet coke has become such a common part of my life that my brain often doesn't process doing it anymore.
This is common to chain smokers. Guess you didn't know it's also common to diet coke addicts, eh? Which leads me to a conclusion of sorts, a sure-fire way to finally quit.
I'm thinking of taking up smoking.... at least until I'm weaned off the diet coke.
I'm not very good at meeting new people...
Last night, I said to myself "I'm tired of sitting at home, I want to go out and do something". So, I went to my friend's Swing Dancing night, held every Saturday. I've learned a bit of dancing (not much), and I knew it'd be a halfway decent way to meet some new people.
Oh, I met some new people. And promptly proceeded to show them my best trick - putting my foot in my mouth.
Within an hour of showing up, I was at a table, talking about anthropology with a rather cute woman. She seemed interested, and we were having a good conversation. It was intelligent, insightful, and all that fun stuff.
And then, somehow, I started talking about how both chimps and humans use sex as a form of social glue, how the male penis is a deliberately inefficient design, why humans are one of the few species that have face-to-face copulation, and all sorts of other things along that line.
Yes. I actually said to a woman I barely know that the male penis is inefficient. Probably the world's worse pickup line, eh?
Don't get me wrong. I think, from a cultural perspective, that this stuff is fascinating, and I believe many people would agree with me. However, it's probably a bad conversation topic with someone you barely know. If I wanted to talk anthropology, why not talk about tool use? The development of language? Hell, the importance of dance? All valid topics. But instead, I have to zero in on inefficient penises (penii?)
Like I said in the title, I suck at meeting new people. I have a few theories why.
Oh, I met some new people. And promptly proceeded to show them my best trick - putting my foot in my mouth.
Within an hour of showing up, I was at a table, talking about anthropology with a rather cute woman. She seemed interested, and we were having a good conversation. It was intelligent, insightful, and all that fun stuff.
And then, somehow, I started talking about how both chimps and humans use sex as a form of social glue, how the male penis is a deliberately inefficient design, why humans are one of the few species that have face-to-face copulation, and all sorts of other things along that line.
Yes. I actually said to a woman I barely know that the male penis is inefficient. Probably the world's worse pickup line, eh?
Don't get me wrong. I think, from a cultural perspective, that this stuff is fascinating, and I believe many people would agree with me. However, it's probably a bad conversation topic with someone you barely know. If I wanted to talk anthropology, why not talk about tool use? The development of language? Hell, the importance of dance? All valid topics. But instead, I have to zero in on inefficient penises (penii?)
Like I said in the title, I suck at meeting new people. I have a few theories why.
More lyrics?
Okay, I realize I've been a little overboard with lyrics lately. It's almost like this is turning into some sort of music blog or something.
Oh, yeah. Right.
But I really don't wanna be one of those guys who just posts depressing lyrics every few days and expects his few readers to absorb those lyrics with rapt attention. I mean, geez - I'm pretty sure you guys can do that for yourself. The internet is a vast place, and those lyrics do exist elsewhere, and I think it's safe to assume that you can, in fact, read. And even if you cannot, you can still absorb lyrics the good ol' fashioned way (god forbid).
But sometimes, I get into lyric-posting moods. Some may say it's writer's block. I say it's because I've been playing a lot of guitar lately, and have taken a stab at writing songs lately. And mostly, they're atrocious.
So I've been listening to a lot of lyrics, hearing what people say, and then saying to myself "Shit, I feel exactly that. Why can't I write that?" And then I write a song called "breakfast for dinner" about making myself an omelette at 5 pm, and stare in despair upon the paper and contemplate dancing in traffic.
But there's a good side about absorbing lyrics - you come across some great ones, and it helps you realize what to look for in your own lyrical writings. Today, I found a perfect example of this. I was listening to The Fleet Foxes' Helplessness Blues. Really, the lyrics blew me away - particularly the first half. The first half of this song, especially the bit about snowflakes and cogs in the machine, sum up my world view pretty nicely.
Okay, so the last bit, about the orchard, is a bit too hippy for me. But whatever. The first bit is perfect.
And now, so you have an idea what the hell I'm talking about:
i was raised believing
i was somehow unique
like a snowflake distinct among snowflakes
unique in each way you can see
and now after some thinking
i'd say i'd rather be
a functioning cog in some great machinery
serving something beyond me
but i don't i don't know what that will be.
i'll get back to you someday
soon you will see
what's my name
what's my station
oh just tell me what i should do
i don't need to be kind to the armies of night
that would do such injustice to you.
or bow down and be grateful
and say "sure take all that you see"
to the men who move only in dimly lit halls
and determine my future for me.
and i don't i don't know who to believe
i'll get back to you someday
soon you will see.
if i know only one thing
it's that everything that i see
of the world outside is so inconceivable
often i barely can speak
yeah i'm tongue tied and dizzy
and i can't keep it to myself
what good is it to sing helplessness blues
why should i wait for anyone else?
and i know i know you will keep me on the shelf
i'll come back to you someday
soon myself.
if i had an orchard
i'd work 'till i'm raw.
if i had an orchard
i'd work 'till i'm sore.
and you would wait tables
and soon run the store
gold hair in the sunlight
my light in the dawn
if i had an orchard
i'd work till i'm sore
if i had an orchard
i'd work till i'm sore
someday i'll be
like the man on the screen
Oh, yeah. Right.
But I really don't wanna be one of those guys who just posts depressing lyrics every few days and expects his few readers to absorb those lyrics with rapt attention. I mean, geez - I'm pretty sure you guys can do that for yourself. The internet is a vast place, and those lyrics do exist elsewhere, and I think it's safe to assume that you can, in fact, read. And even if you cannot, you can still absorb lyrics the good ol' fashioned way (god forbid).
But sometimes, I get into lyric-posting moods. Some may say it's writer's block. I say it's because I've been playing a lot of guitar lately, and have taken a stab at writing songs lately. And mostly, they're atrocious.
So I've been listening to a lot of lyrics, hearing what people say, and then saying to myself "Shit, I feel exactly that. Why can't I write that?" And then I write a song called "breakfast for dinner" about making myself an omelette at 5 pm, and stare in despair upon the paper and contemplate dancing in traffic.
But there's a good side about absorbing lyrics - you come across some great ones, and it helps you realize what to look for in your own lyrical writings. Today, I found a perfect example of this. I was listening to The Fleet Foxes' Helplessness Blues. Really, the lyrics blew me away - particularly the first half. The first half of this song, especially the bit about snowflakes and cogs in the machine, sum up my world view pretty nicely.
Okay, so the last bit, about the orchard, is a bit too hippy for me. But whatever. The first bit is perfect.
And now, so you have an idea what the hell I'm talking about:
i was raised believing
i was somehow unique
like a snowflake distinct among snowflakes
unique in each way you can see
and now after some thinking
i'd say i'd rather be
a functioning cog in some great machinery
serving something beyond me
but i don't i don't know what that will be.
i'll get back to you someday
soon you will see
what's my name
what's my station
oh just tell me what i should do
i don't need to be kind to the armies of night
that would do such injustice to you.
or bow down and be grateful
and say "sure take all that you see"
to the men who move only in dimly lit halls
and determine my future for me.
and i don't i don't know who to believe
i'll get back to you someday
soon you will see.
if i know only one thing
it's that everything that i see
of the world outside is so inconceivable
often i barely can speak
yeah i'm tongue tied and dizzy
and i can't keep it to myself
what good is it to sing helplessness blues
why should i wait for anyone else?
and i know i know you will keep me on the shelf
i'll come back to you someday
soon myself.
if i had an orchard
i'd work 'till i'm raw.
if i had an orchard
i'd work 'till i'm sore.
and you would wait tables
and soon run the store
gold hair in the sunlight
my light in the dawn
if i had an orchard
i'd work till i'm sore
if i had an orchard
i'd work till i'm sore
someday i'll be
like the man on the screen
My pick me up music
Sometimes, I find myself in a bit of a funk. Nothing necessarily bad has happened, but for some reason, I just find myself with a rather heavy case of "blah". And, minus a rather enjoyable saturday night hanging out with Happy Apple, it's definitely been a "blah" heavy weekend.
As a music nerd, it's probably to be expected that I like to play music to blast me out of the funk. I'm sure most people would gravitate towards incredibly cheerful music when they're feeling down... but I'm not most people. Instead, I tend to play super depressing music - radiohead, old school blues, and sombre Johnny Cash tunes. You'd think this music would destroy me, but it always helps boil away the blahs.
This weekend, I've dusted off some of my go-to songs for "blah" weekends, and I figure I'll share some of them (as well as the downer lyrics) with you guys. Enjoy!
Do You Realize? the flaming lips
This song has been on almost constant repeat all weekend. I have no idea why it picks me up, because the lyrics are kind of a downer, but they really make me smile.
do you realize that you have the most beautiful face
do you realize we're floating in space
do you realize that happiness makes you cry
do you realize that everyone you know someday will die
and instead of saying all of your goodbyes
let them know you realize that life goes fast
it's hard to make the good things last
you realize the sun don't go down
it's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round
do you realize
do you realize that everyone you know someday will die
and instead of saying all of your goodbyes
let them know you realize that life goes fast
it's hard to make the good things last
you realize the sun don't go down
it's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round
do you realize that you have the most beautiful face
do you realize?
Chill Out, ze frank
I also wish I could find a way to legally purchase this song, too. The story is pretty sweet, too - a woman wrote Ze Frank saying she felt alone and stressed, and he penned the song. Then he got something like a couple dozen people to sing the chorus ("hey, you're okay, you'll be fine, just breathe"). He sent it to her, and well, there's a reason Ze Frank is the man.
right now it feels like i forgot to turn the light on
and things that looked so good yet sturdy are now shades of gray
and it seems like the world is spinning while I'm standing still
or maybe I am spinning I can't tell
and then you say hey, you're okay, you'll be fine, just breathe
and now the women sing hey, you're okay, you'll be fine, just breathe
now everybody sings hey, you're okay, you'll be fine, just breathe
hey you're okay you'll be fine, just breathe
hey, you're okay, you'll be fine, just breathe
Dinu Lipatti's Bones, the mountain goats
And then there's The Mountain Goats. The most depressing band on the face of the earth (and I use the term "band" loosely, as 'they' consist of just one guy). However, I guess for me, there's just something about depressing music that makes me happy. My mother always said I listened to music you could hang yourself to. I guess this song is a case in point, eh?
we stank of hair dye and ammonia
we sealed ourselves away from view
you were looking at the void and seldom blinking
the best that I could do
was to train my eyes on you
we scaled the hidden hills beneath the surface
scraped our fingers bloody on the stones
and built a little house that we could live in
out of dinu lipatti's bones
we kept our friends at bay all summer long
treated the days as though they'd kill us if they could
wringing out the hours like blood drenched bedsheets
to keep winter time at bay
but december showed up anyway
there was no money it was money that you wanted
i went downtown sold off most of what i owned
and we raised a tower to broadcast all our dark dreams
from dinu lipatti's bones
So, that's my list. What's your list of pick me ups? Is it half as bleak as mine?
As a music nerd, it's probably to be expected that I like to play music to blast me out of the funk. I'm sure most people would gravitate towards incredibly cheerful music when they're feeling down... but I'm not most people. Instead, I tend to play super depressing music - radiohead, old school blues, and sombre Johnny Cash tunes. You'd think this music would destroy me, but it always helps boil away the blahs.
This weekend, I've dusted off some of my go-to songs for "blah" weekends, and I figure I'll share some of them (as well as the downer lyrics) with you guys. Enjoy!
Do You Realize? the flaming lips
This song has been on almost constant repeat all weekend. I have no idea why it picks me up, because the lyrics are kind of a downer, but they really make me smile.
do you realize that you have the most beautiful face
do you realize we're floating in space
do you realize that happiness makes you cry
do you realize that everyone you know someday will die
and instead of saying all of your goodbyes
let them know you realize that life goes fast
it's hard to make the good things last
you realize the sun don't go down
it's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round
do you realize
do you realize that everyone you know someday will die
and instead of saying all of your goodbyes
let them know you realize that life goes fast
it's hard to make the good things last
you realize the sun don't go down
it's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round
do you realize that you have the most beautiful face
do you realize?
Chill Out, ze frank
I also wish I could find a way to legally purchase this song, too. The story is pretty sweet, too - a woman wrote Ze Frank saying she felt alone and stressed, and he penned the song. Then he got something like a couple dozen people to sing the chorus ("hey, you're okay, you'll be fine, just breathe"). He sent it to her, and well, there's a reason Ze Frank is the man.
right now it feels like i forgot to turn the light on
and things that looked so good yet sturdy are now shades of gray
and it seems like the world is spinning while I'm standing still
or maybe I am spinning I can't tell
and then you say hey, you're okay, you'll be fine, just breathe
and now the women sing hey, you're okay, you'll be fine, just breathe
now everybody sings hey, you're okay, you'll be fine, just breathe
hey you're okay you'll be fine, just breathe
hey, you're okay, you'll be fine, just breathe
Dinu Lipatti's Bones, the mountain goats
And then there's The Mountain Goats. The most depressing band on the face of the earth (and I use the term "band" loosely, as 'they' consist of just one guy). However, I guess for me, there's just something about depressing music that makes me happy. My mother always said I listened to music you could hang yourself to. I guess this song is a case in point, eh?
we stank of hair dye and ammonia
we sealed ourselves away from view
you were looking at the void and seldom blinking
the best that I could do
was to train my eyes on you
we scaled the hidden hills beneath the surface
scraped our fingers bloody on the stones
and built a little house that we could live in
out of dinu lipatti's bones
we kept our friends at bay all summer long
treated the days as though they'd kill us if they could
wringing out the hours like blood drenched bedsheets
to keep winter time at bay
but december showed up anyway
there was no money it was money that you wanted
i went downtown sold off most of what i owned
and we raised a tower to broadcast all our dark dreams
from dinu lipatti's bones
So, that's my list. What's your list of pick me ups? Is it half as bleak as mine?
I have a new, foolproof way to pick up women at clubs:
DAVE: Hey baby, come here often?
GIRL: Um. Ew. Do me a favour - get a time machine and go back about thirty years, when that line was only "really old".
DAVE: Ha ha. Kitty's got claws. Don't act like you can resist my charms, baby. What's your sign?
GIRL: Please don't call me 'baby' again. I think I threw up a little.
DAVE: You know you like it, baby-doll.
GIRL: I said don't call me-
DAVE: I said "baby-doll", not baby. See, I'm sensitive to your needs and shit, baby.... doll.
GIRL: Just, um, go away. I don't want... anything.... wait, what's happening to me?
DAVE: I'm wearing a suit.
GIRL: But that's not... so... irresistable... what's... going.... on?
DAVE: It's not just a suit. I also have a shiny tie.
GIRL: But, but...
DAVE: And club girls, like common magpies, are unable to resist shiny objects.
GIRL: Helpless... to... fight.....
DAVE: So, do you like my suit? Baby?
GIRL: Um. Ew. Do me a favour - get a time machine and go back about thirty years, when that line was only "really old".
DAVE: Ha ha. Kitty's got claws. Don't act like you can resist my charms, baby. What's your sign?
GIRL: Please don't call me 'baby' again. I think I threw up a little.
DAVE: You know you like it, baby-doll.
GIRL: I said don't call me-
DAVE: I said "baby-doll", not baby. See, I'm sensitive to your needs and shit, baby.... doll.
GIRL: Just, um, go away. I don't want... anything.... wait, what's happening to me?
DAVE: I'm wearing a suit.
GIRL: But that's not... so... irresistable... what's... going.... on?
DAVE: It's not just a suit. I also have a shiny tie.
GIRL: But, but...
DAVE: And club girls, like common magpies, are unable to resist shiny objects.
GIRL: Helpless... to... fight.....
DAVE: So, do you like my suit? Baby?
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