self-indulgence

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Saturn’s Return… returns

Friday, March 12th, 2010

Yes, we know astrology is bollocks, but there’s gotta be something to explain away my crises – that is, other than self-indulgence with a dollop of melodrama.  My friendly local astrologer looked at my chart early last year and said my Saturn’s Return would be “relatively pain free”.  But lately I’ve been wondering why I’ve been in a bit of a funk.

Then, I read this on a website:

You may feel weak and vulnerable. You want to move ahead, yet are frustrated by a fear of doing so, torn between a compelling urge to throw off everything connected with your past and an equally frantic need to cling to the familiar rather than brave the great unknown.

Even if your external world seems to be in order, your internal structure may feel as though it’s being assaulted with a battering ram. Nervous conditions, irritability, depression, insomnia, and feelings of insecurity are common. Most people go through some sort of identity crisis.

You can add nightmares to that list.  Disappointment.  Heavy boredom.  And an ever-deepening skepticism at a time when you’d be better off taking a leap of faith.

This is why I haven’t been writing.  I’ve been living on a mental diet of cheese puffs.  I’ve even joined the gym again – not just for physical fitness, but as an attempt to lower my mind-fat percentage.

If this is “relatively pain free”… holy shitballs, Batman.

Readable

Friday, May 1st, 2009

I am (hopefully) the first to admit that my posts have been woeful and even more self-indulgent than usual this past month.

For this, I apologise to you, my readers – all six of you lovely people - and give my assurance that I aim to rectify this in the coming weeks.

In the meantime, in all my artistic vanity, I seek to draw your attention to this collection of chronicles in which I’ve made some attempt at telling a story instead of the genuinely pointless blather you see just below.

Of course, a rant is always a rant is a rant is a rant…

Daley out.

Check-in

Monday, April 13th, 2009

Normally I’d frame a post like this in some kind of broader doesn’t-this-happen-to-all-of-us kind of theme.

Not this time.

I’m writing just to check in here and because I’ve realised a few things.

  1. The original idea for me to write a public-worthy blog has flown out the window – this blog is as self-indulgent and unfocused as its predecessor.  It’s just less defamatory.
  2. I’m procrastinating massively.
  3. Maybe I should finally update the neglected Veggie Rant for a blog that actually has a point to it.
  4. I’m not sure why I’m writing numeric points because there aren’t that many points to make.
  5. My right wisdom tooth is an absolute mess at the moment.  Not that you wanted to know.
  6. Still procrastinating.
  7. Yep, still procrastinating.
  8. I made awesome pizza this long weekend.  I’m particularly self-impressed with my potato and rosemary and my sweet potato and feta.  I should take pictures.  I should learn to make my own bases next.
  9. See clauses 2, 6, and 7.

So fine.  I’m procrastinating around fulfilling my Script Frenzy pledge.  I’ve written one-and-a-bit episodes so far (32 pages) when I should’ve finished two episodes by now (around the 43 pages mark).

It’s not funny, but I know where it needs to be funny and vaguely how it needs to be funny and I knew it wouldn’t be funny at this stage anyway.  Phew.  Though I do kind of wish it was funny because then I’d feel a bit more justified in carrying on, considering it’s meant to be a goddamn comedy series.  But you wouldn’t know it to read it.  It’s comedy incognito.  Lord.

I also have a lot of music to learn and singing practice to do.  I need to start exercising again.  I need a haircut and that’s just the start of the general maintenance required.  I need to stop downloading TV shows lest I blow my bandwidth limit.  I need to stop watching TV shows so I can get singing, learning, writing, general maintenance, and life underway.

I feel very lost with singing at the moment, by the way, so I’m procrastinating around doing that too.  That’s probably why I’ve managed to write 32 pages of script thus far, and why I have still not managed to grasp vocal mixing yet.  Nor have I grasped how to sing my solo without feeling both atonal and a w*^ker.  Of course, it doesn’t help that I don’t even know the words yet.  What an asset I’ll be come rehearsal – ie: next weekend.  Crap, crap, crap!!!

Am I doomed to get things done by using one thing as a means of procrastination around another?

That could work, except for the part where all I can really think about is watching the next episode of Damages season 2 (Should we side with Glenn Close or not?  Who does Rose Byrne shoot in those cutaways??  No, don’t tell me!).

How did I become this cowardly, inert, procrastinating, craft-poor blob?

How can I write 11 pages by midnight?

How can I learn 8 songs by Sunday?

How can I fit in 2 Pump classes this week?  Will I still be able to walk afterwards?

Why did I make this cocktail so sour?

Why did I make a cocktail at all?  I’m supposed to be writing!  Plus, I already had open Zibobo Rosa (Mmmm…) in the fridge – couldn’t I have had a flute of that?

Who says ‘flute’ like that?  Especially with reference to domestic booze consumption?

Anyway, I had to use that lime – it cost 50 freaking cents – and if four sachets of sugar and half a glass of cranberry juice isn’t enough to sweeten it, then too bloody bad.

(beat)

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!!!

 Blackout.

Inspiration

Friday, February 20th, 2009

Two nights ago I thought I’d lost a brand new pair of fishnet stockings just off stage behind a curtain.

It was opening night and, though I wouldn’t use the word panicked, you could say I was a bit jittery.  I periodically went behind the curtain – in between doing hair and make-up – to see if I could find them.  It seemed that the more I went out of my way to find them, the more elusive they were.

(It’s funny how inanimate objects take on a personality when they don’t do what you want them to.  Suddenly your computer is a “slow b@$tard”, and your leaky pen is a “messy b@$tard”, though your missing stockings on opening night are probably more like ”fvckers”.)

But then someone switched on a light and they were right there - sitting on the floor by my backpack.  I must’ve looked at, rummaged through, and stood on them at least 10 times.

Last year, all I wanted was inspiration.  I’d trawl the web (on my lunch break *cough*) looking for stirring words of wisdom on creativity, on making a decent contribution to the world, on why doing your thing is worthwhile.

I searched around in the dark and, well, I couldn’t find the fvcker.  In my kind of desperate, disgruntled search, I probably walked right past it and trampled on it dozens of times.

So I played Nintendo Wii, watched every last episode of Will & Grace, and got really, really good at making pizza (really, you should try it sometime).

And somewhere along the way, the lights came on.

TV shows and singing played a significant part in this.  This is going to sound way too earnest for this blog, but I don’t think I’ve known a purer joy than these things.

Now there seems to be an abundance of inspiration.  The last few days alone have brought me a new clarity. The following two things in particular have kind of rocked my world for the better:

The first: these essays on singing from some opera singer guy.  I’m not sure who he is, but he really can string a sentence – wordy but fascinating.

Saving best for last, though, this talk on creativity from writer Elizabeth Gilbert is, in a word, amazing.  It’s also almost 20 minutes long, but I implore you to listen to it right to the end – you’ll be glad you did.

Ole indeed  :)

Just a moment in the woods

Tuesday, December 30th, 2008

Okay, so I’m going to do one of those primary school-esque reports here which I desperately hope you won’t hate me for: My Year In Review.

After all, where would the blogging form be without recounting what we ate for breakfast, the progress of our favourite football/cricket/synchronised swim team, or how we manage to successfully pluck our eyebrows on the bus (God, who does that? … *cough*)?

madvanAh, the only challenge is working out which aspect of my life is more fascinating – the content management system I use for work or how fast my grey strands re-emerge after colouring.  But I’m saving those juicy titbits for chapter one of my upcoming autobiography, Yes, I DO Carry Hand Sanitiser Everywhere (so how did I get a cold that lasted 3 fking weeks?).

But my whole life isn’t important right now - 2008 is the year of the moment.  It’s the year I’m calling “The Loop-the-Loop” or “A Moment In The Woods” or “The Wii Stop” (just try and stop me from making ‘Wii’ jokes, biatch).

Although I didn’t make any progress in particular, 2008 was a necessary detour.  Or Wii-tour, if you will (or won’t).

In January, I had a feeling that 2008 would be a leap forward – decisions would be made, direction found, life would be on course.  Progress.  It was the kind of luminous hope, resolve and optimism that was bound to see me fall on my arras.

Make no mistake, by mid-April I had to climb down and pick my face up from the Ninja Turtles’ Sewer Lair (Master Splinter says hi and wants his kimono back from Katie Holmes).

Truth be told,  2008 has been a really fun year.  Too much fun, perhaps, for one who’s been known to spend entire parties in the restaurant bathroom, singing sad songs at the mirror… sober.

drab2006Clearly, when it came to fun, I had a lot to learn.  For a long time, my idea of fun was making lists, sleeping on the floor, or writing poetry to a blaring soundtrack of Counting Crows.  And, dude, we’re talking poems about feelings of “eternal internal incompletion” (boys), “moments that cascade off the bridge like fireflies” (boys), or ”rejection rife” (unemployment…  who am I kidding?  boys).  Granted, these phrases are nearly 10 years old now, but old habits try hard.

But unlike 1999, 2008 was not a year that had me tempted to help a shrink make their mortgage repayments (but that’s a story I’m saving for chapter two, Keira Daley is Easily Distrac-Are Those Chocolate Coins?).

Though it was already a work in progress, 2008 was the year I think I finally understood fun as more than a concept.  I learnt how to have fun like normal people – nightlife and boozes and Nintendo Wii.  Now I take every opportunity to go Wii, Wii, Wii all the way home, only to Wii and watch TV (Wii much?  Got Wii?  Wii, Wii monsieur!  …just you try and stop me, biatch).

In 2008, I wore a dress on more than one occasion.  I bought not one, but two wigs – neither of which were for a show or a film… but just for fun!  I said yes to every work-oriented party invitation (four) and followed through. 

jumpingvinesI travelled to three places I’ve never been before – and with people, no less – the Hunter Valley (twice!), Greece, and Tasmania.  The one thing they have in common?  Good cheese.  I’d say wine as well, but so far I’ve found Greek wine about as pleasant as the Wii of Satan after a healthy dose of asparagus (thank you for a year of joy, 30 Rock - booyah to that 2008 discovery for me).

But speaking of wine, I have learnt a bit about it this year.  It’s interesting and, if I ever end up feeling like I need more science in my life, I may just run off and become a viticulturist (I know I said the same thing about geology when I went to Santorini, but who’s counting the degrees I’ve fleetingly pined for? … Five).

I’ve taken other classes, too.  I did an eight-week Greek language class, which did me eight-thirteenths of sweet FA in Greece.  As you can imagine, this went down really well with the locals who took one look at my half-Grecian features and decided I should be no less than fluent.  I did as well as ‘hello’, ‘please’, ‘thank you’ and – out of sheer desperation one day – ‘laundromat’.

I trespassed for this photo

FYI, don’t let anyone tell you that there’s a word for ‘vegetarian’.  It’s like Atlantis – it might exist, but nobody knows what it sounds like and some people think you’re insane for believing in it.

I did Bikram yoga for about five months.  Once I got over feeling like a giraffe trying to crochet a poncho, I was hooked.  The heat and the meditative aspects were the perfect remedy for the winter of my discontent (and just winter, really).

But that’s on hiatus.  Who wants to be in a 38 degree room in the middle of summer?  Plus, one of my friends accused me of having Stockholm Syndrome for defending its ‘horrors’ (saving that story for my third chapter, I Could Look So Hot If Stopped Eating Ferrero Rocher And Started Exercising But That’s As Likely As My Growing To Love Tom Cruise).

Different job, same awesome viewIt’s been a learning year, but not what I’d call progress.  The only thing that’s really changed is my job.  And, really, that only involved moving a metre away from my previous desk, and it was a job I was already doing part-time.  Now it’s a job I’m partly doing full-time (*baboom ching* “I’m here ’till Thursday, try the veal - I had to because I still don’t know the Greek word for ‘vegetarian’” [I'm lying, I've never eaten veal and the word is 'khortofaryous'...ish]).

Aside from that, I’ve done a bit more singing, I’ve called it a day on improv (I know, right?  It’s like losing a limb that keeps doing things I haven’t told it to), I have a few new items of furniture, I’ve watched so very much amazing TV (on computer and DVD, of course – who watches TV when it’s actually on?), and I’ve overhauled my blog.

homerBut it’s not progress.  I sang, but I also took an arseload of time off and now my (as it was, underdeveloped) middle voice is off receiving therapy because it feels I’ve ignored it in favour of its siblings, chest and head.  Loser.

As for The Daley Rant, in changing it I fear I may have schtupped myself.  I miss the candid semi-anonymity I once had, and the way that helped me side-step defamation suits.

In the end, though, a year enjoyed can’t be a year wasted.  And although it wasn’t moving forward, it was at least moving sideways.  That has to count for something – I mean, some crustaceans have no choice.

So maybe now I’ve learnt to have fun, I can finally stop being so heavy and get on with things.  Or at least know when to have a Wii break.