Emotional Housekeeping

I read today on the BBC website that primroses have been spotted in Dublin, and that Spring is already on the way, despite Autumn barely being past. I think that warm winters definitely have affected our seasons, but I suspect that Spring will still be more or less on time this year, despite giving early signs. Many visitors to Ireland have told me that it is a country without seasons, so maybe I am a bit used to it. In any case, the days in Barcelona have been mild of late. You will still see me rush around with a scarf or a jumper, but it is bright and sunny and even warm at the moment. I hope it stays like this for my mam´s visit next week.

I had the last two days off and on Thursday I went to Darren´s house to rehearse with himself and Gordon. There was a huge accident outside seconds before I came down the street(I´d stopped off to buy some beer, so I guess beer saved my life). I think it was basic centrafugal force that had caused the car to turn upside down though, as it wasn´t much crushed and I think yer man was concious inside still. So hopefully not too bad.

We did "Switch that Light On" and it sounds really good. I rerecorded my basic tracks so that they have the correct length to play along with, and it is sounding fine. I watched a documentary on Tuvan throatsinging afterwards as Gordon fell asleep on my shoulder. I declined to stay overnight due to a strong sense of foreboding, and got a late night bus home to find the door double-locked. Nathalie opened the door groggy and grumpy, but I couldn´t sleep and went to do some logic puzzles before going to bed.

The following day I took it easy enough, and got up late. Tato and I went and bought 6 bottles of wine as Nathalie prepared some pasta. We were joined shortly by Darren with 2 bottles of Cava. The lads from the falafel would be down later. We´d a great time dancing around the house and drinking until Tato and Nathalie decided to go out and but some cigarettes. I´d a bad feeling about it, and sure enough Tato winked and nudged enough to make himself clear. I asked them to come back, but of course they didn´t. So after 20 minutes of being alone in the house with Darren, I suggested we go out. Tato and Nathalie couldn´t have painted a clearer picture if they´d told Darren to his face. I was a bit pissed off at the childishness of it all. If I want to be on my own for any reason I can engineer it myself.

We went to Trece first, a little cocktail bar off Placa Reial. It is a tiny refridgerator of a place, with dusky photos of naked ladies and old records on the wall. I had a really strong Mojito before heading off again to the Shamrock to find some work colleagues who had called me.

The Shamrock is a bit like a bar you would find in Tallaght or some newish housing estate in Dublin. It looks like an old snookerhall with new bricks, garish lighting, and the regular guinness clocks on the walls. Darren was completely hammered by this stage, and the situation was not improved by the fact that he ordered a drink, and my colleague ordered him a drink also. He was apologising profusely and I was unsure if he was really as drunk as he made out. I was bored. I opened a free magazine which screamed out "RAZZ:Soulwax & 2manyDJs". Well. My favourite band was playing down in Razzmatazz (or Rathmatath, as the Catalans call it). I wanted to go. But there was the small matter of finishing pints first.

Some pints and a taxi later and we were standing outside Razzmatazz looking bewildered. The queue stretched right around the block, and apparently is never so bad. It would take at least an hour, we were told. We watched for a bit but the queue was really not moving. I should have gone home then.

No, instead we took another taxi to La Paloma and this time the music was alright. I had had enough to drink and stuck to the water and danced. Darren was very affectionate by now, and I was politely pretending I didn´t get it and just being normal friendly back. I felt so rotten about it, but I just realised that I didn´t want to spoil this friendship over something stupid. It occurred to me that my prurient side might also have kicked in and I might behave differently if I were single. But this morning I know for certain that I have reached a point where I feel alone again, alone in a way that can´t be filled by messing around with people, that can´t be fixed by pretending. I think I will just have to do some emotional house-cleaning and start again looking for my (stupid) Mister Right or whatever he´s called.

This morning I woke up to my phone ringing. I answered "Hi Dana!" thinking it was my work mate. An indignant Dani retorted with "Dana?! DANA?!"...oops. I didn´t have anything to talk with him about. How come I am so isolated from everyone? Maybe the time has come to move again...