DC stands for Directional Cluster-f#*%

Honestly. I know Im a night owl and my job requires late hours but this is not cool.

I want to know who designed the roads and intersections in DC? Was it designed by a group of lemmings? Look closely at the time stamp on this post. Yes, 5:10 A.M. Why? Because it took me almost an hour and a half to make my way out of the intestinal track of satan that is currently known as downtown DC. Now the gig itself went pretty well (James Hoban's; an Irish pub with a really cool staff and lots o' drinks, wa woo wee wa). My Mapquest directions led me there correctly but the last tenth of a mile was absurd. Du Pont circle is pretty much the biggest shit show of city road planning you will ever see. It looks something like this:



("Welcome to Du Pont circle, please check your mental health and well being at the first stop light")

Yeah, Imagine that steaming dump of a traffic circle with fifteen side streets that all have the same name and stop lights every 12 feet that stay red for 5 minutes and green for .06 seconds. Seriously, why do pedestrians need 45 seconds to cross a 10 foot area? Is everyone in DC quadriplegic? Are they out walking their turtles? After already being late to my gig from having to circle the restaurant 5 times around figure A to find a parking spot I was a little on edge. The 3 hours of playing music to pretty girls and fellow Irish brethren helped me quell my heart attack for while. A couple of Jameson's on the rocks didn't hurt, either. However, after the gig was over and I was packed up and headed back home I pretty much had a full on aneurism within ten minutes of trying to follow the Mapquest directions backwards. On top of having to follow the directions backward and being in completely unfamiliar territory, every road sign in DC looks like this:



So you are lost in DC. It's 2:30 A.M. Everyone is drunk and seemingly a potential threat to your well being. You see a guy puking all over the road, two people are making out on corner (not romantically but sloppily and angrily), a girl gets her heel stuck in a crack and plummets into a fire hydrant. Now these sights can be amusing and/or hilarious, but not when you don't know how to get away from such an area. And just when you think you've taken every single road and you cant get any more lost you come to this little diddy:



(so do I just get out my car?)

I almost lost it after my second attempted escape was foiled by a construction detour that led me right back downtown after 40 minutes of what I thought was proactive driving. Apparently the city was not ready to let me go just yet. My nerves were tingling, my eyes were bloodshot, and people in cars next to me appeared to be uncomfortable when they timidly glanced over at me talking to myself in my seat, rocking back and forth. Just before I became Michael Douglass in "Falling Down", by some miracle, I made it out onto the interstate. I have never been so happy to see the beltway. As of this moment, I never want to go to DC again. Am I being dramatic? Of course, that's half the fun. Actually thats all of the fun because nothing else about this was fun. Getting out of DC when you don't know how is about as much fun as using a cactus as toilet paper. Probably a little less bloody, though.

If you are reading this and you, either wholly or in part, are/were responsible for the designing of the roadways in the downtown area of the District of Columbia, please contact me at 1-800-jump off of a bridge with rocks tied to your feet.

You have a blessed day.

Emergency Songwriting

My friend Sean and I were making some food at my house. His friend-girl (not girlfriend) was planning on meeting us for some Balderdash later in the evening. By some turn of events, she texts him on his new, amazing Droid that she can't make it. It's always an unfortunate time when the prospect of being in the presence of women, in all their splendor, is impeded. So rather than sulk in the corner and spend the night playing Halo and crying in a puddle of urine (foreshadowing), we decided to try and turn the events back around. He texts back "No way, you have to come, I'm making food and I even wrote a song for you I was going to play, its called peeing in your pants". "Aww, really!?" she replies hinting that there may be hope after all. I wasn't entirely sure how a song about peeing yourself would get such a response, but whatever. It's still a shot in the dark, and more likely will just make her feel guilty than actually change her mind and decide to come over. She replies "I'll be there in fifteen". Wahuh!? We look at each other. We realize a new predicament. We have no such song. Sean doesn't want to look like a huge, lying d-bag, so that means we have fifteen minutes to write a full song, lyrics and melody, about "peeing in your pants" while still maintaining a lighthearted, slightly romantic and funny tone without being too ridiculous (assuming that would be the appropriate style for this situation). I also have never met this girl, so she may hear it, be completely offended and say "You guys are dicks" and then leave. We run upstairs, abandoning the veggie burger on the stove and we get crackin'. Sean was preoccupied guiding her, via the Droid, to the house and time was of the essence, so I scrambled to crank out some lyrics as fast as I could. My degree has finally come in handy. The lyrics go as follows:

You've got the prettiest smile
And I love the way you move when you dance
Something about your hair falling in your face makes me a little crazy
But its not as half as cute as when you pee your pants

So come a little closer
I'd like to give you a little

Tickle, tickle So I can watch you
Trickle trickle
Tickle, tickle So I can watch you
Trickle trickle

You shouldn't feel ashamed at all
It's something I can definitely overlook
Because the only thing that I really can be concerned about
Is the heavy beating heart you recently took

So come a little closer
I'd like to give you a little

Tickle, tickle So I can watch you
Trickle trickle
Tickle, tickle So I can watch you
Trickle trickle

If it would make you feel better
I don't mind clothes a little bit wetter
I never told anyone, bit I do it too, we can pee together

So come a little closer
I'd like to give you a little

Tickle, tickle So I can watch you
Trickle trickle
Tickle, tickle So I can watch you
Trickle trickle

Song Form (be careful, advanced songwriter use only):

Verse, Pre-Chorus, Chorus, Verse, Pre-Chorus, Chorus, Bridge, Pre-Chorus, Chorus

Yes, cliche lyrics everywhere, but that happens when you have to crank out a song in about ten minutes. Also I've never seen her dance, but it rhymed with pants, so leave me alone. I finish just as Sean is going back downstairs to let her in the door. He walks her up the stairs and through my bedroom door and I'm just finishing printing out the lyrics for us to read. Just as we are introducing one another, Sean goes "what's that burning smell?". Veggie burger. Fire. Death. He sprints downstairs and comes back up with something that looks like a veggie burger on one side, asphalt and charred seagulls on the other. He still ate it, though. Anyways she loved the song. Maybe we'll put up a recording of it sometime soon. In hindsight, I feel this may have been a little bit creepy to sing to a girl the first time meeting her. A very interesting way to make a first impression, but I think it was a worthwhile endeavor. I know what you're thinking. "Wow, Dylan, how much did it cost to harness such awesome skills that allowed you to write a song about peeing your pants in ten minutes!?" About $100,000 from Berklee College of Music. Dammit.

Miley Cyrus Death Metal

Usually at OBrien's on a tuesday night, there is a very, very small and quiet crowd. Sometimes an occasional bar patron will bob their head and seem to be into what Im playing. The bartenders are always great, they always give a good applause after every song. But nonetheless, its usually a quiet night for the most part, without much suprise, because its tuesday. This only one day after terrible monday, the worst day the world will ever now. The dreaded workweek is only 2/7th done, lots of pain to suffer through, so understandably, the morale of the tuesday nighters is about equivalent to the Jonas Brothers before a bare-knuckle bar fight with Jason Statham. However, last night was a little different.

A small group of my good friends came (about 10) and made OBrien's sound like a baseball game, which may or may not have been enjoyed by the manager. I'm sure he didn't mind that much when he saw the bar tab, though. I was loving every second of it. Judging by the applauses after the songs and the volume of the voices singing along, it was like playing for a family of Tazmanian devils with megaphones, every solo artists dream come true. Well, at least mine.
My dear friend Danny had a few sips of a couple beers and was Gobstoppin' (Annapolis jargon meaning "dancing") and singing opera style vocal harmonies. He's a jazz vocal major from Towson with a larger than life personality. To give you an idea, this is Danny:



(The piercings are fake)

A couple of my lovely lady friends from home, Steph and Erin, all gussied up and looking fine, made the one and a half hour journey all the way up from Leonardtown to come see me. I was quite happy about that. So they walked over and sat at the bar near the table the rest of my friends were at and began whaling away to all the lyrics of the songs also while also making the view even better. Soon after they arrived, by some strange scientific anomale, almost 30 people trickled in over the next 45 minutes. Obriens was packed with a bunch of singing, dancing fiends and it couldn't have been more wonderful.

The highlight of the night, had to be when of my friend at the table began singing along with "Party in the USA". He has a God-like volume to his voice and was screaming in death metal style "YEEEEEAAHH-EEEYAA-EEYA-EEYA, ITS A PARTY IN THE U.S. A." Now I'm aware that this glass shaking, bird-exploding, baby killing screaming (which was as loud as my voice going through the P.A.)cannot be fully described in text, but imagine M. Shadows from Avenged Sevenfold wearing Darth Vaders Helmet. Also keep in mind it was enough to make almost the entire bar stop mid- conversation in awe of what they heard.

After hearing his Miley Cyrus death metal voice, I started laughing while I was trying to sing. My attempt at trying so hard not to laugh made it even harder not to laugh, and my friends, especially Danny, whose two sips of beer had him buzzing like a neon sign, absolutely lost it and almost coughed his beer all over the table. The chain reaction spread to everyone else at the table and it just snowballed between us. I began to laugh so hard I stopped mid-song, keeled over in hysterical pain and almost fell to the floor. It was the first time in my life someone had made me laugh enough mid song to make me stop during a show. I really hope it wasn't the last, either. I finally composed myself and finished my set with half the bar singing "Wonderwall". Not my favorite song of all time, but people seem to like it.

After the show, we all headed to the famous "Double T" after an overzealous douche bag of a police officer screamed at us for standing around my car, quietly discussing plans of where to go and eating a bag of organic almonds. Then he gave Danny a stare down, as if he had just sexaully assaulted a small rodent in a public place. I guess officer douche-bag doesn't like almonds. Maybe he's having family problems. Maybe he just pooped his pants. All in all, it was a great night, definitely my favorite time at Obriens so far. Thank you guys for coming and I'm looking forward to more shows like that.



(Hey, get the hell out of here! There are no almonds allowed on this street!)

I Appreciate my Fans More and More

Although my following is still a very small one, there seems to be a slightly increasing amount of people who come out to see me from time to time. This is always a wonderful thing to see, of course, not only because it gives me a little bit of confidence in yourself (if I were atrociously, pants-shittingly terible this probably wouldn't happen) but also because (and I never really noticed this until recently) you begin to develop relationships, however seemingly minute or ephemeral, with new probably would have never known. It can be enjoyable, interesting, enlightening, maybe even strange, but I find myself sitting down during breaks or after shows and enjoying the company of my listeners more and more. It's comforting to connect with a complete stranger through a God-given medium (music)and begin mapping out each others souls over a beer and soft bar chatter. It seems to me alot of tension between strangers on the street that end in conflict seems to be linked with each person fearing something in the other. Singing along with people and then talking with them between sets gets the underlying social tension melting like snow in april.

I wanted to say thank you to all of you (every single one, and especially all my friends!) who have come out to see me at a show. I really enjoy seeing your faces in the audience and it always gives me a little rush when I see you guys walking in the door during a set.

Dylan

Wakey, wakey

So being employed as a full time musician, a.k.a. being a rockstar, I have an extremely late schedule. Waking up at and/or after noon or one doesn't make you a slacker when you work til' 1-2AM with a several hour drive back home. Anyone who says "wow, it must be nice to sleep til' noon" I would quickly reply "yeah and it must be nice to be able to fall asleep at ten P.M. and not just be just starting work.........douche". Anyways, that having been said, in the event that my blog posts are time-stamped, you may be asking yourself "why, Dylan, why would you be awake at 9:08 A.M?" If they are not time stamped, then guess what? Its 9:08 A.M. Anyways , you may be saying, "Well Dylan that's not very Rock-star of you, my grandma sleeps later than you" Well, my faithful blog reading buddy, its because I am renting from my family (which has up's-like a pool and really low rent and a living space I could never afford on my own......and down's-like being awake right now). And for the last few days and for the next few we are baby sitting some of our relatives little dog. This little dog is cute and fluffy, it is a Yorkie.



(Pwease, wuv me?)

Now before you go "AWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!" stop. This dog is not as nearly cute, and for some reason also seemingly less fluffy, when you are awoken at 7:30 AM for 4 days and counting because the dog begins to barking obnoxiously loud outside of your door when it's social anxiety disorder kicks in and it wants to get into your room. This repeated association (Pavlov, Pavlov Pavlov) of "cute little animal" with "extreme exhaustion and unhappiness" will immediately take the cuteness of it down several points on the 1 to 10 scale, possibly into the negatives. The rockstar schedule does not allow for the repeated waking up at a time when you can still catch the weather on the news. It is not a schedule that one should think about coffee and the sunrise and morning rush hour. This should all be slept through, like that skit on Saturday night live when Chris Farley is in a commercial for cold medicine that he drinks 3 gallons of and sleeps through the entire cold season. I should be sleeping through the morning grind; my cold season. But no, I am awash in a sea of torment, sitting next to a happy Yorkie, wagging its little demonic tail and smiling at me.

Song a Brewin'

Hey guys,

Its been a while since I've posted, I need to get into the habit of doing this every few days instead of sporadically. Well yesterday I finally decided to stop being a douche and put some hours onto a song I half completed. Its turning out great and as soon as I finish it, Im going to be recording it and posting it up on Youtube for all of you to see/comment/critique/enjoy. Its actually a song about Ingrid Michaelson. Now you're probably asking yourself why would I go ahead and do that? Well thats, simple; because I am stalking her. No, actually Im just really into her music and writing and I watched a few interviews with her and she seems like a really interesting person. I have a very distant dream of trying to date her. Of course this probably will never happen, but I think its a much better dream than trying to go for Katy Perry, since she seems secretly evil and is married to Russel Brant.


So this songs intention, of course, is for me to gain national success with it and her to hear and swoon like in Disney movies where all this crap starts orbiting around the head of the person who is swooning, you know what Im talking about, right?



(See, look at that face!? How could I not write a song for her?)

Anyways, when I finally crank this out, Ill post it up here and I hope you guys let me know what you think!

Snorkeling in Florida

Ok so the gigs went real well. Sorry to leave you all hanging for so long for that last one. But yeah, my grandfather is fine, my mom is fine, the bike is fine (he is still riding, he is hardcore) and we all had a great time down in Fl. I got to try para-sailing, jet-skiing and snorkeling all for the first time, which were three of the most exciting things I have ever done in my life. I recommend that everyone go out at least one time in your life and snorkel if you get the chance. Don't waste your time in the Chesapeake bay trying with the dead seagulls and jellyfish stinging you in the face; on top of its completely bland aquatic life, we've polluted that bay so bad its like snorkeling in a Porta-Potty. Next time you are on vacation somewhere where the water is clear and the fish are bright make sure you snorkel. We were snorkeling on the 3rd largest barrier reef in the world, so it seemed surreal the whole time having never seen blue water in my life and then seeing that. When you get to the real deep areas its a terrifying, beautiful experience. Watching the sea floor drop down about 50 feet and thinking about the sluggish leviathans that rule the deep will probably get your heartbeat going. Of course if you spot a shark that will work wonders, too. I actually didn't see any sharks, although I tried by swimming about 300 yards away from the group away from the barrier reef, but I saw a ton of fish I have never seen before and a couple monster size fish that were just wandering around in no particular direction. Maybe a song is in order? Oh yeah I can hear it now...."you're my sexy little fish lady swimming around with your big empty eyes and shaking your fin my way, oooo la la la"

Adventure to Key West (Part 2)

As we pass the scene of the accident by the off-ramp to a rest station, and now in a state of panic my mother picks up her cell phone, her hands shaking violently. She dials Poppop's number to make sure it was just a coincidence.......ring..............that the bike on the tow truck is another bike just like his.....ring.............and that he is safely riding his look-a-like bike a few miles ahead of us......ring.....his phone picks up. "Hello, mam, my name is Trooper Bonner with the Florida State Police". All our worst fears were confirmed in that moment. We cut across the 75 MPH traffic to the far left lane where we made a u turn a few miles down in the "Ambulance Only" U-turn through the median. We then had to pass the accident in the opposite direction and make another U turn to get back. We pulled up and all jumped out quickly. I walked over to the tow truck and started investigating the damage on the bike and the marks it left on the asphalt. My mother ran over to the squad car and started talking to the officer inside. From the scratches it looks like he must have been going 50 when he crashed...not a good sign at all. The officer told us he was at a nearby hospital, so we hopped back in the Lincoln and followed him to the hospital.

We stepped into a small room where Poppop was laying on a sterile looking bed with white sheets. He looked up at us with an exhausted smile and said something to the effect of "well, that was fun". It turns out, according to the doctor, he had no major injuries. A bruised buttock and a concussion were the only damages he incurred. For a 50 MPH crash on the side of a major highway, it was nothing short of a miracle. Trooper Bonner (almost bone-er, heh heh) walked into the room after his diagnosis and said "Hey Paul, Im going to need to ask you a few questions". As a short interrogation ensued, we stood in the room, pensively engaged at the dialogue between the officer trying to find who was at fault and our concussed Poppop. After the questioning, officer Bonner, with a slight air of patronization, made a strong suggestion to Poppop that maybe he should consider purchasing a smaller bike, as the Honda Goldwing is one of the heaviest bikes available. Poppop, even as he lay there in a hospital bed from his bike, stubbornly dodged the suggestion and retorted with something to the effect of "yeah, maybe Ill think about it"...

We met up with Zip out in the lobby of the hospital and got Poppop into Lincoln, where he instructed us we had to go back to the place where the bike was towed to inspect the damage. Im pretty sure by that point, we were all a little ready to be done with the bike, but we drove about an hour back up the way we came to see the damage. (Keep in mind we haven't even gotten to our destination yet and we had been on the road for almost 19 hours in the last two days). So after some old man grumbles and off the wall ideas of how to get it driving again, we convinced Poppop he must accept defeat and leave it. And we did. We high tailed it out of there, put him on a plane back home and we finally got to Key West at about 2:30 A.M.

I would tell you how the gigs went, but Im sick of writing.

The Adventure to Key West (Part 1)

So as some of you know my agent called me up and asked me if I wanted to play a series of shows at in Key West, Fl at Jimmy Buffet's own Margaritaville. But I wouldn't be going alone. My grandfather aka Poppop, his good ol' navy buddy Zip, my mom and her friend Janice. We decided not to fly. Now by "we" I mean "my mother" since she developed a flying phobia a fews year back. I was mostly indifferent since I wasn't thrilled with the idea of an airline making me check my guitar after I heard a horror story from a friend about a traveling musician who watched his checked guitar come around on the conveyer belt at the baggage pick up with its next broken off and hanging out of his destroyed gig case. Now with all of the luggage we would have it would be a real tight fit for the five of us, even in the SUV Linconln CR-X (with extra trunk space) we would be taking. But not to worry, Poppop and Zip would be traveling a different way. Despite my families best efforts to convince them not to, Poppop would be meeting up with Zip halfway and they would be riding their motorcycles. Keep in mind Poppop owns a Honda Goldwing. For you un-motorcycle riders, this is NOT a small bike. Well over 1,000 pounds, this baby sports AC, a radio, CD player, windshield wipers....I wouldn't be suprised if it had a sunroof and 4 wheel drive (somehow). Now, 1,400 Miles on motorcyles at 75 years old didn't make a large part of the family happy, but there is no arguing with a couple military men on a mission.

Poppop had already left more than an hour before us since he was coming from Upper Malboro about 50 miles north of us. We were coming from Leonardtown. I have to say that 6:00 A.M. is a terrible time. I would have woken up at noon and just driven the 1,400 miles non-stop, but you can't always get away with these type of all-or-nothing style scheduling when you bring family. I wish there was a Country wide decree that it is not legal for anyone to do anything at 6:00A.M. unless they are still awake from the night before. Nonetheless, my day started there. Like a malnourished POW, I shuffled to the car with my cables, guitar, clothes and thankfully, my Tempur-Pedic pillow (yes). A little morning chatter between sips of coffee amongst the husbands and wives and the three of us, my mom, Janice and I, were off to Key West.

The first few hundred miles looked like this:



Beautiful. My guitar kept my mind at bay, although at times it was hard to concentrate on what I was playing with all the beautiful scenery distracting me. (sarcasm). So hours pass and I basically take a short nap every hour or so. More than half way to the half way point, I over hear Janice and my mother talking about stopping to eat at McDonalds. Instantly I express my fervent objection to this, as I have seen "Supersize Me" and have vowed that day forth to never, ever eat anything at McDonalds for the rest of my life. On top of that, I remember being a kid on trips up north to visit family and stopping at McDonalds, only to feel like a woodchuck was giving birth in my stomach. So it took about 7 or 8 minutes to rant enough to change the choice of stop, but it was a successful attempt.



Not today, fat kids.

We got to our half way point at about 8 and stayed with their friend, Sam and her little Cocker Spaniel, Zoe. It was a quaint little beach house engulfed by large sweeping trees covered in spanish moss. It had perfectly manicured grass in the front and a figure eight shaped pool in the back, a great place for a summer escape or a break from a twelve hour drive. Poppop had finally reached Zips and would be leaving with him the next morning about an hour ahead of us.
I fell asleep immediately, at about 10, the earliest I have fallen asleep since I was in high school. Somehow by the time I wake up, even though I have assuredly fallen asleep before everyone, the house is moving with the sound of percolating coffee, soft chatter about weather, ceramic mugs clinking in a stainless steel sink. I guess there is some unspoken rule of biology that as you age, you just wake up earlier and earlier regardless of what time you fall asleep. Again, I am not really happy to be awake at 6 A.M. but the extra sleep made it a little more bearable. As we are getting ready, Sam busts out an old fashioned tape recorder so that we can play a tape that instructs us how to properly enjoy the tourist sites of Florida. Very old fashioned. We had to spend about 25 minutes opening up the back to wrap a rubber band around some of its little tape recorder gears where a belt once was. When we finally got it "working" and hit play on the tape, it was a horrible warbling you would swear was the voice of Joan Rivers in a later stage of Parkinson's or someone strangling a duck that was trying to speak English. So with our decrepit tape recorder with the intelligible instructions, we continued on our journey to our destination.

So we were a few hours into our second day (about 11AM) and I awake from a nap to hear my mother and Janice talking about the traffic report LCD warning of an accident a few miles ahead. As we pass the scene of the accident, we see the same motorcycle my grandfathers has, lying on its side, surrounded by police cars.

The Night Owl Network

You would probably never know during the day, but some of us seem to never sleep.

What is the Night Owl Network? Ever stayed up late? There you go, you've temporarily been in it.
I joined the N.O.N. sometime during my high school career as a result of destroying my circadian rhythm via late night sleep-overs chock full of Halo (yes Halo 1, when it first came out...old school), parties that went until God knows when, and fridge-raiding at my friends houses. To me, there was something so exciting about the idea of staying up so late it no longer became an option to remain conscious because of your body's daily requirement of sleep. I loved the whole idea of having to burn the midnight oil to find the most potentially exciting events of my young life. Some of my greatest memories were during sadistically late hours. After only a couple of these great nights, however, I became hooked. No longer were the late nights for just the weekends. The excitement became too strongly associated with staying up late and the next thing you know I was a night owl. I would stay up every single night. Even when everyone had gone to sleep, I persevered, often not knowing why I would continue to somber about, exhausted and alone. Computer, kitchen, TV, kitchen, computer....like some force was driving me, forcing me to stay awake as long as possible. Some nights I wouldn't even go out with my friends or to a party, I would just stay up late. I would draw or watch movies I had never seen or think of some random thing to do to fill the silent hours. The number of sunrises I would see in the years to come greatly dropped, almost to none, unless I was left with no other option than a 9-5 summer job or had to catch a plane somewhere (in which case I would simply stay up for the entire night).

In college (at Berklee) I have fond memories of walking about boston with my friend Andy, Jack Daniels, Little Stevie's Pizza at 2AM and of course, Halo (by this time Halo 3)...too many sleep cycle destroying activities to have a "normal" schedule. The biggest sleep pattern destroyer, however, was recording sessions that lasted until 6A.M. Good God these are tough. You have to try and give a perfect performance yet you are so tired you afraid you are going to burst out laughing in the middle of playing and then pass out on the floor. My friends and bandmates Al, Andy, Marty, Matt and Mike all went through these torturous night long sessions. Toward the end of it, we would begin to get slap happy and everything everyone says is for some reason hilarious. We would crank up the auto-tune and scream Cher's "Believe" into the mic....priceless.

Despite all these years of throwing myself off of balance with the rotation of the earth, I have landed the ultimate night owl career: professional musician. How perfect. We are the epitome of night owls. I will sometimes get out of a gig at 1:30 A.M. or 2:00 A.M. and have a two hour drive home. Thats 4 A.M. before I am even in my bed. That's being a part of the Night Owl Network.

As I have gotten a little older I still stay up late often, but the thrill of the night has died down, and I no longer have the fear of missing an indescribably fun time if I get in bed early or stay in. I used to get anxiety right when I tried to fall asleep almost every night. Its like my mind would all of the sudden become hyperactive and begin to think at a mile a minute....
This anxiety seems to have waned greatly and I found a few night owl secrets I have come across over the years that I would like to give some of you if you ever decide to leave the Night Owl Network:

1. Go to bed at the same time every night (even if its 3AM) really helps speed the falling asleep process.
2. Don't watch TV before bed, either!! You change your brain waves and this causes your sleep cycles to be less effective. This is a comfort thing for most people, but I recommend reading instead, you will feel better rested in the morning
3. Try stretching, yoga, or deep breathing for a few minutes before you try to get to bed
4. Take all clocks and face them away from you; when you need to fall asleep being aware of time is the worst thing you can do
5. Avoid sleeping pills at all cost! Its a last resort! I know people who CANNOT fall asleep without them, they can be very habit forming. Its better to be tired than hooked on something artificial.
6. Don't count sheep. I don't know what douche bag thought this really worked. I got to 50,258 one night. Then the sun came up.
7. Only get in/on your bed if you are about to fall asleep. This helps condition your brain to associate bed and sleep together.

I still am very much a night owl, but being such makes you easily susceptible to becoming an insomniac, which is not fun at all.
I hope some of this will help or comfort some of you night owls.

Another thing that has helped me in the past is making my self realize I am not the only one awake in the world. Anything at all helps. Thinking about people getting up for work in China, hearing the hum of a semi on a road out your window and knowing some trucker is on mile 120 en route to a delivery, remembering all the staff at the 24 hour diner you were at last sumer...anything at all to remind yourself you aren't the only person in the world who is awake can really help you rid some of that late night anxiety. At least it helped me. Anyways, what you just read is a small, hurried glimpse of the insomniac portion of my young adult life, and a song about it is in the works. This song, to be titled "Night Owl Network", is dedicated to every friend of mine who has adventured through the devils hours and lived to see the sun the next day, to everyone I have eaten with at Double T diner in Annapolis (or IHOP in St. Mary's) to all of you who have half of the late night infomercials memorized, all of you who have ever feared the digital numbers of the clock by your bed or have fallen asleep to the sound of car engines stating and birds chirping. To all you night owls out there, this will be for you.

Its about time we had some kind of anthem, don't you think?

And for all of you early birds, I wish you a friendly hello from the dark twin of the day and just remember, if you ever have trouble sleeping, never think you are the only one; some people are just starting their work day.

So, if any of you have stories of sleeplessness, or insomnia remedies to add to the list please share!

Dylan