I’ve gone on a spree of Snow Patrol-et-acoustic guitar and I must say, I’m thoroughly enjoying this. I used to hate playing the guitar but after these years of playing the bass, I figured I’d give it another go (for whatever sinister reasons I have left undisclosed to my conscious self). The finger-strength and semi-callouses make it much easier to play chords. I actually think this initiative has something to do with my master plan, which involves doing many things that require almost pure memory skills to train my brain in the area that its the weakest in. Similar to my Rubik’s cube solving, I think chord (fingering and progression) memorizing helps me to use the “Hey, remember this…” parts of my brain.
I actually did a little experiment to test this theory. I played guitar on and off while I was studying for my Biology test the other night, memorizing chords and playing Everything (the song, not the noun) by Michael Bublé (basically, doing something that you wouldn’t normally choose to do with impending Biology-related doom looming up immediately ahead), and when the test came, I finished a whole half an hour before the time was up. I checked my answers and I am pretty confident I didn’t fustercluck this one up. Now, when the tests come back, I will be able to see if it actually worked.
Here’s Snow Patrol’s Spitting Games, not performed (thankfully) by me. Hit more for the lyrics.
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I broke into your house last night,
And left a note at your bedside.
I’m far too shy to speak to you at school.
You leave me numb and I’m not sure why.
I find it easier to sit and stare,
Than push my limbs out towards you right there.
My heart is bursting in your perfect eyes,
As blue as oceans and as pure as skies.
I struggle for the words and then give up.
My head’s up with the birds on the teahut.
A little peace of mind that I know better
Than the plain disgrace of all my letters.
But after that the floodgates opened up,
And I fell in love with everyone I saw.
Please take your time; I’m not in any rush.
And it’s in everything I ever write.
Its not as if I need the extra weight.
Confused enough by life, so thanks a lot.
Lonely written words for company.
Just raise the roof this once and follow me.
I struggle for the words and then give up.
My head’s up with the birds on the teahut.
A little piece of mind that I know better
Than the plain disgrace of all my letters.
- Snow Patrol, Spitting Games