Penny For Them

New Year. Day 3. Wee hours.

2012-01-03T01:57:00.000Z

Write here more? We'll see.
Draw more? Hopefully.

More water, and cut down on caffeine, sugar, alcohol, and cigarettes.
Stay positive (going well, but no harm renewing the more important goals)
Most of the same resolutions as I've had every year, tbh.

So what's new?

Go easier on myself? Well. That's a new one.
This semester - half of my path to a bright new future - was tough. With the play finished (sort of) I've at least got my evenings back. My part-time job will still take up two and a half days a week, but I can't afford to cut back on that.

So how else can I reclaim time for me-time? How can I go easier on myself? I must meet the demands of my course - and I always give 100%.

But.. Someone informed me my course awards a distinction for 70+, and everything else is just a pass! Discouraging, and makes me wonder if maybe aiming a little lower than I usually do wouldn't be such a bad thing... I could get 69, or 40%, and get the same diploma. Why wear myself out?

Why? Because that's what I do - how I'm wired - and how it has to be.

... Some days I wish I had the willpower to hang back. Relax, and coast through. In the end..
Oh well!

No expectations, no disappointments?

2011-10-21T22:58:00.002+01:00

Bit of a mad week, but good to know I've still an ok head on my shoulders (albeit a hot-tempered one)

I had a bit of a..disagreement.. with a lecturer regarding a grade (lost that one, which I've accepted...now!)
Then I accidentally got "elected" as class rep after a ridiculous row broke out between a different lecturer of ours, and a different class group with which we share the lecture.

Lecturer walked out; other group made a plea for us to join their crusade; my classmate who objected (well, mainly just questioned!) and was shouted down....

I said, let's get out of here and chat, just to stop the aggro, stop things escalating, and save my classmate (who was jeered on exit!)

Mess!

We agreed to stay out of it, and to appoint a class rep.
Me.

Shite! Bit of a shock, but I don't mind. Someone must.

The good news?
I'm not on my own in this! Another lad's sharing the position. (I'm very thankful for that! He missed out on the drama, and wasn't around for his "nomination", but was happy to help!

***

The stress of the week has gotten to me, though.. And this afternoon I had to leave work (with less than 4 hours left! I really tried..) Due to an aggressive, slow-building migraine that, despite my valiant refusal to go home all day, forced me to (eventually) give in.

And it drove me crazy. Shaking, and tearing up with frustration, I prayed for the wave of vomiting to hold off until I got off the jerking, lumbering, stuffy bus...and home.
It did. (For the most part)

But, instead of going home, I swallowed defiantly and stormed into the local doctors.
... Who were full up..
...Then to my local pharmacy. A very nice young pharmacist gave me some great advice and was very kind, recommended a doctor, and even gave me his name and promised to help any way he could.

My enquiry was about preventatives for migraine. Tried sanomigran as a teen - no noticeable change.
Saw the UCC Dr King of Migraines, who was very helpful, but provided a prescription for:
-a painkiller
-a triptan
-a preventative.

I already have a painkiller that, when I can keep it down, works fine. Unless the new one's impervious to being thrown up, it's no better.
Couldn't probably keep a triptan down either.
And preventatives...? First, they let me down before. Second, I hate, HATE the idea of being "on" something; on medication, daily, for life.
Third, if they don't work, the disappointment would kill me. They're only thought to help 50% of the time in 50% of the people. Plus, my trackrecord shows, time and again, I'm usually in the 50, 20, even 5% that get the dodgy side effects and minimal success. (Generall pattern in my life! Ha..)
.. It just feels weird.

But.. Enough is enough. I have to try these yokes again. If they fail me, at least I've seen it coming and won't be too heartbroken.

And I shouldn't be ashamed of going on medication. Sure, fuckin' hell, how many times have I said to other people: it doesn't change who you are, it's something you'll need to accept to be happy...
(Or stuff along those lines.. Loads!)

Why are we always more critical of ourselves?

Time I woke up to that myself. Migraine is said to be almost on par with epilepsy, in some ways, in terms of how disruptive it can become. (Well, I'm just quoting that... Personally I'd say epilepsy is FAR worse)... It ISN'T something I can pretend away anymore. 10-13 years of this! I'll still be the hot-headed, accidental achiever I've always been. I'm gonna have that 2year old prescription re-issued and, for the first time, FILLED.

I just hope I can find a good one, and.. MOST importantly.. remembering to take'm every day!

Down.... Get out!

2011-10-04T12:48:00.011+01:00

I shouldn't feel crap right now, but I do. So much so that I have one of those stressy headaches. The ones that, at first, feel like a migraine (scaring me silly) but turn out to be just a reasonably bearable nuisance.

Technically, I'm more "happy" than I've been in a long time. After a year "out" (working), I've returned to college for a postgrad. And in IT, of all things! It's fantastic, very interesting so far, and full of nice people. Great Modules: Java Programming, a bit of Web Design, and - who knows - might be sucked back into the online world and start tending to this poor aul neglected blog again.

We'll see.

And I have a lovely new home, lovely new area, lovely new leather boots... Lots of "new"-ness. Fresh - exciting - hopeful - engaging - refreshing - etc. I feel like things are finally moving again. A stagnant year is over, and I only realised how discouraged and defeated I had been feeling when it hit me that I didn't have to wake up for WORK on Monday mornings anymore... but something far better.

Day 1 Journalism:
"50% of you won't make it to final year"
"Of those that do, most will have to move abroad for jobs"
"Of those that even get into journalism at all, very few will ever make a living wage on it alone"
(^pre-recession, btw!)

Day 1 Grad Dip in IT:
"Most of you might get offers before you graduate. Employers come to the graduation too, looking for CVs, but by then it can be too late."

In fairness, those journalism "facts" didn't turn out to be very accurate (we pretty much ALL got to final year, and a good chunk of my ex-class are working in the media and doing pretty impressive stuff. I'm not, but I was always a bit of an oddity.)
But, all the same, isn't that a reason to be happy? Isn't that enough to reassure me that I won't be an aimless drifter forever? That I can play it by ear, with confidence, from 'ere?

I read somewhere (?) that people have a certain "happiness level" that they default to, regardless of whether they win the lottery or land their dream job. It explained why money doesn't make people happy, etc. I worried about that for a while.
But... it's not exactly true. So, I stopped worrying about that, and started wondering why exactly it is that I'm unhappy now.

It's not work. (My reduced hours have helped me find a new enjoyment for the job)
It's not college. (It's only week 2 - but I love it)
It's not fear of not getting a job. (I'm on a good track)
It's not my relationship. (well, I hope not. We have little things to work on, but they're little. And nothing a good aul pow-wow won't fix next time we've a free evening.)
...?

But... my friends are all leaving the country. (Those that haven't left already, that is) My brother, and sister, and oldest friend, are gone now too. My other best friend's been gone over a year.
Those left in Limerick? I never see'm. I'm working every weekend.
I miss them all, terribly, and maybe that puts strain on my relationship, too. Suddenly, maybe, it feels like he's all I have; I'm putting more pressure on things to be "right"; I'm scared more when things aren't.
But it's more than that...
It's that I can't go!
The promise of a sure-thing at the end of my IT tunnel is both a huge reassurance, and a very, very scary realisation:
I never got my year out.
Never lived or worked abroad.
Never even went on Erasmnus ffs! Or J1. Or Interrailling.

**********************************

...Oh COME ON.

I've moaned and panicked for years that I'll never have a career, never decide on something cos I enjoy so many different things, study forever and try loads but never realise my potential, etc etc.
Now that there's some hope I'm moaning even more? Job = money. THEN I can travel. New career = new friends AND money, AND holidays I can use to visit my old ones.

Snap out of it!
Time to get out of the house.

Or...at the very least... out of my jamas.

New, and altogether different

2011-09-12T10:55:00.007+01:00

Broke. Scraping by. Over-worked. Stressed. Sick. Chain-smoking. Living on caffeine and 20min naps in the (less interesting) lectures..... Some of the many things I DON'T miss about being a student.
(well, the naps were pretty nice, actually...)

And yet, this day two weeks, that's exactly what I'll be once again.

One of my old DIT lecturers popped into my shop the other day, picking up a repair for his wife, and smilingly said, "Studentdom is wasted on the students. You'll appreciate college so much more this time."

Hope so.

The course I'm doing is open to all sorts: geeks who fell into jobs and finally want formal qualifications; geeks who've been fiddling with their own computers for years and finally decided to study IT formally; and geeks who were a little misguided on their choice of undergrad (i.e. me) and want a chance to ctrl+y the whole college thing... Like any postgrad, and unlike an undergrad, we're all going to be at different ages, stages, levels of experience...

I just hope I'm not gonna be the dunce in the corner! Much as I've always been interested in computers and all that, tbh I'd be exaggerating to even call it a hobby. Hell, since teaching myself quick, proper typing as a kid, and then basic html in my pree-teens (to build fansites for pokemon, etc, that never made it online..!), I haven't done a damn thing. That's over a decade. My myspace page, a brilliant practice-ground, has been gathering dust for what feels like millennia, and this blog? Well. You can see how often I update the content - let alone the decorative script. Tech-Aoife is someone I haven't seen in a LONG time. She's more than just rusty, she's practically fossilised.

So, I'm worried I'm too out of touch. Too far behind. I don't want to be slower than the others. I don't want to be blatantly struggling. I'm usually "the weird, slightly cold-at-first, nerdy girl"; I don't want to be "the weird, totally in-over-her-head, ditzy girl". Christ. Not in a classroom full of people who could've fuckin' written the course itself (and just need the cert. to prove it...) I feel inferior, hugely inferior, to people I haven't even met yet.

This is stupid.
What am I on about?
Like everything new, this is daunting. Even... scary. But I pick things up quickly enough, I'm interested (I must be - I chose it over every other course i could find - not for the title, but for the modules themselves), and being interested means I'll be at an advantage straight away. It's something I've always been interested in, and faffing around with journalism for four years doesn't make me an airy-fairy arty type who won't be able to grasp the tough stuff. On the contrary, I'll be shorthanding my notes and kicking ass with my essays and finding the theory-side a piece of cake, leaving more time to study and absorb the more alien info. Yeah!

It'll be fine.
*breathe*
Whew...

All I can do is my best. And it'll be grand. (So long as the money doesn't run out...) Roll on studentdom, brokedom, over-workedom, stressdom, (and all the other doms)... Things have been static, stagnant, for too long. At least this is a change. And, whether change is good or bad... at least it's something.

Burgled! (also hello hello, been a while, etc)

2011-06-02T16:22:00.009+01:00

Nothing major stolen from me. I haven't much worth stealing, it seems... An unopened perfume/make-up gift set I'd just gotten that looked valuable, some electrical items.... And a hat. (Which I imagine was used to prevent leaving prints as it was tossed outside by my back door). My housemate, however, lost laptop, camera, etc... Poor guy.

Landlady got an earful (seeing as it was entirely her fault) and agreed to take a chunk off the rent to make up for the fact I've been (a) robbed and (b) essentially been homeless for a week and a half. BUT my window's now been fixed, and new more secure bars go up tomorrow. I may then feel comfortable staying here again. I miss my room, but couldn't very well expect to sleep soundly with my window hanging by one hinge and only a bike-lock between me and the burglar's return.

The gardai who came to have a look around and take fingerprints gave us one piece of advice: Move.

Evidence of rats (and human-rats) hanging around outside our back door, bad plumbing (filthy)... But mainly because we are so completely exposed at the back of the house. The bars will help make the place more "secure" but, 'though we won't have another break-in, they will hinder a speedy exit in case of fire (actually, they'll make it near impossible, but that's a worry for another time)

So, move I shall. Not right now, but soon enough.

But where to? This prime-positioned but grotty home of mine may be convenient for work and everything but, come late September, Northside may be a better location as I'll be spending most days of the week doing my new course.
Yes. After a year working aimlessly, I'm going back to school again. I.T. this time. Should be fun!

Why I.T.? It just happened that way... I finished my thesis, FYPs and all the related rubbish this time last year. Done. I then went into a kind of hibernation - working away, minimum wage, pretending the epiphany would strike any minute and/or I'd be poached from my shop and whisked away onto the first rung of the career ladder of my dreams. Any minute now...!

I just went to work and wasted the months away; daydreaming, but not doing. Once fed up with that, I started trawling through course after course online...
Masters, Post-grads... Even brand new BAs... Evening courses, Part-time courses, Internships, Everything. I even looked into the possibility of packing it all in and going back to study Art! (Which is what my very talented little sister is doing, despite the fact I was the more "arty" child...)

I don't envy her achievements and plans; I chose the path to here, and am happy with that. What I do envy, however, is her certainty. She knows what area is hers, and even where within it she'd like to get to. A talent I lack.

I decided against the art thing. I didn't want it badly enough first time around, and I don't fancy investing another, what, 3-4 years in something I'm just doing for the sake of a pre-teen whim I've long grown out of. Once upon a time, it was my "thing". Not anymore.

I looked at courses in publishing, media, script writing, editing, radio, tv production, and all sorts of semi-related crap. Most seemed interesting. None seemed right.

I then saw an article on a website praising conversion courses - the handy way to re-route your studies with a short, practical, graduate-only course.

*click*

I.T.? Hmm... ok... just to see...

*click*

When the page loaded up, a list of modules appeared. All were subjects I've often wondered about, always wanted to learn more about, but never did. All were covered in one, fabulous year. I sent the deposit away today. It's official.

As for moving? The bars will buy me some time. I've been asking myself whether I'm ready to move in with himself yet or not. The dust is settling here, slowly, and my room and home will be my room and home again soon enough. When I can think straight once again, I suspect it won't be a tough decision.

Let's hope I don't procrastinate long enough to burn to death, 'though.

Appalled

2011-03-15T22:18:00.004Z

So, was away in Kildare on a training day today for work. Interesting, I guess.
No, I liked it.

On the train there, 'though, first thing this morning...

Well, firstly, I have a bit of a cold. A nasty sort of one where your nose just...doesn't...stop...running...

I took a tissue from my bag and, discretely as possible, in my own empty train booth, blew my nose.

A "lady", in the booth across the aisle (about a meter away), bowed her head, held her hand to her face, winced in an OTT dramatic way, and then returned, frowningly, to her reading.

I thought maybe she had a headache...?

Minutes later, I started quietly honking again. Low and behold, she repeated her ritual.

It struck me... about the difference in opinion on what constitutes ignorance/rudeness.

We were equally appalled by each other.

Her, by my audible illness. Me, by her very deliberate display of disgust at something I couldn't help.

The training day was nice, 'though. Jotted down a few interesting points that came up so I could share them at work. Hope they're helpful to others too.

Back

2010-12-27T03:41:00.003Z

Well... I've come out of hiding.
And hiding is exactly ALL I've been doing since finishing college back in May.
I got a 1st. Woo. And a degree I should be proud of.
And I am. Christ, I'd be stupid not to be. Like all my classmates, I'd a tough aul four years. Nice to see it end. And sad. But mostly...inconvenient.

Why?

Because the plan was always: School => College => Blank. The blank was to fill itself once I got to it - like coming upon a clearing in misty woods (or some poetic bollox like that)... Everything, once a fogged blur, would come into focus: Paradise! The end of the road. The goal.

But, instead, I'm living in the Blank. Surrounded by Blank. I feel like a hamster who just fell off his wheel. Years of running, giving it my all... Lying on the ground, dazed now, looking back to realise I'm no further than when I started.

I've done nothing since May. Nothing of use, anyway. Plenty of fun and stuff (and still working full-time in retail) but, bleurgh, I need to dust the cobwebs off my brain and LEARN or DO. Or... just THINK even.

Well. I had an idea that the hiding and the avoiding and the *try-not-to-think-about-the-blank* would all be shaken off after a holiday: London! 10 days this summer. Lovely. No good, though.
So I thought: A week over Christmas! That'll be the time I need to set things right in my head and get motivated to A) research my options B) get off my arse and do something, and C) stop being afraid.
(Not necessarily in that order... C, I'd imagine, would come first)
Christmas is over now and I've work tomorrow. And the holiday didn't bring the epiphany I'd expected......

It did, however, give me time to relax... To think about what I want from a job (within whatever career path I eventually settle on), and what I want to do next with myself. (Drinking and scratching my arse is getting old.)

I finally (finally - for the first time in my life) turned on, tuned in, and got online to look at postgrads. *gasp*

That mammoth step took just a few measley minutes. And it changed everything.

I've a few ideas now. Only vaguely relating to my undergrad degree (if at all) but who gives a flying fuckwit?
I like the sound of one or two of the courses on offer. And one, in particular, sounded really fascinating: computery and technical and fun twiddly solo work. Just what I like.

What I want from a course:
= For it to be 1 or 2 years only - any more's too big a comittment for me after just having served 4.
= For it to be in Dublin.
= For it to be different, difficult, and open new and DIFFERENT potential NextSteps
= For it to involve(even just a pinch of an element of) creativity.

What I want from a job(when I grow up):
= For it to be challenging, fast-paced, demanding.
= For it to be (even just a little) interesting. (Even just at first.)
= For it to treat me as well as I will treat it. I want a job that I WANT to work hard at!

When I find my job, I want one I sort of hate a bit, but one where I'm tempted to stay late, work through lunch, take it home with me, dream about it... That's the sort of job I'll work well at. I'm lazy when I'm not under pressure. Well, not lazy, but certainly not at my productive best.

If a job could match me, overwhelm me, challenge me, it wouldn't matter what discipline, what sector, what I was doing at all.

Anyway, as I may have written earlier, I've work tomorrow. But I'm in a place at the moment where I need to do a lot of thinking, and that means talking to myself, which is fun on here. So...

I'm back, blogland. Hear me roar.

As for this blog?

2010-07-09T00:33:00.002+01:00

As for this blog?

I'll probably leave it lying here, or save it somewhere, for the sake of perusing a few memories on some distant, bored, future day... but for now, I can't imagine being here very often. My visits, posts, enthusiasm, has fizzled out.. Any following I once cultivated I've completely neglected for the last god-knows-how-many months.

I started this thing in 1st year. I'm done now; no more to say.

Except...

As hard as the four years were, they were great. I'm glad I worked part-time straight through the years, exhausted and barely scraping by... because I paid my way and that feels really fucking good to say. And maybe it was easier for those with loans/living at home... but maybe not either. We all had our own distractions, it wasn't an easy 4 years, and I loved hearing that everyone did well... Even if I am pretty sure I won't have much contact with any of them beyond the grads - which is my own fault, entirely... I was too wrapped up in my self/work/stress/other to make the effort I should have, except sporadically, and that's not enough... In fact,when I did try, I think it was just a bit weird, in retrospect... Popping up for a group-night-out thing once every 6 months then disappearing again.

Whatever.

All in all, a nice bunch. Maybe it isn't too late. Or maybe paths will cross amach anseo.

I'm glad I missed lectures from being hungover/shattered after long Conradh nights... It got me mad-cool marks in Irish, and opened up a whole new world to me... I'm glad for everything. Even the really, really stupid stuff I did.

College really was... pretty great.

Monumental

2010-05-19T19:08:00.003+01:00

I'm preactically finished college, about 99.99% finished. I feel like I should mark the moment with a post here. But I don't really know how I feel.

[_] Scared.
[_] Relieved.
[_] Free.
[_] Lost.
[_] Aimless.
[X] All of the above.

I've never been a great one for plans. It's better to just see what happens, watch where the flow's taking you, react, and take it from there.

I had a vague idea, though... It went: School, College, Blank.
The blank was meant to fill itself.

It hasn't.

So, now blank seems to = Work... for now. In a job I'm lucky to have and...well... could it be forever..? Could it be a route worth taking? There's a great Optom course in DIT... Familiar ground and everything...

New plan, then?
Wait and see.

Tbh, I can probably afford to bide a little time. So, I'll save and save and think and think and then...God knows what I'll do. It'll hit me some day soon.

And if not - what's the fucking hurry anyway?

For the first time in 4 years, I have time to read again! ^_^ Draw, play video games, paint, go for long walks, maybe do a bit more stand-up...whatever the fuck I want.

I bloody fucking managed to do it! ... I DID IT.

2010-04-23T11:57:00.011+01:00

I did it. Dissertation in, radio sorted. Life is manageable again. I KNEW the universe wouldn't let me down.
I knew I wouldn't let me down.
And the Dropkicks last night were effin' brilliant. I caught a guitar pick!

Time to start doing myself justice, 'though. As soon as I've recovered from these two consecutive (and painful) all-nighters, I'm straight back in - head first - to make the most of the little college that's left.

I got an award this week (that's apparently been sitting in a box for a while now, having been awarded at a ceremony I couldn't go to - and no one told me!!) and I was thrilled about it. It was for "outstanding contribution" to a college society over the four years I've been here. Delighted.

Then I found out that, this Monday, I'm being presented with another: the Chairperson's Medal for my "outstanding contribution to college life". Again, it's for all the societies stuff I did. Similar - but sounds to be a much bigger deal. I didn't even know such a thing existed. Socs office nominated me.

Whether it's deserved or not, it's certainly flattering. There are 10 medals in total and, when I heard who else was nominated, I was gobsmacked that the socs office thought I was up there with them: People who've worked their arses off and really made a huge difference, people who've set up hugely successful societies, people who've powered through college despite crazy hectic outside lives, people who've done amazing things...

I dunno if I've done "amazing" things for socs, but it feels amazing to have won something like this. I'll be honest... I've, genuinely, spent the last few months doubting my choices... wondering if my priorities were a bit fucked up going through college... wondering if I should have concentrated on the course more than all the other shit I got sidetracked with... wondering if I'd spent four years here working hard at wasting a whole lot of time.

But the shit I got sidetracked with was amazing shit. It was worthwhile shit. It was the best possible kind of shit. And it's that shit that I'm going to take with me from my college experience... and cherish forever.

When our Cumann Gaelach was awarded the "Most Improved Society" award in my second year of college, we got through to BICS - the national final. There was a guy there who'd won "Best Individual" in DIT, and who'd just gone on to win "Best Individual" nationally. Basically, it means he was, by far, the hardest working individual person in any college society in the country. He certainly was. Everyone knew it. He helped make something magical out of the already brilliant Drama Soc. And he was involved in every other aspect of college life too. And studying full time. And doing everything else you could possibly imagine. Think "impossible amount of achievement"... now, double it.

I remember talking to him... Barely. I was "interviewing" him, both of us propping up the bar, drunk as skunks... I wrote down his answers in the margins of the awards ceremony brochure... Scrabbling together a few quotes for my report in the DIT News was tricky; my usually illegible scrawl is even worse when I'm drunk.

But I got one good quote out of it. And a damn good one at that.

"If you're not involved in a society you're not going to college, you're going to class."

Here here.

Hmm.

2010-04-20T05:21:00.002+01:00

I thought for certain I'd become a mad hermit for these weeks - crawl deep into my work and block all out; Obsess. And get it done.

But I've spent plenty of time with him . He offered help and I took it; ignoring my usual pride, vanity, stubborness, control-freaky-osity... I asked him for help. He was a brilliant help. And good at it. Every call he made was good. It's nice to know, too, that he understands the inner-workings of it all a little better. I can share that, for the first time.

And, best and strangest of all, I've let him in.

Standing Up... for the impossible.

2010-04-15T16:11:00.005+01:00

"You're not actually doing this...?"
My friends couldn't believe me when I told them I was going to do it.
They certainly didn't think I'd be able to do it.

Can't possibly make people laugh?

Can't possibly write my dissertation in less than a week?

Watch me.

Exactly 2 weeks.

2010-04-08T01:53:00.007+01:00

Exactly two weeks and it's hand-in day. Jesus H. Christ.

Thousands have gone before and managed it, must remember that, must keep saying that. No way in hell I'm the LEAST organised person to ever finish this course. Nor the least able. Far from it.

2 weeks - 336 hours, right? And I'm more than able - and willing - to run on the minimum amount of sleep. Or none, I'd imagine, nearing the end.

Don't ask me how I fell so far behind. But, fuck it, if there's one thing I'm good at it's last-minute, quality cramming. Aoife McCrammy-Ryan. Old habits die hard and I never genuinely expected any less - even if it IS final year, even if it IS the dissertation... It's how I do things. And I've scraped by fine so far.

Breathe.

We'll all do fine. Or, at the very least, we'll all get through it.

Breathe.

And my reward? What I'm most looking forward to? Not the degree I've lost enthusiam for, not a fun-filled summer, not a breather from the weight of work and stress of it all.... No. My brightest light at the end of the tunnel is...
...

That's right. The night of the 22nd it'll be me, the boy, the Bucky, and the Dropkick Murphys. Win, Lose or Draw; that will be a damn good night.

Hell. Fucking. Yeah.

Goodnight... tomorrow begins the marathon...

No Escape

2010-04-05T18:02:00.005+01:00

On holliers from all my jobs... All of them. One month of nothing. Nothing. Christ - I can't stand it.

It's probably been about 3'na half years since I'd this much damn time off. Nowhere to rush to. No mad work schedule (with bleak hours of study crammed in wherever possible; never a minute of "free time" without that hanging guilt of procrastination...)

I quit to create time to do my Dissertation, y'see... To finish my research and write it all up; leather-bound and beautiful by the 22nd. Also, the radio project needs finishing (a documentary on how Stand-Up Comics start out - with my very own performance coming up on the 13th. Yes. I'm really doing it. God help us all.)

But, even 'though it's a lot of work, I feel...idle. Helplessly idle. Without the pressure of work and lateness and lack of time to do college work, it's been impossible to do college work.

What's that expression? "If you want something done, ask a busy person"...? That's just it. My momentum's gone. And there's no escape into work or rehearsals or society work or... anything. Seems it was easier to get assignments done when all I had were those tiny, designated, rare windows.

I took this time off to work solely on college: final stretch of final year, get it done! I thought I needed time...
But I'm going insane with endless empty hours... to fill as I please...

Ah well... I'll just have to get used to it.

Almost...! Graaaah!

2010-03-04T11:58:00.005Z

I think I'm getting there. If I can't come out of today with a solid plan for this dratted dissertation, then I may as well give up. Today. Obsessively. I must sort it out.

Everyone's started collecting data already and have been workin' away for a month or so, as I've been wrestling with my research plan and scrambling to pinpoint some basic fucking idea of the direction for the thing.

But I think I've almost got it.

It all has to come down to Today. It has to be Today. I want to go to sleep tonight happy that I know what the hell I'm doing.

In other news... Other proj's are going swimmingly. Suspiciously so. But whatever.
And I'm still utterly smitten - more-so every day.
And life is good. (Except for dissertations and research topics. All else; good.)

Write what you love...

2010-03-01T02:58:00.003Z

This isn't it.

What am I doing? Fuck this college stuff. But won't shy at the last hurdle. Gonna do it. And do it well.

And, on a vaguely related note, something (wonderful) happened that I, at first, thought would scupper my final year successes (...when you least expect it, they say...) But, bad timing or no, I couldn't be more delighted that it happened. Whenever it happened. So long as it happened.

And... I have found it hard to stop smiling all month. Everything else may be demanding, stressful, difficult... but this has been effortless. Uncharacteristically, and ideally, I feel neither threatened nor desperate to sabotage. Everyone says it's supposed to be hard - and I believed that. And I saw it, from experience, to be true. But it's not meant to be hard.
It's so deliriously easy.

A whole new direction entirely?

2010-02-20T19:06:00.004Z

What of Dublin? Do I stay or do I go? Is there any point being there? Certainly more of a point than being in Limerick. I never felt home in Limerick... and can't imagine uprooting all over again...

I'm tempted to stay put - it's easier to imagine. But I'm restless, too. And people keep asking asking asking - What are your plans for next year? My response of "I haven't any" gets pricklier every time..

I've gotten along fine 'till now favourong impulses over plans. So, fuck it, that's what I'll do this time too. Play it by ear. I feel that prickle of annoyance subsiding already.

Everyone has an opinion, 'though... You should travel. You should work for a while and think about it. You should do a masters.

I'll do what feels right when the time comes. And, for now, enjoy being where I am.

Great Coffee...

2010-02-03T18:55:00.005Z

... can turn a bad day into a great one... a highly unproductive mood into a hopeful one... an anxious tummy into a happy one... and a grey city scene into something of gobsmacking beauty.

Try an americano in The Bald Barista at the Avalon house. Has to be black. Thick as tar, and tastes of burnt chocolate ashes, or something.

A Good Time

2010-01-20T00:21:00.004Z

I like to believe that people – most people, anyway – aren’t deliberately cruel. I believe that, like me, they only treat other people badly when they can justify it to their self-involved selves, or forget to be considerate, or just… neglect to think about it at all. And even when someone IS deliberately cruel, there’s some reason. Maybe not a GOOD reason, but maybe enough for them. Maybe you just caught them at a bad time. Maybe their shit’s hitting the fan in another area of their life and their tolerance is down. Maybe being pleasant is too much work that day.

Justified negligence of the ‘right thing’. I readily forgive that trait in myself… Haha, not that it registers… It doesn’t even make me flinch most of the time (‘till afterwards when I weigh up its worth). When I really feel like I’m justified, who can convince me otherwise? But it’s harder for us to forgive it in others. Maybe because it’s much easier to internally convince yourself something’s ok to do/doesn’t matter/isn’t THAT bad. Or to convince yourself that you just don’t really care, at all. We all do it. All the time.

But, from the outside, it’s more obvious that you’re being a shit and, no matter how many excuses you come up with, it’s probably inexcusable.

Maybe being a shit just comes naturally… to everyone… sometimes… and maybe it’s about pushing yourself t’wards self-control.

Or maybe, like everything else, it’s all about timing and circumstance.
Timing and circumstance control your destiny, if there is such a thing. Unless you can control them, you can’t control anything. And… you can only ever really control them to an extent.

Love, hate, rivalry, mercy, charity, faith, wealth, choices, success, first impressions… Timing and circumstance rule it all. Even your mood. Even who you ‘are’.

I left my favourite scarf in Cork on New Year’s Eve and my friend, who I was sure would forget all about it, got it safely back to me.

And then (subsequently, promptly) I lost it. And it occurred to me that, if he HAD forgotten it, and still had it, unreturned… I’d be irked somewhat, but basically would still have a scarf. But now it’s gone forever.

Which has nothing to do with anything. But it was a funny thought.

Like missing a plane that crashes. Or never getting to know that person. Or applying for a job at JUST the right time. Or the introversion and imposed loneliness that comes with forgetting for a while that your life is, in fact, so much bigger than just you (and that it takes work to keep it that way… work you can’t cram in at the end…)

Or, losing your scarf.

Snow in the City

2010-01-06T23:16:00.027Z

It was beautifully snowy in Dublin today. This winter's been snowier than I've ever seen in my life. At home in Limerick, it was the first white Christmas we've ever had.

Dublin shut down today. (City of drama-queens...) Shops and pubs and everything closed and the buses stopped - everything screeched to a standstill. (It's just a little snow! The rest of the country shrugged and got on with it, but when Dublin's slippery, the world stops!)

Sigh. Anyway. Seeing as College, like most everything else, was closed, and I had nothing better to do... I grabbed my camera and headed for a walk.

Here are my faves:

Enjoy! ^_^
(If you wanna see the rest, see here: X)

The Days of Dial-up

2010-01-04T03:43:00.005Z

I’m having flashbacks. My new meteor broadband plugin USB yokey is sheer shite. Reminiscent of dial-up frustrations. It’s bullshit, like. What should have taken no time at all (uploading pics to FB and finding a map to where I need to be tomorrow) has taken hours. Balls to this.

Dial-up… god wasn’t it awful? The internet was a place for those with plenty of patience, and a high threshold for annoyance and despair. Clicking the same link 50 times, knowing it would only slow things further, but doing it anyway…. to SPITE it.

Back then, ‘though, I practically lived online. Insane. Back when I was a gamer too, and had taught myself a little html, and knew all the lingo… I fit in quite nicely in the e-world. I was a “reg” in several rooms across the net... a triumph, in my young, lonely eyes. I was even subject to (what I now suspect was) "grooming" (but was far too shy for it to ever have worked - haha.)

Then I suddenly got a life (IRL) and all changed.

Now, even with Twittering, FB and blogging sparsely… it’s NOTHING to the hours, days, months I accumulated in various chatrooms, online forums, etc. Now I almost feel like a tourist or something. I’m only ever just passing through. The only on-line communities I’m part of are made up of real-life communities and friends (apart from blogging, which I really, really wish I had more time to give to - but I don't at the moment. Must make more time...)

And a part of me might miss those square-eyed sessions, telling strangers what I could tell no one else and knowing it’d never matter… There's something lovely about that. But...

Me and the net have grown apart. Gone our separate ways. And, like with many old, faded friendships; I don’t recognise it anymore. We still talk, but… well, y’know.
I suppose, this, where I am now, is the real triumph.

Clumsy? Me?

2010-01-02T04:45:00.004Z

After a nice new year's dinner with parents and couple of family friends, sitting around playing pictionary. (Cute!) I pour myself a glass of wine (my FIRST) and take a sip. Then it's our turn.

I reach for a pencil... and my elbow grazes my glass, making it wobble slightly.

Panicked, my cat-like reflexes kick in and I lunge to grab for it... swinging it off the table with the back of my hand. On my second attempt I sorta swing an upper-cut at it in mid-air, making it spin and splatter all over my sister, before it crashes to the ground.

Slick.
And I couldn't even blame the wine as I hadn't but a small sip drank.

I can only hope my reflexes are as quick if I'm ever attacked. I'll spot the villain wobbling out the corner of my eye, and have him dazed on the ground in seconds.

On the other hand...if a friend was ever to slip suddenly, say, and I end up back-handing and thwacking them in the face...that would be less helpful.

Numb

2009-12-30T18:36:00.002Z

Watching stupid top kerrang hits of the '00s. I forgot how in love with this song I was.

Released 2003?
Impossible.

Hear about Rage getting the Christmas #1 in Britain? (#2 in Ireland - we're just less cool, I guess! Still, wouldn't it be AMAZING if it were included on all the christmas compilation albums from now on? hehe. Also, apparently sweet li'l Joe was "delighted" to have reached the "New Year's No.1" in Britain. Smiles and publicity. Wait, I'm sorry, but I've never, ever, EVER heard talk of a new year's chart before......)

Aaaanyway... at a recent (brilliant) house party, had an argument with a canadian guy over when rage's masterpiece originally come out/was popular.

"It's funny how it got big around the time of the twin towers.. there's more to that than people realise, I think," says he..

"No dude... It was out WAY before then. I remember listening to it when I was 14"

"Uh, Yeah! In 2001, right?"

I thought for a secs......
"Fuck..."

Ok, the dude was still COMPELTELY wrong* and a bit of a conspiracy loon, but the point is, I can't believe how long ago that was. Watching the planes on TV. 8'n'a bit years ago!? Insane.

Time does fly.

*('twas released on MY BIRTHDAY back in '92, fyi! ^_^)

Holidays

2009-12-30T16:24:00.002Z

The longest I've been home in about a year and a half. Any not nearly long enough. Never enough time!

New Years.... what to do with it. Tbh, I'd almost stay in; it's too much hassle dressing up for a letdown. Still...could be fun.
Aaah, I'll find something. Creeping up quicker than expected, 'though. Best get act together. Get organised. Hurry.

How the hell do people decide what's important? Priorities... What's important to me? Everything! I want everything.
There just isn't enough time in this life for everything.

My mum didn't find her career for a very, very long time. I'll probably end up the same. Which is ok.

Oh just stop worrying and enjoy it for Christ's sake.

Speak of the devil!

2009-12-06T16:17:00.005Z

RE: last post

OMG, loike! Thanks to an ol' buddy of mine I found one of those typical (and absolutely enthralling) trashy internet arguments I was JUST talking about! (And it's a good one.)

Come on in, the bullshit's steaming!

^_^

Coursework... yeah...

2009-12-06T14:51:00.008Z

I'm meant to be working on an important, scary, nowhere-NEAR-finished presentation (which, by the way, is to be ready, rehearsed, and really impressive... BY TOMORROW)

I got sidetracked. And I'm finding some absolute e-gold. E-xcellent.

This ('though an old vid) made me snort with laughter:

This is amazing, and in Dublin! Look at the rest too. No joke. They're class.

One of the other protesty pics caught my eye;
"Huh... a protest against video games?"
Intrigued, went to find out who the mentallers were...
*gasp* It was EA! Staging a fake protest! Scannal! Couldn't effing believe it. And had a good laugh at this, which has a little bit about the aftermath...
And, on that page, I rambled down to the comments... And remembered why I love the internet.
I mean, look at that mad angry argument!

Reading through it, found this super-snarky gem:

"Hey guys, there's a whole lot of scholarship on this issue. You might want to peruse some of it - you know, the parts that aren't in make-you-feel-better-for-being-a-smart-atheist documentary form - before making wild irrelevant generalizations.

And the cross is an "ancient death symbol?" Yeah, no shit, because they fucking nailed people to them."

The same extremist, to-and-fro arguments break out on a billion threads every day. Everyone on the net is up for a fight. Imagine real life being as volatile... everyone would have to be drunk all the time or something...
And, ok, this story was bound, obviously, to start such. I understand that...
But how did THIS cutsey thing get a vicious political debate started?

Really?

See?

2009-12-01T03:55:00.004Z

This is exactly why I've been so reluctant to buy a wireless USB thingie.
True, it makes college work easier, email more accessible, saves on paying for internet cafes... all very good, yes?

Ah, but you see... it's 4am... and here I am.

I've been googling the Dublin Hellfire Club* (freaky shit right there), as a dude in work has organised a trip there late this Friday. Eep.

At least two of the lads are going dressed as ghostbusters. Hell yeah.

Shhh - Yes I know I have college stuff, and the play, and all that jazz, but dya honestly think this is something I was gonna miss?

*why that link? well, it's the first article i read that really sparked a thirst for more. wikipedia's too dry-shite-y and reasonable - it's the hearsay and crap that makes this ooggy-boogy stuff fun.

Frazzled

2009-11-25T01:53:00.004Z

Working on my law assignment, got a text from a classmate asking what time tomorrow it was due... (it's 2am, so by tomorrow I mean today)

Here's the jist of the answer he got;

I can't be sure.. all the handout says is "on or before Wednesday 25th", but it then goes on to say that "late submissions will be penalised as per the Course Handbook", which suggests the deadline must be what the course handbook defines it as, ie. 4pm on the given date. But you could probably argue that it was unclear.

Hmm. Can you tell I've been reading effing law stuff for the last few days..?

Yesterday

2009-11-06T13:34:00.004Z

Late evening, I stepped outside work for a quick smoke in the peace, cold, dark... watching nothing of interest. I thought about how this was my last day being 21 - just hours to go - and smiled.

All I did yesterday was what I normally do. Sleep in; late and rushing. Messy hair. College. Lunch on the run. Hour of two in the pub with a friend I don't see enough of. Work. Make tea and coffee for bright-eyed foghlaimeoiri (oblivious to the putrid grudges and politics in the place), and serve them smilingly while sipping one of my thickest, soupiest coffees. Home to play Xbox with my housemate and a can or two. Out for "one" to "celebrate". Fast food. Had a look at my diary - deadlines, meetings... bullshit. Late to bed.

Fairly routine... dotted with plenty of solitary cigarettes - one of my favourite ways to break up any day. 3 minutes (almost to the second) to myself, my breathing, my nicotine.

Not the most special day to anyone else - but to me it was perfect.

All I wanted to do... was what I always do. On my last, lovely day being 21.

It gets overwhelming sometimes, but fuck it. I've got it pretty good.

Mar fhocal scoir...

2009-10-22T22:58:00.004+01:00

I’m sorry.

I was stupid. The first time, I guess those silly cries for attention were… well… exactly that. Another time, another place; a bad place. Pathetic, really, but fitting. Because I was pretty pathetic.

The second time… well, I never thought I’d resort to such childishness again. I’ve never acted like that before. Pathetic. But, I guess, “drunk me” (the “me” who sometimes fights the rest of me) was crying out… for attention? A desperate attempt, maybe, to admit that I really cared. ‘Cos, God knows, I’d never admit it sober. Or even drunk, it seems. Instead, I tried to obscure it – the urge to send, do, say something was too strong – so I tried to mask it with “accidental” nonsense. Pathetic.

My biggest problem was that I never trusted you. Not for a second. I wanted to, but, after every good night, good conversation, I’d go home and sleep would escape me. I couldn’t just enjoy it. I poisoned it, and my memory of it all, with doubt and fear. (Ugh, this is sounding awfully sappy)
Maybe that’s why I wanted to drag those times out for hours longer than made sense. Maybe I wasn’t fair; I forgave – or, said I did – but I didn’t, couldn’t, forget. I should have tried harder to – as someone who called myself a friend.

I don’t care, though. I don’t think either of us have anything to be ashamed of.

We’re, arguably, as much of a mess as each other… sometimes.

I wasn’t angry for long. Then I, successfully, convinced myself I still was. And, when that wore off, I was just a little sad. It’d be nice to keep in touch. So, here it is. Hope you’re well. Doubt you’ll read this, but, if you do, think about it.

It’s be nice to be real friends, like we used to imagine we were.

Longevity

2009-10-22T19:19:00.005+01:00

Been neglecting this li'l blog o' mine recently... like everything else. This weird obsession I've had with being busy busy busy - filling every second - getting involved and getting overwhelmed and revelling in it - has passed. Finally. After, what, two years?

Bad timing, considering I'm now in final year. Obsessive motivation would be very helpful right now. But other things are more important. Slowly realising that, so I am.

But, whatever. Like every year, this year will pass - too quickly - and I'll look back on it and wonder why I stressed about it all.

Had a funny conversation with my housemate, and old schoolfriend, today. About long-term relationships - and lack thereof. It's funny, having HAD long-term relationships is seen as a good thing, usually. Having never had one is "worrying". Can't commit. Can't make it work. No stamina? Blah.

I can't imagine why it's seen so negatively. Spending 3, 4, 5 years with a person - just to find out they were wrong for you anyway and that it was, essentially, a waste of both of your time, isn't something to brag about. It's fine. It happens. It's not a sign of a person being any more reliable or committal than any other.

My housemate/schoolfriend sometimes bemoans having never had one. Ridiculous. I've only had one, and, despite the fact it had a huge, interesting, devastating, enriching, and eye-opening effect on me, and my life... I've honestly, arguably, learned more from the shorter ones.

The ones that've lasted an hour and half.
The ones that've lasted two dates (if even).
Two weeks.
Two months.
What have you!

It's no harm - and no measure of a person - to have never had a long-term "thing". It happens, it's life, and it's fairly unremarkable, really... and mostly up to chance, or mistakes (which can indeed happen to even the most discerning daters.)

It's no more remarkable, in fact, than a person who jumps from one long-term thing to the next, with mere hours between (you know who you are!) It's not a badge of honour. Neither bad, nor good. Just the way it is.

Just saying....

Go outside... Taste the air!

2009-10-04T20:22:00.004+01:00

Winter's here! :D I stepped outside and got a rush of energy - just breathed it in. Memories of last winter and Christmas filled my head. I love the winter air; it's so pure and fresh and life-giving. There's a change in everything today. Just the lift I needed. I feel way more positive than I did this morning.

Spent the day doing some housework and reading my notes and thinking about all the horrible things I have to do for college this year. Felt really overwhelmed...

Not now, 'though. This is my favourite time of year - MY time of year. My lungs, my mind, my world feels clearer. (My room too, thanks to a good clean-up.)

It's almost like being at the seaside - or out on an Island. Good air. Every year I forget how good I feel in winter - then it just hits me like this. Cool surprise. :) (again!)

HOW did I miss this?

2009-09-25T13:08:00.005+01:00

National Punctuation Day was yesterday. There I was, raising my drink to Arthur (and parsnips..), when I should have also saved a toast for this wonderful, noble holiday. My new favourite holiday, in fact. 'Till Halloween, at least. (If it even lasts that long...)

I was reading an award-winning novel the other day and there were countless, blatant mistakes that really took from the story. It's hard to concentrate and lose yourself in the text when you come across a sentence that must be re-read. Shame. Great story.

This is it, though; great writers aren't necessarily great editors...
And vice-versa.

Being back in college is weird. It'll be a while before I get back into this internet obsession thing. I shook it off over the summer but it's coming back, I think. Means I'll spend more time here.

Probably not, 'though... I'll be quite busy this year. Scared? Nah. Projects seem doable. Altogether I've come up with about 30 different ideas; between dissertation ideas, radio package ideas, articles, etc... I need one good idea for each assignment. All different. All I've come up with to date are... well... shit.

Terrible. Rubbish. But, there's 30 of them. And the more shitty ones I come up with, the closer I get to the good ones. Maybe I could even dust off some old ideas, or really twist and mould these shit ones into something resembling a possibility.

We'll see.

Rough night ahead. Long story. Wishing for a migraine to get me out of it... No luck so far. Fuckers are never around when I need them. And I pulled enough fake ones in secondary school to know it's not worth it - people stop taking you seriously and you end up in HELL when you DO get an attack and no one accepts your excuses, or has any sympathy.

Did I hear that right?

2009-09-16T16:50:00.003+01:00

I think Lenihan said there that the property/land/assets/whatever only has to rise by 10% over the next 10 years in order for NAMA to break even...

Well... that doesn't sound too bad.

Still, 'though - I do not trust it.

A funny doomed feeling..

2009-09-16T15:33:00.007+01:00

Watching the NAMA thing in the Dail on telly - stressful. Not able for it, but can't look away. Between this and Lisbon 2, I've got an awfully sickly sinking feeling - but all I can do is watch as it all goes to pot. A lot of talk going on, all quite hopeless to be honest.

Christ. Recessions happen! It's natural; crap, and tough, but natural. The economy ebbs and flows and none of this knee-jerk panic is going to help - this bizarre plan is insane, and too risky to justify. Yet I'm listening to the bastards try and fail at doing just that... and wondering how they sleep.

I s'pose Cowen probably drinks himself into a coma, his huge red nose swelling with saturation, and whatever guilt he SHOULD feel, numbed. My mum said she feels sorry for him - Bertie having landed him in this, and all. But, I'm sorry, who was the Finance Minister under Bertie, again? Rudolf himself.

Anyone else up for a sesh on Lisbon night? Either to celebrate or mourn - whichever.

"May you live in interesting times..."

Bollox.

Stop asking me my "Plan" for next year...

2009-09-07T18:36:00.004+01:00

There's a smell of silage in this e-cafe. ick.

Lots of little things that've happened over the summer have gotten me thinking - hard - about what I wanna do. It also helps that people are constantly aaasking...

Well, what I mean is, what I wanna do in the future. I know EXACTLY what I wanna do NOW...

Right now, I wanna mess around and enjoy my days - and I have been. A lot!
I wanna hold on and embrace the playful, spontaneous attitude that abandoned me for a while until, recently, resurfacing and making everything more fun again.
I went to the pharmacy the other day and came back with a painting - well, a print of a photo - which I hung on my wall. It's arguably the most pointless waste of money I've ever bought but, now, is my absolute pride and joy. It's a lovely scene from Dún Chaoin in Kerry. Best bit is, I've BEEN there - I remember passing that exact spot and going, wow, I'd LOVE to take a picture that captures just how vertigo-y and awe-smacking this sight is. And this photographer did just that. Lovely. (Handy.)

I'm so chilled lately. Call me crazy, but I put it down to quitting drinking Coke! I did drink an atrocious amount, y'know... and it was fucking with my insides sumthin' AWful...

Maybe it's more than that.

Anyway...all ramblings aside - what I wanna do next year when I finish college is a mystery. Why? Because I wanna do exactly as I'm doing now. Keep letting things happen, taking stupid chances and getting involved in weird shit and reaping the benefits. Call it luck, call it balls, call it life, but I've always gotten what I wanted - well, I've not always know what that was until it came around, but basically I've always landed on my feet.

My plan for when I finish college? Roll with it. Follow the flow. Do EXACTLY what I've always done - which is, NOT make a plan. Just see.

It usually works.

And the best decisions are the ones made at the last minute.

Sure, that's the sole reason I'm sitting here right now.. Grafton St.'s extortionate little e-cafe, on a mediocre Dublin day, after work in Spex's, checking my timetable for my final year - starting this day fortnight. (Journalism, of all things - what was I thinking?)

(Exactly.)

Clarity?

2009-08-20T17:43:00.001+01:00

Well, clarity is probably, definitely, the wrong word... But I'm suddenly thinking differently - and seeing things... differently. It's weird. And I wonder will it last, or is it just shock. If it lasts... then... well, that's gonna be weird.

How much can a person take? Could it have been anyone? What happened? Of all the little things, which was the straw?
Which word was it? Which breath broke it? Which piece last fit... and finished him?
I can think of other people far more likely than him. And they'll live lovely long lives. (Please God) Wait, no! Not that they're LIKELY.. Jesus, no! ..but, at least, I could've made some sense of it... if... oh I dunno.

How can I keep doing what I'm doing when I can't bear to turn out like them? The vampiric scum with their gaunt faces and greedy eyes and their cameras bulging from their anoraks, snapping at us from the church gate... Straining to see over the crowd... Reading the latest, it's clear one or two had the nerve to come inside.

And I think about friends I've lost touch with - taking for granted that I'll never speak to them again. Shit, like - I'd kick myself if something happened to them and I'd left things as they were.... but will i do anything about it? Will they? No. That's not how it works. (I wish it was.)

People always say what a shame it is that we only seem to come together at funerals.
"It's ridiculous - we should organise something soon!"
But it doesn't happen.... 'Till someone else dies.

All the time people say Life is Short - people don't really let it sink in, 'though. Those are heavy words if you really listen to them.

Rrrrrrgh. Rough morning. Home. Bed. Enough already.

I'll do the college thing tomorrow.

Relief

2009-08-20T16:50:00.003+01:00

So, as expected, the vultures had the church surrounded... and if there's a picture of the dirty look I gave them in the paper tomorrow, then, so be it... Damn those shameless fuckers.

But it'll be yesterday's news tomorrow, and the family can - hopefully - have some well-needed rest.

It's a shit of a thing to happen.

It's funny - until the priest said it today, I had COMPLETELY forgotten about the charity box at his 21st last year. How could I forget? Rather than presents, drinks, etc, all he wanted was for people to throw a few bob - a small donation - into a charity box by the door. Sweetheart.

Hearing people talk about him made me feel a little better. Especially that girl - who'd been talking to the girl in hospital - who'd said He wasn't himself. The person who came into the house was NOT him. And if SHE can say that, and forgive him, then... that settles it.

I'm not sure what to do with myself for the rest of the day. Home. Bed. I dunno. For now I'm online. There WAS a good reason - I'm sure of it - but, instead of whatever it was, I've been poking around Youtube, and googling news reports, and obsessing (and raging) about them, and generally wasting time.

Oh yeah, that was it; I was meant to check my college email.

Surreal

2009-08-18T18:17:00.005+01:00

Life keeps getting weirder and weirder.

I've a funeral to go to on Thursday. I'm glad it's soon to be over and done with. Even gladder that the rota unexpectedly changed and I've the whole day off - and, therefore, don't have to give an explanation for something I'd rather not talk about.

When it's done and...laid to rest... the fucking papers may, finally, shut up about the whole incident.

Wishful thinking.

I don't really want to be a journalist anymore, to be honest. Not after the last few days' bullshit "reporting". Vultures. Soulless hounds. Vicious bastards.

I can't imagine what the families are going through. Reading that shit can't possibly make it any easier.

The whole city's talking about it. Everyone has their bullshit 2cents-worth to give. Everyone's an expert, a critic - everyone has an opinion.

But, I suppose, if I didn't know better, I'd gossip and coo and gasp about it too.

And, y'know, I genuinely doubt that (were I a clueless journo) I'd have written it any differently. In fact, I predicted it all - all the reports - the way it was handled and spun - almost word for word. That scares me.

This sort of thing usually happens to "other" people. Not real people. Not nice people. Not people you worked with and thought you knew.

RIP, a chara.

Btw..

2009-08-10T18:48:00.001+01:00

I didn’t mention this (mainly because I forgot) but, the other night (with the haunted house and the antics in Dave’s living room), Helen* decided to have a little heart-to-heart with me.

Aoife, I’m drunk enough now to say this – I’m really sorry if I was mean to you in Primary School.

Err… shut your face! Ha. No, seriously, we don’t need to talk about it. Water – bridge – all that!

No but, I don’t really remember, but I know I was horrible – etc etc etc
She seemed a little ruffled and verging on upset.

I assured her - don’t worry about it! Honestly, of ALL of them, she was the least. All she did was what she had to do – going along with them. Unlike the rest, she was never actually cruel to me.

Like, even those who were, I couldn’t care less about, and wouldn’t even accept an apology from. Not because I’m angry – far from it! But because I genuinely don’t care – we were kids. I was the new girl, I wasn’t liked. But kids are cruel and kids are stupid because – whether or not they turn out to be bad people later– they have their reasons and/or they don’t know any better. They don’t think. I barely remember, anyway. I’ll admit I don’t wanna rush out and make best best friends with them or anything, but I don’t resent anyone. (Despite the odd little rant…)

It was good of her, I guess, and (though drunk) she insisted that, had she the mind she has now, she’d have acted differently. But, sure, we can all say that. We can say that the very day after something happens. We can say it mere MOMENTS after. We’d do it differently. That’s my point, 'though; that’s why she oughtn’t feel bad.

Which, btw, is something I should probably apply to myself.

I did things wrong too, ‘though. And I was just a kid. And kids are stupid. So I should forgive me like I’ve forgiven and forgotten them. It wasn’t MY fault, either.
But I kicked myself for years – convinced it was my fault: I moved to Limerick and was picked on and was convinced it would have been different if I’d acted differently. If I'd been different, I'd've been accepted - I told myself. So, I'll be different.

I’ve said this before – I was convinced that only by moving to Dublin could I prove to myself that, whatever I did wrong then, I wouldn’t do again. With the mind I have now. But that’s stupid for lots of reasons. One being that peoples’ opinion of you isn’t something you can control – no matter what front you adopt or what you say. Neither can you control how you’ll get on with each other – some people click, others don’t. (And some who click end up hating each other, and some who don’t end up loving each other) It’s not something you can control – and yet I fight that reality with everything I’ve got – I have for years!

After moving to Limerick, I learned to mask my real self. Trying (too hard) to come across as smart/bubbly/friendly/confident/cool/outgoing/whatever in varying company – never quite relaxing and never quite honest until truly comfortably with a person. When I would drop the act(s), I’d suddenly become very aware of the fact I was ”gone all quiet” – and I’d be so distracted by my lack of input that I’d almost be too busy (thinking of something to say) to listen to anyone else!

And if, naturally, I AM quiet and a little reserved, and shy away from the centre of attention, then so be it. But I don’t feel I am. I, for some reason, believe I need an act in order NOT to be… but I still don’t feel that’s me. It wasn’t before Limerick, anyway. But that was a long time ago. And I doubt I’m half as inept as I’ve convinced myself I am.

I don’t really know anymore, to be honest. Really, I think it’s ALL me. Rather than putting on a front, it’s that I'm putting a facet of myself forward… maybe? That’s a nice way to put it. And, at least, absolutely everyone does it.

“Be yourself”? Silly expression. I say, which one?? Personalities are changeable – you are who you are, added to who you want to be, multiplied by who you’re around.

Or...something!

*Fake name. Which is pointless. As the readers of this blog will either have never met her, or know exactly who I’m talking about.

“Any boys on the scene?”

2009-08-09T19:02:00.002+01:00

Honestly, what sort of question is that?

Although, to be fair, when there isn’t... it cuts down on the breadth of conversation a little bit.

Oh, there’s plenty else to chat/moan/boast/gossip/debate about… but little that’s quite as satisfying as a good bitch/ponder-out-loud/comparative discussion on the latest “interest”.

And at least, when there’s an “interest”, it’s usually pretty interesting.

And coupled-up folk can feel self-conscious if they catch themselves rambling on about their someone around singles - especially those with nothing to report. God knows why. It’s not like giving up smoking, when you’ll start craving a fix.

Still… that being the only downside, it’s not the worst, is it? :)

Back to...everything! (and PICS!)

2009-08-06T18:36:00.010+01:00

Spent the last few days at home, but back in Dublin as of yesterday morning when I ran straight from train to house to work (got a taxi from the station to within 5mins of my house when I got stuck behind the Lord Mayor, who decided to trundle down the road I needed... as slow as...the slowest coach EVER... so had to get out and run home, then run to work.)

Today wasn't tooo bad at work... but yesterday... Oh yesterday...

First day back after a holiday is aaawful. Even if it was only a few days. Going home isn't really a "holiday", I know, whatever, but it felt like one - I had TIME. Loads of time! And could do what I liked for a while. Besides - I hadn't been home since the first week of June.

Had fun though! Stayed with my cousins one night - few drinks, few laughs.
Had a couple friends over for some DVDs and a catch up - turned into a few cans, packs of crisps, a treck to a haunted house, and bad karaoke/dancing in Dave's living room (???)
Went on a mini road-trip to Clonmel to pick up my friend's NOT-apparently-robbed purse, and do a bit more socialising...

It was 90% fun. There was also a migraine (graaagh - but at least it's the Test Month, so it's good, right? Research purposes and all that -- suffer on!) and a few moments when I thought about quitting work and coming home to try be there for/sort out some stuff with my family - but sensibility and reality set it, so that urge passed. I don't think it's as bad as I'm afraid (read: convinced) it is - I'm sure it seems worse 'cos I'm away... or something... Besides - who knows if I could even DO any good?

Anyway, here's a selection of scenes from the trip home. The last one's a house that - apparently, I hear - was intended for India. But lies in a small town in Co. Limerick. Apparently, the contractor was a spa, and mixed up the plans, and the poor little aul' house that he was MEANT to build is in India somewhere.

Creeping up to the haunted house...

The "entrance" (no pics inside, unfortunately! Too busy freaking each other out - forgot about camera)

Spooky!

Old Schoolfriend/Future Housemate & me!

Out of India

The Clinic

2009-08-01T12:39:00.004+01:00

So, went to a specialised migraine clinic in Cork yesterday... results? Well... hopeful, I suppose.

It was interesting! He finally confirmed for me that my local GP is the eejit I thought he was (tried for years to convince me I had eye strain, and told me to wear my glasses etc... growl...) and the specialist didn't see me, but his assistant/partner fello (who had a very nice, well-chosen pair of specsavers glasses - Osiris, double bridge... obsessed? Me? No!) did. Now, I must say, he was very thorough and helpful. And he took me seriously... (refreshing! As I'm sure most migraine sufferers are sick to death of stupid sceptical doctors) and the only part of the consultation that pissed me off was when, before leaving the room to fetch the "Big Guy", this assistant/partner dude handed me a patronising information leaflet... and a freaking migraine diary. Another freaking migraine diary. I could have cried.

My mum had come with me on the bus and, on the way, I had ranted about how I didn't want to be fobbed off with yet ANOTHER diary. I've been dealing with these stupid things for 10 years now - I KNOW my triggers and I KNOW what to avoid, but what frustrated me more than anything is these damn diaries and information leaflets. Know your triggers, reduce your attacks. Fuck that. Easy for YOU to say! And triggers can be food, alcohol etc, and that's fair enough - but some of my major ones include sudden changes in the weather, irregular sleep, missed or delayed meals, stress, changes in routine (including HOLIDAYS! Yes! Holidays are a big trigger for most people. Even without the heat, altitude on the plane, missing sleep and meals, and drinking etc, just the simple fact that they are a sudden change in routine can be enough to knock you out with a headache for half your trip! BULLSHIT. So I can't do ANYTHING?!)

Sitting waiting for them to come back, I became nearly hysterical with fury - I am NOT going to live my life like a China Doll! YOU try avoiding stress - LIFE is stressful!

Imagine it! Afraid to drink, going to bed at a certain time every night, scheduling meals, never missing breakfast or ANY meal, or staying up late or going out dancing. I point blank REFUSE to live my life by these shitty rules. Yes, I'll get headaches, but - even if I did everything in my power to prevent them, I'd STILL GET THEM! These fucking headaches are a nuisance, and it sucks when I get one, but they WILL not RULE my life.

If this guy comes back in now and tells me to avoid my triggers and live more responsibly or whatever, I may in fact smack him.

But, the big bossman specialist came in... and before I had a chance to open my mouth, said something like;
"I'm sure you know your triggers by now, and this diary is simply to record the frequency of headaches - and to compare and see whether the medication we're going to put you on makes a difference. Regardless of how you live your life, you ARE a migraine sufferer, and will get headaches but, hopefully, we can reduce them."

So, my plan is to wait a month before starting on the preventatives, and record whatever happens... and then take them for 5 months... and come back with my findings.

Fine so! If it doesn't work, then, feck it. At least he doesn't expect me to live like a frail, delicate, sensible coward. That's the biggest relief of all.

On break at work at mo, so best be getting back!

More Fun-in-Sun Summer Tales

2009-07-25T18:33:00.000+01:00

I had a mini-holiday in Germany 2 weeks ago, y’know! Did I mention that? I’ve been neglecting this poor bedraggled blog lately…

Wrangled ONE day off, (in between my usual two. 3 in a row = buy plane tickets!) Drinking on a work night out, followed by an all-night bday house party, followed by drunken mess in security, followed by missed flight, followed by drunken tears, followed by bus home, nap, bus back, NEW flight, and… FINALLY arrived! Ich bin ein Dortmunder!

Went to Dortmund to see some friends who are over on Erasmus there. It was fan-freakin’ tastic. I managed to see some sights, visit Dusseldorf and Köln, get myself a Curry Wurst (which I hadn’t had for 6 YEARS… and which didn’t taste as good as I remembered), do some shopping, eat some sushi (with novelty fish-shaped Soy sauce thingie!), fuck-up hair by ill-advisedly spraying deodorant in it (don’t ask), practice my German and re-learn stuff, taste (legal!?!) Poitín in an “Irish” bar (called Limericks!), taste waaatury Guinness in same, stay out all night at a mental metal(ish?) club that didn’t close, link arms doing Jager shots with a beautiful Russian…
All this in a day and a bit. (The final day was spent with a mean hangover-turned-day-long-migraine that was NOT fun to travel with) – and, turned out, the beautiful Russian had wanted to see me! *pout* Shame. Well, he’d’ve had some shock if he did. I was…less that “put together.”

I have another mini-holiday coming up – Bank holiday! That means Sunday and Tuesday off as usual….and… the shop’s closed Monday! HELL yeah.
I’m going to Limerick, lady! And it’s been far too long and I hope you all are ready for a homecoming to be remembered.

I miss my mam and dad most of all. They’re coming to Dublin Monday, ‘though. And the five of us are going to U2 together!
I must insist on more family (that’s ALL five pieces, please) outings/events/things... Since we all split up and went our own ways, we’ve made an effort – but not enough. I miss feeling like a solid family unit…thing.

shrug

2009-07-24T20:01:00.001+01:00

Is doigh gur chreid mé i ngrá,
Sular tháinig cara liom air
Romham.

The Summer So Far

2009-07-24T18:50:00.007+01:00

I thought I’d be lonely and miserable this summer – the only one not going away; my friends mostly in Limerick/Cork; the one stuck in Dublin after (bizarrely) landing a job when no-one else could. (When I didn’t really even try...) But I’m having a blast. I have people. Great people. Just ‘cos they’re not around doesn’t mean I’m no longer the luckiest person alive. My friends and family are incredible. And they’ve visited me a LOT more often than I could have hoped since the summer started. Which is great. ‘Cos I haven’t gotten home since I started in Specsavers (two days off… but not together. Sunday and Tuesday. Crap? Yeah.)

The work crowd are great. Really a fab bunch. Never settled into a place so quickly in my life – school, jobs, whatever – never! Really clicked with a few of them. Good people. My kinda people.

And I have my Conradh family – my weird, extended, Gaeilge-labharing family...

A friend of mine said to me last night (as Gaeilge, but I’ll paraphrase in English here:) that he really respected my attitude: I work hard (maybe too hard) and take on too much, simply for fear of missing a single opportunity that comes my way. He said that some people (NORMAL people), when tired, accept their tiredness and take a break. I, however, swat it away and don’t consider it a hinderance (apparently). Then I seem surprised when I get exhausted and run-down – which he said was hilarious to him. And weird. But cool.

I just shrugged. I suppose it IS pretty funny. But I don’t see myself as that; a sort of stupid blind Energiser Bunny who, ‘though impressive, is bound to run out of steam and doesn’t know when to quit. I DO know when to quit. I just don’t want to. And don’t feel like I can.

It’s a pain I got a job, in some ways, but not in others. It’s a pain I have to work the other jobs – but I love them all.
“Keep interested in your own career, however humble. It is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.”
I’ll be out of college before I know it. And all my ideas and plans and great projects can wait a few more months. I have a LOT of ideas. Once I get my degree, unless I miraculously (irritatingly) land an ab fab job the very day I graduate, I am gonna start living for me and my dreams, man. And I am going to have earned every minute of it.

And I'm gonna see more of my fecking friends and family, dammit.

Haircut!

2009-07-07T14:52:00.002+01:00

Since dying my hair brown, I've taken a new inerest in the thing. For a long time I've taken no care of it, whatsoever (as evidenced by the ratty ends, fluffy condition, and odd limbo-"style" that's neither curly, straight, or even wavy, to be honest...)

So, I'm getting it cut today! In fact, I'll keep this brief or I'll be late for my appointment.

Chopping off the green-ish ends (not exactly punk-rock green, and my friends tell me I'm imagining it, but there's a sheen off of it that simply MUST go) - that'll make it look like it's in better condition, it'll be less heavy and lank, and, the colour'll look fresher!

Gettin' a wash and blowdry - though hate the way they always flatten it - all straight and dull. I am not a straight-hair girl!

Yikes, I'm officially gonna be late now - bbl! (...perhaps with a new fringe! Gasp!)

RE: "Interesting"

2009-07-01T21:09:00.002+01:00

That post there a few posts ago - I changed my mind. It'd be pretty unfair to meet up with him when I'm so...blatantly not interested. Shame. I want to be, but can see where it's going and don't like it.

Most posts on here, I've regretted the second I've written them. With an attitude like that, you may think I shouldn't have a blog - but that's exactly the reason why I have one...

...To tap away in an internet cafe and get all the rambling crap out of my head and into the e-abyss. :P

Rather than respond to that irritating email...

2009-07-01T20:24:00.005+01:00

... I said I'd write a post! Don't worry - I haven't given a thought to what it'll be about, so it'll be as here-and-there and rambly as any of mine. Yay.

Saw someone walking down Grafton St with the hoodie we designed for our society. My logo, C's design; awesome! Turned my mood around - bigtime!

Stressy day at work. Very, very tired. Regret staying late in the Mezz last night - but, hell, that band were pretty effin' brilliant.

Bought some CDs - wooo!

I love where I work. It's so bizarre working somewhere where I was so often a customer, seeing the inner-workings of it all, working alongside the people who fitted me for my glasses a year ago, going downstairs and barging through the staff-only door I'd always wondered at, getting better eye-related advice and understanding than I'd've ever got as a customer... I'd've never known to ask! It's fascinating. I work with a cool group of people too.

I get too involved with some of the customers, though. One time, I was so adamant that there MUST be something I could do to help someone, that I ended up pissing them off. I tried one idea, it didn't work. I tried another - failed. Again and again, all the while, the person's hopes are roller-coaster-ing and he's getting (understandably) irritated... I eventually give up - having been told by a superior that there was no point, nothing we can do, etc. And he FLIPPED. But can you blame him? If I'd listened to my supervisor in the first place, instead of desperately exhausting every option... if I'd made less of an effort... and said straight out: "Nah, sorry man" .. then it'd have been a much smaller deal..! Ah well. I tried. Even if I did drive the poor guy demented.

Helping people's great though, when it works out. Fixing glasses is the best bit - they're (usually) always so grateful.
There's worse ways I could be spending my summer.

And I know I haven't been updating the blog much, except with weirdy, not-well-thought-out stuff here and there. I've no internet at home, and little time, and too much going on. And that's not such a bad thing!

Oh, and I dyed my hair brown Sunday night. I'm kicking myself at not doing it before now. It's the darkest it's been since I was about 13 (it's been varying shades of light brown, red, purple.. and, finally, 2 years of blonde) - and I adore it. Even if it IS taking some getting used to.

My parents are gonna load into the car, with my sis and brother, and troop up to Dublin this Sunday - to take me to dinner as a combined Bday dinner for Rob and my dad, and a treat for lonely, far-away me. I am so, so excited about it - disproportionately, maybe! But... y'know, it's the best news I could've possibly ever, ever gotten right now. I can't think of anything I'd rather do.

Fucking "Feelings". They ruin everything.

2009-06-29T20:47:00.006+01:00

I’ve fallen out with three of the people I respect most in the world. Well, not so much fallen-out… “Lost”, more like… as in, Friendship Over. And I don’t mean recently (though one was recent enough, but a long time coming) but, rather, over the last few years.

And it’s the greatest shame when it happens. There’s a grief to losing someone from your life; whether they’re still alive or not doesn’t ease the pang. Part of life, I guess. “As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons” is easier said than done.

The first two helped me regain myself. The falling out, and fallout, may have been ugly, but I owe everything to them. Well… a lot. They helped me to cop on and remember who I was – all the while helping me to be better. I worry about both; one to a greater extent than the other, each because of their respective, fatal flaws that hold them back, unbeknownst to them. I think they’re perfect, though. As close as people get. I think about them both all the time. I still text them the odd time; more and more infrequently until it’s barely once a year, praying for a friendly response and an invite for a coffee/pint. Not likely. She’s still too angry; the grudge-holding type. And he’s in another world… and won’t be coming out of it, I don’t think.

The third caused me more harm than good. And I don’t say that in retrospect alone; I knew it all along. But how can you help it? When you think so highly of someone? It’s a pain, the bullshit that comes into it…. Attraction, distrust, secrecy, suspicion, dishonesty, insensitivity, alcohol, bitching, miscommunication, taking one another for granted… People are never just people with each other – there’s always all these stupid issues, beliefs, fears and feelings that warp and ruin and complicate everything. Bullshit.

But the rest makes it irresistible; the company… the occasional, glistening understanding… the relief that someone almost “gets” it… their voice and opinions, music and jokes and sense of fun… That’s what you miss. That’s what you remember. God, she was so much fun! And he could have done ANYTHING with that mind and that talent – the best musician I’ve ever heard.

Well, that’s what I remember. And the aforementioned bullshit is forgotten in an instant, as far as I’m concerned, when you bump into them for the first time in ages… You just wanna dig inside their head and know everything about them, and how they’re getting on, now. You’re dying to just grab them in a big hug and squeeze really tight and hope to God it never happened. But you don’t. ‘Cos you can’t. ‘Cos it did.

And, with any of them, I’d love a clean slate. Start over. I’d love the chance to meet again for the first time… Erasing those wretched stains that sour a well-lived-in friendship. I kinda had that op with the third person I mentioned... But, not really... Just as doomed as last time, with obstructive, underlying grudges on top of it. And pride. Pride can be poison. Christ, there’s still so many things that make me so, so angry to think about. The fact that he’s angry, for example, over something tiny that I don’t even remember doing. The NERVE. After all I put up with, and over something so stupid?

I made few complaints, tried to understand, pretended it didn’t bother me when he (seemingly) didn’t give a shit, and he’s in a huff with me? He can stay in it. Friendship Over? Fine. I’ve done enough to try sustain it. I’m done making an effort, doing little favours, actively BEING a friend. He wasn’t a friend to me. One time he WAS really there for me – but that was more out of coincidence than anything else. And he told me later that I’d been melodramatic. Nice. Ok, no, it’s not fair to say he wasn’t a friend to me – a few times, a little bit, he really was.

It’s not like I could call him for a vent or a chat or anything, ever. Well, I could, but the idea makes me uncomfortable. Squirming at the thought! He has an incredible talent for making “Hey” or “What’s the craic?” sound like “Is there a particular reason you’re bothering me and can we make this quick?” I could never tell if it was intentional or not.

But. Anyway. Like I said; that’s not the bit I like to care about. How important is it? I may be angry, but I still hate the idea of losing touch. I just wanna be friends. I just wanna know how the exams went. I wanna wish him well. I wanna say goodbye. ‘Though… keeping in touch is not my call. It has to be up to him. Why? ‘Cos any effort from ME to get in contact would probably be seen as attention-seeking, so-called “clingy”, behaviour in his head… And he wouldn’t respond anyway.

I’ve never had a friend I was so afraid talking to – sitting in Bewleys, biting my tongue, watching my every word. The hell?! It was the weirdest “friendship” I ever had. His critical eyes terrified me by the end. But, that Valentines, and those first few late nights this time round (before he said all that shite and changed everything; before issues, beliefs, fears and feelings interfered)… Those nights and chats were something else…

And I’ve heard nothing from him since that awful morning… when, despite my put-on cheerfulness, I had a lump in my throat going up Grafton St. Same as last time. Perfectly reasonable, in his head, I’m sure. I’d like to be able to say I trusted him and was surprised, but that’d be a lie. I knew it would happen (no wonder I couldn’t sleep). I was prepared. But, y’know what, I had still really hoped I was wrong and it still fucking hurt when he was finished we me - when we just suddenly weren't friends anymore. It hurts. Which is weird, 'cos I'd never admit it. Not after the fool I made of myself last time. And if the ONLY way I’ve slipped up and SHOWN that was one drunk, pathetic text message, and this blog post , then I think I’m doin’ pretty fucking well.

Issues, beliefs, fears and fucking feelings can rot friendships… You can’t ever really wipe those niggling things out. And they make it so hard to stay in touch. Why make the effort? Why not just convince yourself you never cared and move on? There’s plenty more people around who you care about less… and, thus, hate less. So you’ll go for coffee with them. And it’ll be just lovely.

"Interesting"

2009-06-21T19:16:00.005+01:00

Well, he had the balls to come into the bar... I may have thought he was boring after that date about 3 months back (when pretty much all we talked about was me and what I've done/do, and he (having long since run out of stuff to say about himself) sat in open-mouthed awe), but you have to respect him for braving that underground, Irish-speaking dungeon. One of his friends looked enthusiastically bemused, the other sat in grumpy silence, but G really made an effort!

Now, I can't say for sure if it was just to check the place out, or to come lookin' for me, but - bless him - he really tried! And I WAS kinda, sorta, half-delighted to see him. And, low and behold, didn't I just get a text off him there...

Maybe he deserves a chance. Maybe my definitions of "boring" and "interesting" need revising, too. Just because he's not ambitious and was happy to go straight into a safe, secure trade from secondary school... and just because his biggest passion in life is Movies (and only modern ones at that)... doesn't make him boring. Who knows. Maybe he does have hidden depths and ambitions. And, pssht, how important is it anyway.

Moving Away

2009-06-18T18:59:00.005+01:00

I'm 6. Or 7. I've got my hands pressed against the window of the car and I'm sobbing, and waving... and then I pull it together and close my eyes. It's an ok day. Weather-wise. All my soft toys are in one big huge box in the moving van, except for two which accompany me for the car-ride.

I met Chloe King on my first day of school. With the innocent confidence of one completely ignorant of cruelty, I bounded over to the first girl I saw, plonked myself down and introduced myself. Then on, we were inseparable.

I wrote to Chloe a lot when I moved away. Almost every day! Problem was, I'd usually forget to send the letters. Or else I'd decide against sending them; by the time they were in the envelope, they felt out of date, or I'd think of something else, and want to write a new one.

Then I'd forget to send that one, too.

We moved back a year and a half later - I was delighted. It didn't matter that I hadn't kept in touch. My new school had been weird. All girls. Most of them mean. I was so happy to be back! Stuff had changed, but not a lot.

A year later... we were off again. (thanks to my Dad's job) To Limerick.
It was starting to get easier, though. And I kept writing letters. Again...I mostly forgot to send them. So my friends mostly forgot me.

This last move, 'though, changed everything. And it didn't look like there'd be any moving out of here.

I hated it. Just when I joined the class (around 9 years old) another girl (who everyone had loved) had moved away... so I was not only the new girl, but the replacement. They had high hopes for me..(that I didn't exactly meet)

Then, someone decided they didn't like me. And that was the start of my warm welcome to Limerick that had me itching to get out of there...

To move again. The other times hadn't been so bad. I wasn't sure if it'd been me, or them, or the school, or the area, or WHAT the problem was - but there was definitely a problem. I didn't belong there. I never would. Even when I made some nice friends, fell in love...even knowing it's where my parents are... not good enough. It's not right for me and never was. I couldn't stay and couldn't explain why.

I moved to Dublin. To see. To start again.

's going ok. Still not right, 'though...not quite.

Whenever someone asks me where I'm from - I kinda stumble over the answer. What I wanna say is Galway, but I don't think I'm entitled...
I was born in Galway, but don't remember much, or have any friends or ties there, really. I left before I knew very much of what went on outside my housing estate.

And Limerick? Well, I lived there the longest. Even if I hated it, it's the most like home - purely 'cos I'm most familiar with the place.

I wrote about moving back to Galway before... and still think it's worth trying... but who's to say I won't be bitterly disappointed?

I think I turned my back on Limerick too quickly. I severed ties with a few very valuable people. In a few cases, there's no going back. That's NEVER good.

In Galway I had friends - it was easy! Because I was never the new girl. I was part of their world from the word go and more confident than most (because I didn't know any better back then..) I never had to build that community up... it was just there.

In Limerick, it took a long, long time to get a nice group together. People I could trust with my life, people I would do anything for.

Maybe, instead of wondering where I'll run to next... maybe I should stop forgetting to send those letters... return those calls... answer those texts... and make more time for the people I DO have... and make more of an effort to KEEP them.

I'm looking for that homely, comfortable, happy feeling in all the wrong places - haha - because I'm looking for it in PLACES.

If I have people, even if they're scattered all around the world, that's all there is to it.

Day Off

2009-06-16T16:00:00.005+01:00

(To distract from the previous, irritatingly cryptic and off-putting post, I'm writing another!)

It's my day off! And last night was amazing, but there was no waking up drenched in vodka-flavoured sweat. In fact, I felt quite refreshed! And it's intermittently sunny/warm and cloudy, and I have all day! ALL day! I might go to penny's. Or sit online for a little longer.

Having no internet at home is a pain.

Life's good ,'though. Really, really good. My workmates are complete utter legends - psychos! A mad mix of Metallers, mentalers, migraneurs and gaelgoirs. I like this no-weekends work-style too - I get two days off a week, that seem to have settled now on Tues and Thurs and, 'though there mebbe a little more swapping 'round in future, I really like the current arrangement! Instead of being burnt-out on Friday, the breaks come just as I need them. And being rostered for Sunday means a half day! And having weekdays off means banks and other weekday-specific shit is your oyster.

I'll still be able to go home, once in a while... hopefully... (I don't actually know, to be honest..) But! Money money money! Save save save! It'll be so worth it. Really!

Honestly

2009-06-11T21:40:00.005+01:00

I wish everyone would just shut up and realise they're talking shite. Making noises. Might as well be grunting at each other, for all the good it does. Conversation? Nope. Not by my definition...

I'm just not in a people mood today. Not in the mood for listening to, and pretending to care about, the drivel they're spewing.

I've no internet at home, so I should probably use this opportunity to write some awesome post... but.. nope. That's it.

Workin my way through my Marilyn Monroe box-set - love it. Must get the other half of the collection some day..!

My jobs have me nackered. The full-time's great, and the other part-time stuff...well.. I can cut down a little once the first payment comes my way.

I HATE having to wait a month for my money. But - Christ - it's gonna be sweet.
26th of June. It's gonna be a hell of a night out.

And I'll get my hair done, and shop somewhere OTHER than Tesco's, and and - maybe a new hairdryer that isn't a fire-hazard! :)

Really! Look at this place. It's so... bizarre. Out of place everywhere in the world. With it's politics and it's drippy pipes and it's ...everything.
How did I get here?

Sometimes I have to do a double-take; like, really?! This is MY life? Where'd it all come from? How'd it all happen? And what the fuck is next..?

Just my fucking luck. Woo.

2009-06-04T01:56:00.001+01:00

I got a job. A perfect job. A 5-day, 9-6, ok-paying, nice atmosphere, happy, clappy, dream-come-true, summer job. The sort of job no-one can find at the moment.

Part of me's thrilled, and so, so grateful: No more money troubles! No more shame at borrowing from my parents! Guaranteed to be able to stay in Dublin! Even the possibility I'll be able to SAVE some money and not need to work so much during my final college year! Wow. Fairly jammy.

But... Fucking shitting bollox why did it have to happen?

Another summer. Another fucking summer working. In my last post, I talked about my plans... Plans for the last summer I have before college ends and I'm into the real world; Plans for doing stuff I've never had time to do; Plans for relaxing, bumming around, talking to people, going for walks and reading; Plans to do and try and savour whatever popped into my head; Plans for living without any plans for a while.

This is my last - LAST - summer like this. Last summer holidays. I haven't had a summer "holiday" (where I didn't spend the whole thing working) since... Summer '04, I think? Or '05... whichever.

Every summer since, I've taken no more than a week or two off. Every short break and midterm, I was usually working, or studying, or both. DIT's course structure even means we study over Christmas.

I sound like I'm complaining - I'm not. I like my life. I know there's loads of people in the same boat. And worse boats. Terrible, rickety, moth-eaten boats. And I've had this whole week (well, 4 days - almost a week) to chill and lie in the sun and chat on the phone and sleep and drink in the late afternoon and go for long walks... and it's been sunny and beautiful and I got a bit of a colour (a half a shade less pale. Which is the darkest I go, unfortunately. You won't notice - but I'm thrilled.) And I have half of tomorrow to do the same.

But I had gotten used to the idea that I wouldn't get a job (see last post)... I had decided to refuse the first job I was interviewed for, before they even offered it to me (as it would take me away from various other commitments that I didn't wanna break)... I was praying they wouldn't even call back at all. (They didn't, as it happens.)

Today, 5 minutes into the interview, it was clear that my CV alone had been enough to convince her, and that she just wanted a gawk at me before I signed the forms. The job was mine the minute I introduced myself. Right place, right time, right fucking lucky thing to happen. She seemed lovely. I left with my new uniform under my arm and a bittuva dazed grin. Over the moon!

Then, a few cigarettes later, it hit me... Yes, I am so, so lucky to have tripped and fallen into this job so unexpectedly, easily, suddenly, randomly, whatever..
But my break's now over. I need the money. I need to work. I've been offered a job. I start Monday. End of story. End of fun. End of sun. End of laziness and idyllic days.

I have absolutely no excuse NOT to take it. If I had tried, and failed, to get a job, I could guiltlessly while away the sunny days... sipping tea, packing lunches, smoking rollies, walking everywhere, maybe giving grinds or babysitting for the odd bit of cash...

My free-living, string-free, hippy-fantasy will remain just that.

When I took that first full-time Summer job, I guess I didn't know what I was getting myself into.

I got a taste for making my own money. And, if I'm honest, I couldn't get by without it. My parents will do their best to get me out of a jam, but I hate asking them for anything...

I've already started and there's no going back.
Tasted blood; want more. Hooked and completely reliant.
I'm gonna be working for the rest of my life.
And, though it started years ago, to be honest it comes as a bit of a shock. Which is stupid.
Must've forgotten what age I was for a minute there.

I have a plan.

2009-06-01T03:15:00.005+01:00

I hadn't expected to like PS I Love You. Imagine my surprise when I loved it.

I'm home! Nice to be home.. went to a hurling match in Thurles with dad... sat out in the sun with mum for a few hours... ate lovely non-student food... laughed at my dog's darling antics... (she's a ball of fluff... she stares into the pond all day... whines and refuses to move after even short walks... when thirsty, she does this attention-seeky, "poor-me-look-what-I'm-reduced-to" thing of licking the floor and gazing sadly at you... etc)

House is odd without the cat. Poor Heidi.

And the siblings! But it's nice too.

..I needed time to think; to process, to unwind. I was squinting at a jet trail overhead when it hit me that I hadn't felt so relaxed in years. Years? I can't believe that. But it's true. I'm a strung-up stress-junkie who is losing interest (fast - i ngach rud) through sheer exhaustion.. (Not good) .... and who never has me time - except between 2 and 6am, maybe, and only at the expense of sleep.

Not on. It's just not on anymore. I work too much/hard/everything.

I need to think about it ALL. Get a life.

I applied for a job, and they're going to let me know Wednesday. Up until today, I was desperate to get it and get back to work.

Now (and maybe it was the lazy, hazy sun's influence, but...) I think I'll graciously say; "No."

This summer - the last summer before this daydream of college ends and reality strikes - I wanna do stuff I want to do.

Maybe I'll... ehm... Paint. Write. Sleep. Rest. Take up a class. Jog. Quit smoking. Re-learn piano... or German.... Maybe give grinds..?

Maybe I'll spend the whole summer spit-shining all those rusty friendships. I'd like that. Whenever I come back to Limerick I get different pangs for different people wherever I go..

As for money.. well.. Club's always there. It'd be tricky to stay in Dublin on that pay alone, but...
I have the bones of a plan. Or, the bones of a few plans, at least.

For now. I'm relaxed, and in no hurry to return to running solely on cigarettes, coke, a dwindling force of will, and stubborn, sleep-deprived energy. Why should I? I am not gonna waste another minute worrying about money. I will get by. I will NOT be an exhausted, over-worked wreck for money's sake anymore.

PS ...I am really, really getting into this Sky Digital menu screen music...

Today, I stood up to a wasp! ^_^

2009-05-28T16:37:00.008+01:00

I’m sorry, but I’m very, very excited about this and HAD to post.

I’m not afraid of much – I’ve always wanted a pet snake or tarantula. I think mice are adorable. As for insects… Flies are a nuisance, ants are to be avoided, but aren’t scary. And bees? I actually quite like bees.
Wasps, however, petrify me.

They always have. Don’t ask me why. I haven’t the faintest idea. It’s completely irrational. It’s nothing to panic over. And it doesn’t make sense that bees don’t scare me. I’ll hear the buzz and begin to panic and see it’s a bee and go “whew” and relax.

I’ve been stung before – and it’s not so bad. A little pinch, and itchiness. Not so scary. I get migraines every week! A wasp sting is NOTHING. It’s not that painful. And I know this. I know it well. But knowing that doesn’t help.

It’s the way they flit around and are everywhere at once and are so fast and small; before you know it they’re behind you, or beside your head, or in your hair, and they chase you when you run and they buzzzzzzzz so viciously and the noise is all around you! And, I dunno, I’ve pretty bad depth perception too so when a wasp is there zig-zagging towards me I can’t tell how close it is and – argh.

Horrible.

One time there was one in my room, and I hadn’t noticed, and I was standing in front of my wardrobe, and I heard the buzz – directly above my head – and, without thinking, I dropped to the floor and scrambled out of the room… army-style. You’d swear a grenade had gone off.

Another time I was staying with a friend, and we got home from a party around 5, and at 6 or 7ish the sun came up, and the wasp that’d been in the room (asleep on the skylight) woke and started circling and screeching and I was awake and out of the room before I even remembered where I was. Not wanting to wake anyone, and having taken my duvet with me, I sat on a chair outside the room, hoping the little shit would roam into the hall and I’d be able to dive in and barricade the door behind me.

My friend found me later that morning, sound asleep on the chair, duvet ‘round me, still clutching my rolled-up magazine - waiting. He walked into the room and casually shooed the monster out the window. Mortified, I went back to bed.

*****

Some psycho woman went for me in the bar last night.

I quietly, smiley-ly, politely asked her to stop spraying deodorant on her feet in the middle of the bar, as another customer had said they were allergic to those sprays. I suggested she maybe go up to the bathroom or something.

“Are you threatening me? Fuck off!”
No, of course not, there’s no need to raise your voice…
“Where are you from? Listen you dirty cunt, I’m a Dub, right? I’ll kick the fuckin’ gee out of ye!”

Charming, eh? I’m still not sure what I said to set her off.

Unsettling? Yeah! Unexpected? Definately. But scary? Not really. I didn’t know what to do, and when she swung at me and kicked me, I blocked, but mainly just stood there like an eejit, knowing the lads would be back any minute to gimme a hand, quietly asking her to calm down – I knew I’d be in serious trouble if I so much as laid a hand on her, and didn’t raise my voice once. By the end I’ll admit I got a little thick with her, maybe – but you should’ve heard her!

Anyway, the other barmaid finally came downstairs and helped me get rid of her. She’ll be barred for good. Turns out she was barred years ago for similar erratic/violent behaviour. Our club’s like a magnet for oddballs… What happens to people to make them that way?

That should have been scary, right? Apart from the (godsent) customer who stepped between us, I was on my own with the batty bitch.
But it was grand, like. I kept my cool.
And yet I’m petrified by a little wasp?

*****

Today, I heard that familiar, harsher-than-yer-average buzz… and froze.
But, this time, I didn’t sprint out of the room and slam the door in panic. OR hide in the bathroom.

I kept calm(ish)… I crept over to the window that it was bopping its stupid little head against. I slowly reached up – my hands inches from the tiny, angry beast – and pushed it open. And… miraculously… out it flew!

Just like that.

I am so proud of myself.

In another, maybe.

2009-05-28T12:22:00.002+01:00

And, with a sharp gasp that could be felt in the air, the plane took off. She wasn’t watching, but could feel it. By some invisible string, trailing from the craft, a weight was hoisted roughly, and her tense shoulders rolled and slumped into a sigh. She was free. The spell had lifted. She had revisited the past and found it as crisp and clear as her memory – and unchanged.

Intense, vivacious, almost convincing... and finally over. Not what she had hoped; but exactly as she expected.

She had asked for nothing, and received generously of it; lost nothing, and gained some insight, and her answer.

It wasn’t her fault.

Deja Vu

2009-05-26T01:51:00.004+01:00

My sister's graduation was last Thursday - she's officially finished secondary school (starting the Leaving Cert. in mere days - eep! I don't envy her that..)

It was... weird.

I went with my dad, because my mum was away on a trip she'd booked long before she knew the grads date. Doesn't it always work out that way? Anyway, I said I'd go - I wanted to. I've been dying to go back to that school for a long, long time.

And I had all these ideas in my head...
I was going to talk to my Irish teacher (who'd thought I wasn't great, but had potential) and tell him how much I'd learned and how involved in Saol na Gaeilge I was now, and how big a part of my life the language is now... how much I'd seen and heard and learnt... all my plans...

And I was gonna talk to my old English teacher, and tell him all about how journalism was going and thank him again for being such a huge inspiration.

And I was gonna talk to my old Art teacher, and tell him I've been neglecting my drawing etc. but that I'm getting back into it. And ask him how things were; that I'd heard he'd been ill.

And I was gonna talk to my old maths teacher - and thank him for scaring me off going to Art college. He probably saved me.

And I was gonna walk in with my head held high.

...

It didn't quite go like that.
It was really, really strange.

My sister's friends told her her dress was too "club-wear"-y, so I lent her one of my dresses.. and a handbag... and some shoes... and my jacket... and she walked out of the house looking EXACTLY like 18-year-old me. In fact... I remember wearing that dress to the year above me's grads...

As I walked in with my dad, my old principal (standing in the exact same spot, shepherding people the exact same direction) stopped me to ask what class I was in. I had a feeling he was just about to comment on the fact I was late, when he did a double-take and said, "Oh! Sorry. It's your sister."

At the ceremony, they read the same poem - Desiderata - that they'd read at mine. And, just like last time, I mouthed along - having memorised the words years ago. I was a little rustier this time.

The speeches were the very same kind of funny... students and teachers poking fun at each other with all the same jokes. Nothing much had changed... Jibes at the two young, spikey-haired, lads-lads teachers; "hedgehog one and hedgehog two, aka, Jack and Jones"... And, about getting suspiciously overdressed when heading out to the library...

The choir sang all the cheesy goodbye songs... The "talented" kids had their bitta the spotlight. The token (slightly rockerish) band played a set... No one paid attention as the trad soc played incredibly well... Two blatantly popular fellas butchered Galway Girl to riotous applause...

As 18-year-old me collected her little certificate and class bracelet thingie (clearly nervous, and just a little awkward in herself - I wished she knew how gorgeous she looked) Dad snapped away, commenting on how much easier it was to get a good shot this time, being so much closer.

And then there were refreshments - tea, coffee, and the exact same finger food. It was even laid out the same. I snubbed the sambos and made a beeline to where I felt the springrolls would be. There they were.

Whatever triumphant confidence I thought I'd feel...didn't happen. With my now blonde hair, and my glasses (which I wouldn't have been seen DEAD in back then), not ONE of my teachers recognised me in all the faces.

The students didn't know me. The teachers didn't know me. The parents didn't know me. The feeling was all too terribly familiar. I felt as invisible and lost and jittery as I had on my first day at school. Being in that place set a lot of old nerves singing...

I - eventually - got up the courage to approach my maths teacher. Gesturing to myself; "Aoife Ryan" sparked an excited recognition. He was delighted to see me! Full of questions and praise and, well, everything I'd expected! We had a great chat. And I spoke to one or two more teachers after that (each time having to introduce myself).

Though it kinda seemed so at first, I haven't been forgotten... I've just changed a lot. So much that I'm unrecognisable.

Which is exactly what I wanted.

I guess.

Morning...!

2009-05-19T09:43:00.007+01:00

... has broken! Well, a good few hours ago at this stage. My first in a while... Didn't sleep. I'll get round to it later on!

There was a horrible racket outside and I thought it must be the binmen or something... went to investigate (in full crazy-lady getup: pink bathrobe, ski socks, squinty eyes, cigarette, morning hair...)

Peering out the window, it turned out it was neighbours of mine! (who I couldn't pick out in a line-up, if I'm honest..) Anyway they'd loaded all their belongings into a "Rent-a-Skip" and then some scruffy driver/mover/crane-operating guy crane-lifted it onto the back of his truck... and off they noisily went. (Good thing I WASN'T asleep, actually..)

The only times I seem to see the really early morning (5.30am-7.30am) is when I stay up for it.. (eg. had to get an early flight once.. only chance I had of waking up on time was not going to sleep!)
Sometimes, yeah, it happens that an early rise is forced on me (for one usually-stupid reason or another)... but I didn't sleep because I wanted to see it today! :D

I'll sleep in the afternoon - I can afford that. I've seen PLENTY of afternoons. I'm sick of afternoons. It's such a dull time to wake up. Everyone's awake already and gone off doing things, and you feel so left behind that it's easier to decide; fuck it, I'll never catch them... Afternoon's the least remarkable, most reliable time of day.

Whenever I have to remember to do something, I'll set my phone reminder for 3pm. Always. It's a good reliable time - it's rare you'll find people sleeping at 3pm. FAR too early to go to bed and, unless it's a particularly evil hangover day, far too late to be still asleep. So... it's usually a good time to remind myself of whatever needs doing.

Anyway. Yeah. Watching Morning Ireland. They're all a buncha head-wreckers! I know morning shows are obliged to be perky and chirpy and so on.. but they're about as sincere with each other as they are interesting... It's like a horribly forced atmosphere - like a dinner party everyone's been guilted into going to. And the mini-fashion show's a bit... Gak.

Although, I LOVE the sweet old won they had on making omlettes.

I've had breakfast (a stale pita bread, tea, and a cigarette) but think I'll go out for something...well.. something that resembles food a little more closely...

Maybe a breakfast roll! Or a Mc-WhatevertheFucktheySellintheMornings! Just for the novelty...

Yeah. I've decided I like this. Morning's are nice and interesting and longer days = more time to play around with. Nights are my thing, true.. and always have been.. but time to shake off my body-clock rut and see what I'm missing.

A little surprise.

2009-05-18T17:49:00.005+01:00

I found this written on the back cover of a tattered, yellowed copybook at work:

For Good Human Relationships
Speak to people
Be sincerely cordial
Smile at people
Call people by name
Be friendly and helpful
Be genuinely interested in people
Consider the feelings of others
Be alert to render service
Respect the opinions of others
Praise generously;
Criticise cautiously.

You can come across the oddest things in my bar… It was so strange. Just a normal copybook. God knows what made them print this on the back – in big bold print, with no clear reason for it, except… well, why not? Maybe that particular printing company had a notion they’d change the world… One copybook at a time! ^_^

It certainly gave me something to think about that night at work

Nothing stressed me out today.

2009-05-13T22:20:00.006+01:00

I hate this. I'm bored - something that doesn't happen a lot. Le tamall anuas, whenever I've had nothing to do, I've collapsed in a heap and slept - tired from all the stuff I was doing!

I shouldn't have taken the day off. Precious few left. After Friday, no more Work Experience. And no luck on the job front just yet. What will I do?

I have no new "news". I tried on a dress I didn't like... Thought about the logo I'm working on... Sketched on some scrap paper... Got a Quiznos... It was fun, like, but...

Nothing stressed me out today. Nothing. Today was just... a day...

.. Wasted?

Dublin at 6am is lovely.

2009-05-07T07:50:00.004+01:00

Especially today. It's bitterly cold (or, "brisk", if you prefer), but bright, and promises to be warm when the sun gets a little higher... and cold tonight, maybe... Ideal.

An old friend told me I'd make a good weather girl. I scoffed; hopefully my Journalism degree will get me further than THAT. He meant it in a nice way, though...
God, I hope he's doing ok.
'Though I can safely assume he's not.
But... it's not my business anymore.
And that's ok.

It's funny how much easier it is to get out of bed when you wake up happy.

Back to my roots.

2009-05-04T19:50:00.002+01:00

I was at a metal gig in Limerick last night.
Hero in Error - Dublin band.
They're alright! But it was just... so... much... fun. So energizing. I miss that shit.

There's nothing better than a metal gig. Nothing. The first PROPER, big, open-air concert I was ever at was Metallica at the RDS in '04. And I will never forget it as long as I live.

I remember that ticket was the first Valentine's present I had ever gotten. And I still think it was the best. It was a hell of a risk on his part, if ya think about it – we’d only been together about 2 weeks! And the gig was in June!

I got him a joke-gift. Y'know… We hadn't been together very long, and I thought it'd be cool.
It...erm...wasn't... especially when he proudly presented me with my very thoughtful, expensive gift, and heartfelt card.

***

We got to Dublin. Way, way too early. And it was way, way too sunny. We stopped by Asha in Steven’s Green – I bought a cool “…And Justice” necklace and a horrible top. I got it because it wasn’t too bulky, and had Metallica written on it, but just tied it ‘round my waist for the day. Horrible. Wore the necklace, though. Still do the odd time, even though it’s broken.

So, into the queue. My head was burning. I suspected I was getting a migraine - nooooo! I'd soldier through it. Standing in the sun, mostly in black (blergh. too warm!), glaring at the awkward twits in support-band Tees. (the sheer cheek!)

I was nervous. I thought about the big crowd and the crush and getting shoved around. Everyone was a lot bigger, and badder-looking than me. Except for a few scrawny Slipknot fans (with their trade-mark bad tattoos).

We got into the RDS and headed for the main arena. Lost Prophets were first. I grabbed C’s hand and practically dragged him through crowds of mean-looking biker-types… their piercings and sweaty foreheads glistening in the sun. I thought, if I wanted to be at the front, this was my best chance. Lost Prophets fans were bound to be the easiest to push through. And I made it! About half-way through their set, I was within reaching-distance of the barrier.

What was I wearing… Red boots (very uncomfortable – but flat at least), probably teamed’m with a skirt, which I can safely assume was black (but I don’t remember…), and a red sleeveless Punky Fish top which, at the time, I thought was the COOLEST thing EVER. (Uncomfortably tight, it had a zip all the way up the front, and back. So, in theory, you could rip it in two. Unnecessary, and clearly asking for trouble, but no one ever went there! It used to catch on my belly-button piercing... Ick. I couldn’t wear it these days – it being disgracefully tacky and all…)

So, the poor Profs got booed off the stage. The biggest cheer they got was for mentioning the word “Metallica”. A hail of bottles and abuse. A friend of C’s chucked something that hit one of them in the head. Really feel bad about that. I didn’t join in. They’re not a bad band. The crowd just wanted to emphasise that they didn’t belong there. It wasn’t cool. But… I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t hilarious.

“Thanks for your fucking support.” And they sauntered huffily off stage.
Some skinhead guy in front of us shouted; “Don’t listen to them guys! I still love you! Woooo!”

Well… that’s nice!

***

So, my head’s getting quite sore… this is gonna be one of the BADder migraines… but all I had to do was get through Slipknot. And at least we were at the front!
“Aoife, I’m getting a little claustrophobic… can we go back?”
Are you kidding me?!? But, dutifully, I took his hand and barged my way back out. It was nice to have a little space. I guess.
My head was killing me.

***

So, I never really liked Slipknot. Bang bang bang music. Boiler-suits and stupid masks. Seemed a little too theatrical and…well… y’know… just didn’t understand their appeal. And don’t think calling your fans “maggots” is very nice.

They charged on stage. Crowd freaked out. I started to kinda get into it. Their music blasted the pain right out of my head. Maybe it was adrenaline, maybe it was the frequency of the bang bang bangs, maybe it was that I’d taken the top from around my waist and draped it over my head to keep the sun off… but I couldn’t feel a thing. Nice one! I started hoppin’ around, whippin’ my hair about, tried to encourage C to get into the mini-mosh pit that’d formed near-by, and, when he wouldn’t, bounced in myself. Wooooo!

(By the way, C’s coming across badly in this, but bear in mind he wasn’t feeling great. Food-poisoning from Subway the day before. He got a card for free subs for a year because of it! But never really took full advantage of it. Which pissed me off no end.)

Some guy fell on the ground. Oh my God he’s going to die.

“BACK OFF! FUCKING BACK OFF!” – some massive hairy giant parted the crowds, picked the guy up and grumbled; “You ok man?”
“Yeah.. thanks!”

Metal fans are so nice! Anywhere else and he’d’ve been trampled. It’s not violence for the sake of it – it’s a bit of rough ’n tumble, and all in the name of fun, and they look out for each other. I couldn’t believe it. I had nothing to worry about.

Suddenly some psycho a few feet away starts roaring: “Get the FUCK down! GET THE FUCK DOWN!”

?????

The music was dying down. I looked around and everyone – everyone – tens of thousands of black-clad fans were on their hunkers on the ground. C was too. I got the fuck down. Confused. Going with it.

And then, with thunderous drums, the music went ballistic and the whole RDS leapt to its feet and roared and trashed around and oh… my God…

I understood now. I’ve never bought a CD of theirs, but I’d LOVE to go to another gig. They are phenomenal live. They send the crowds into a frenzy. It’s an helluva rush! ^_^

***

Away from the main arena, sprawled on the grass, moaning.
“How can I help?”
“I dunno. Step on my head. No. Get me some chocolate or something.”
The minute the music stopped, the pain came back. I didn’t know if I could take much more. What fucking awful timing. My day is ruined.
He came back with the chocolate. It didn't help.
“They’ll be on any minute.”
I got up and shuffled miserably alongside him, and we headed back to the fray.

***

Just as we came through the passage-thing, Ecstasy of Gold started up. That’s Metallica’s entrance music, borrowed from an old western, promising something great.
The scene opened out in front of us, entrance music still soaring, and I got this tightness in my chest, and butterflies, and something else too. It was overwhelming. The crowd seemed to have doubled, tripled in size. I know people say this a lot, but you actually COULD feel the excitement and anticipation. It felt like I’d been waiting forever for this. We all had. Thousands and thousands of fans. And these heroes – these absolute legendary men – standing there. They were right there. Right in fucking front of us.

And they opened with the first song on my favourite album and I freaked - out. Blackened. One of the best intros to any song ever. Really got the gig going. Migraine didn’t even exist anymore.

When it was over, and we were sufficiently revved up (they were starting things on a high that was to continue…)
Hetfield:
“Gimme an M!”
“Gimme an E!”
“Gimme a T!”
“… GIMME FUEL GIMME FIRE GIMME THAT WHICH I DESIRE!” – Fuel!! Not the best song, and a pretty obvious way to introduce it, but still, UNREAL!!

And it went on and on and got better and better. And the sun was gone. And the stage was radiant. I called a friend (who nearly cried) and held my phone on high, to join the thousands of others, during Nothing Else Matters.

A pyramid of about 20 smelly men formed over to the right somewhere. I can’t remember what comment Hetfield made about that, but I remember it was hilarious.

Hammett was mesmerising.
Lars was…Lars!
And that large, hulking dude (who was the newbie then and, to me, still is) was actually pretty cool.

And they apologised for having forgotten to play Whiskey in the Jar the previous year. And proceeded to play the HELL out of it to make up for it.

And they closed with Seek and Destroy and we were left angry, breathless, and on a wild rush – I’ve never felt so high.

And when it all went quiet, and I came back down to earth……
“… Ow… oh fuck… ow…”
Remember me? Migraine’s back!
Ah, fuck it, it was worth it.
One of the best memories I’m lucky enough to have.

***

I love all different kinds of music. And all sorts of gigs are great. But... nothing compares to the pumping adrenaline ya get from good, old-fashioned metal... :)

On the Red train.

2009-05-03T02:19:00.007+01:00

I missed the last bus home (by AGES).
I missed the last train home (9pm) by minutes.
I proceeded to panic.
Aaaargh!

BUT my panic was wasted. There were two additional, slightly-later services loading! “Rugby Special” trains. This one left at 9.20pm, exclusively for Thurles and Limerick. It’s full of good-humoured (if mildly disappointed) Munster Fans. (But at least there’s an Irish team in the final. *nods*)

I think I’m the only plain-clothes person on the train. People are looking at me like I’m foreign. No one even sat next to me. (Well, my pile of bags and "I’m-Asleep" act may have deterred them…) I’m a Munster girl, though! I swear!

Know that Supermac’s in Heuston station? Usually empty. Tonight? Thronged. Supermac's is very much our thing. :)
I regret now that I turned my nose up at the queue – there’s a guy a few feet away with a chicken burger and it…smells… so… good… What I’d give for a Curry Chip ’n Cheese and a CanaCoke now! Ah well. I bought posh train-juice and an extortionate Freshways sandwich. I got funny looks for asking for Egg and Bacon, and, when they didn’t have that, Ham Salad. Fuck off. I like pig meat, and you’re an idiot.

I also heard a kid shout “Piggy!” when someone sneezed earlier. The swine flu thing’s getting tiresome. But ya can’t BUT laugh at the online buzz... Like Swineflu - The Game. ^_^

Anyway. Heuston station was dearg le daoine. Packed with Red jerseys with sloppy pints bein' waved around. But no-one annoying. No prominent assholes.

I’d much rather be on a Munster train home than a Leinster one.

I can never get my head around the chasm of a difference between Munster and Leinster Rugby. In Limerick, everyone likes Rugby. You just do. You don’t even need to LIKE Rugby to like Rugby. You don’t need to watch the match, even. (‘Though, it’s better craic if you do!) What’s not to like? Families, friends, strangers in the pub, schools, parishes, whatever; we all get behind the team. It’s always a mad and messy night out, and always good craic, and just a good buzz all ‘round.

And when they’ve got the big, BIG screen on O’Connel St… wow… It really is spectacular. The whole city just stops: everything revolves around this colossal projection and everyone’s laughing and cheering and jeering and biting their nails… It doesn’t matter what area you’re from, or who you are – you’re in Limerick and you’re in Red and everyone’s in it together. Whose idea was that big screen anyway?! It’s GREAT! At least once, everyone should experience being squashed into a crowd, watching a match, standing in the street… (sneakily sipping yer Cider can, and NOT climbing the lamp posts, please.)

Rugby’s a funny kind of relief for Limerick. It’s the one time where everyone’s on the same side. The snobby areas chill out, the dodginess dies down… The bad press gets Red-washed over for a while.

Then in Dublin it’s a cliquey statusy thing? I’ll never understand it.

(written on train, no Internet, forgot to post ‘till now, after getting home and watching half of Tropic Thunder.)

And also...

2009-05-02T06:50:00.007+01:00

I was just reading one of my posts from only a few months ago - and I barely recognise myself. The way I wrote it... my attitude...

I'm just tired.
All this in the last few months really IS wearing me out. I miss having time for my friends, for my family, for me... just time.

Summer soon. So soon.

I don't even think I'm up for getting the bus now after all. The post-work buzz had me all... well... buzz-y... but now I just feel drained. 's what's expected when ya don't sleep, I guess.
Think I'll just lie down. -_-

Today, I'm missing my old friends.

2009-05-02T06:17:00.004+01:00

(And I haven't slept yet, so, by today, I mean Friday.)

I can't sleep. It's after 6am. I'm that eager to just be back at home. Even if it's just for a day and a bit. The first bus is at 7.30.

I always hated Limerick when I was "stuck" there; when I moved there from rose-coloured Galway... I looked forward to Dublin's new start so much.
Nothing's any different here.
I mean, yeah, things are good. Interesting, at least. But... dammit...

I've been looking for a job in Dublin. But I've only realised today that... well... I haven't been looking very hard. To be honest, part of me would LOVE if I didn't find anything, and ended up "stuck" in Limerick for the summer.

I found out today that a friend of mine is apparently engaged. Mad. It stung to have a complete randomer tell me - a jackass music-snob whose name I can't even remember - when I'm supposed to be.....
Well, I haven't heard from her in a long time.

I know she thinks I wouldn't approve - but that's not entirely fair. I would. Hell, I snuck them around for years! Despite thinking he was bad news, I did whatever I could to make her happy.

I wonder if that's why we haven't kept in touch... 'cos she thinks I won't understand.

TGInotFanymore.

There's a surprise...

2009-04-29T18:54:00.014+01:00

D'other day I was given my first proper translating task:
Gaeilge -> English.
And, sadly enough, I found it fascinating! It's very, very like editing. And I very, very much love editing. But it's got the extra dimension of having to move between languages. And is, therefore, more difficult. (= more fun!)

It's like when I used to do life-drawing in Art class and it'd be perfect...spot on... every time....... except that I'd always 'neglect' to include that pimple, or the squint in their eye, or the frizz in their hair. I'd tidy their eyebrows... once, I even reshaped someone's nose! Just slightly. Just enough for them to say "Oh wow.. that looks just like me! Actually, I look really pretty in it!"

Ha. Editing people. Maybe that's why I like make-up so much. (especially crazy stage/costume make-up)

I love editing. Love love love it. I have been offered a certain editing position in DIT that I'm not sure if I can talk about yet... actually, I might have mentioned it on here before... God, i hope not... woops... but, anyway, I'm VERY interested. Yes, I'll be in my final year. Yes, it's quite a lot of extra work. But it's paid! And it's what I love. And it's less hours spent in this place.

Yes, I'm still on Harcourt St... but it's Feidhliocht tonight and that's easca peasca. With free coffee and bikkies.

Like normal, day-to-day, English->(better)English editing, you have a lot of freedom to do what you like with the text, but are kinda-sorta-not-really obliged to show some sort of respect for the original writer's take on it. And I like to... usually... except with that irritating German Erasmus chick...

*****sidetrack story***** ^_^
I was overall editor of our class' first edition of the Liberty (March-ish '08). We only get one shot at it, I was the only one stupid/ballsy enough to shoot my hand up, and, by God, I made the most of it. Complete layout overhaul (because it was boxy and horrible and dim.. btw, they've used ours for every issue since... *grin*) Anyway; German girl. I assigned a sub to her article, and she came moaning to me that they'd done it wrong. I asked her to talk to them about it, not me, as I had MOST of the rest of the editing/layout to do and the "team" of 20-something had dwindled to about 6 (on a good day...) and we were WAY behind schedule. But, when she once again found them "unhelpful", she went to 2 (yes, two) different lecturers who red-penned the article like a Leaving Cert. Irish paper. Back she trotted to me, proud as punch: "See? Here? I was right. This is not edited properly." And (frustrated, stressed, and low on nicotine) I asked, flatly; "You want it edited properly?"
"Yes!"
Ok.
I cut it, from over 600, down to 200 words. It was a ridiculous story idea, written all wrong, terrible English (that we would have let slide as she was an Erasmus student, but, she said properly...), very little interest or point... and I made a concise, pleasant, easy-to-read piece out of it. Unrecognisable.

There. Edited. Properly.
******************************

And we're back!

In case you've forgotten what you're reading:

Translating. Like editing. Only harder.

It's almost got an element of mathsy problem-solving to it. You have to break it down, take it apart, make sense of it in your head, and get down to the root of what the person's saying. Then re-say it. In editing, you have a frame that you can follow if you like - and you usually needn't rewrite the whole thing.

But translating - it's amazing. Blank canvas. You can say things in a hundred ways. And, when you aimsigh the perfect one - it's very, very satisfying. You need to forget about the language you're translating from, and start with no distractions!

That's why i find English->Gaeilge MUCH harder.

That's what they had me doing today. I'll never be as good as I am with the reverse, because English rules in my head and always will, and all I'll create is an Irish version of what I want to say, and I'm not allowed touch the English either! (which can be frustrating)

Ah hell... I still love it...!

But any of my Saol na Gaeilge friends who talk about how there's money in translating, srl... It just seems soooo.....
I dunno if it's for me. I could do it all day - every day. But there are a LOT of things I COULD do all day, every day. I think I'd quite like it. And my Irish - and English - would improve beyond belief. But... what about all these other things I wanna do that are far more interesting and risky...?

Thazit..

2009-04-27T21:40:00.004+01:00

I'm tired. I'm done for the day. I wanna roll downstairs and have a cup of coffee. Then a cigarette. Then maybe another coffee. Then I'll go home and sleep.

But Aoife, you haven't posted in ages! Won't you write something interesting?!

Well, sorry, but this is all I've got at the moment.

Oh! I finished my cartoons. :) I'm very proud of them.

I've forgotten about that art competition - the deadline's Friday. There's still time! I just gotta get my act together. I have my idea, and even decided exactly how I'm gonna do it and what with - all I need is to set aside those 2 hours to actually DO it.

Oh, and I was gonna buy a scarf today! 'Cos I didn't bring one, as it was so beautiful when I left the house... but, by the time I got to work, I knew it was only gonna get colder. And I was right! It's freezing.

But I forgot to. So I'll be cold walking home.

So might stay for a drink. Just one. Central heating.

*shrugs*

"You are where you live"

2009-04-19T18:02:00.007+01:00

Something in the Sunday Times (Irish, so we're clear) today caught my eye... stuffed in at the edge of Page 8 (most of the rest of which is taken up by a massive, melodramatic anti-smoking article calling for an overall ban on smoking in cars (to protect children, of course) ... Jan Battles can shove it)

It was about people of like minds/personalities gravitating to certain areas... living "in clusters"... very interesting... Not the (fairly basic) article (which I won't bother quoting, even), but the idea.

Do we?

The study was led (a while ago, now) by a Jason Rentfrow)... <-that's a link to a nice little page where he blathers on about it. Lovely little pic, too. Aaw. Lookit him. Proud as punch.

Maybe that's why I wanted out of (close-minded, divided) Limerick the minute I set foot in the place. Or why Phi and I both ended up in (dirty, rushing) Dublin. Or why I wanna move back to (cool, down-to-earth) Galway.

Phi said to me the other day that she thinks she's more suited to city life - she doesn't like to be on her own, likes to keep busy, and loves the general buzz. "You never know who you mind meet!" apparently. Dunno about that. How often do you meet, and chat to, new people in the city?

Though, I'd a lovely (if a bit strange) conversation with a fella on the Luas today - but that NEVER happens.

Right now, we have work and college. That's where we meet people (or... in nightclubs) and that's our community.

Read this - much better article (even though this one's about how his study relates to America). Had to laugh at the bit about the neurotic "Stress belt" - love it!
Maybe I'll move there. :P

Of all days...

2009-04-17T17:30:00.003+01:00

Today I wanted to be fearless and confident.

Instead I am uncomfortable, heavy, icky, and slow.

I hate being a girl.

Eep.

2009-04-16T18:35:00.006+01:00

I feel anxious. Since Tuesday night. Way, way, way, weh-heh-heeey too much happened Tuesday night. Still soaking it all in. Head whirring. Clearly I should never go away for a week. EVER.
I was away for too long and.. -= BAM =- ..come back to all this accumulated crazy.

Ok, that pic's a little bit of an exaggeration - I'm not pulling my hair out. Not quite. But I got carried away - and doesn't it look cool? Did it on Paint, in about 3 mins, and using a laptop touchpad?!
If I were you, I'D be impressed.... :P

Christ...

I can't believe ANY of it. Tuesday Bloody Tuesday.

Nice to see J again, axly.. Didn't see THAT one coming! What're the chances he'd walk by the very second I happened to be running up to lock the gate? Mad. Hope we both meant what we said about being friends. I didn't expect to be as happy to see him as I was. We were better as friends.

Anyway. I feel anxious.

Often when I feel anxious, I get a sick stomach.
Check.
And usually a migraine.
Check.
And I barely say two words to anyone.
Check.
And I can't decide what to wear so, distractedly, I throw on any old crap - adding to the overall air of troubled-ness.
Check.

Omg, I haven't even done my make-up properly today.
This is bullcrap. Fuck this. Snap out of it.

I'm just tired and grumpy.

Plan of action:
Shop. Neurofen Plus. Coke. Crappy Centra Sushi. Home. Shower. Sit in jamies, draw and draw and draw, and watch Breakfast at Tiffany's. Or, any DVD, really. Bitta Marilyn or Carey Grant, mebbe?

Song of the day: Pokerface.
Yes, we're all sick of it, but fuck it.

Look! An Art Competition!

2009-04-14T12:54:00.002+01:00

I'm gonna enter.

I haven't entered one since I was about 11.

I'll let you know how I do.

Galway? :)

2009-04-14T00:23:00.009+01:00

I can’t believe how much that week in Galway affected me. I’m still thinking about that week; last week. But not the nights out, not the classes, not the people I was with, not the funny moments - not even the WEEK… all that was fun, and very memorable etc… but all I can think about is the very last day.

We left Connemara and were dropped in Galway City on Friday to make our way home from there. And then I kinda accidentally lost everybody; heading off to check when my bus was, knowing the group was getting food, and then the train, together. I could’ve stretched to afford the train, but the bus was cheaper…

Also, I think after spending a week hanging out with people, a little self-company is pretty appealing… Ar aon nós, in the end, it was for the best because I decided to go to Limerick instead!

The bus wasn’t leaving for almost 2 hours.
So, laden down with bags (I am The Bag Lady – I always over-pack. It’s easier than deciding what to bring. I still never take the right stuff), I wandered the streets of Galway for a little while.

Here’s something weird – I was completely lost and don’t know my way around at all, but I kinda felt at home. I recognised little pieces (signs, shopfronts, funny micro-landmarks like confectionary stands – the odd, insignificant stuff a younger me remembered) here and there. More than anything, though, I recognised the vibe of the place. It felt comfortable. A better fit.

I barely even remember living in Galway, but I miss it. Is that mental?
… Probably a little.

When I moved to Limerick first, I hated it. I made friends (eventually) but I always hated it. I refused to say I was from Limerick. I was from Galway. My passport still said so. But I don’t still say so. After nearly a decade in the place, I stopped insisting I was from Galway, and instead set my sights on Dublin: new, big, busy, far away.

Anyway, I’ve decided I wanna live in Galway for a while. Not now – I have one more year left in my Journalism and Irish course. When I’m done, though, I’d like to look for a job – any job – there, and find a flat (on my own, or with randomers/students – don’t care) and just… see what it’s like. Start again. See what happens.

When I moved to Dublin, it was on my own. I wanna do the same again. Off to Galway, no plan, maybe sign up to some sort of something to have an excuse to go/opps to meet people once there, but I don’t really have a reason, or care what I do there. I feel like I want to go. And I’m gonna.

Maybe there’s a drawing course I can do? That sounds good. That’s my greatest love, and I’ve been ignoring it.
Why? ‘Cos I got scared away from pursuing it by someone who meant well and was right about everything else.

I don’t feel at home in Dublin, except in the Harcourt “Asylum”. And I don’t feel at home in Limerick, except in my parents’ house.

Maybe I won’t feel at home in Galway either, I wonder if it’s nothing more than a buncha rose-coloured kiddie memories… but the last time I did feel home-y was when I lived there, and an hour’na’half of wandering its streets last Friday was enough to make me think that it might still be possible to get that “home” feeling back.

I needed to get away from the exhausting, repetative schedule I've had for the last while and open my eyes. I'm glad I did.

Teehee..

2009-04-11T01:49:00.002+01:00

I just realised - it's no longer Good Friday!

Sherry before bed, perhaps? ^_~

Highlighting what's important...

2009-04-10T23:48:00.002+01:00

Earlier, was in Galway bus station, queuing for a ticket, smacking my lips and preparing to say “Student single to Dublin”... Then I changed my mind. I am now in Limerick. (Which is a bit of a surprise even to me)

I like it! Good to be home. Home-Home, not Dublin-Home.. Home-Home’s where the heating works, and the fridge is always full, and there’s a big tv, and a house phone, and a dog.. It’s where my room is. I love my room. I still have my Lion King curtains up, simply because I LOVE the strange red hue they throw on my (densely teddy-bear-populated) bedroom every morning... then there’s those kickass posters to remind me of my “crap” (ie. awesooome) early music tastes..

I spent the week in the Connemara Gaeltacht to improve my spoken Irish and… know the funniest part?
I spoke less Irish this week than ANY other week since… I dunno… September of last year? Apart from perhaps Christmas time, and the week I spent in Virginia this summer.

It’s only recently occurred to me that most of the friends I’ve made since coming to Dublin have, or are involved with, An Ghaeilge. I work trí Ghaeilge. I live in Irish-language accommodation. Most of the texts, calls, and about 30% of all emails I receive, are as Gaeilge. As for a base/home/comfort-zone community type thing? Rather than my college campus, it's that old madhouse on Harcourt street!

The hell..? If you’d told me Irish would become this big a part of my life two years ago, I’d have laughed in your face.

I pulled a Des Bishop before Des Bishop pulled a Des Bishop. True, I had the advantageous 13 years of groundwork (not that it counts for much) and, true, my tv series wouldn’t have been half as entertaining (being a far, far less successful comedian)… but I still can’t get my head around how far I’ve come.

I was thinking back… trying to figure out how it all started… how I went from grumbling about how annoying Irish "The School Subject" was, to raving about how vibrant and fascinating Irish "The Language" was.

Y’know what started it all?

A free highlighter!

It was societies sign up week in my first year in DIT. September 2006. And all the college societies were desperately pleading their case to new members – vying for the firsties’ attention – waving bags of freebies. Great buzz.

Anyway, I spot the free highlighters immediately. I love highlighters – cannot study without them. Pink is the first go-over, then yellow over the pink, so I know that the orangey bits are all I really need. Then I rewrite orangey bits onto new page, highlight, take out the orangey bits, and repeat until all I have left is one page full of mismatched words that make no sense to anyone else, but are all I need to glance at going into an exam. Each one stands for a whole paragraph - or a whole chapter, sometimes!

Anyway, these were great ones. Dual-headed! Pink and Yellow! AAAAGH!

Over I went, and I was assaulted by the most chirpy, friendly, and impossible-to-understand person I have ever met. Dazzled by her incomprehensible Donegal Irish, I took everything she handed me and hurried away.

Ended up really liking the Irish Soc (Cumann Gaelach - in fact, I'm now its Chair..) When they text me saying there was a “Léamh scripte” (or something) on, I was like, oh how nice! They’re going to read a script to me! :)

I turned up. Roomfull of actors. Not a word of English being spoken. And I was handed a script. Uh oh.

Despite not even understanding the title of the play, and not being able to pronounce a single one of my lines correctly, I was offered a small part – I looked the part, apparently! (I was told this, smiled dimly, half-memorised what was said, had someone translate later, and was THEN delighted.)

Weeks, then months, of rehearsing, and going to the pub afterwards, straining to get the gist of the conversation… most of the jokes went over my head… most of what I said made no sense and made me look like an idiot. But.. I gradually got better.

I’m thinking of doing one of the TEG (Teastas Eorpach na Gaeilge) exams to see exactly what my standard is at these days. I have no idea (it’s been so gradual and mostly hit and miss-style learning) but I’m told I’m quite good. And I speak it every day these days. As much (or perhaps more) than English.

I actually.. sincerely.. utterly.. undoubtedly... did NOT miss the fucking internet this week. They HAD a computer room. I was there once. That was plenty.
I felt like I’d woken up.

And now… I’m back online. And have just wasted an hournahalf on facebook/twitter/gmail/here.

Enough! I may just go for a walk.

And also...

2009-03-31T03:42:00.003+01:00

This, right here, is my favourite post on any blog - ever.

Check it out! ^_^ Clickity click!

"Start it off with a Positive Jam"

2009-03-31T02:57:00.015+01:00

I'm feeling more like myself today than I have in a long time. It's great! I took the night off work - yes, I'm down €50, and no, I can't work another night to make it up... but Who. Fucking. Cares.
I had a night off and it felt great.

Bowm Baahow-wowm pah bow'wowm bah dap waaaow... Positive Jam's stuck in my head and I loooove it...

I felt so, so sick and tired earlier. I wasn't even in work for very long - I was so dreading the idea of it, doubled over with a migraine for most of the morning, and I couldn't face going in 'till the afternoon. On my way in, I text a friend and thank GOD he said he'd cover for me tonight because I just couldn't face it.

I don't think I seemed too out of sorts, though. A little, but not nearly as much as I felt; which is always a triumph.

Right now though, I'm anything but out of sorts. Tonight was... therapeutic! And badly needed!

The typing seems to be keeping my roommate up, so I'll keep this short.

I tidied my room this evening. And I mean, REALLY. Reorganised everything, found stuff I forgot I owned, tried on clothes I can't remember even buying, cleaned out all the crap - I now know where everything is, I feel good, and I did it ALL listening to a playlist of what was my favourite music for years!

Old metal albums, bitta Floyd (although I kept skipping to the next song about a minute in - they bore me when I'm not "in the mood" for them, if ya know what I mean!) Lots of Punkins.. love them... bit of old skool punk and chillies and a whole host of surprises from the dozens of old mix cds I made/received over the years that have some of the most bizarre music on'm - God I miss this stuff!

Also, favourite album at the moment? The Hold Steady - Almost Killed Me. Where has this band been all my life?!

For my 21st back in November I got €50 of HMV vouchers and bought CDs for the first time since I was 16. And, feeling a little adventurous, decided I'd go for stuff that I had an inkling I'd like, but that was different to what I'd usually listen to. I didn't allow myself pick up any album by any band who I could name a song by.

So, as well as that fanTAStic CD, I got Narrow Stairs by Death Cab for Cutie (it's ok - I don't LOVE it though... anyone else think the singer's very Placebo-ey?)
And Love's Forever Changes that a friend recommended aaaages ago and that I'd been meaning to check out (didn't strike the chord with me that he insisted it would, but still, happy with my purchase. Different. Very different. And I love different.)

I forgot how much I like music.

I wanna watch Almost Famous again.

I should get that DVD.

God I'm in a great mood. :) I'd forgotten myself in all the busy hectic dramatic bullcrap. More nights off. More music. More gigs, too.. Thursday was fan-fucking-tabulous.

Yes, I hate that word too, but I used "fantastic" earlier and didn't realise till I'd already typed the "fan" part and had to go somewhere with it!

Ha!

Goodnight!

PS - got meself a webcam. I'm thinkin of giving this "Vlogging" lark a go. Any tips?

I ought....

2009-03-28T07:09:00.004Z

... quit drinking.

Just to see.

G'night.

LADY?

2009-03-27T18:46:00.002Z

"This Lady here was wondering..."

woah woah - back up. Lady?!

What happened to Girl?
I think the first time I realised I wasn't "girl" anymore was when someone in a Walmart in Florida said, "Can I help you ma'am?"

Ma'am? I'm not a ma'am! I must've been around 16.
I laughed - must be an American thing...
But it wasn't long 'till I started getting it at home, too.

Mother on street to kid: "Now, let the lady get by."

OH! And the worst yet?
"Where would you like to sit, madam?"

Madam my ARSE. I don't even think my Mum's old enough to warrant "Madam."

What's my age-bracket now... 21-35, right? My God that's a wide box. Imagining where I'll be when I tick the NEXT box is dizzying.

I still remember watching Saved by the Bell and thinking how COOL 16 year olds were and how I would NEVER get to 16. It seemed a lifetime away.

And, y'know, all things considered, my 16th year WAS pretty Sweet.
My first love... Wow. So many good memories... I hope he's well.
I'd found my first "real" friendships since moving to Limerick. (About time!)
My first biiiiiig gig! Metallica! :D Had a soft spot for anything heavy since.
I got my confidence, my happiness, and EVERYTHING back. Badder than ever. Me again. (Well, gradually! But it all started that year.)

Shit. I know there was more. But it won't come to me. Well, it's been a long week.
And it's Friday and I've just finished work and my back is killing me but I'm gonna pop out to meet some Limerick buddies that're here in Dubsville on some sort of college trip (or convention or something).

Really though, 21? When did THAT happen? Where'd all those years go?

I think I knew I was definately An Adult™ was when I got my loan. I'm in debt! And probably will be for most of the rest of my life.

All in all, though, it's exciting. This time next year I'll be nearly finished college. I'll probably have had SOMETHING published (hopefully! Should get onto that.) I'll have built up loads more experience (fingers crossed!) I might even have already decided my next move.

Knowing me? Nah! If anything, I'll be MORE clueless. I'll take a wild stab in the dark and end up somewhere completely unexpected and drive my parents a little bit loopier - but they'll laugh too 'cos it tends to work out for me. Bizarrely.

I mean, Journalism? Changed my mind 20 minutes before the absolute, last minute, online deadline for the change-of-mind CAO (College Application) Form. SO last minute was I, that I didn't even get a reply; seems the server JUST processed it, then closed up.

Whew.

Anyway. Even though, a few days ago, I tweeted that "I think I've aged since last week" (true!), it's not so bad. I may be An Adult™, but I've decided I am NOT "old" until I stop getting ID-ed while buying cigarettes.

I'm awake.

2009-03-25T06:23:00.000Z

.. at 6.24am.

Fuck this. You must be joking,

I have till 4am.

2009-03-23T00:42:00.013Z

Missed my bus and have to stay up to grab one at 4am. Grr.
For once there’s a point to me stayin up till 4!

And no, I can't just go to sleep and get up again - because I know me and I will NOT get up again.

So, hello blog. Fancy keeping me company while I wait?

Y'know… nightbus might be lovely. Dark, silence… the uninterrupted 3’na’bit hours of solitude that makes me look forward to the bus… bit of a nap, watch the sun come up… Nice.

The weekend was… nice. Limerick’s always a bit of a mental, rushed blur. So many people, so little time to see them – rarely get to spend REAL time with any of them. And usually spend most of my Limerick weekends asleep/braindead on couch thinking “my GOD I’m tired… more tea…”

I should try get home more often. Easier said than done, though.

I’m looking forward to the summer – to (hopefully) finding a full-time job in Limerick and re-acquainting myself with the less fair of my two cities.

I hated this place from the moment I moved here. I needed to go to Dublin on my own. I needed to get up, get out, and prove to myself that… well… I dunno.

I needed to prove myself to myself. Prove that I could do it – make a fresh start in a new city and not eff up. Prove all the crap when I moved here wasn’t my fault, but theirs. Prove I deserved better, and start new.

Is it any wonder I got hell in school? Moving to such a famously snobby area? Dickheads.

Escape!

And glittering Dublin was gonna change everything – full of opportunity and adventure. And that’s JUST what happened! And I love my new city – it’s everything I imagined, and more. But… I won’t claim I’m not tiring of it.

And, recently, I'm really starting to miss home - and fast approaching is the day when I can't pretend I live here anymore.

Y’know what I hate? Accidentally hitting “Insert”.

It’s been a nice weekend. Very little is left of all that “nonsense” that’s been going on for the past while. Few rumbles and glimpses of it here and there, but for the most part… All’s quiet… Thank God for that.
I know it’s not "fixed" – by no means is it over either. But it’s… settled. And that’s much easier on everyone than the crazed volatility I’ve come home to for months.

No one seems angry anymore. The space *she* created is doing everyone good – like I knew it would.

That’s a great thing about my family – we’re all quite hot-tempered… but it blows over quickly, and thoroughly. If you’d seen us today, you’d never know.

No, the anger has exhausted itself. I think we’re all a bit sadder, though. And I hate the house this… tidy… uncluttered… quiet.

Highlights of Weekend:
My first "foot bath" experience. I've always thought they were just for girlie girls. But it was heavenly and I don't care.

Movie nights - Friday and tonight - with Mam and Dad, with pizza and oceans of tea.

Free Guinness in the Old Quater Pub during the AMAZING Ireland v Wales match. My God. Best deal ever. No wonder I was hammered.

UNDEFEATED! GRAND SLAM! SIX NATIONS! AAAAAGH! I will remember that match as long as I live. Voice finally coming back - spent whole game roaring (espesh second half - fuck me!)

The food at R's dad's 50th - wow.

Chocolate Brownie - I was disappointed with the main course of today's mothers' day meal in Texas Steak House, but the desert was....*drool* (fyi - I'm NOT a picky eater. So, trust me, Lasagna must have been very, very bad for me not to eat it.)

PS - hope you enjoy strange scribble i added to post. Wanted to brighten it up with something. Couldn't think of shit. So! Tah-freakin'-dah.

My PostSecret. And why I'm "a sucker"

2009-03-21T03:11:00.016Z

"I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do." - Romans 7:15

Found this quote on PostSecret (in someone's reply to one of the cards)... Didn't bother checking if the reference is right. I always like to double-check any quote I lift from someone else.

But it's 3 in the morning and I'm sipping sherry.

So.

I've been daydreaming today about what I'd put on my PostSecret card, if I were to make one... (I had a 3 hour bus ride to myself, ok?) Something so secret it had to be completely anonymous... I started thinking of all sorts of stuff - so much that I toyed with the idea of starting an anonymous blog.

But what's the point of that?

The reason I started this thing was to get over my fear of other people reading my stuff. I was never good at writing letters to people - I'd be happy with them at the time of writing, but I actually asked one or two people to throw out letters I sent them after reading them. Once was nerve-wracking enough - but the thought of it sitting there, for them to re-read at their leisure... *shudder*

That was then - this is now! And I'm getting cooler with it. Slowly. Still get a bit of a gut-wrenching "eek!"-sensation when anyone IRL says they've seen/read/heard about my blog..

But, look at me now! Post number 60, I think? (Around that, anyway!) Far more if you count the many many I deleted (when cold-feet feeling came back)

Yes, so, anon-blog = no help towards that, in any case.

Anyway, I was thinking of how O said I'm a sucker for punishment the other day.
How can I argue? I mightn't like to think so, but I kinda always have been.
I mean, check out this crap - I wrote that over 5 years ago, I think! I was in a similar spot of bother, convinced (just like now) that it was all worth it. That moment, "that" feeling - brief, pointless, empty (as it turns out), but... exciting, right? :)

Someday I'll get some sort of smacht ar mo chuid impulsive rash antics... Someday I'll realise that situations like this, though irresistible to me (ar fáth éigin) are... Silly. No good. Undesirable.
Bad, even!

... Not yet, though.

"I do not understand what I do..." -- but I kinda like it that way.

snigger

2009-03-20T01:42:00.011Z

It's sick, and I shouldn't be so delighted by it, but I just stumbled across a person's Facebook page and LMAO-ed. It's someone who bullied me in primary school - and now they're FAT.

I shouldn't laugh. By their page, they seem like they've become quite a nice person (they had to develop a personality I guess... being FAT and all)

Also, we were all kids (before some of us got FAT) - and kids are stupid and don't MEAN what they're doing. At that age, no one expects the comments they make to affect a person's future - who even thinks about that?

I forgave them all the day of that ceremony they held in my Secondary school for the boy in my year who killed himself. I remember the moment that all that anger left me. A person (who gave me a far worse time than fatty ever did) was in bits crying... and, as I passed (having never spoken to them in years despite being in school together) put my arm on theirs and said something I can't remember.

And they said;
"Sound, Aoife."
And really meant it.

It hit me then; how dumb I was being holding onto that anger for so long. What did it matter?

This person, like fatty, was only one of many who contributed to the bullshit - and I know, I know; one has to take responsibility for the way one deals with things. Yes, it was cruel, yes, it was incessant, and yes, I nearly changed schools because of it (Pride stopped me) And, yes... I lost myself and didn't come back for a long, long time.

But, I grew from it. And, in a lot of ways, it's the best thing that's ever happened to me. Sounds like a cliche, but I'm stronger for it - and miles more confident now than I might otherwise have been. I made some of the best friends I'll ever have, too.

I could've hidden, or gotten rid of, my quirky weird oddness that made them laugh at me. I could've pretended I was someone else. I could've been a sheep like so many of them were. I could've had a much less interesting life.

Maybe I wouldn't have developed my insatiable drive to prove myself. Maybe I wouldn't know myself as well as I do now were it not for years spent as an introvert.

I wouldn't change a damn thing about my life. Because who I am, and where I'm at, today, is AWESOME. Even the crap stuff, the hard times, the heartaches, the (terrible) mistakes, the lowest moments of my life, the losses, the embarrassments, the guilt, the shame, the hurt... It's all a part of me. As much a part of me as any of my successes.

So, thanks! (.... fatty.)

What's in a dream?

2009-03-14T14:03:00.010Z

Now,
I don’t believe in dream interpretation or similar hippy-crap, but I just woke up and would LOVE some opinions on last night’s mental dream.

I’m collecting money at the door to some event, that’s in some sort of weird run-down castle – but the background’s pixellated like an old N64 game… No. More like the first Tomb Raider for PC. The tickets I’m selling are bright, bright pink and people keep passing them around to let other people in.

The event’s like, a book launch – or, well, that’s how it started out... The guy running it was the cute bodhrán player from the gig last night – I think he was supposed to have wrote the book or something..?

I open the book and, for the first 3/4s of it, it’s a fairly normal-looking encyclopaedia-style book –about a fictional museum. Everything’s in it! All the fictional artefacts, the architecture of the building, the non-existent history of the building, even the people who work there and all the visitors. Big colourdy pictures – kinda like one of those children’s nature books. Know the ones I mean?

Then the last few pages are a play – set in the museum – but it doesn’t seem too interesting; it’s literally just about a bunch of weird character’s experience in the museum; taking a tour, stopping at the cafe, strolling round the bookshop, talking shite, in baaaadly attempted accents and costumes that were waaay over-the-top..

There was such a buzz that ALL my friends (from school, college, work) heard about it and arrived. Everyone decided to perform the play immediately (the book was such a smash) and no one would let me join in. My mum left early, so I took her book and started flicking through it while everyone got changed into their mad outfts. I’d no interest in it anyway – but I saw in the book that there was one particularly interesting artefact – a big freakin’ independence-day style alien in some sort of plastic restraint/display-box thing.

Oh yeah, at this point all the stuff was real. Dreams, eh?

So I run off to find it – how cool?! And everyone’s giving out and roarin’ at me ‘cos I’m supposed to be letting people in and the crowd’s getting bigger… but I don’t care! I finally find it and it’s the coolest thing ever. Not moving. Presumably dead. I just gawked at it, and someone (my brother/cousin? Don’t remember) suggests I “plug it in.” Low and behold there’s a remarkably normal-looking cable and plug coming out of the alien’s armoured wrist, and I plug him in to a conveniently close socket.

And then it comes to life and tries to kill everyone.
Actually, it only seems to be chasing me… no one else seems to notice and are goin’ about their business practicing the play and talking shite about how incredible it is. Whenever I pass any of them (fleeing from giant alien shooting lasers at me and making shit of the Tomb-Raider-y background) they shout after me “Hey! Get back on the door!” And I shouted back “I just have to sort this out first – gimme two minutes.”

Bodhrán boy is especially annoyed at me, and my friends who can’t get in – all glaring at me but no one helping, but that’s cool ‘cos if they helped the alien would see them (or so was my logic in the dream) – and it was me plugged it in. I was just like, fuck sake, can’t someone else let people in??

I woke up before I sorted the alien out.
*shrug*

Well?

Damn

2009-03-12T14:57:00.007Z

Shit-Damn-Bollox-Arse-FUCK THIS!

That was very stupid.

... Oh well...

What now, though?

RrrrrRRRRGH! I'm soooooo tiiiiiired ooooooof thiiiiiis...

Who's laughing now?

2009-03-09T03:59:00.007Z

"I laugh at everything (Well, almost)"

I wrote that^ in my profile on Bebo years ago when I first set it up. I've copied and pasted a similar version of the same spiel on roundabout every profile since. I stopped thinking about what I was pasting.

It's on my blogger profile. --->
I look at that line today, and feel like I should remove it.

When I wrote it, it was true, but I wouldn't write it today.

I'm not less happy - I'm very content at the moment!
Just... less carefree, I guess? Significantly less free time too. And... ay... so tired....

Off to bed then!

Yikes

2009-03-03T19:18:00.004Z

This place gets more mental every day!

Right, so, was in college for about 40minutes today helping out with a big society thing (would have loved to have stayed longer) and, when about to leave to go back to work, said "sorry lads I really gotta be getting home"

Home?! Could be a slip of the tongue (like in primary school when you accidentally called your teacher mom) or... well... could have something to do with the 12+ hours a day I'm spending here! Doing your (un-freakin'-paid) work experience in the same place you already work part-time isn't something I'd recommend.

I thrive on being busy and, ok, most days I really love this, and I especially love the work I've been doing with the radio and everything (www.raidiorira.ie!!) ... but I can't help missing what things were like before Christmas; I'd work hard, and play harder, haha... I was busy and stressed, but had it all under control - comfortably enough to still go out and go crazy 3 or 4 times a week.. to still have some free time to speak of. Time for friends too! Think that's the main reason I haven't felt like myself. I like my own company, but not SO MUCH of it.

But, hey, it's better to feel like you've too much going on than too little, right?

(Right!)

Speaking of too much going on... one particular project still hasn't quite gotten off the ground. And it's frustrating, and I'm sure it would probably never come to much even if it did happen... But it's not worth worrying about anymore. I tried. What more can I do? It's not my fault it's not "happening". And I know for a fact that, even in the best-case scenario, it would be more time-consuming than absolutely everything else put together. And I would have even less time for friends/self.

Then again... it might make things easier in another sense.

GrrrrRRR. Headache. That's it. Enough. I've wasted enough time wondering about it and weighing it up. Done. Hands washed of it. Was always a bad idea. Back to drawing board. Different plan. Shiny new plan. (hehe..)

Ní freakin' fiú é. :D

Pizza, pjs agus neart deatach gan tine…

2009-02-22T21:40:00.005Z

Is fada ó scríobh mé as Gaeilge anseo – bilingual intentions kinda gone out the window! Ach tá gaelspell agam ar mo ríomhaire anois. Class. So nílim chomh buartha faoi bhotúin (now it’s just the grammar I’ll fuck up!)
Cá’ll an leabhair “Ceart Litriú” when ya need it, eh?

Ní dheachaigh mé abhaile go Luimneach an deireadh seachtaine seo. I ndiaidh bheith chomh traochta t’réis an seachtain a bhí agam, shochraigh mé fanacht. Níor fhág mé an teach ach faoi dhó ó tháinig mé abhaile ar an Aoine! An cóisir aréir (iontach, ach ró-ólta… def earned a slagging, which i'll recieve Tuesday…), agus an t-aon uair eile a bhog mé óm chathaoir ná cúpla uair a chloig ó shin, nuair a phioc mé suas mo pizza ó Godfathers’ … (Níl sé níos saoire é a phiocadh suas, ach seo an dara huair in as many oícheanta gur fuaireas pizza. Mar sin, shiúl mé, so I wouldn’t feel as guilty/lazy!)

D’fhág mé ráiteas ar mo Facebook aréir a bhí… ait go leor…
Aoife says “Your move…”

Huh?! Aisteach or wha? N’fheadar ceard faoi a bhíos ag smaoineamh… ‘raibh sé dírithe ar duine áirithe? Gach seans go raibh. *shrugs* Though I CAN hazard a guess…

Bhí sé deas am a chaitheamh sa bhaile. Dublin-baile, I mean, not fíor-home. Tá rudaí stormy go leor thiar faoi láthair… agus nílim ag déanamh tagairt ar bith don aimsir… Bhí mé ann an deireadh seachtaine seo chaite. Bhí sé aisteach… gach éinne ag fanacht orm teacht abhaile le mo bhreithiúnas a fháil… Haha… well, not really… scéal fada… ach tá cineál ról agam sa chlann ó chailleadh mo seanmháthair cúpla bhliain ó shin, agus, táim sásta glacadh leis, agus tagann sé chugam go nádúrtha… fós… is mór an brú orm é in amantaí, ar nós i gcás an seachtain seo chaite. Ick. Messy situation.

Sílim gur chabhraigh mé go mór le mo chuid ionchur… Ach, is leor sin. (Ionchur – what a bullshit word! Chum mise focail nua coicís ó shin – Cathairdhreach! Cosúil le Tírdhreach? Cliste, no?)

Gach focail ar domhain – bhí ar duine éigin teacht suas leo. Táim i gcónaí ag lorg bealaí nua rudaí a rá as Gaeilge… Bíonn daoine ag gearrán faoi “béarlachas” agus rl. Céard fiú an bullshit sin? I ndáiríre – úsáideann muid ar fad focail agus nathanna ó teangacha eile agus muid ag labhairt Béarla – gach teanga ar domhain, bíonn tionchar ar teangacha eile orthu. Cén dochar? Is meán cumarsáid í an Ghaeilge, agus teanga ar bith, agus caithfidh tú í a úsáid i do bhealach féin. Déan do rud féin leí. Aimsíonn tú do ghuth féin nuair atá go leor den teanga foghlamtha agat, agus SIN líofacht, nuair’s féidir do pearsantacht a chur trasna! Má theastaíonn uait nathanna cainte a úsáid, agus muna bhfuil a leithéid ann sa Ghaeilge, fuck it! Úsáid é! Má caitheann daoine “like” nó “just” isteach ina gcuid Gaeilge ó am go chéile, cén dochar? Agus muid ag labhairt i mBéarla, ní ró-mhinic a bhímid buartha faoi cúrsaí gramadaí – agus níl éinne chun léimt ort má deirinn tú rud éigin nach bhfuil i gceart – tá’s againn nach scríobhaimis riamh mar sin é!
Pé scéal é… tá an obair ag dul go breá… Sin atáim a’ rá agus táim stickin’ to it!

Ach, go hionraic, is aoibhinn liom an stuif atá á dhéanamh agam faoi láthair – go háirithe an láithreoireacht raidió agus an scríbhneoireacht. Tá an t-ádh dearg orm bheith ag obair leis an legendary Dusty Rhodes chomh maith!

Táim ag moilliú síos go mór, áfach… ag cailliúint luas go ró-thapaigh agus ag coladh isteach go déanach sna maidine… leath den am, is mar gheall ar an obair san oíche a tharlaíonn sé… leath eile, mar gheall ar an easpa fuinneamh atá orm, agus an easpa muinín atá agam asam féin faoi láthair… Frustrated liom féin as bheith chomh distracted, agus unfocused is atáim. B’fhearr liom smacht a choinneal orm féin – ach ní bhímse faoi smacht agam riamh agus is mór an pian sa tóin é… (go háirithe agus mé i mo TOTAL control freak go nádúrtha..hehe..)

Táim tuirseach – can’t shake it off! Ach tiocfaidh an fuinnimh ar ais chugaim… seo an gnáth-rud domsa… An iomarca caffeine b’fhéidir!
Tá a lán ar m’intinn… táim buartha faoin crap atá ar siúl sa bhaile… Ach tá rud eile nach féidir liom stopadh ag smaoineamh faoi go háirithe – and it’s under my skin and it’s really getting irritating. Ní féidir liom ach… cur suas leis, is dóigh…

No – time to cop on. Seachas bheith ag suí agus ag déanamh mion-anailís ar gach rud, nó ag ligint nach gcuireann sé isteach orm, bheadh mé níos fearr as má thógaim aicsean éigin!
Ach céard?

Níl aon rud mícheart – níor tharla aon tubaiste – ach táim just… strussed! ‘s níl fhios agam céard ‘tá uaim. Ar a laghad, níl mórán am agam a thuilleadh le bheith ag smaoineamh faoi! :)

Big Question!

2009-02-21T06:04:00.006Z

It’s 6am. And I just wrote a big long essay-length post a few hours ago – I know!! - but must post this! Will keep it brief.

I was sitting here, unable to sleep, doing one of those shitty internet quizzes, and I came to the simplest question in the world - but it really unsettled and surprised me.

Dog or Cat?

It seemed like nothing, and I scrolled down lazily to click dog… Then I thought, why was I clicking dog?

Because they’re more loyal, nicer pets. They care.
I froze.
But they need so much more attention. And I can’t always be there. And it’d be lonely, and restless. And eat everything in the house. I don’t think I could give it the time it needs. I can’t promise I’ll be there enough. I might not be able/happy to make time for it. I might get bored of it - or take it for granted - but the poor thing would be totally reliant on me and miserable. That would be horrible!

Click cat!

But all a cat wants is affection when it suits it, and food, and for its every need to be catered for, and it’ll give nothing back.
But… at least it’s completely indifferent to neglect; Independent enough to just… up and leave.

Woah....

Judge this.

2009-02-21T01:14:00.009Z

No weekend plans so far. Loads of work to get done, but things are going very well! Baffled by the amount I’ve done this week. Really tired. But it’s cool. Stuff’s coming together.

Sex and the City was just on. Y’know, it’s odd – I watch it all the time, yet I really don’t like anything about it, and roll my eyes at people who say it's their fave show. Though, it's one of mine!! Silly, I know... It’s had a funny effect… and a lot of it’s crap… and what I hate is that it’s the kind of crap people buy into… It's almost like a religion for some, and otherwise-smart girls take it too seriously. Or, maybe they don't - I'm referring to people I only half-know, so, how should I know? Though, I s’pose it’s still.. entertaining… And I like the episode structure…

There was a particularly good line – are we too quick to judge judging? Talking about how being judgemental is considered a bad thing. For the most part, yes, open-mindedness all the way!! But, on the other hand… Some people are just ridiculous. Sometimes judgement is good. Reminds me of the whole PCness rampage nuisance issue… Anyway… whatever.

So there’s the update. But tonight I have the night off – and I am absolutely NOT going out, so hello! Back to my beautiful, sorely-missed blog! If I could hug you, I would. (oh, feck it, internet actions don’t have to make sense…) *hugs!!*

Tonight’s topic – my well-concealed nerdiness.

On Valentine’s day (a day which I never aknowledge but, for some reason, tends to always be memorable despite my best efforts) I spent the morning sorting through family crap (headache, headache, headache and a long story for another day and a less public forum…) And – though I wasn’t in the mood – I decided I’d go up the road where the Skycon (Skynet convention thingie) dudes were having a few brews that night. It was the last night, I’d missed all the lectures, talks, and funzies, and most of the con-goers were a little droopy-lookin after so many nights in a row on the lash… But I had a really freaking good time!

I met my hero - and I still can’t believe it. Even though I didn’t get an autograph, OR a personalised cartoon (damn you bastards who did!!), OR much time with him (damn Americans and their lack of drinking stamina – he was “tired” and had an “early flight” – he was gone within an hour of me arriving!! I know it was late, but, Boo! By the way, I was indeed as dumbstruck and retarded-acting as I knew I would be. Which sucks. ‘Cos he was DAMN cute! I think that made it even MORE nerve-wracking… When nervous around a person, I look and talk to everyone BUT them… so… not exactly the best tactic…!) – it was still cool! He was tired, but still interesting to chat to (the odd time I braved a brief word..!) Rgh. Anyway…*

But that wasn’t even the highlight of the night. Bizarre as this may sound (actually, it doesn’t really…) the highlight was chatting to my fun, semi-nerdy buddies from school who I never get to see anymore. I had no idea how much I missed that crap! Also, that tall cool English guy Jeff with his little robots – awesome and very, very interesting guy. But, my school buddies, two of whom read this so not gonna say anything (lol – freaked out? You should be :P) except that it was awesome spending time with’m… talking shite… Having a few drinks… I encountered only one un-cool person, but I don’t think they meant to come across as narrow-eyed-ly judgy and unfriendly…

Shite-talk was all it was… but the difference is, it’s fascinating shite-talk! Not yer run-of-the-mill stuff!

Like Hugh and his plans for building a working Delorean. L…M…A…O… I mean, seriously! I was enthralled! Fire-tyre-tracks, dry-ice to come out of the doors… he even thought about how best to achieve the sound effects! The only thing it WON’T do is…well… travel through time… But, as we all know, that was only ever a minor feature of the Delorean……*cough*

You don’t GET that quality of shite-talk or mad idea-throwing with non-nerds. And I’m sick of hiding my nerdish ways. We’re just a more interesting people!

There was a time where I had memorised the names of almost every single dinosaur there ever was… the era they lived in… and could draw’m fairly accurately from memory… It’s just the major ones that I can still remember, though…

I am a Pokémon master. Painstakingly trained my boys to level 100! And they. Are. Unstoppable. Come and have a go if ya think yer ‘ard enuff! (And if you can manage to find your Gameboy colour in the attic)

I used to make up my own Pokémon. Have several full copybooks of detailed designs and stats info… I submitted one to a Nintendo Mag comp. I didn’t win, some rubbish Loch Ness Monster-rip-off did and – when Gold and Silver were released, with a character that was TOO similar to my concept – I was CONVINCED they’d sent it off to Tajiri behind my back along with the other great ideas that never made it into the mag… Bastards!

((Quickly done on paint: I know they don't LOOK alike, but I SWEAR I had the idea for a water-electric Pokémon before ANYONE else. And look at the hideous shitty version they DID come up with - wouldn't my little beauty have made a much better edition to Gold and Silver?))

What else...
I was a regular in a chatroom; respected and feared by n00bs. And any chatroomers here will know how much time you gotta put in to be a known "reg". I knew all the lingo, and knew the URL by heart! I can still recite it! It's about 80characters long.

I’ve played FF7 through to the end around 10 times. But, please, who hasn’t?

Same goes with Ocarina of Time.

And the original MGS.

I LOVED Advent Children. My God. Nostalgia overload.

I was always Tails.

I LOVED the Sonic cartoons. Especially the more grown-up with the angrier theme-tune! “Soniiic… he can really move! Soniiic… he’s got an AAH-ti-tuuuude…. Soniic…. He’s the fastest thing AH-LIIIIIVE!!”

I cannot get up early. Never ever could… EXCEPT… at 7am for Power Rangers before school. Every day. (Back when it was at it's peak, that is. Lost interest when it became Super-turbo-hyper-mega-cool-awesome-wanker-asteroid-power-ninja-turtle Rangers, or whatever)

I taught myself HTML (hey, I know, it’s piss-easy as languages go, but bear in mind that, back then, there was no myspace and html was considered VERY cool)

I programmed a (shitty) clock once on a computer-summer-camp-course-thingie. Niall, what the hell was the course called?

I liked Monty Python before any of my friends. I watched it with my dad. I’d also watch Star Trek with him. He introduced me to Star Wars. My brother took a while to warm to it: but I was immediately mesmerised. He started reading the Hobbit to me when I was about 6 or 7. Maybe younger… And then progressed to the Lord of the Rings. He was so good – reading every night for hours! Such diligence too!

I remember once I fell asleep, and asked, “Could you go back to that bit with ((whatever it was))..? Sorry, but that’s the last thing I remember.”
Dad: “…That was 3 chapters ago.”

But he read it again! We used to argue too. And there’s one argument we’ve never finished – to this day – about the possibility of time-travel (NOT getting into it today…) I miss those arguments.

I guess he could be blamed for my nerdiness. Along with my green eyes. You rock dad!! (Though, could’ve done without the rubbish eyesight… they’re pretty, but don’t work good!)

Anyway; judging judgement. I judge people who judge people. I am judged, every day, for having bottle-blonde hair, and acting like a ditz, and various other reasons. I'm sick of the surprise on peoples' faces when it dawns on them that, yes, there IS something going on in my pretty little head. But I like it too. It gives me a smug sort of satisfaction. When a person makes an assumption about me, or are condescending towards me, I smile to myself and think about how much smarter than them I clearly am, and how much of a dense moron they must be.

Ha. Lousy!

*in-post promos of other posts by me are bad enough, but two of the same one? Sorry. I'm not a complete whore - I just like the wikipedia-clicky-word feeling it gives to posts (and it saves me re-explaining stuff I'm referring to)

All's quiet!

2009-02-17T20:51:00.005Z

I have a few moments to myself. About 15 minutes. 20 if I push it. It's pretty... weird.

I've decided to give up soft drinks. Here's why...

scary right? By the time I'd read the whole way through, the thought of finishing my bottle of coke made me feel ill.

Still gonna partake in the occasional can of coke though. They're only little! And I'm gonna need the caffeine if I keep this up.

Something's gotta give. But what?
The barwork... I love it.. but it leaves me exhausted.
Evening work.. It would be very, very stupid to give that up. Not only was it my only source of income for a long time, but I can carry on working away on my laptop while I do it. It's also quite easy and the least stressful of all.
The door job thingie, and organising student night SUCH a cushy job, and the only reason I get to go to Oiche na Mac Leinn - if I quit it, that's be that. But it does mean I'm in this diabhal building for over 12 hours on a tuesday!

Well... not this tuesday.

I was very, very late for my work placement today. I am so.. so tired. I fainted! (I think!) I feel terrible - guilty and tired and ... guilty! This is why something has GOT to give. Fine, yes, I know I don't get paid for it, but I really, really wanted to make a good impression and wow them - and at first that's exactly what I did - but like, 2 weeks in and I'm just... well, let's just put it this way - the girl I work with, who's wonderful and a good friend of mine, seemed really, really pissed off with me. I don't blame her. I couldn't get away with this sparcity of punctuality anywhere else...

But I didn't say a word to her. Was petrified to... More importantly, she's heard enOUGH excuses from me already - and I'm sick of making them! I just need to get my act together. No more excuses.

Or I suppose I could ask for the work to be shared out a bit more evenly - but I don't wanna be stuck doing the crappy jobs... I'm lucky I'm not organising papers, or making coffee - I have REAL work to do!

My dad said to me today: Long distance runners pace themselves, Aoife. You're not superwoman.

Typically, the best way to get me to do something is to tell me I can't.
"You can't jump that!"
"You'll never get an A1 in English..."
"You can't cram shorthand - it's a skill you have to learn gradually."
"You can't down that in one!"
"You won't be able to lift that"

So, yeah - fuck that!
Y'know what? I was given a helluva lot to do - because they knew (or, hoped!) I was up to it. And I bleddy-well AM up to it! I am gonna find a way to get it together and blow them away.

I AM freakin superwoman! Just you wait and see..

I miss my blog.

2009-02-10T17:50:00.004Z

I was just getting good at it, blogging regularly and all that -- I was getting REALLY good at it! But I'm so busy. I don't have any time. I love it - I'm on work experience and it's amazing fun, challenging! fascinating! engaging! so, so, so rewarding.

But exhausting. And I still have to work part time almost every evening cos I don't get a penny from the work placement, as it's part of my college course.... sigh. I wish this was my only job. I could give so much more to it if I wasn't so completely drained from the night before.. not that I'm not doing it well as it is - I am!! But I know I could be so much better - faster - but not with this cloud of tired fuzziness hanging over me... I really, REALLY hope I don't look as tired as I feel...

Wonder how long I can keep this up? Will I gradually just start coming in later and later in the mornings? Or will I start sleeping downstairs and never leave the place? Ha...wouldn't put it past me!

Big, very horrible bomb dropped on me last night (bad, bad news) and was so shook up that I couldn't sleep till 6... which was annoying cos I had to get up at 8... to run into college and apologise for someone else not doing their job and leaving it up to me at the last minute... no, AFTER the last minute.. the deadline had PAST when i was told; it's not done, you do it!

so... 2 hours sleep... and I was tired enough as it was... and... yeah.

That's actually all I have time to write. *shrug*

seeya.

Oh dear.

2009-01-30T02:05:00.006Z

... that's it.

'Suppose I ought to write more but.. nope.. nothing. All I can bring myself to say right now is; "Oh dear."
It's not that I can't think of anything to write, I just can't think of anything that I feel like writing.

*thinks*

Ooooh kaaay...

Life is like a box of chocolates, right? Well, somewhere in that box is a scrumptious, crunchy, pretty little chocolate... but they're not nuts, or honeycomb pieces for that matter.. In actual fact they're tiny, jagged, mean little shards of glass that tear all the way down.

I always preferred savoury snacks.

Re: Ouch >.<

2009-01-26T04:14:00.010Z

Isn't it incredible? It's migraine art! I, personally, don't get a visual aura - but stuff like this makes me wish I did! (Instead I just act out of character, stressed, and spaced-out during the pre-attack aura stage..... or sometimes I can get hyper-happy or startlingly low! Which is weird, and I don't know what's going on till the pain hits and I'm like - Oh! Right!)

A few months back I read in Scientific American (my dad subscribes - he's awesome) that - apparently - the migraine "happens" in the front of the brain in people who get visual disturbances, and in people who don't see anything funny it's in the back.
(Sorry I haven't a proper quote or anything - I've lost the issue somewhere in my room!)

Mad jagged designs, blind spots... it all sounds much more interesting than mood swings and concentration lapses! But, yeah, i know; greener grass and all that jazz...

Here's another from this thread (which is worth checking out..):

I totally fucking know how that^^ feels! That, right there, is similar to stuff I've doodled when I've had a headache (and a pen handy..eg: in work/college) - might post some here at some point! But I have a rotten habit of throwing away everything I draw these days...
(something to do with my bitterness at having abandoned the art college dream?)

Have a look at this NY Times slideshow for more examples!

"... there is speculation that some of the mystical paintings from medieval times, including the work of Hildegard von Bingen (Saint Hildegard), were actually the "visions" that resulted, at least in part, from a migraine attack. Van Gogh, Seurat, and many other artists have also been cited as possible "migraine artists." "

^That article from Psychology Today is an interesting read if you've got 5 minutes.. it's true that it's very difficult to describe pain in words sometimes - and I don't know how many times I've felt like slapping a doctor who's dismissed my headache as a sinus congestion-related pain when I'm trying to explain that "it's not just there, it's aaall here and kind of, in that way and pushing down here and sometimes here and... but further in.. and that way and through there!"

ha... clear?
Crystal!

Ouch >.<

2009-01-25T23:44:00.007Z

I hate migraines! Today has been a complete write-off. It’s not fair. I get NO say in it. It’ll just come on me and, no matter how hard I fight it, it’s a matter of dropping everything and waiting ‘till I can fall asleep – which can take hours...

If the headache could talk, he’d chuckle and say, “Plans? Tough shit. You’re not doing eh-heh-heeehnything* today!”

I like being in control - so I absolutely HATE the helplessness I feel when one’s coming on. I’ll try ignore it, try get on with my day, but I know the longer I leave it the worse it’ll get..which is infuriating. Still, I suppose the sensation of it creeping up on me is kind of a luxury – at least I have some sort of warning – and can get another hour or two of productivity out of the day. But sometimes, like today for instance, I’ll just wake up with a full-blown horrible one; no build-up, no warning, and no hope for getting anything done that day! Cancel everything, stick my head in the freezer, and, most importantly.. turn OFF those DAMN LIGHTS..

Finally got over it, though, with some effort..
Couldn’t bear to get dressed and go to the shop for Neurofen Plus (which I shouldn’t take anyway, but they’re the only things that work, really) so I scraped around my floor and finally found an almost empty bottle of that Advil PM stuff I got in the states this summer. The only painkillers in the house, and not very effective, but they had sleep aid! Sleep is the only sure-fire cure for MY migraines. Well, it works about 85% of the time. Anyway. Yay.

Waited what seemed like HOURS for them to kick in, and they didn’t quite stop the ache, but totally helped me drift off! After choking down a few slices of pizza, dozed fitfully on an armchair by the window (Bed too hot! Too hot! Everywhere too hot. Air!!) ... and thank God but after a few hours I woke up feeling much, much, muuuch better.

It’s a fantastic feeling – right after a migraine lifts. Nothing beats it! It’s strange – I just feel NORMAL – but, after the ache and heat and pressure of the migraine; Normal Feels Incredible!!! It’s the best feeling in the world! GOD I feel so good! Like new! Like brand spanking new and FULL of energy and happy to be alive and dying to go DO something! It's AWESOME!

Anyone know what I mean?

*don’t ask why it talks like Dr. Cox… =P

2am?! (also - Lucky day!)

2009-01-24T03:06:00.004Z

I had an early night. The first in a long, long time. It wasn't planned - come 10 o'clock I was just ready to pass out - and I fell asleep without a problem...
AND WOKE UP AT 2AM!

How freakin' frustrating is that! And try as I may, I cannot seem to get back to sleep. No whiskey in the house for a hot whiskey. No milk to make hot chocolate or even just hot milk - I'm drinking water. And, if anything, it's waking me up MORE.

Watching stupid re-runs of Sex and the City on Paramount seems to be the only answer.

Our broadband's broken in the house - and by broken I mean our landlords fucked up AGAIN. But I'm using a (very weak) connection from a neighbouring house. "information may be visible by other.....blah blah blah" - I don't care. It's worth it. I hate not having a connection in the house. What else can keep you company/entertained in the wee hours better than the good ol' Idirlín...

Something very cool happened today! Y'know the little miracles I talked about in my Moon River post? Yeah, one of them! I got a taxi Wednesday morning to the bus station - and left a bag in the back! I spent all day ringing various Dublin taxi companies, asking them to send out the message, rang the Burlington hotel (where the taxi rank was) - all sorts of panicking. And had planed on ringing the Carriage Office at Dublin Castle - just needed to go get more phone credit (had used it all up).

And I got a taxi to town as I was running a little late.
And guess what?

"Did I have you in the cab the other mornin'?"

Yep!! And he had it in the boot of the car! He said he was gonna drop it into the Carriage Office that evening, but had kept it in hopes he'd bump into me again. Thing is - that means if I'd rang the Carriage Office when I got to town, it wouldn't have been there yet and I'd have probably given up! If I hadn't been late, I wouldn't have got a taxi, and he certainly wouldn't have been sitting at the top of the rank at any other point today!

See? Odd little things that remind me life's to be laughed at, and with, and it's your friend, really..end of the day...

I might be on a TV show on TG4! Update on that once I know more..

Haha this is one of my more pointless, self-indulgent posts, I know... I just felt like a bit of a grumble! And I'd love to ramble on for another little bit, but I'll leave it at that for now.
Night night blog.. I'm gonna TRY go back to sleep.

Deep in the Dip

2009-01-21T03:50:00.010Z

Well. Here we go again. The lower point of the wave. All this bouncing and crashing’s making me a little ill. But I’ll keep going from this, and zip back to the top, and stall briefly, and it all starts again. And that’s how it’s going to feel. And that’s ok.

The only person I can control is myself. And that’s exactly what I’ll do. If I keep my head, I’ll beat this. I’m a tough cookie! Not at the moment, sure, but in general.

I’m angry. At myself and at other people. Other people never make me as angry as I make myself. And maybe that’s my problem, not theirs. And maybe I really can do this.

“Speak your truth quietly and clearly”
Desiderata – I’ve always tried to live like that; time to try a little harder. Especially with that line.

It’s ok to open up, to let the world see me. I have nothing to hide! I have nothing to be ashamed of! I have nothing to lose. And I certainly would hate to miss out on a once in a lifetime opportunity. Again!

Come on, Aoife.

Genius!!

2009-01-20T02:41:00.006Z

Y'know how a couple of posts ago, when I did my little new year quiz, I couldn't think of an answer to the last question? Instead of goign back and answering properly, I've decided to post a list of some of my all-time favourite quotes. I love these because they're inspiring, or delightfully, hilariously true.. all are just plain genius.

"A long-term relationship is, at its core, two people struggling to put up with each other’s bullshit—day in, day out, year after year—in exchange for things intangible (love) and things tangible (sex)." - Dan Savage

"If I heard a speaker use (downplay) I would upget and outwalk." - Peter De Vries

"A mistake which is commonly made about neurotics is to suppose that they are interesting. It is not interesting to be always unhappy, engrossed with oneself, malignant and ungrateful, and never quite in touch with reality." - Cyril Connolly, The Unquiet Grave

"Be Yourself, especially do not feign affection, neither be cynical about love for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass." - Desiderata, Max Ehrman

"He who has a why for life can bear with almost any how" - Nietzsche

"Its not that the Irish are cynical. Its rather that they have a wonderful lack of respect for everything and everybody." - Brendan Behan

"It's not like buying a car you know." "I know - it's gotta be that can't eat, can't sleep, reach for the stars, over the fence world series kind of love!" - It Takes Two (crappy movie - great quote nonetheless)

"If you can find someone who loves the you YOU love, well, that's just fabulous!" - Sex and the City

"Good things don't come to those who wait, but to those who dare." - An old friend who I miss quite a bit.

"We're ridiculous"

2009-01-18T07:03:00.009Z

Yes we are.

Oooh, it's gonna hurt alright. No matter what we decide, whatever happens, it's going to hurt. I have some idea how much, too... so it's more than a little terrifying. But I've been thinking about it and I've decided - fuck it - it doesn't matter if it lasts a week, or a few weeks, or a few hundred weeks. Or even just a few more hours!
Even just one more hour like that would be...

Fuck!

How did this happen? How has everything changed?

I want.......... what do I want? Nnnnnngh I don't KNOW!!

No, I think I DO know what I want. "Think" is the wrongest of wrong words - I KNOW what I want!
I want whatever I can get.
No more. That's ok. More than ok! And even though I'm scared, I'm not feeling weird about it at all. It's petrifying - but it comes so easily too. Does that make sense? Anyway, no amount of nerves or uncertainty or time-restrictions can stop me enjoying it - all of it - every second until...
...

I go from wanting to throw up, to wanting to sing, to wanting to scream, to wanting to dance, to wanting to drink, to laughing at all the aforementioned madnesses.

To sum up: This is the BEST mistake I'll ever make.
:)