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Having all of last week away from the horrid office workplace environment, I had to go back. I remember back in both primary and secondary school wishing that time would go so much faster. Now that there is no more school there just aren’t enough hours in the day for all the things I want to do.
I spent much of my week attempting to ‘get my life on track’ and be like those extremely organised people - by organising my bookmarks, firefox extensions, feed subscriptions and reading a few productivity websites such as the incredible Lifehacker, Lifehack. These sites always gets me motivated to start organising my normally very disorganised computer/hard drive/file system.
This problem stems from the fact that I have a few too many interests. Of course, having lots of interests isn’t a bad thing, it’s just finding the time to pursue each one that causes the problem. Photography, music, science, psychology, business, travel, chichés, programming, books, movies, travel, the internet, journalism, philosophy, procrastination, media, finance, environment, google, podcasts, technology, health, scrubs, greys anatomy, house, weeds, heroes etc etc.
Prioritise you say? That I try. It appears as though the only thing I truly desire right now is time itself, and so I have made it my goal, to manage better that which I have been given.
Why does life have to be so hard. when we’re younger we want the days to be shorter, when we’re older we want them to be so so, so much longer so that we have time to actually do the things we want to do outside the hours spent doing the stuff we wish we didn’t have to do. Then when we get sick, to the point were we can barely talk, or what does come out is a mere croak rather than words, we have to spend time on the sofa watching Working Lunch, which I love.
…Though who really watches that stuff? If you’re into business you surely don’t get your info from a show aimed at housewives and stay-at-home dads, and you would be far too busy with “meetings” to waste time watching tv around lunch time. Its for the man who wants to think they know what they’re talking about. Everyone loves when they use pretty animated graphs and pie charts…
Woops, got side-tracked, so as I was saying, Working Lunch, and Loose Women, whilst sipping on my medicine with a nasty after-taste just after I begin to enjoy it, along with hot Lemsip and Lockets (”…a confectionery product manufactured by Mars Incorporated.” Confectionary? Interesting). I still have to try not to swallow too much. The more I swallow, the more pain I inflict upon myself.
And so as I struggle through day three, splitting my time between computer, bed and tv I find that it really isn’t much fun being sick at all. Who wouldda thunk it?
Tonight is the 50th Up in the Attic show. Fifty is a fairly large number. Certainly a significant number, and so the Bruised Fruit Gang are celebrating tonight with a new free compilation CD, as they do every ten shows, this time featuring Cutaways, Team Fresh, General Fiasco, Sines and others. The line-up tonight features the Bow Street Runners and Panama Kings supporting Ed Zealous, who had some new material when I saw them last month.
From humble beginnings in May 2005 UITA has built up a strong reputation for showcasing the best in local talent, and giving new bands that all important foot in the door of the local music industry. They’ve had almost 150 bands grace the stage in that time, and have helped the careers of rising stars like Kowalski, The Beat Poets and The Jane Bradfords.
I am a huge fan of Ed Zealous, Panama Kings weren’t so bad on their first gig last month, Bow Street Runners sound good from their myspace plus I really want that free cd. Alas, I just don’t feel well enough to make it out to where it is still very cold and miserable…
I will continue to rest until I can be perfectly sure I am not going to spread my disease (read: cold) to anyone. By rest read: eat biscuits and watch crap tv movies. Not forgetting of course I still have lots of photos to play with, and through sickness and health it must be done for there are big things to come in the months ahead…
Over the last few days my new shoes have started making a squelching/farting sound when I walk. Specifically, on the heel of my right shoe. My right foot is definitely bigger than the left and this is noticeable in such perfect fitting converse. But this squelching is irritating, almost to the point of embarrassing. It actually sounds like I farted if it happens in a room full of people which, depending on the company, isn’t always a good thing.
This morning I woke up with the most painful throat ever. That and a killer headache. I need throat lozenges desperately. I’ve done all that I can, which isn’t a lot. I had some soup. I turned the heating on. I dressed warmly. I just wanted to go back to bed. And so I did. From 2pm to 6pm. It felt good, in that I-still-feel-like-complete-crap sort of way.
I have a feeling someone might have the words “I told you so” on the tip of their tongue if they knew how I was feeling right now. Maybe I should have worn a coat on that miserable wet day yesterday.
It started off well, 10am, non-hungover 10am. After some breakfast, a bus and a walk back to my own house, I headed out in the rain to the Safehouse Gallery for a book reading by Camel Hartley from her first book of poems, songs and artwork.
The Safehouse is a great space, with its large room and perfect location, away from the Lisburn ‘art gallery’ Road.
The Safehouse Gallery is based in at 25 Lower Donegall Street, Belfast, BT1 2FF (the red door beside Belfast Exposed, before the John Hewitt). The gallery is open from 10am to 4pm Mon to Fri, Sat 12pm to 3pm, Camel’s Exhibition runs until the 25th Nov.
After the quick pint at the John Hewitt, the excitement was starting to build, for I was to see My Chemical Romance in a few hours. Quite different from the art gallery scene, but that’s what I’m all about. Variety.
So in the rain we walked (now joined by a good friend at this point, I don’t often refer to myself as ‘we’), then bussed, to the Kings Hall. To join the line of eager teenagers, all ready to self-harm as soon as the music begins. I had an old cardigan, that I was prepared to cover my face with should the blood come hurtling in my direction like a mass physical recreation of the embodiment of teenage angst.
I was very pleased to see the huge flag hanging from the stage with the words ‘Mindless Self Indulgence‘ a band which I have been listening to for a few years, especially such classics as ‘Stupid Mother Fucker’, ‘Faggot’ and ‘Straight to Video’. I was amazed at the energy of lead vocalist, Little Jimmy Urine, and his constant youthfulness throughout the entire set. Jumping and kicking his super-skinny legs all around him, wearing pink shoes, belt, and other pink bits, much like the picture to the left, spiked hair, a jacket with the words ‘as seen on tv’ and super-flamboyance, he didn’t stand still for more than 3 seconds at a time.
Rude and crude, he tried to piss off the crowd in his typical manor, by laughing at the kids at the front and saying how they can’t go to the toilet if they need to, the ones at the balcony to the side of the stage “are you fucking VIP?”, as well as throwing the occasional plastic glass back at the crowd.
Of course the funniest had to be when he made the mistake that so many others make when their tour makes a stop in Northern Ireland, and it’s lucky that most of the teenage goth/emo kids don’t generally care too much for sectarianism, if they haven’t already decided that religion is not for todays generation of self-harming emo-slash-goth-slash-alternative kids who hang out outside the city hall with their black clothing.
“YAY IRELAND [crowd scream] - This is still Ireland, right? [screaming] - You aren’t part of England anymore are you?” [confused screaming, but screaming all the same]
Someone should really tell bands to be a little careful what they say. It just makes them seem stupid. As the 14 year olds screamed along to whatever Jimmy said, I laughed very hard at the ignorance and hilarity of the situation.
Disappointingly, their set ended, with yet more crushed fans being pulled from the pit of sweat and tears caused by the impatience of those around them. When MCR came to the stage the screams and excitement of the band who’s music has supposedly helped these children through such hard times, each one in black, naturally, to match the sea of black from the crowd.
The first three songs each had pretty bright, hot flames and loud bangs perfectly timed to scare the children, or burst their ear drums. By the third song, lead singer, and generally very angry man, Gerard Way decided it was time to get the crowd to liven up a little, through a little patronising and generally making the kids, who’s confidence is generally lifted through the listening of this music, feel like crap. In a very angry tone, like being shouted at by your own father, he said “I am very disappointed, I can’t hear you” Pacing around the stage, he was either putting on this great act which 14-16 year-olds warm to these days, or was pissed off and tired after a long tour, looking forward to going back to New Jersey.
The vocals were bad, for much of the set I couldn’t hear a word of what he was saying/screaming. I was torn between him giving up and feeling too lazy to sing, he was singing too low, or too high to be heard, or the sound was just bad. At one point the guitarist played three chords, then the sound was reduced dramatically, for those that followed. So maybe it was meant to go like that, though it didn’t sound like that, then when a tech ran on stage to check all the connections between the pedals, it definitely wasn’t supposed to happen. Later, a tech had to fiddle with the guitar whilst it was being played.
Through all this though, it looked good and the teenagers, including the one beside me whose arms nearly collided with my face, seemed to enjoy it.
But today, I could quit smoking, for my throat feels like… well its just sore. Each time I swallow or think about swallowing it pains me. No going out for a while me thinks. With a coat too…
Last week I was asked to recommend a local band, and believe me it is never an easy question. I love my music and I love my local music. There is just so much good music about this land that I have to think very hard before coming up with an answer. But there can only be one this time around.
The chosen band is Boathouse, a Belfast-based five-piece with a host of instruments including a shaker and glockenspiel.
Unfortunately, with the current lineup, they have no official releases other than the session which was broadcase on Across the Line for BBC Radio Ulster in June of this year. The three tracks ‘Johnny and Ruth Story’, ‘What I Remember’ and ‘Don’t Knock’ are rarely far from the currently playing song in my playlist.
The review was published today on the Music Blog over at Unrealitytv.co.uk. The blog, which was launched in August 2005 by Lisa McGarry, is perfect for those who need the latest gossip, opinion and news on the latest UK reality TV shows.
On the other hand, Gerard McGarry has been writing the music section of the blog since March 2007 and manages to update plenty of times a day with the latest news and updates to satisfy anyone’s music needs.
Together they make a great team!
As everyone is probably fully aware, the Apple iPhone was released on Friday 9th November. So naturally BBC News had a poll on the homepage asking “Are you going to buy an iPhone.” The question everyone has been saying lately. The question is then often rephrased, would you if you could afford it? Followed by, do you mind being stuck with O2 for 18 months.
Its pending arrival has been much talked about on blogs and newspapers for the last few weeks, and now, 5 months since its release in the United States, it can be purchased in the UK.
I could be oh so cynical about it all, believe me its taking a lot for me not to, but I can’t because I want one. The reason I don’t have one is that I cannot afford anything at such a cost right now.
Phones are phones - used for making calls and sending txt messages. That is all. Or at least that was my way of looking at it until I set eyes on the iPhone and then touched one in America in the Summer.
Yes I agree, the iPhone is quite revolutionary. They are on a crazy streak of producing such ground breaking products. The test will be in whether it works all the time, and what will happen after a year? Will it die like the iPod does? Like my iPod did?
But I suppose when someone actually puts a music player, camera, phone and internet and lots of other applications on a device this size they are onto something and so my previous belief that there is no need for that stuff on a phone goes completely out the window - for this time it works, and so far seems to work quite well.
Though surely it will go down in price and will be upgraded a million times in the next couple of years, making it affordable for the average user (or those desperate but without funds). When it does I will get one then and will look forward to that day.
Anyway, I like my Nokia 6230i!
What’s that rule again? Oh yeah, never cry in front of a girl. But there was, or at least I thought at the time, a very good reason.
We had decided to take a day trip. Portstewart was suggested and agreed to. The train left Botanic Station at close to 1pm, arriving at around 2:30pm. Trains are awesome.
Very hungry when we arrived we searched for a good 20 minutes, maybe more, for a bar/restaurant to get something decent to eat. Eventually we found Wetherspoons across the bridge at the top of a hill. After a satisfying lunch and pint, we decided there was nothing to do in this ghost town - so we headed to Portrush.
Sundays, it has been discovered, are not the day to go on day trips. Almost everything is closed. People did seem to be milling about the town centre, unbeknownst where they were going or where they had purchased the variety of goods in their plastic bags. While we wandered lost and around in circles find a pub like two desperate alcoholics on a huge hangover in search of the greatest cure, more alcohol.
Eventually a kind shop assistant pointed us in the right direction. We after walking in one final oversized circle, we found our food haven of sweet nourishment.
The next bus to Portrush didn’t take long in arriving. Of course as [terrible] tour guide, I hoped there would be something of interest in this town, more so at least than the last. Unfortunately, this is where the incident happened. I had been curious about the lack of people, it is normally busy, bustling even. Just around the corner was Barry’s Amusements, it will be fun from here on, I thought to myself.
I was wrong. Barry’s was closed. I was suddenly very sad. A tear I’m certain. My childhood. Gone.
I first set foot on the sandy sand of the the Porstewart Strand at not even a year old, and have visited at least once a year since since. Then around 1994 my Granny bought a house on a hill overlooking the beach, the costs and upkeep is contributed by the whole extended family, with each family marking on the calendar when they would be staying throughout the year. I always made sure to be there for my birthday in July.
Portstewart is a fairly quiet town with play-parks, scenery, small shops along the promenade and of course the beautiful beach with its high sand dunes. Portrush, on the other hand is filled with lots of amusement arcades. Naturally I wanted to go there as much as possible. Barry’s Amusements, the biggest in amusement arcade in Northern Ireland, is where I really wanted go. The bumper cars, 2p slot machines, ghost train - which scared the crap out of me when I was young, and other ways to spend a small amount of money and as many hours as possible is I had my way.
The roller coaster, on the other hand, I was never too fond of the look of. Eventually I built up the courage to go on it. It was awesome. Then a few years later they changed it and put a loop in it. I won’t go on it now.
So last Sunday when I saw it was closed and looked very derelict inside I was overcome. I would never be able to do any of those things again.
It was only when I got home that I found out Barry’s isn’t closed forever, it just isn’t open from October through to March. What a relief!
We enjoyed the sunset and headed towards the top of a big hill, but I couldn’t find it so we headed back.
After a long walk we caught the bus to Portstewart, thankfully they are only 10-15mins apart. By this time it was 6pm and we had to get back to Coleraine for the train at 8pm, but Portstewart is small and there ain’t much to see especially in the dark. That beautiful beach couldn’t be seen, but I wasn’t lying about it’s awesomeness.