BenPaddon.co.uk

A few things. Firstly my Dad, in a spontaneous fit of “Hey, I have Nothing Better To do” has put together a little webpage that counts down the days until my arrival in LA. Clearly he has more time on his hands than he would like to admit to!

Secondly, I had hoped there would be enough money in my bank account by now to cover at least a day return to Flitwick for tomorrow so I could get to work. Unfortunately there… erm… there isn’t. So I have no idea how I’m going to get to and from work tomorrow. I think I’ll walk down to the train station in the hopes that I’ll have money in my account with which to buy a ticket (you never know, it might’ve gone into my account by tomorrow morning) and if it isn’t there then… er… well, I’m buggered, I guess. Lawks, my first day of actual work and I can’t even get there.

And finally, I was thinking on my way home from work the other day (a dangerous pass time, I know…) about life, love and the pursuit of happiness. Now, I’m of the mindset that people shouldn’t let anything stand in the way of getting what they want out of life. But at the same time I’m a firm believer in the concept of love. This may not sound like a contradictory statement, but hear me out. Firstly, love makes you do stupid things. I know this because I’ve done some very stupid things in the name of love. Falling in love is comparable to being mugged. It can take you by surprise in practically any location. It leaves you feeling empty, like you’re missing something. And, of course, it can result in you losing a fair bit of money.

I remember, just over three years ago, giving up on the chances of ever falling in love, of ever being a relationship. I did. I gave up entirely, simply because I was so unhappy and so lonely for so long that I think I just became comfortable with it. I was happy to resign myself to a lifetime of lonliness and solitude, and I was only 17. 17 years old and I’ve given up on love! How stupid was I? Well, not stupid. Depressed, maybe. No, depressed is too strong. I was… lonely. I had been for a long time. I was lonely and hormonal and at a time when everyone seemed to be happy, I was wallowing in self-pity. It’s something I used to do very well, even as recently as the start of this year.

Then I met Amy and I fell in love. She apparently loved me at the time too. At the time this seemed like the single greatest thing in the world, and I still look back on those first few months with fondness. Now that’s gone, and I don’t miss Amy. No, I don’t miss her at all. For a while I thought I missed the feeling of being in love, and I had again resigned myself to an eternity of loneliness. But then, on this journey home from work, as I was listening to my iPod, a couple of Scissor Sisters songs played. This may seem like a rather simple thing to occur, but do read on anyway.

I love the Scissor Sisters. I think they’re fantastic musicians: brilliant writers of lyrics and composers of music. They’re evocative of the Beegees, of Elton John at his prime, of Queen, of a lot of great British music from generations gone. And they’re an American group, of all things. Quite superb. I was really taken with their second album, “Ta-Dah!”, from which these songs came from, despite the negative reviews I saw on iTunes for it.

I’m straying from the point here.

Anyway, “The Other Side” is a nectareous composition, a delicate song about someone in love who, when they die, will wait in the afterlife for their loved one. While I don’t really feel one way or the other about the concept of an afterlife, the clear message of the song resonated in my heart like an echo in a cave. It was followed by “Might Tell You Tonight,” another song about the early stages of love.

I smiled. They made me feel so warm (because all good music should make you feel warm) and so content, and it reminded me of a time when I felt that way about someone. It really hammered home that old “‘Tis better to have loved and lost” philosophy. It wasn’t the first time I’d felt like that listening to those songs, or indeed any song of that nature (”Song for Ten” and “Love Don’t Roam” are also very good at putting a smile on my face and bringing warmth to my heart), but it was the first time I’d really acknowledged that feeling.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I think I’m going to be alright. In fact, I know it.