So this week,

This time next week i shall hopefully be lying down after patting myself on the back after a good gig.

Im hosting an acoustic night and they've asked me to be funny, too. Of course im taking my guitar and im going to sing some of my daft/shit/fucking-hilarious songs. I've written and prepared material, too. It's all performance stuff which requires some sort of acting to pull off. Im not sure it'll work but i won't know until i try. Im very busy all week so i can't try the stuff out at an open mic that's relatively nearby, either.

Earlier the event organizer plugged the show on my facebook on my behalf. It made me laugh to be honest. I've been worrying a little too much to ask my friends to go. I don't need to now.
My main problem is nerves. I think i'll always get nervous. And when im nervous I can get robotic which needs mending. I need to flow like a stream ice-cold water on a buttered river bed.

So this week, i'll mostly be practicing my bits and my bobs. My talkie bits and my songs. Also i hope to prepare things to ad-lib which defeats the object i know but i want to be cool, like that water flowing over the buttered river bed.

What's becoming a pain in my arse is (not piles, yet) the fact that all my weird, cooky, useful, fun ideas come at roughly 2am. I can't not write them down straight away, either, or i will lose them. It seems that when i want to sleep, my mind flows like cold, cold water over a buttered river bed.

Now my insecurities have been addressed I want some toast. Buttered. In bed. A water bed.

School Play.

My niece is currently crying after watching a video of her school play. She says it’s because she’ll never get to sing the songs again.

When did five year olds get so passionate?

I’ve wanted to write about my nieces play since i saw it on wednesday. Only now i’ve had the oomph to attempt it. I’ve been very tired. boo hoo for me.

Primary school plays are not very popular with people my age. Unless they’re parents which is actually a higher number than i originally thought. (right now i feel old and awesome). I wasn’t expecting the play to be anything brilliant. I was expecting to feel proud of my awesome niece doing her bit and laughing at the little ones for mainly being cute. I also expected a nativity play being as it’s the christmas season.

It wasn’t a christmas play. It was a play that paid tribute the the school itself.

Backstory: My niece’s school, Llwyncelyn, is the first welsh speaking school based in the Rhondda Fach, where i live. My brother and sister went there. I, coming 10 years later, went to the second welsh speaking school which isn’t as good but i loved it there and this sentence isn’t important.

The school is 61 years old this year and the play showed the growth from start to present day. It commented on the community’s attitude towards welsh speakers and welsh speaking schools. At first it wasn’t good. It only had 13 pupils. 61 years later it has over 300.

It also commented on the friendliness of the parents who did accept the welsh speaking ways. The play was actually bilingual, though mostly welsh. It was very good.

The pupils were obviously the actors, depicting the typical scenes you’d get in a school in a brilliant form of observational comedy. The songs were actually quite clever and very catchy (which helps if kids have to sing them).

Even though the writing was very good and told a very good story effectively, the main credit goes to the directors and the kids. There were quite sophisticated jokes worked into the play. Jokes you wouldn’t expect kids to understand. But they did, and performed them very well.

One five year old boy fell over on purpose and actually didn’t hurt himself which a friend of mine could learn from.

All in all it was a success and though i didn’t expect it to be a play about the schools history, the things i did expect did come through.

The little ones were very funny but for more reasons than “mainly being cute”. They were clever and very well organised. And my niece is definitely the awesomest creature in the world and i am stupidly proud of her. 

She’s stopped crying about not being able to sing the songs now.

It terrifies and excites me.

I just had the news that i may have to perform a comedy gig on my own!

I always planned on doing one this year but never got round to it. But now, I may HAVE to do one on friday. I got the news forty five minutes ago at 2:10am and i know im not going to sleep tonight. Im currently (blogging aside) bullet pointing all my ideas and wanting to try them out, knowing i cant as most of them are musical.

I’ll be honest, im excited. November has hit me with a few pleasant surprises and im counting this as another one. Obviously i would rather do the gig along side at least one of my trusted comedy genius friends. It may even turn out that way. But in my head; Right now, Im performing alone and it terrifies and excites me.

Whatever happens i know i’ll enjoy the night. I get to see some old friends and dance along to a band fronted by an old school friend. I also know there’ll be some support for me so if im not funny they’ll do some extra hard laughing to make me feel better.

I know that i will do at least one funny thing. I hope.

More importantly, i get to show off on guitar. Im more comfortable standing behind one of them. That should make me look like less of a victim in front of the audience. On a strange note, im going to tune my guitar to D,A,D,G,A,D, for the heck of it.

Anyway, no more insecure nonsense. Continue to provide yourself with ideas, Daf. Make them good ones.

Tonight's final thought.

The rain outside is silent. It looks quite heavy; like typical drizzle. My favorite fall of rain. And yet, there's no noise from my window alerting me to it.
I've lived in this country all my life. It rains often and i enjoy it. Cleansing and familiar. I love listening to it, walking in it, the wooden smell it sometimes brings. It's never rained without me knowing about it straight away. There are many things to hear when it comes.

• Slapping against your window,
• Trickling down a drain
• You can't bump into a person who doesn't complain about it.

But under the hum of my laptop, i was oblivious to it until just now. So now im putting this machine away, opening my window and letting the tap, tap, tap of rain lull me to sleep.
Goodnight.

A two step guide to quick inspiration

If you ever need inspiration, here’s what to do:

1. Do nothing all day.
2. Try to sleep.

Side effects may include:

• Tiredness
• Mood swings
• Diminishing patience
• Caffeine addiction
• Cocaine addiction
• Insomnia

This guide may not work for you if you are a normal person.

Things to do while you're waiting for a casserole to cook...

1. Nap.
2. Read.
3. Play guitar.
4. Build a robot.
5. Do fifty million press-ups.
6. Get naked.
7. Stay Naked.
8. Ironing.
9. Improvised indoor golf.
10. Use every post it note you have to label each muscle on your body.
11. Sit in front of the oven to watch your casserole while your arse gets cold.
12. Dig out the novelty pair of clogs to walk in and sound like a horse. (Whilst naked)
13. Do a big art attack.
14. Ponder.
15. Sculpting.
16. Pose.
17. Do the safety dance.
18. Sing a little song. Many times.
19. NAKED STAR JUMPS! (Be careful. No slippery floors)
20. Tell the internet.

That coppery smell...

For the past couple of days i’ve picked up my old songbook and played/sang all the songs i’ve written in the past year and a half. There’s not as much as there should be in there but im proud of each composition.

I’d almost forgotten the fun i made out of struggling to find the right words. Singing strong melodies with stupid words in order to make it work. 

Singing them all again has given me a gentle smack in the face for forgetting to write songs out of genuine pleasure. The last 3 songs i’ve written were for a part of a project. Im going to do it more, now. Write songs for the sake of writing songs. To show off, to struggle, to cheer myself, to use my time in a way that’s beneficial to me (even if it’s just on a personal level).

Plus I love the coppery smell on my fingertips after playing my guitar flat-out for an hour.