Tuesday, January 17, 2006

Dj Betty (Flashpost)

Today I finally had my first DJ lesson. I had been looking forward to it for weeks, to learn something completely new to me, and also to carry on the legacy. My Dad (when he was cool) was a great DJ - he had these giant wardrobe speakers that reached the ceiling and had all of these exclusive reggae tunes. He would still have them if his brother hadn't fobbed them off years ago; they're still not speaking about it, I don't even know what my uncle looks like. I don't know him, so I don't miss him.

I was having a long day leading up to the lesson - in english I was reading good old Old English and then discussing the madness of the rise of Stalin. Everyone simply changed sides in accordance to what suited them to stay in power. They overthrew the Tsarist regime to force on the Russian people a type of Marxism that wasn't completely Marxist because they forced the "revolution" onto then and...oh, it doesn't matter. Socialism has sold out, at least in Britain. It was just too 'lovely' to work. People like things - they fill our thighs and cover the barren ground. Check this out for an example of Purple Politics - I can imagine the history syllabus: One Hundred Years of Labour, Hardie to Blair: Socialist to Centre Right, to Whatever Goes. (Ok, rant over)

After spending two hours in the library studying the Chinese Cultural History (is there an expert reading this blog? Cos I would love to talk to you!!) I needed to get the hell out of there - I also needed some food, as I've been restricting again (this sounds strange with a bag of cookies next to me. This is not healthy.) With a banana in the system I could go to my DJ lesson.

Annoyingly no one else had turned up but we still had a lesson. It was cool, I learnt how to set up decks - I could do it on my own now. I know how to scratch a record and how to do a couple of effects on sound on it. I even know what a XLR wire thingy is. I was beginning to practice mixing vinyl (I love love love vinyl) when the session was suddenly over. The lesson only cost a pound, and I'm learning so much. My teacher, Patti, was one of those hip youth workers who know about current music and swear - you know, crazy-cool tough bitches. The youth group place is one of those pre-Politics places: Chavs, Rastas, Goths, Gays, Hip-Hoppers and Non-Brainers get on in some sort of harmony. I really like it there...

On my horrid journey home (90 minutes and three buses when it should be 40 mins and two small journeys) I was thinking of the direction my life was going. Everyone I know is telling me I'm going to be a great success and change the world and be this brilliant person while they accept mediocrity. Who knows what they see? But when I think of all the things I want to do by the time I'm 60, let alone this summer - my head spins with the busyness of it all. I'm still one of those deluded women who believe they can have it all. I don't care that I'm unstable. I'm like a shark - that myth...you stop swimming, you die. Rest means I stew and I forget how to live or why I'm living in the first place, it's just no good for me.

It's just that now my mind has gone one step ahead of my psyche - unless it's the other way round...anyway at the moment I know that I'm a lot stronger in the face of depression and all that. So now, I do all of my self-harming unconsciously. Instead of agonizing over alcohol I just go and pour several drinks and by the time I'm drunk I'm trying to fight back but I'm just too damn drunk to. I don't know if that makes sense - has anyone else had that experience - moving out of your own control long enough for it to do damage to itself? Or am I just nuts? The next post shouldn't be so heavy unless I feel shit, so there. If I'm Ok, I'll be talking about why I love Murakami and Japanese fiction. Take care, people. And comment. For your karma, ahem, yes.


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