Contagious happiness.

Yesterday evening i was driving to a friends house. It’s a 40 minute drive so tidy music is helpful. I only have a tape deck at the moment. The two tapes i have are 33 classical hits and The soundtrack to 80’s hit american TV show; Kung fu: The legend continues.

As brill as these tapes are, i’ve played them to death.

So the only option now is for the radio to be on it’s game. I’ll usually go for radio 2 because i am one cultured son of a gun, however, it’s signal died on this journey.

So i started violently channel switching in order to find something suitable. I was in a queue that was looking at some red traffic lights. All of a sudden one of the stations started playing “Moves like Jagger” By Maroon 5. 

A lightning bolt of DANCE struck me. I had the moves like Jagger i think. Or someone young and good at dancing. 

In my satisfied trance i looked out my windows and the car to my left, filled with ladies (well, three of them) were watching me, laughing. As they should. 

I did the only thing i knew to do. SING. At them. They laughed even harder and joined in with the dancing.

And then the light’s turned green and i drove away feeling that the world was ultimately good.

Last night's show

The one i’d been stressing about for about two and a half weeks. ACRE comedy's live show about science! Oh yes.

We performed it last night. It went very well if i do say so myself. My friends are very funny and it came across on stage. I started lacking confidence which is usually the case but it grew through the night. By the end of the first half I had my confidence. Bering on stage with someone else is easier to handle. Also, i got to play my guitar which im better at compared to remembering lines.

Second half came and i started to ride my confidence well. It was an audience participation bit which my friend was managing while i played a little sting and guided the audience, telling them when to “ooh” and “aah”. The participant on stage was, honestly, amazing. Seeing him be such a good sport give me that little extra inspiration. 

We started flowing properly. Faster than we were used to and it felt good. In fact the flow gained so much momentum, my fellow performer, after being introduced by myself, came on as a baffled character. He followed his stage directions (which were to fall over and lose his papers) with such gusto that he landed on his face and lost half a tooth.

We found it, though. It was in his lip.

We wanted to rush it from there but the tooth-lost performer improvised some standup about the missing half-tooth which stalled us for about 10 minutes. We buzzed through our bits after getting him off stage, cleaned him up and, fair play, he came on for the last sketch and danced to the song. (The song was my favorite bit because i wrote it :)

The audience were very polite and i believe that they were definitely entertained.

So instead of drinking and relaxing after the gig, I drove my friend to A&E where i chatted to people in the waiting room. After the doctor told him what he already knew, we got some pain killers and drove home.

The thing i learned is this. You can stress and over prepare for anything and everything. But if a friend looses a tooth during a stage performance it will literally MAKE the night. All you have to be able to do is react well to any situation and things will go well.

From enemy to friend in two laps.

I've had a two day binge of old xbox games which has just come to an end. Im mighty glad i must say. 

Before i started I tidied my room all spick and span as to mildly justify the act of sloth that i was about to perform. (though there was no performance, except for on my TV screen) I will say, the room is still as spick and span. which is a good thing. My boundless inactivity has preserved the integrity of my room.

That one thing and the fact that I was gaming are the only pro’s of the last two days. Oh, and podcasts. Lots of podcasts.

The cons include a throbbing headache on the left side of my head, a sore neck as the Tv’s high in the corner of my room, and a numb mind.

Was it worth it? YES!

All i did in my spare time was look up in the corner of my room and playing a game, whilst laughing at podcasts every now and again. I told myself that not getting up was the “point” and i was sticking to my guns.

There was one time last night where I wanted to get up, though.

While I was cleaning my room I had made an enemy of a previously hidden tenant of my room. A 6-7cm spider (back toe to front toe) who’d set up shop in the corner behind the television. There were too many obstacles between us for me to grab it and maroon it in the unknown beyond my window. Lucky spider.

At about ten-o-clock every night it pops out of it’s little web-hut and creeps around the the room by the roof. It slowly does a lap around the room between 10pm and 2am. I was always completely aware of where this octo-legged monster was at all times when it crept about. However it never veered away from the corner where the wall hits the celling.

Until last night.

Wrex, which is what i decided to name it, did it’s usual lap in it’s anti-clockwise fashion around the room until it hit the curtain. I was always a little more tense when it was above my head as i had to move my neck to look at it when my game took a boring turn. Moving my neck defeated the purpose of my lazy two nights but i was constantly fascinated and an incy-wincy bit nervous.

So it reached the curtain and actually mounted the curtain pole, which wasn’t protocol. By the celling ALWAYS BY THE CELLING! It wasn't listening to my thoughts. No. It was creeping it’s way down the curtain until about half way, when it started getting closer to me. It had previously spun a web connecting the curtain to my guitar case, which it sat on for a while, watching me.

GET OFF MY GUITAR CASE, WREX, YOU MASSIVE, TINY DANCER! I thought. 

Wrex had broken the rules. It had entered my territory which is anything except the high parts of the walls and of course, the celling. This was my chance. I could maroon Wrex, finally.

But it just sat there. Casually watching and scratching it’s nose occasionally. Or at least something that looks like that. Scratching his legs with his fangs or something similar to what a tame animal would do in it’s corner. I couldn’t throw this sweet thing out into the cold unknown. It trusted me!

*Plus, I can’t be bothered to get up during my quickly diminishing hours of gaming. And i’ve got a headache.*

After my contemplation filled stare off with Wrex i decided to leave it be. It soon climbed back up the curtain and back to it’s silk bungalow. 

So now i have a room mate. Wrex the spider. My creepy crawly companion. Someone/something that keeps me company for 4 hours in the night. 

Only be a good thing!

Went out last night. Check me all socializing and stuff. 

It was a welsh music night. There were three bands on, all of which i enjoyed.

I think that if i attended this, say, five or six years ago i wouldn’t have said the same thing. I would’ve enjoyed the night because i am a super, mega, awesome party animal. Obviously. 

When i was younger, all the welsh language music sounded forced or show-ee off-ee. It sounded as if welsh was their second language but they sung in it anyway just to seem clever. It never sounded natural to me. I will say that i had never listened to the super furry animals at that time, or Cerys Matthews, Both of which would’ve opened my eyes a little.

Since listening to the band and artist in the paragraph above, along with my friends japanese language tunage, (also, Jackie Chan’s version of “Ill make a man out of you” from Mulan) i have become far more open minded to stuff like that. Im even enjoying Rammstein now!

My complex’s aside, the three bands i saw last night (rather; two bands and an artist) sounded completely natural singing in welsh language. Their attitude seems less: “look at me im singing in welsh isnt that the tits?” but more: “yeah, im singing in welsh. I enjoy this. Deal with it.“ 

Here’s a video of one of the band’s i enjoyed

I speak welsh and i’m mega proud of it. I bust into it every so often. My friends and i converse quietly in welsh when we want to say something that might upset someone nearby. (reading that back it equates to; My friends and i bitch through the welsh language. Bitching isn’t nice in any language, but it is more fun in a different one.) We also speak welsh to have fun and make each other laugh. Last night it was more difficult because everyone in the room spoke the same language. It was actually quite refreshing. 

I don’t judge welsh people who don’t speak welsh, but i do judge people who don’t see the point of it. To those people i say this: Having the ability to speak an extra language can ONLY BE A GOOD THING!

Iechyd Da, joiwch a diolch!

CARIAD MAWR.

And the heavens opened.

Since the first time i heard that saying as a little tyke it always confused me. 

It’s a saying to explain that it’s raining heavily. The heavens opened and lashed the earth with water. 

Have you ever looked up when it’s raining? And opened your eyes? If you did, all you’d see is clouds. That’s what confused me. It made more sense to think that the heavens were closed when it was raining, barricaded by clouds. Whatever. Im a grown up now and i get that it means that it’s raining because some wordsmith made it up before me. 

I couldn’t resist going out for a walk tonight. The rain was happily splashing against my window, whooshing past at a 45 degree angle. “Can Dafydd come out for a walk?” It beckoned. 

I love walking in the rain. Cleansing is the best word to describe it, i suppose. I like the little things it makes me do. Things like; looking up to catch it in my mouth, shaking off the goose-pimples on my back, squeezing out the water in my hair and eyebrows and making a tune in my head to the beat of my squishing trainers. (Reading back that list makes me feel like im a weirdo :)

I did all them things.

And then the heavens opened. In my childish, sensible sense of the phrase, that is. It had stopped raining for about ten minutes. My legs had worked up a nice rhythm so i didn’t stop walking. I did, however, look up with my eyes wide open.

There was one spot where the clouds opened up to show me a window to space. The only speck of space that i could see on the whole sky’s horizon. It was like a deep and wonderful lake with glistening stars on the surface, surrounded by a beach of clouds. The stars looked so much brighter than usual. I was hypnotised. I couldn’t avert my eyes from my sky-lake.

I just walked while my sense of sight, touch, respiration and hearing were deeply stimulated.

A beautiful view accompanied by the sound of a distant running river and the luxury of completely fresh air. Goose-pimples.

And then i stood in dog shit.

This should change things up a little.

Tomorrow i’ll be driving my first car for the first time. (hip hip hwre)

I passed my test in January. It was my second test. If you ask me i should have passed first time. I was far more confident and i drove with so much more grace but the guy failed me anyway. I wanted to start the engine and drive as fast as i could and collide the passenger side into a building and give him a reason to fail me.  Out of respect for my instructor whose car i would have used to commit manslaughter, i refrained, took it on the chin and plotted a more scathing revenge.

The reason i couldn’t get a car straight away is because i blew my savings gearing up for my second driving test. Paying off officials of the DVLA is expensive but i had to be certain that i’d have the same man to test me again. And i did.

Que. Revenge. During the second test i was completely nervous throughout. I sweated more, I was jittery…. I was nervous. I knew what i had to do and now it came to the crunch i was having difficulty comprehending it. Traveling the world is easy when you look at a map, not realising how big the world really is. I had geared up for this moment and now it seamed impossible. 

“If you can just pull in to the side of the road when it’s clear” He said. Perfect! I needed to calm down and gather myself. “Ok, just pull out when the road is clear.” 

He’s playing with me! Im not going to take this! It’s time to put my plan into action. I looked into the mirrors to ensure a safe departure. It was clear and i pulled out. Past the point of no return i quickly realised that i didn’t indicate. STUPID! Instant minor. That’s it. Pointless worrying now. He’s having the full brunt of the revenge i had lined up for him.

Me: You know, i wasn’t this nervous last time i had my test. 

Him: Oh? 

Me: (thinking: Don’t reassure me then, prick) No, I don’t know what it is. I was completely fine first time. I know i should’ve passed it…… Can’t win em all.

Him: Do you know who took you last time?

I looked at him at a pause. My eyes burned through his ponsy unnecessary shades and i saw nothing but tinted fear. In a swift arm movement I released his seat belt and smiled. “Don’t you remember? You said my emergency stop was USELESS!” As the first syllable of the word “useless” exited my mouth my feet slammed on the brake and clutch. I could hear the noise of the tires screech followed by the sound of a skull shattering against the windscreen. My hearing had cut out and i saw his soulless body fly onto the road in slow motion. There were no cars about. I gathered myself and drove back to the Test Centre, popping his head under a car tyre on the way.

Me: No, can’t say i remember him.

Him: Oh.

Anyway, i passed the test. I didn’t actually arrange to have him again. The conversation in green italics, however, did take place between examiner and I, and it felt great to tell him that i should’ve passed first time.

Seven months later i have a car. It should change things up a little. (I don’t know why i told you that story, just came out as i typed.)

I went to church today...

I attended my friends daughters christening. He just text me to thank me. (It’s a bit late)

This will be the second time in roughly a month and a half that i’ve been to a church. The first was for a funeral of a not so distant relative. The funeral i am going to describe as mega catholic. The christening i am going to describe as mega protestant. 

It was my first christening and it was my first funeral where the service was in a church. 

Say what you want about religion but i’ve found that regularly used churches are beautiful. Im a sucker for traditional looking buildings. Cold, though.

As it was a sunday we had to go through a proper sermon before the actual christening. “Go through” makes it sound grueling, which it wasn’t really.

It felt like i was back in school, sitting next to my friends in a room full of people in an assembly. What i used to do during assemblies was misbehave. 

I really don’t know what came over me, today. I couldn’t help it. As i exited the church i really felt bad about singing “Johnny Christ”, making silly jokes, coaxing my friend to ask the organist for requests to see if she’ll do some Bon Jovi. I really felt bad that my belly was rumbling quite loudly. About incorporating the word “Bubba” into every verse (no one heard that, it was personal entertainment), deliberately saying “amen” after everyone to be the last one to say it. I didn’t feel so bad about singing like David Bowie and Scott Stap (Creed), well, until people laughed at me. Then i felt bad. As i left i shook the hand of the man who gave the sermon and i swear he knew it was all me. (which it wasn’t)

My best excuse is that i was very, very hungry. The truth is that church sermons are taken very seriously. When i’m in the middle of this seriousness i get slightly hysterical and it’s difficult to stop. 

My main problem with the two services i’ve recently attended is God. I have no problem with people believing in God. As long as your nice and sane and easy to live near then believe what you want. You can actually tell me, i wont get offended, i’ll more likely be interested as you could teach me something about things i don’t have.

What was i saying? Oh yes, God in the church.

Im not a regular church goer as you’ve guessed. I went to church because there were services there regarding people who are/were important to me or my family. During the funeral of one of the nicest men you’ll never meet, i listened to the main catholic talker guy (priest?) say next to nothing about the deceased’s life, but how he wanted him to go to heaven. He even said “though we are not worthy of your grace, let our prayers guide him to heaven”. Something along those lines. 

During the christening there was similar talk. A lovely little girl, who was chewing her foot in her mothers arms, was getting told in front of her family and friends that “she was not worthy of God but heres some special water anyway. Don’t sin.” Again, not exactly the words but that’s the message. (she looked hilariously cute when he wiped the water off her head. One little spike of hair in the middle of her head :)

I went to two events to celebrate people and the churches talker-guy said nothing about them.

It seems that no one is going to heaven. Especially if your christian. But they want you to which i suppose is a lovely sentiment.

I think people are just scared of dying so they go through this rigmarole of rituals to make it easier on their minds. I can accept that. Me, i think that death is like being knocked out, but forever. Im also very happy with that thought, mainly because it’s funny to me.

After the christening i watched Hawkings Universe. A smashing documentary. My only problem with it was that it left me wanting to read a heck load of books that i cant afford.