One Day / What's On Your Mind?

The rain can fall

And the sun wont shine

The clouds come out

But nothing's gonna change my mind

I said I want to be with you

That's exactly what I'm gonna do

You guard your heart

But our eyes collide

Yeah you guard your heart

Close the door--you turn out the light

Tell me what's on your mind, what's on your mind?

If I look what will I find, what will I find?

'Cause you know I need it, but I can't read it

So tell me what's on your mind, what's on your mind?

Whoa tick tock, you watch the clock, 

it's all been fun 

but time is running away from you

And that won't do

Tell me what's on your mind, what's on your mind?

If I look what will I find, what will I find?

'Cause you know I need it, but I can't read it

So tell me what's on your mind, what's on your mind?

And I've only known you one day.

Passion, Music, and So Like Yeah.

Spicy Song Of The Week

I would like us all just to close our eyes. Ok now read this: ...no wait. Open your eyes to read it...but then close them and think--no..just close ONE eye and read this.

Today is Sunday, January 24th.

Today is Sunday January 24th.

Today is Sunday January 24th!

And this is the spicy song for this week.

This is the first time I have had a moment to sit down and actually write in almost two weeks. I've noticed a trend that the more depressed/bored/alone I feel, the more I write, and the more you enjoy it. Stop taking pleasure in my misery. That's heartless.

Little House

The Fray

How To Save A Life

These guys. Ahhhh! He sings so perfectly, the piano-- and there's an epic band to make the sound so HUGE. If only these guys would come to Calgary!

OH WAIT 

Sadly, this event is merely serves as a reminder of the current financial situation. With tuition due, and the news of upcoming tuition hikes, rent, Groceries... (we have no bread, milk, cereal, rice, tuna....but we gots eggs), I'll limit my spending to good ol Tim Horton's and billsbillsbillsbills.

The question is naturally brought up: There must be a better way to pay rent then in Canadian dollars. Or dollars in general. What if I called up the rental agency and said, "listen, I'm a little short on coin right now. Maybe we can work something out? Like popcorn kernels." Or write them a song. Surely if you give them enough other stuff, they will accept it over money! Everyone has their weakness! I just have to find theirs...

..then I can go to The Fray. Maybe their fan base would be as beautifully attractive and 80% female just like Tegan and Sara's was. HOoOoo man.

I don't have time

I don't have time to talk to people who don't have time for people who don't talk to people who don't have time to talk to people.


But I've got time for you.

Name Games

"Hi, I'm Josh!"

"Yeah.. I know. You introduced yourself five minutes ago."

"Wait...did I? Are you that same person?"

"Mhm."

"So...what's your name?"

This had to stop. At some point, I would have to be able to remember faces and names. It's kinda important if I want to meet people. Especially around people who I've seen four or five times, it's not cool to say "hey, I forgot your name...um..sorry" so I have to be subtle about it. But even my old stand-by technique for these situations was beginning to fail too often:

"Hey man, I was putting my number in your phone, and I just wanted to make sure I spelled your name right."

"Hahaha good one."

"No..seriously. How do you spell your name?"

"Wait--actually? ...It's Adam. A-D-A-M."

"Oh. yeah...um cool. Thanks"

Or worse yet, they'll ask how I THINK it's spelled. Dang.

So the resolution was born to know the names of people I talk to. It had been going pretty well, I thought I was on a roll. I could remember the names of people I'd only met once and had hardly talked with. I guess they like that, because it sure did make it easier to talk to them again. 


But then I was thrown a curve ball, in the form of a text message.


"Hey, Breakfast this weekend?"
 


My first inclination was to say "sure!" but then I realized I hadn't checked who sent it to me. Breakfast is a sacred time of day, and I choose my eating partners carefully, in order to start my day off right. This time, however, it came from an unknown number. Frick, I thought, I can't go asking "who is this?" to someone who feels comfortable enough to go for breakfast with me. I can't face that embarrassment. So I was left with only one option:

"Sure, great idea! But I'm tutoring/working both days" (and then in order to fish for some information) "how about during the week?"

The answer was discomforting. "Nope, I work 9-5 every day."

Shucks. So which of my friends work full time and would want to for breakfast with me?  I have gone for breakfast with two people recently, and yet I don't have either number in my phone. Why? Well, facebook usually trumps any other medium of conversation. I at least deduce that I'm texting with a girl. How do I know this? Well, Watson, girls tend to have far more impeccable grammar and sentence structure when texting. And these texts were in A+ shape. But anyways, there was a mystery to solve. So I replied:


"Well we'll have to figure something out."

She says:

"Yeah! There's so much I have to catch up with you"

an hour later:

"What are the chances you are at the Mother Mother concert tonight?"

Okay STOP. That's a pretty obscure concert to casually wonder if I was at, isn't it? This means that she may read my blog, since I don't think I've ever uttered a word about that band in conversation, but it was a Spicy Song Of The Week a while ago....( So, mystery texter, if you're reading this now: you win. I don't have your number saved, and it's driving me crazy. I'm sorry. Breakfast sounds good. Cora's? Cuz Nellie's has mouse poo in their food.)


So she likes Mother Mother, works 9-5, and hasn't seen me in a while. I needed more info to crack this. Perhaps I know their friends?

"No I didn't go to the concert. Who did you go with?"

"Julie gave me a ticket."

Julie. Like most common name everrr. Hope is lost for now...unless...

Ending #1:


We go for breakfast. And I just find out when I get there who the mystery pal is as I scan the restaurant for familiar faces. Then I sit down, order 2 eggs, some ham, beans, pancakes, and tea. Then I smile and say "hey. I'm glad you texted me. It's been a while."And as soon as I leave the restaurant, I change the name of the contact in my phone from "Who???" to their name. Spelled correctly. Because I never had to ask. Because I know my friends' names. Yeah.



Alternate ending:


I book the breakfast date for Sunday morning, at Cora's. I once again forget to set my alarm, and end up arriving late. While I'm on my way over, I get a text from Who??? saying "I have a table, just look for me when you walk in." ..Okay...so now I look for someone I know. I get there, walk in and the place isn't too full yet. And I see one of my friends, sitting alone, clearly waiting for someone. I smile and walk towards her. Then, two tables down I see someone ELSE I know sitting alone, waiting for someone. Oh no. What now? Which person is expecting me? Which person seems surprised to see me? GYAH!



Alternate Alternate ending:

I walk into the restaurant at the chosen time and scan the crowd. I don't recognize anyone. Hmm... Is "Who???" late? Or---oh wait. This is awkward. She might have been texting me as a wrong number. Friiickk. Ok now I look for anyone sitting alone... There. In the corner. She seems nice. I hope it's her, but I don't know for sure. So I call the number on my cellphone. Her phone rings.  I walk over to the table and hold up my phone as she answers hers. 

"Uh..hello?" she says into her phone, trying to put the pieces together, since according to her caller ID, "Laura" is supposed to be calling her and she's apparently running late, but there's a random guy in front of her holding up his cellphone, chuckling.


"Hi," I say, smiling. "Do you know what you're going to order? I'm starving. Breakfast was a great idea!" I sit down as she sits there confused, crack open the menu and look up at her. "So, what's all this news you had to fill me in on?"

Spicy Song Of The Week

A year ago, I was back from my trip, on the high of my life, just starting a new semester at school. Everything was good. People were cool, easy to talk to, and I felt healthy after trekking the world. I'd seen a disproportionately extensive number of places around the world for being gone only 4 months: Iceland, Spain, Morocco, Egypt, Athens, Jordan, India, Thailand. Traveling pushes you in so many ways. You make more memories than you are capable of remembering, and slowly they will fade. However, a year ago, they were still fresh. Every day was governed by living by the rules I had learned while traveling. I knew a happiness greater than any happiness before or since.

But there was a problem. I had a new perspective. Uh oh, right? So here I was, doing the exact same thing that I had been doing before I left: school, work, band, friends, whatever. But this time I was doing it with a new perspective, an new mindset. Entirely different thoughts. As it turns out, it's impossible to think differently and yet do the same things. Something had to give.

Sadly, for the most part, I've long lost the mindset, and still cling to the same life as before. Sure, there was a lot of changes to my thought processes, and I was no longer craving escape like I had been, but in effect, I was just Josh again. I fill the role that is expected of me. We all do. I got so frustrated about all the things I seems incapable of changing about myself.

In a way that only music can, Silversun Pickups became an audible form of my identity. I lived in this album. Every note, beat, and lyric. I sung these songs as I went from my highest high to my lowest low. They needed to be in this play list eventually, so why not a year after their initial significance?

Rusted Wheel

Silversun Pickups

Carnavas

Unless you've seen us live+full band, you won't be able to make the connection, but Silversun Pickups was a huge source of inspiration for me writing the music for Cross Your Fingers.

Ok. Breakfast time. Yeup...eggs.

A Depressing Solution: Hapathy

It's all about finding the middle road. Everything in moderation-- including moderation, you might say.

You don't want to be TOO happy. Then you just freak people out. Don't be that person walking alone down the street with a crazy lopsided smile plastered across their tilted face, blinking every second, and muttering something under their breath. When you're so psychotically happy, it can skew your perspective on reality. Happiness will punch you in the face smash your glasses so you can't see the world too clearly, and no one is quite sure how to relate to you.

You don't want to be brutally sad. I don't feel like this needs much of a defense. No one wants to be miserable all the time, letting everything get to you, drag you down. This is unhealthy, straight up. The kind of people you attract when you are eternally miserable are the exact kind of people who will show you new ways to reach lower lows. Complaining is exhausting.

The solution?

Hapathy: A certain type of apathy that achieves happiness.

If you are walking the middle road between uberhappy and ubersad, this road is called apathy. But not sad apathy. Just plain apathy. This is a comforting feeling. Quiet happiness. Emotions carefully guarded, not wearing them on your sleeve. Instead, wear a small smile whenever possible. It's crazy how smiling actually has the effect of making you feel happier. No one needs to know you're happy, really. Unless they want to know, then they'll make some sort of inquiry about how you're doing or just strike up general conversation.

The minute I stopped showing blatant and immediate interest in random people, they started showing interest in me. It's remarkable, really, that it's the guy who really doesn't care who gets the girl. And the girl who shows immediate interest in you is considered 'easy' and avoided. We like the challenge of breaking through people's hapathy. It's attractive, I suppose. How depressing is that?

Caution: there are side effects when a naturally curious, talkative, bold, social person (such as..oh i dunno, me) makes an attempt to show some restraint, who begins to filter what he says, using discretion, and trying not to be open, blunt. The major side effect? It's easier and a more justifiable strategy to be dishonest. Lies are the basis of avoiding confrontation as well as meaningful interaction. "How are you? Good. Oh..okay..thanks for lying. We both know that's not true. But at least we don't have to talk about it."

 I hate it. I hate that it works. But the result is that I don't freak people out. I don't come across creepy because I simply showed some platonic interest. Because CREEPY people are the ones who talk to you in class even though you don't know them. Hapathy works because then THEY make the first contact. Well, this is an ongoing investigation, so don't quote me on anything here. I'm not after anything here. I'm not pursuing anyone or anything... I'm just saying, putting up some fences seems to encourage people to climb them, tear them down, as long as it's on their terms.

(Photo Credit: Mark Persinger)

I bore myself these days, so there's not a lot of incentive to write. Sorry. I guess you'll just have to pay attention in class for a change.

We are recording right now, and I'll be super excited to share it with all of yous guys when we finish. Spicy Song of The Week tomorrow.

Spicy Song Of The Week

Many times in the last few months, people have come to our house, and a curious thing might happen. You'll knock on the door (or just walk in if you know how things work around here) and take off your shoes, and stop. "What's that sound?" you say. They hear crashing sounds from the depths of our basement, bull in a china shop style. Josh in a candy store style. Josh anywhere style. But it's not Josh, since he is standing at the door along with you. So what's that curious, loud, obnoxious chaos echoing from the basement.

"Oh that's Darcy."

"Darcy...doing what?"

"Making music."

"That's making music?"

As the cymbals continue to crash.

Mhm. It's true. Darcy can spend up to six hours locked in the basement with the same recording gear we used for Faith In Shadows, recording track after track, layering them all. Over the last few months, he has created This week's Spicy Song Of The Week.

Sometimes, I'll be making food and I didn't even know he was home. Then he'll come running up the stairs, in grubby clothes, unshaven for weeks, and says "Josh, I'm about to make a ridiculous amount of noise." and I say "should I be quiet while you record?" and he turns and looks at me, eyes flickering back and forth as his synapses fire 5x faster than ours ever will. Halfway down the stairs again, he says darkly, "It won't make a difference." Minutes later, he's smashing cymbals like crazy. Once he came upstairs, stole a couch cushion, and retreated again. We never saw that cushion again.

But it was all worth it! I present to you a song that I'm not even sure how many hours it took to create, but it's pretty unique and complex. A six minute and 12 second epic song by a musical genius. For other work, check out our band, Walking Backwards. Be sure to let him know what you think :-)

Limited And/Yet Blind

Darcy Cordell

Someone tell me why.

What is it with old people standing on the street corners. Not begging. Not reading. Not lost. Just standing. What's up with that?  What is it is that they see that I don't? What is it that they want to see? What are they looking for? Perhaps one day I'll walk up to one of them and stand alongside them, stand there and look in the same direction, and try and find what they have found, or at least search with them. I envision a very similar scene to Colin Farrell from the movie In Bruges (watch it and you'll understand).

J: Hey [ I walk up and stand beside Old man]

Old Man: Hello...

J: [ I bury my face up to my eyes in my coat ] Man, it's cold today.

Old Man: Minus 4, minus 8 with the windchill...

J: [I know he probably checked first thing this morning just before doing the crossword over a bowl of porridge] Newspaper say that?

Old Man: Should be warmer tomorrow. Chinook, I'd say.

J: Ah. ....................................What you doin?

[not even for a second does he seem to shift his glance towards me. His eyes are fixated, yet seem to be unfocused. I realise he could be blind. Maybe he was just trying to get the mail, and ended up here all alone. Lost, but unaware of his curious circumstance. I feel bad.]

Old Man: Looking...watching....waiting.

J: For what exact---

Old Man: Shhh. You'll see.

 J: [now he's got me curious. I have to know. I stand and wait...watch...look.] Umm..okay.

Suddenly, a squirrel plops out of the tree. He has a peanut in his mouth. I safely assume that this old man has been feeding this squirrel a peanut every day for several years, and that other squirrels get jealous and treat this squirrel badly because of this special treatment. A smile faintly stretches the creased and weathered skin of the old man. The squirrel cautiously approaches the road, not 15 feet from where we stand right across the street. It's like the squirrel is coming TO the man. No way. The two lock eyes briefly, then the man looks down, frowning.

J: what? what's happening?

Old Man: It's...it's time.

J: HOLY. WHAT is it time for?

Old Man: [reconfigures his facial expression into a quiet determined grimace] Just...watch.

The squirrel immediately ran out into the street, heading straight for the old man. But no--wait! There's a car coming! Stop squirrel! Old man! Dooo sommethiinnngggg! ---THWUMP

The unforgiving treads of the Jeep carried on down the road, leaving a brown lump motionless in its path, peanut a half meter away. The Old man slightly limps to the middle of the road and kneels. He reaches for the peanut, picks it up, and puts it securely in his coat pocket. I stand at the curb, glancing both ways to make sure another car doesn't make a second victim of the old man, unsure of what to do. The old man turns, and finally looks at me.

Old Man: Look up!

[I look up]

Old Man: You see them?

J: What?

Old Man: the geese!

J: uhh--yeah..?

Old Man: [returns to stand beside me] Well my brothers nephew-in-law once went to a small town up north for some hiking. he says there were hundreds of them all huddled in a pond.

J: [mucho confused] but..the squirrel...what was that all about?

Old Man: of course, Robert was much younger then. He's a pilot now. Barbara on the other hand still goes outside for hikes once in a while, but her asthma gets the best of her. The doctor told her she should use an inhaler but those damn things weren't around when I was young. Scam, is what they are. Once Alan died, Barbara's cousin had to move in to keep her company. Funerals are expensive you know, and such a bore.......

J: Who's Alan?--Wait--but...but?? THE SQUIRRELLL!

Old Man: ...the diabetes in manageable, though I find it difficult going pee all the time--of course that's the medication.....

He clearly doesn't care or notice whether I am there or not, and continues to talk as I back away slowly. There were no answers here. Only more questions.  I shake my head and go home.

I think it's safe to say, that no one will ever know why these old people do what they do. All I know is, I'm sure in 40 years, I'll catch you doing the same thing. Just look both ways, please, before you cross. And keep a few peanuts handy. And I don't care about Alan.

Here We Go

I'm so good at sleeping in. It's on my resumé right below 'expert music listener'. I'm a little nervous for school only because I'll have to wake up at EIGHT AM. That's just not how I roll. I'm sure 74% of people reading this were up before then yesterday, but only a gifted handful of people can stay up until 4am for no reason and accomplish nothing and not be bored.

Either way, structured days will help me stay organized, as I've started tutoring as a part-time job. GO me. Plus we are going to be playing a lot more open mics and acoustic shows this semester. Hopefully this all keeps me busy enough that I don't 1) join a gang, or 2) get bored. Boredom kills me a little, I think. Perhaps I'll get back to my regular writing schedule by then.

Things I hope to accomplish this semester:

• write that book
• find that passion
• make that plan
• fix that GPA
• fix this body
• fix this mind
  
• write those songs
• meet those people
• cook those meals
• Smile
  

TEGAN AND SARA TONIGHT!        YES.


I have to say that New Years is now my favourite Holiday of the year. Why? There's no garbage attached to it. No one has to buy gifts or cards. You can spend it however you want! Wanna go out drinking? GO! Want to go to a movie! GO (see Up in the Air) Want to play Parcheesi with the cat lady? DEFINITELY.  There's only one rule. You MUST stay up until midnight. Don't be that person. It's a pretty phenomenal concept that every moment passes forever. We don't go backwards. Every moment that has already happened is concrete, static, unchanging. What's done is done. Crazy. With that in mind, we can really only ask two questions:

1) Why?

...Why not? Don't waste your energy questioning what has happened.

2) What's next?

Dunno.

I really hope this is a good year. It's up to me, I suppose.

The Winnings and Woes of Wanderings in Winter Weather.

The title to this post is the best part. Just stop reading. You've seen all you need to see.

So my parents have bestowed upon me, for the time being, a nifty Ford Windstar. It's not the coolest car, and it's not in perfect shape, but gosh darn it's cold outside sometimes, and it's nice to get things done more quickly. So for that I am thankful. However, due to unknown demons that tend to possess Fords (the last Ford my family owned basically exploded minutes after we parked it in the garage one day), the heating has failed. For all I know, it failed in July, but I didn't try to use it until December. This sucks in more ways than one.

I now have to scrape off the ice (with my Safeway card) on the outside of the car, as well as the inside. Oh but it gets worse. I have to wear an extra coat while driving. Yesterday I forgot my coat in the car and this morning when I went to go get it, it was crunchy. Frozen solid.  And since my car is perma-cold, the windows tend to freeze up and the buttons don't work. Not a big deal in the winter, since I tend to avoid driving with the windows down... but the severity of this problem makes itself clear in the following story.

I had to take the car in for an oil change. Having never had a car before, I wasn't entirely sure how the whole process worked. Where do I go? What do I say? How long can I pretend I know everything about cars before the mechanic realizes I'm more useless than a baby trying to tame a lion (imagine that. just kidding...don't)? I was on my way to Minit Lube when suddenly I realised that perhaps if I got a carwash, maybe he'd think that I was a little bit better than average Joe one car over. Yes, I'd have to get a carwash. Stopped at Petro Canada, and went into the station to buy a carwash code, which I would have to punch into the magical box at the door to the automated carwash and then it would go bloop and bleep and magically roll my car forward into the abyss of soapy suds and blue cloth monsters. Got my ticket, and took my car to the entrance. Already, it had frosted up again, so I could barely see. I managed to pull up to the magical box, and rolled down my window to punch in the code. Bloop. Beep. Roll forward.

WAIT!

My window! It won't go up!! There was a car directly behind me so I couldn't reverse to fight the track I was rolling along. I punched the button again and again, still creeping ahead into the chaotic blue mess of doom. What do I do? I considered bailing. The car may get soaked, but I didn't need to be. But no. I refuse to 'that guy' who they'll tell stories about at dinner parties saying "I was sitting in line for the car wash and ahead of me, some guy jumped out of his car just before the car went in! He let his car go through the wash without him in it. What a punk. Kids these days." Instead, I was forced to use my secret weapon in order to save the car and myself from certain disaster: Yelling and pushing that button REALLY hard.

pushpushpush!GGGYYYYYAAAAAAAARRRRAAAAAGGGHHHHHHAAAAAA!pushpushpushpush!

Slowly, the window clunked up, in jagged, uneven movements just as the water started to spray my front bumper. Relief swept over me, and I collapsed into my frosty seat, letting the storm of bubbles and car-shaking water jets do their work.

Glistening and sparkly, I left the carwash to get my oil change. The first thing he said is "Your hood is frozen shut. That's what happens when you get a car wash in minus 15."  Thanks buddy. I did it for you. He told me the oh-my-goodness-your-car-needs-more-than-just-an-oil-change story and I replied with "oh i'm sure" and got some sort of engine flush thing too. All in all, he explained the inner workings of my car and how this doo hickey has an intake valve and the cylinder bone connects to the piston bone lalala and I stood their saying "oh yeah mmhmm" and asked his name and Reed told me have a good day and I shook Reed's greasy hand, and I shivered all the way home and dreamt of warmer places where buttons always worked and cars were free and the only greasy things were delicious hamburgers and chicken fingers. Cars freak me out sometimes. Expensive business, too-- cars blowing up, rebuilding the garage, finding another place to live, getting an oil change.

Just remember, you can't afford a ford.

Tonight, I stay home and drink tea. IMPORTED tea. None of this domestic nonsense.

Spicy Song Of The Week

That feeling where you get to the top of the roller coaster, and you feel completely suspended in mid air, not attatched to anything, completely free. Just before you come crashing down. That feeling of uncertainty, of possibility. Both invigorating and absolutely terrifying. The indecision is what makes this so significant:You can't be sure what comes next. Will you fly off the tracks? Or perhaps will you gain so much momentum from the ride down that you race along through it all so quickly that you can no longer comprehend the rate of change? It does no good to dwell. This is a blur, a vague idea, what will become a memory of a memory. Don't try to hard to cling to this feeling in order to understand it, for it will inevitably pass. Don't try to stop on the tracks, for that will only make the trip down the other side more terrifying. Go with the flow. Eyes forward, chin tucked. Knees together. Down we go.

Sky

Joshua Radin & Ingrid Michaelson

Unclear Sky EP

I have nothing specific to say. Happy new years. It's been a good start. Perhaps.