Showing posts with label alcohol. Show all posts
Showing posts with label alcohol. Show all posts

Thursday, August 06, 2009

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

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




Saturday, July 25, 2009

More Fun-in-Sun Summer Tales

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.



Saturday, April 11, 2009

Teehee..

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

Sherry before bed, perhaps? ^_~



Saturday, March 28, 2009

I ought....



... quit drinking.



Just to see.



G'night.



Saturday, March 21, 2009

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

"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.


Friday, January 02, 2009

So far so Good

Well, that's one down.... and, so far, I am very much liking 2009.

Over-did it on New Year's Eve(NYE)... Absynthe shot in Charlie's was a baaaad idea on top of everything else.. but hey! The third time I woke up today I felt great! (we won't speak of the first two times, if you don't mind! Not a pretty sight..)

It was better than last year at the very least, where I stormed out of the nightclub in a huff, wasn't let back in, and got to sit outside and sulk for the rest of the night - nice!

And this year, due to bad timing on my stomach's part, we went for food across the road from the pub, and thought we'd have it eaten and be back in time for the countdown... but no such luck! I clinked cans of coke with one of my best friends over a delicious pizza - not the original plan, but can you imagine a better way to start off 2009?

New Year's night is almost always a let-down, either because everyone's broke, or forgot to finalise plans because they were so wrapped UP in Christmas, or just through bad luck. Originally we were all gonna go to Dingle, then Tipp, and I'm kind of glad that neither of those plans worked out - better to stay close to home and not waste TOO much money on a much over-hyped holiday. Plans that fall-through: the essense of the spirit of New Year's!

I have to admit, New Year's is probably my favourite holiday. It's usually a disappointment, a mess and a disaster, and that next morning is NEVER too pleasant... but isn't it the perfect "f*** you" to 2008?

Not that I didn't have a great year - all things considered, it was ok! But isn't it nice to shake it off and bid it a crass, alcohol-soaked farewell? Greeting the year '09 with bleary eyes that peer out from a tangled heap of drool/make-up-soaked bedsheets?

Romantic, eh? Poignant, maybe? Haha.. well, I think it's perfect. The perfect, disgusting, truly and uniquely human way to celebrate a new start. Every year starts like every NYE; with all those expectations! (Even when Dingle and ALL our plans fell through, my friends were still hopeful -- ADAMANT they'd find someone to kiss at midnight!)

We can reminisce on NY's day, or ANY day of the year. But on NYE we sing of letting go; "Should auld acquaintance be forgot" It's a celebration of shattered expectations, of excess, recklessness, disregard for consequences, and, most of all, of the ability to always start again.

It's a perfect conclusion to '08, and a helluvan introductory paragraph for '09.

And (compared to how I felt the first and second times I woke up this morning) things can only get better!

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

The Littlest Security Guard

When reading this, bear in mind I'm 5'7", blonde and have no experience whatsoever doing security. I guess I get asked to do these sorta things because I'm the sort of impulsive person who goes, sure to hell with it - why not!


So, late last Friday, I was on my way home from Dublin to Limerick (4hours on bus) to spend a nice quiet weekend with my family.

My friend Aisling calls me out of the blue – quick! 16 people who were supposed to do security ran off - taking their Access-All-Areas wristband with them. We’re in a lot of trouble and REALLY short-staffed – you in?

Why not! I tell my parents when I come in the door... "Sorry, I can’t stay long… Know how I couldn’t afford to go to Oxegen? Well… I’m going for free!"

10am the next morning I’m back in Kildare at the Oxegen music festival and ready to start work.

I’ve never experienced anything like it.

Where was I stationed? Only the Dance Arena – the epicentre of all the drugs, violence, and general dodginess at the festival! I’m sick to death of dance music after it (been hearing the “nnsk nnsk nnsk” in my head ever since!!)

You may think “wow cool! Being paid to go to a festival!!!” And that’s what I thought. But, no, not so cool. Throwing water at people, throwing people out, beind sicked on, carrying drunk girls to Med-centre, breaking up fights, wading through muck and mud, checking the portaloos for drug-dealers, guarding barriers, stomping tablets into the floor, trying to talk sense to people who's eyes are popping out of their heads...

The only act I got to see was the very last one of the weekend, just before I ran for my bus (had work at 9 the following morning!) And that act was… Rage against the Machine!!! Absolutely AMAZING gig, I saw the last hour of it (so really didn’t miss much) including their dazzlingly good encore…

Naturally they closed with Killing in the Name Of, and, even though I ran for the bus immediately after, I was an hournahalf late for work this morning. So… exhausted…

But, who cares!!! They were the only band I REALLY wanted to see and were mind-blowingly good and it was free… apart from the soul-destroying labour…!

Saw some crazy stuff over the course of the weekend. Being sober, and spending the whole time watching the (wasted drunk) crowd like a hawk, means you see some really REALLY odd goings-on! Here are some of the weirdest moments:

Told a fello to put out his cigarette (no smoking/cans/bottles allowed in Dance Arena building) and… he took it out of his mouth, turned it backwards, and put it back into his mouth. Quenching it with his tongue. I gaped at him and he smirked at me (cig still in mouth!) and, speechless, I walked on!

Roughly snatched a can out of a guy’s hand and yelled at him… he turned out to be one of the DJs – oops.

Saw 3 girls stooped on ground in front of a Portaloo, went to investigate. As I got to them, they were just standing up and one girl was showing the others a handful of E tablets (about 15 maybe) – as I couldn’t prove they were theirs (they insisted they’d just picked them up) I just took them away and said nothing to them, then threw them in a puddle of filthy portaloo-run-off water and stomped them into dust, then kicked mud over them and went back inside. 5 minutes later, another security guard tells me he saw a guy (in aviator glasses and a Hunter S-style hat) on his hands and knees picking around in the puddle and eating them. Urgh.

Asleep in fellow-security-guard’s Chicky-chento in the security carpark, and in the middle of the night the lads (all big securty-type fellas) picked the car – and us – up and spun us around, shook us, bounced us, and left us down a few meters from where we started (pointing a different direction) - I was so tired that I slept right through it! I didn’t even hear my Aisling (the other guard in car with me) screaming “FUCK OFF LADS!!!! COP THE FUCK ON!!” as we were held in the air (strong sleeper I guess!!)

Was asked HUNDREDS of times by people whether I would sell them the stuff I’d confiscated. Unbelievable! (Besides, anything I found was MINE!)

Fella from the Fratellies got in fight with one of the other guards – pulled the whole “don’t you know who I am?!” routine when told he couldn’t exit through an entrance-only door.

It was nice that I got to see Rage, (and buy a tshirt!) but I don’t know if I’d go again. It was good craic in the security carpark (drinkin all the confiscated cans and bottles and stuff – very cool!) but the hours were too much, 15hours Saturday – no break (and only got to sit down when on toilet – that was pretty much it.) and 11 hours on Sunday with a 10 minute break… Ate out “dinner” (our only meal in whole day) standing at our posts.

Feet still killing me.

Also saw 2 dudes dressed up as the 11850 guys.

And that’s not even the half of it…!

Wednesday, April 02, 2008

A Star is Born!

A short (true) story about one girl (me) and her wild, stab-in-the-dark attempt at starting a music career.

So, a few months ago at Karaoke night in the Village, I was getting off the stage after doing Blondie’s “Call Me” when a woman approached me. “That was great! Are you a singer?” Being drunk (as is the norm at karaoke-related events) I replied, “I am yeah!!”

Then I realised she was serious. “Well, no, I’m not. I just love Karaoke!” “Well, you SHOULD be,” she said, “I’m a producer and I think you’re very talented!” Then she gave me her email address and told me to let her know if I ever chanced writing a song.

I couldn’t believe it! Now, prior to this I’d never really been the type to dream of being a singer. Well, obviously I wouldn’t have minded the money, but it wasn’t something I ever thought about. I know loads of people dream of it – but I was Karaoke queen and that’s all I wanted to be! I loved singing, but it’s not a “real” choice, is it? Not for me. But that comment, and the few emails we exchanged afterwards, lit a fire.

I put my name down for a singer-songwriter/comedian open-mic night on March 18th in the Ha’penny Bridge Inn, Temple Bar; an event called “the Battle of the Axe.” Seeing as it was MILES in the future I thought; how hard can it be to throw two songs together? I’ve always loved writing, I love singing, and any idiot can rhyme. Also, I used to play piano so think I have a fairly “ok” ear for music.

Aaaand the weeks went by and I kept putting off practicing. I was busy, and forgot about it, and played every once in a while and had two songs in mind – one finished, one that wouldn’t work out no matter how I tried. But I was sure it’d be fine!

I decided I’d pick up the guitar again. I’d only ever played for like a year, and had never been very good, but hey, I have WEEKS before the show, right? But when the 18th came I didn’t feel very ready at all! And, luckily, I ended up going to Connemara that week on a college-funded trip. So I postponed. The new date? April Fool’s Day. (How appropriate...)

So, the big night arrives. My brother came up from Cork to see me. A bunch of friends from my drama group came too. So did Fiona, one of my best friends, and Eanna, my boyfriend at the time. I had quite a nice fan-base even before I started – great!

Well... Alright. I’ll start by saying it was a lot of fun, and went well, but not quite in the way I’d planned!

On arrival I was told I’d be the first act of the second half – excellent! I had time to get some Dutch Courage into me! So I headed straight for the bar... and dropped my first drink immediately after pouring the redbull into the vodka. Shite! My hands were shaking with nerves. A friend bought me a replacement, which I made quick work of. I was dying for it to be over and playing the chords in my head – don’t forget the order they go in! Don’t forget the words!!

There were a bunch of stand-up comedians and some really amazing musicians in the first half. Oh no... BUT I assured myself I’d be fine – for the previous three days I’d done a lot of practice, grown a few blisters on my fingertips (from the guitar) and, besides, I had the chords all written down on a tiny piece of paper which I safety-pinned to my knee. What could possibly go wrong!?

The musician who ended the first half – who was very talented – helped me tune my guitar and gave me some words of encouragement. He even promised to buy me a drink afterwards, which cheered me up immediately!

So, they called my name. I got on stage, bringing a chair with me (because if I’d been standing up I wouldn’t have been able to read the notes on my knee!) The place was packed. And everyone was bloody looking at me!!! I introduced myself, and then froze. I was nervous, my hands were the only things that weren’t frozen – they were shaking!! – and, for what felt like forever, I sat there like a rabbit in headlights. Then I started laughing at myself. “Sorry, I’m a little nervous. I don’t often do this sort of thing, or, like, NEVER.” Dead silence – oh no!! Say something else!!

“Am... as you can see, I’m more of a sit-down comedian!” Silence. Ouch. “Sorry that was awful,” I muttered, “stick to the music Aoife... leave that to the real comics...” I got a laugh for that one. Hallelujah! Then I said “ok, sorry, just a sec – I’ve the chords written here in case I forget...” They noticed my little cheat-sheet and roared laughing. I thanked God that I could feel the vodka going to my head (Just in time!), I took a deep breath, and began.

I sounded really good! Until, around three bars in, I fucked up. Bigtime. I tried to pull it together but panicked, my hand slipped, and the guitar made a painful “waoarrrrrrrrrr” noise. I stopped, laughed nervously, went scarlet and said “Ok, sorry, I can’t do this... Thanks very much, I don’t know what I was thinking!” and I went to get off the stage... Suddenly, the whole audience started shouting at me!

“No! Come on, you can do it! We wanna hear the rest! Finish the song!” I was gobsmacked. I couldn’t stop laughing but said “Ok I’ll give it another go!”

So, this is the part in the movie where the hero takes a deep breath, and, encouraged by the audience, wows them with a perfectly-performed piece of music. Then she gets carried out of the pub on the shoulders of a cheering crowd, holding her trophy high above her head, and the credits roll up and it's all happy ever after...

That didn't happen!

I started again, with a newfound energy, but...no newfound talent! Within seconds I’d f**ked up again and said, "Wait, shit, that's not a chord!" and, thank God, they all laughed. I said, "You know what, i think you've heard enough of that song. I know the other one a little better so let's move on!!" so they cheered and I was just about to start playing, when I realised, “Oh shit, I haven’t been using a plec!” I honestly hadn’t realised.! A cooler person would have subtly found one and pretended it was all intentional to play the first song with her fingernails, but no, not me! I muttered some lame apologies, they fell around the place laughing, and eventually, when I found one, I started into the second song.

There were some faulty chords and I pulled quite a few "oops" faces but my voice sounded good and I managed to get half way before I forgot what came next. I stopped to look at my cheat-sheet and go "aaam," and they all started applauding and whistling and cheering – thinking I was finished! The vodka had taken a firm hold by now and I brazenly shouted into the mic “Hey! Wait wait wait! That’s not the end! There’s more! Let me just check here...” and off I went again! I played right to the end... well, ALMOST. And it was terrible but I was shaking – with laughter this time – and figured I should quit while I still had SOME dignity!

After a (very generous) round of applause I said, "Thanks very much! That didn't exactly go as I'd planned but I hope you enjoyed it! And I hope the next person up here has some actual talent!"

I left the stage in a fit of giggles, barely able to breathe from laughter and shame. With my head down I made my way over to my brother, who gave me a hug. And I decided I really, really, really needed a cigarette!

Later, after having countless people coming up to congratulate me “for trying and for being the funniest act all night!” they decided to announce the winner. The audience had to vote, by cheering, and when the MC announced that it was between me and two of the comedians I said (quite loudly, thanks to the numerous pints my fans had bought me) “What?! Are you kidding me?!”

They screamed and clapped and whistled and cheered for me, and I actually freaking WON! I couldn't believe it and I walked up on stage, my eyes streaming from laughing so hard. I took the mic and just kinda said something like, "Uhm, thanks but I can't say I agree with yer choice!! I promise I won’t be back!" Then some lads down the back started shouting "Encore! Encore!"

You MUST be joking! I accepted my certificate and “Lucky Duck” award (which is usually just a yellow toy duck but, that night, they couldn’t get one and got a plastic dinosaur instead. Go figure.)

There were actually some really, really talented musicians and HILARIOUS comedians performing that night – and if I’d have performed properly I probably wouldn’t have stood a CHANCE!

Loads of people, including the MC, the organisers, and the other musicians, told me they’d love me to come back and play again.

Yeah right!