Why 2009 was fucking awesome

Seeing as there is only one day left in this year, I figured it's about time I write my last post of 2009 and reflect back on what made it fucking awesome - because it was, truly, an incredible year. I'll probably forget some of the reasons why, but I'll try and jot down as many as I can think of anyway! There were some bad times too, and it'd be stupid of me to ignore them because one has to take the good with the bad in life, but I won't dwell on them either because there's no point to that!

My 21st
On February 5th 2009, I hit the big 2-1. It wasn't something I was particularly looking forward to, especially since I'd been accepted into a new group of friends in late November/December of '08 and I wasn't sure if anybody would actually be around to celebrate it with me. One of the women I worked with at the time told me to get something for my mother, because 21 is a big age for the mother of a child too. So, I got her a big bouquet and left it with a card on the kitchen table while I trekked through the snow into town to get my second tattoo - a star in between my shoulder blades. Noodles accompanied me and squeezed my hand through it, encouraging me by asking "What would Corey do?" over and over. That night, I went to dinner with my mother (who cried over her gift) AND father, and siblings, to Yamamori, then afterwards Mam and I had cocktails in my favourite gay bar. After that, I met up with some of the people who managed to make it into town that night, in one of my favourite bars. Star turned up with a rose for me and the emo turned up to surprise me. It was a long night, but a good one. My proper celebration was the following Saturday, in another of my favourite bars. I got some of the most unconventional presents I've ever received, including chocolate skulls from Stella and a Batman book, starring me, from Sticky. It was another great night, but the celebrations didn't end there. The following weekend, Noodles and I headed to London for my birthday present. I was a bit ill while we were there, but we managed to tear it up and shop till we dropped all the same. My birthday, and the subsequent celebrations, calmed any fears I'd had about having no friends, being hated and never falling for anybody again. It was a very warming experience.

My going away party
Seeing as I was leaving to spend a semester abroad in Munich, I had to party in Dublin one last time before I left. So, I gathered as many of my friends as I could on my second last night in the city, in one of my all-time favourite bars, and proceeded to get well and truly hammered. I should probably mention that this night didn't exactly go smoothly... The emo got very upset with me for hooking up with Dill in front of him (something he still finds painful to discuss), Noodles was pissed off when one of his best friends pulled me despite the fact he and his girlfriend were only "on a break" at the time (neither he nor the girlfriend speak to me anymore, but whatever) and I yelled at Mewes for turning up and then subsequently trying to pull Star on the dancefloor. It was a messy night, but a great one. It was exactly the way I wanted to leave, without tears or drama or stupidity. I wanted a drunken, silly, fun going away party, and that's exactly what I got. On the bus home, I listened to Radiohead and sobbed quietly into the emo's shoulder. Scooby and I said an emotional goodbye and then Noodles and I stood on the freezing cold street for the first of many before our proper one the following day. I felt very light-headed that night, and the following night at dinner with my family. The feeling of inevitability about the whole thing was weird, but in a good way.


Erasmus in Munich
On February 28th, I began my Erasmus and, as a result, one of the best times of my life. I can't even begin to explain how much my time in Munich meant to me, how much fun I had, the amazing people I met, how much I learned about myself and life and friendship and living alone.. Erasmus was easily one of the best experiences of my life. Words cannot adequately express how much fun it was. It was incredible, life-changing, amazing... It was an altogether positive experience that I wouldn't trade for anything. I would go back and do it all again right now if I could, and I regret absolutely none of it. It hurt to return home and settle back into life in Dublin, and if I'm honest, after being in Munich, I realised that I don't want to spend my life in Ireland. My place isn't here. There's a whole world out there waiting to be explored, and luckily my chosen career can be carried out pretty much anywhere, so there's nothing really holding me back. Being on Erasmus built up my self-confidence to the point where I was able to let go of all of the negativity and hurt I'd been holding onto and just focus on living, being happy and figuring out who I really am. I took everything I'd learned home with me and I haven't let go of it since then. It was truly incredible. Not only did I get to see Munich, but I got to visit Berlin, Vienna, Augsburg, Nuremberg and Prague, to name but a few. I got a taste of what it's like to live by myself and I made some amazing friends. Charley, probably my best friend over there (besides Saz, of course), influenced me hugely and I really don't think I could've done it without her. I got the drunkest I've ever been, pulled people I can't even remember, carried my best friend down the street and danced in Goth clubs and basements in equal measure. It was the most fantastic time of my life and it went by way too quickly. I think about it every day and I don't know if I'll ever have another experience to equal it.

The gigs
Seeing as I spent half the year in Munich, I didn't get to attend as many gigs as I usually would have. However, in June, I managed to get to Rock im Park with the emo and two of the lads I'd met on Erasmus (one Irish, the other American). It was an odd group, and everything that could possibly have went wrong that weekend did, but it was still really good fun. Slipknot were, of course, the highlight of the three days, and they were totally worth standing in the freezing cold rain for an hour beforehand to see. The emo and I somehow managed to overcome everything that went wrong and come out of it still being friends (and more than that too, obviously) and I bawled like a baby the whole way home on the train after I dropped him off at the airport. Rock im Park was a very significant festival for me, because not only was it the only one I'd been to besides Download, but it was a completely different atmosphere to the others I'd been at. And it was fucking awesome. Besides RIP, Noodles hooked me up with a Metallica ticket for a gig two days after I returned home from Munich. I wasn't really in the mood for it, since I was suffering from post-Erasmus withdrawal at the time, but it turned out to be an awesome welcome back. Marlay Park, as always, came alive and Metallica stormed through their set. Whiskey in the jar was particularly emotive for me, for obvious reasons, but mostly it was just great to be doing something enjoyable back home, and with Noodles. We also went to see Dylan Moran with Scooby. That was fantastic. I've been a fan of his for so long and it was awesome to see him live and in the flesh. The last gig of 2009 was, of course, Paramore and I was unashamedly excited to see them again. They were fantastic, Hayley looked beautiful and it was a great night out with Saz and Niamh. It did make me feel a bit old to be surrounded by 15-year-olds in their underwear, but it was great fun nonetheless. It reminded me of how much fun rock gigs are - not that I'd forgotten! - and also how great it is to be young and spontaneous and without a care in the world.


The people
2009 was the year I sorted my shit out and not only made amends with people I'd pissed off in the past, but also cut out those who really had no place in my life to begin with. I'm sick of having to justify why certain people don't have any right to be a part of my life, but if I have to, I will and I'm not going to hold back anymore. There was one person in particular, who spent the best part of this year trying to force me into being friends with him again after I'd told him in no uncertain terms that he'd gone too far, whose harassment eventually drove me to change my number. It was sad, because we had been best friends for several years, but his abuse of the friendship was just too much and I began to realise, after some sound advice, that I was giving but getting nothing back. If that sounds extreme, it's because I haven't gone into detail about what this person did and said to me, and his unwillingness to accept my decision. I realised, probably while in Munich, that I have given certain people too many chances in the past. I have no intention of doing that again. Nobody has to work to be my friend. I ask for very little, but I'm not a pushover and I refuse to be treated like one. It took me losing all but a handful of my friends, and subsequently being accepted into a brand new group of people, for me to realise that I had gained far more than I'd lost. Now that that rant is over, I can begin to shower praise on those wonderful people who made this year as special as it was. The friends I now hold close to my heart are the best I've ever had, and although I'm not going to name names (because they know who they are), I will say that they are the most accepting, positive, intelligent, fun and interesting people I've ever met in my life. My life would suck and this year would have been shit without them. I am eternally grateful to them for accepting me into their lives. I don't know where I'd be without them.


My never-boring love life
2009 was the year I sowed my wild oats, so to speak. I pulled more than I ever have in my life. Not everybody agreed with it, but luckily the people who mattered did. One of the best things I heard about myself this year came courtesy of a chick who barely even knew me at the time, a good friend of Noodles, who stated "So she has a polyamorous relationship? At least she's honest about it. Who gives a shit!?". Strangely enough, she was absolutely right. I don't know why people had such a problem with what I was doing, seeing as it's nobody else's business and I was absolutely honest about it. But, as the months rolled past, I had to make a decision and, as I've previously stated, I chose my lovely emo to be my boyfriend. Dill is still one of my closest friends, Star is considered an ex without the negative connotations associated therewith, and we're still very close. So all's well that ends well. Although it feels weird to have settled down and have a boyfriend again, it's also really great to be in an honest, mature, adult relationship for the first time in my life. This is not my first adult relationship, but it is my first mature relationship. And, without gushing too much, he is the sweetest guy in the whole world, one of my best friends, one of the funniest people I know, so much fun to be around, so smart, creative, understanding, caring, silly, crazy, sexy....everything I've ever wanted in another human being, to be perfectly honest. The relationship is not effortless, because by their nature relationships are not, but it's pretty damn close. And honestly, I can't believe I ever settled for anything less, but one lives and learns.

The tatts
I got really, really into tattoos this year. I got three more in 2009, taking my total to four (and counting!), all of which had semi-significant meaning. The second was on my 21st birthday, a star between my shoulderblades as I've previously stated. That one, I chose on the spur of the moment. I hate star tatts, I think they'rea bit cliched, but I wanted something 21st-esque and that's what I got. The third was a heart being squeezed by a whip on my right shoulder - a pro-gay symbol which means love of women and love of fetish - that I got in Munich. It was difficult to ask for in German, but it was worth it. It's probably my favorite tattoo, not to mention the most meaningful. I love it. And the fourth was a second black heart on my left wrist, which I got on Halloween (the same day the emo asked me out), that was really just because I loved the symbol and wanted it on my wrist. It's a negative, dark symbol, but it means a lot. I love all four of my tatts and I have no plans to stop soon. They were a huge part of the year because they symbolised significant moments and they cost a hell of a lot of money!

The lows
I'm very glad to say that there were very few lows in 2009. I can't really think of any major ones, thank fuck, but I suppose there must have been a few. The most negative shit this year came courtesy of other people talking about me. However, I know who I am and what I've done. I know I'm not a saint, but I've never claimed to be. People still talking about me is a bad reflection on them, not me. Luckily, that doesn't really bother anymore. While I was in Munich, Star was approached several times by somebody (a mistake I made a long time ago). That pissed me off a lot, but I later found out that she handled herself quite well by informing him that we'd slept together many, many times and he didn't have a chance in hell with her. I don't know why this shit was still happening a year after the break-up, but whatever. Once again, bad reflection on him, not me. Mewes and I had a dreadful fight via email while I was away, too. He was very harsh and said some unforgiveable, ridiculous, completely false and very unfair shit that was, I was later told, said under the influence of drugs - surprise, surprise - which, in my mind, doesn't excuse it in the slightest. I'd love to publish those emails on here, but it doesn't bother me anymore so meh. He wasn't much of a friend and I don't miss his bullshit so oh well! The only other person I fought with was my mother. I walked out on her for a week and, when I returned, she decided to pretend the whole thing had never happened. I suppose that's the best I can expect from her. She's not a bad person or a bad mother, and I love her. I just don't necessarily like her all the time. Having said that, we ended 2008 on good terms and 2009 will end in much the same way, which I'm very pleased about. Overall, there weren't many lows this year. 2009 was a year of highs, for which I'm extremely grateful. Now time for some best ofs!!

Album of the year - Brand New Eyes - Paramore.
Gig of the year - Slipknot at Rock im Park.
Film of the year - I don't really have one... I didn't get to see many, but Harry Potter, Bruno and Adventureland were all great.
Book of the year - I don't know if it came out this year, but Bad Day in Blackrock by Kevin Power was fantastic.
Song of the year - Ignorance - Paramore. Not only was it the catchiest of this year, it quickly became my theme tune!
New obsession of the year - Mega64. My life would suck without these guys, it really would.
Comic/Graphic Novel of the year - My favourite is definitely the Scott Pilgrim series, but I'm not sure if any of them came out this year. Can't wait for the film next year!
Hottest chick - It's between Kat von D and Vikki Blows, for sure.
Hottest guy - Either Garrett Hunter or Noel Fielding. Yum.
Fashion icon - It's between Kat von D and Hayley Williams. I bow down to their almighty fashion sense. Wow.
Accessory of the year - My leather jacket. Love it. Or Docs!
Biggest achievements - Completing my semester abroad, losing a stone in weight, accepting myself, getting into a new relationship...

It's been a pretty fucking good year... I can't say that enough! I wrote more than I have in ages, met some amazing people, had fantastic experiences, drank a shitload, rocked out, worse some awesome clothes, pulled some hot people, discovered great new shit...and so much more! Here's to 2010 - the next decade is going to be even fucking better!!!

That's what you get

I went to see Paramore last night, one of my favourite bands in the world, for the second time (I saw them in the summer of '08 the same week I saw Radiohead - go figure) and they were AWESOME! I constantly have to justify my reasons for loving this band. Basically, I listen to their music because they're fun, they write catchy songs, Hayley has a fantastic voice, they can play (unlike lots of other, very popular, bands) and they really rock it out live. Of course, the O2 was flooded with emo kids and hipsters (grrr....) last night for the show, and I have to admit, in the beginning I felt very, very old. But then I got checked out by boys of about 15 years of age, and I felt all right again.

I ran into a couple of 18-year-old kids there (the emo's very rock 'n' roll cousin and his girlfriend) and they remarked that they were glad to see me because at least that meant they weren't the oldest people there. "What the hell ARE you doing here?" the cousin remarked, looking very shocked indeed. I unzipped my Slipknot hoodie (sacrilege to wear it to a Paramore gig, I know, but there were kids there in trenchcoats and Metallica tees so I wasn't the worst) to reveal my customized-to-shit RIOT! T-shirt, and he nodded knowingly. The Paramore T-shirts that were on sale at the gig were actually a bit shit, but kids were buying them up like crazy. I never had money when I was a teenager (I still don't actually), so I always bought my band tees big and made 'em into dresses or grungy tanks and shit (I still do that too, come to think of it...). I was happy with my grungy, last album tee. I felt like a proper fan, if there really is such a thing (I hate it when people say that, what does that even mean!?).

Before the main show, there were three emo support bands, of which we only saw one and a half. Based on what we caught, I'm guessing all three were dreadful. One just stood there making shapes, whining and playing electronic keyboards. Very odd, but the kids loved it. Saz was excited to see the main support, Youmeatsix, but was underwhelmed by their set, which as she put it, didn't really pack enough punch. At one point, the deliciously British frontman (oh, that dirty accent...swoon...) attempted to get the crowd to part and create circle pits. They probably tried, but I was laughing too hard to notice. Attention Youmeatsix lead singer: It's okay for Bring Me The Horizon to do that, because at least they scream and headbang and thrash around, but the lead singer of an emo band, wearing ill-fitting drainpipes, a tight T-shirt and a floppy fringe, should NEVER ask his fans to create circle pits because, well, most of them don't know what those are, and the rest are too afraid of getting crushed or messing up their outfits.

Speaking of outfits, my god some of them were a disgrace! I felt like an old woman thinking that, but seriously! I remember going to gigs half-dressed when I was 15, but that was mainly because I knew I wouldn't be able to jump about the place with a big coat on or a bag hanging off me. That and because I was so hyped up on excitement and energy for the gig, I didn't notice the cold. But these kids weren't just half-dressed and overly-confident, they were on another level entirely. Most of the outfits we saw could be better described as costumes. It was as if they were all trying to outdo each other by being the most emo, or the most slutty or the most unique, so to speak, because all following the same style means one is NOT unique. It was funny and upsetting at the same time, but definitely entertaining.

More shocking than their clothes, however, was the amount of kids (predominantly girls) being stretchered out of the arena before Paramore even came on. The emo's cousin said he'd spotted two being dragged out of the crowd before the first support came on. And we saw another being dragged out of the toilets after throwing up, presumably for a while since it was long enough to warrant security having to step in, when we'd only just arrived. It was sickening, but really confusing too. Something I never understood when I was that age, and still don't to this day, is why anybody would want to get hammered at a gig. I mean, after paying 40 or 50 or even 60 odd quid for the ticket, why ruin your night, or your friend's for that matter by drinking too much and vomiting everywhere and having to be taken out? Or worse yet, why put run the risk of missing the band completely? I don't get it, and I probably never will. It makes me sound old, I know, but I don't care. I will never understand why people go to gigs with the sole intention of getting wasted, thus missing the band(s). That's why Oxegen sucks so much, and why I'll never, ever go (even though Nine Inch Nails played last year). It is a festival that is more about the drinking and the atmosphere than the music. And who would pay 200 quid for that!? (lots of people, actually).

Anyway, the gig! Paramore came on at the shockingly late time of 9.30, but it was very shortly after Youmeatsix so it wasn't too bad. They played for an hour and 15 mins, which was quite short indeed, and begged the question - why so many fucking support bands!? Why not just Youmeatsix, a break and then the main attraction at 9. Or even 8.30, which was considered late when I went to my first gig in the Point (Foo Fighters in 2002). They opened with a song I didn't recognise, although it was probably from the all right new album, Brand New Eyes (too many slow songs for my taste, not enough rock-out moments). Hayley wore black drainpipes, black Nike runners and a red tank top emblazoned with the cringeworthy slogan "Rather be DEAD (crossed out) ALIVE". Still, she looked gorgeous and very natural as always. Her hair is now bleached blonde, which suits her but looked a bit dry. She had very little make-up on, maybe a bit of mascara and light foundation if anything at all. I love her, she's fucking awesome.

They launched into Ignorance, the first single and standout track of the new album, second after the opener, which drove the crowd (including me) absolutely mental as we jumped about eagerly, screaming along with her at the top of our lungs. I think they should've opened with that, but I guess they wanted to mix it up a bit, and it sounded great even second.

The short set flew by, but hits like That's What You Get, Crushcrushcrush, Emergency and Pressure were stormed through with aplomb. Hayley jumped about, head-banged and danced nerdily (probably not a word, but it should be) like she was having as good a time as we were (which she apparently was, commenting on how amazed she was by the size of the venue and their ability to fill it). There was an edge to the proceedings, too. As a band, they were tighter than last time, and the guitar work was more interesting, slightly different to how it appears on the albums. Her singing, as always, totally blew me away. She has an incredible voice, and it really holds up well live.

There were a few slow songs, maybe three, that sort of dragged the set down a little bit. Paramore have a decent amount of slow songs to choose from, the best of which is We Are Broken, which they for some reason don't like playing live. Instead, a couple from the new album were taken out, such as a very sweet The Only Exception (done on acoustic guitars with a sea of mobile phone lights dancing all around). They held up okay live, but I found myself itching for the next upbeat track so that I could hop about again. The thing about Paramore is that they have a great, much bigger back catalogue to choose from than most people realise. That's what made the song choices both weird and understandable, depending on which way one looks at it.

The rest of the Brand New Eyes tracks they chose to play held up very well live indeed, much more than I'd anticipated, in particular Careful, Where The Lines Overlap, Looking Up and Turn It Off (which begins with the cringey lyric "I cut my knees while I was praying"). They didn't play my favourite off the album, Feeling Sorry, much to my disappointment. I thought they'd definitely play it, because it kicks so much ass on the album, but meh.

Other notable exceptions were For A Pessimist, I'm Pretty Optimistic, All We Know, My Heart, and, most shockingly of all, Born For This (their fan anthem, nearly always played near the end of the set, it always gets a massive reaction from the crowd). These fan favourites were probably left out to make way for newer tracks, which is understandable, but still kind of sucked.

That brings me to my next point, the very strange encore choices. After coming back onstage, all dressed in Irish jerseys, Paramore kicked autographed footballs out into the audience, and Hayley gleefully told us that they had a few more songs for us. And then they launched into...Misguided Ghosts (!?), yet another slow one, from Brand New Eyes. Hayley sat on a speaker and dangled her legs over the crowd, while being accompanied by the two lads on acoustic guitars. It was sweet and sounded great, but the buzz around me confirmed that everybody was waiting for the same thing.

Luckily it came directly after, thank fuck, when the little opening bit to Misery Business started up and Hayley counted us in, noticeably brimming with excitement. Misery Business is, according to Hayley and most Paramore fans, their best track to date. And it made the O2 jump last night, much in the same way the RDS did last year. It was INCREDIBLE. I felt like I was 15 again, and my neck is still killing me from it. They really rocked it out, to the point of exhaustion, and all I could think about afterwards, dripping with sweat and high on energy, was that the only song they could possibly finish with after that was Born For This.

Instead, for some unknown reason, they launched into Brick By Boring Brick, a decent enough song from the new album. We left just before it ended, not really having any desire to hang around for it, and discussed the odd setlist the entire way back into the city. I was buzzing with excitement, while the others were happy enough with it. I dunno whether it was because they expected something different, or they just weren't as into it, but I loved it anyway!

It was a great gig, even with the strange setlist choices. Hayley looked great and sounded amazing, the kids moved a lot more than last time (when they stood still as stone and gave out to us for jumping about) and the band were on top form. The standout moment was undoubtedly the last song before they left the stage, before the encore. Hayley led up to it perfectly, telling us "The last time we were here, I remember we were working on a song for a movie.." (cue hysterical screaming). All right, Twilight may be a bit shit, but Decode is a fucking fantastic song. The crowd screamed it along with Hayley, louder than we'd been all night, and it sounded fucking amazing. Not only that, but it felt amazing to hear it live. I couldn't contain my excitement, I was like a little fangirl or something. I tried to call my little sis, but later found out she was sick in bed and couldn't pick up the phone (she was devastated when she heard what song I'd been trying to call her during). It was truly incredible, one of the best gig moments of my life. I can't explain how it felt, it was like when Slipknot did SIC the first time I saw them, or Dead Memories the second time. Or Metallica doing Whiskey In The Jar. Or MSI doing Faggot. It's just that moment when the room around me dissolved and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Truly mind-blowing.

Paramore are a band that are written off a lot, partly because of their strong religious background, partly because most music reviewers dismiss them as just another emo band (that means you, Irish Times ents listings writer) when they are, in fact, much more talented than a lot of the other shite out there and not even technically classified as "emo". There was no comparison between Youmeatsix and Paramore last night; the former just weren't as tight or as inventive. I saw My Chemical Romance a couple of years ago, at a festival, and I've stood up for them ever since as maybe being a bit pathetic, but still having put on one hell of a show and genuinely been able to do their songs live. Paramore are one step better than them. Not only can Hayley fucking sing, but they can play. And that's all I really ask for from a band - that they can play, do their songs some justice live, that they care about their fans, they give value for money, do something different and, most importantly, create music that I enjoy listening to and want to listen to all the time. Paramore, for me, tick all of those boxes.

I got a lot of shit for going to see them last night, but I had an absolutely amazing time and even though the set was weird and a bit short, they were really, really great. I'd go see them again tonight if I could! They didn't disappoint, and musical elitism is bullshit anyway so I'll wear my RIOT! tee proudly and not give a shit because, really, that's just me. I'm so sick of people trying to prove a point. Just like what you like and fuck what everybody else thinks.


Song of the day: Paramore - Decode.

What a life I do lead

It's been a while since I've updated this... Shit...

I've just been for a run in the cool, crisp Dublin night air and I'm feeling energetic so I'll give this a go and see what I come up with.

The last ten days or so have been INSANE. After being royally fucked over by our German lecturer, who after five years of doing this course still doesn't know what the fuck she's doing, the eight other students in my class and I were left with a week to create a 28-page bilingual glossy called Ausblick. It was ten days of absolute hell. I barely left the newsroom at all except to go to a few choice lectures and, halfway through last week, it was announced that the public service strike wasn't going ahead so I was left with a day to come up with a presentation on my dissertation topic. I got it done somehow, and surprisingly enough it went pretty well. I even made my lecturer laugh with a photo of Miley Cyrus eating an ice-cream (my dissertation topic isn't completely stupid, really). I thought what I'd chosen was a bit silly but the more I research it, the more I love it. If I were Dill, I'd come up with some way to make it really deep and meaningful. But sadly I am not, so I'll just stick with my Miley Cyrus ice cream slurping photos.

I learned I had a flair for layout while struggling to put the magazine together, and the finished product looked absolutely fantastic (although we won't get to see the hard copy until next week). I ended up being on the front cover too, which was a bit weird but it fit into the theme of it so meh. The emo photoshopped the hell out of the image and made it look really cool, too. All of our hard work paid off but, as usual, people who didn't pull their weight still got credited. It's the same way across the board, so I suppose there's no use in complaining about it really. People from another class (I won't say which) were complaining about one person in particular not pulling his/her (ooh which is it) weight and I was amazed that, having worked with him/her for four years, they hadn't figured out yet that he/she is completely unreliable. I sympathised with them, though, because we all know what it's like to have to work with shitheads. Which is exactly why I'm doing radio this year...urgh...

I haven't been out since Dill's 21st, which is absolutely pathetic. The closest I came to it was dragging the emo to see New Moon the weekend before last. First, let me just say that I am not, nor have I ever been, a fan of the Twilight series. They are dreadfully contrived, badly written fantasy novels dreamed up by a woman with serious emotional problems. Reading them makes me both bored and annoyed, and dealing with so-called twihards, although often quite amusing, infuriates me after a bit. However, I am a huge fan of Kristen Stewart in all of her awkward, rock 'n' roll hotness, and I didn't want to miss an opportunity to see her running about the place all moody with her brow furrowed and her fringe in her eyes. I was very pleased to find that there were several scenes in which she did not wear a bra and another extended running sequence during which I got a good look at her tits (under her top - boo), which are about the same size as mine but still nice. She is a very, very sexy girl. Mmm...


She also wears Cons with everything, which I think is so cool. In fact, I wore Cons all of last week with everything so I could be just like her. I told the emo afterwards and he remarked that I'm more of nerd than I first appear. He's probably right, but I don't care because I never claimed to be cool anyway.

As for the others, Footface (Rob Pattinson to normal people, RobPatz to fangirls) was more wooden than in the previous film, if that's humanly possible. Luckily, there wasn't a lot of him in it. The visions Bella has in the book were done very badly, so much so that he looked like a hologram about to launch into Princess Leia's speech from Episode Four (which is really episode one, becaue I discount the new Star Wars movies on account of their utter shittiness). Although I found the reveal of Pattinson's painted-on torso very amusing indeed. The native American looking lad who everybody is creaming their pants over, even though he is a 17-year-old with a six pack, did a hell of a lot better than I thought he would. Of all of them, his and Bella's relationship was the most believable and their acting was probably the strongest. Charlie, Bella's father, is still my favourite character in the books and now the films, but it goes without saying that he did a kick-ass job. Suzi Crabgrass from Ned's Declassified (one of my favourite TV shows of all time) wasn't in it nearly enough, either. Or that kid who turns out to be the emo killer dude in All The Boys Love Mandy Lane (easily one of my favourite movies of all time, and a fucking deadly horror movie). Almost everybody else in the film seemed to have suffered some sort of mental condition since the first one. Or maybe that's just the kind of acting required for these films.

The pace was slow, the plot, as it does in the second book, is beginning to show its' holes (like, for instance, why the hell would this chick pick the dickhead who left her and manipulates her and treats her like shit over the best friend who adores her and saves her life and worships her!?) and the majority of characters are thoroughly unlikeable, but it wasn't the worst way to spend a couple of hours. And the emo even managed to fill up with junk food and crack a few jokes before he passed out from boredom.

My wee siblings and I had a free gaff last weekend, and my brother convinced me to have people over on Saturday night, but then decided to go out so it ended up being me, the emo and a few of our buds drinking and playing the new Super Mario Bros game on Wii till about 6AM. It was so much fun. My sister wanted to play too but she fell asleep quite early. I love that my mother has a Brit boyfriend now, because whenever she visits him, the emo and I get to spend proper quality time together and I'm reminded of how great this relationship is. And it really is. It's fun and honest and there are so little drama and headaches and problems. I'm myself around him and he loves me for it. We're nerdy and silly and comfortable together. One of my buds said the other day that a girlfriend to him is more like a best friend who he gets to fuck. I think I agree with that statement, because that's what it feels like with the emo. In the best possible way. I didn't think I'd ever want to be in a relationship again after my last one, and now here I am and I couldn't be happier.

Now that the magazine is finished, I've more time on my hands to write and work out and catch up with people (FINALLY got a chance to have dinner with Noodles last night and catch up a bit - great food and even better conversation, can't wait till we can go out and get hammered together) and do Christmas shopping and...feed my Mega64 obsession... I really do love them. I can't imagine what life would be like without them now! That probably sounds a bit mad, but they're just the funniest guys. And they're so nerdy. And they're totally living the dream. I'd love to come up with a mad idea with my friends and have people love it so much that we eventually could make a living out of it. But until then, I'm just going to have to try my best to get published. Which reminds me that there are only five chapters left in this wonderful story of mine... Noodles and the emo are dying to read the current one, but I've only done one draft of it and it still needs tweaking. It's so strange that I'm almost finished, I don't know how I'll feel when it's done. And discussing our German dissertation in class today just made me realise how much fucking stuff I still have to do. This year is disappearing and I'm starting to wish it'd slow down a bit. I mean, this semester is practically over. And after Christmas, I only have four months until I've to hand in both of my dissertations and finish college for good. It's a scary thought.

Maybe I should be working instead of bullshitting on this stupid blog!

Or maybe I'll just watch one more Mega64 video...


Song of the day: Jack off Jill - Fear of Dying.

Who knew culchies could party so hard!?

Last Friday, I abandoned my beautiful Dublin city for the country, namely Clonmel, Co. Tipperary. I don't usually travel to such places (there is no life outside of Dublin, har de har), but Dill, one of my bestest friends in the whole world, was having a 21st and I just had to be there. The emo insisted on coming along, half because he was in the mood to get pissed, half to keep an eye on Dill (who he doesn't trust around me in the slightest).

The three of us got the bus down there together, despite the fact that the news that day was filled with reports of insane flooding in the area. It took almost four hours to get down there, and the lads bickered quietly most of the way. However, since they're both gentlemen, the fighting was sneaky. Words were exchanged, eyes were rolled, shit was muttered while gazes were averted out the window. It was a slightly uncomfortable trip, especially seeing as I was stuck in the middle of the two of them, desperately trying to lighten the mood. At one point I remember saying "Hey! You both like the IT Crowd!" and they momentarily bonded. Momentarily being the operative word...

We eventually arrived and were welcomed into Dill's ridiculously big house by his ridiculously nice parents. And then we watched the news with them and collectively grumbled about the floods. At some point, I was given a bottle of Merlot all to myself and the emo cracked into his shoulder of Jack. Drinking in front of parents always freaks me out. And the fact that four dogs were running around on top of me at the time didn't really help (one of 'em was a teeny terrier, who ran in circles in my lap). The others arrived late from Dublin, of whom I only knew O and a dude I recognised from one of Dill's plays (I called him the Plagiarism Fairy all night once I figured out his character) but everybody started to relax during dinner (or maybe that was just the wine talking).

At some point or another, it was decided that it was time to leave for the pub. Early enough, probably around 9. So, I nervously got into my brand new dress, which I'd bought especially for the night (don't judge me) at a price much higher than I'd admit. I fell in love with it at first sight, although I'll admit I was very apprehensive about buying it. It was black, short, tight, backless and had a big bow at the back and looked a little something like this...


It was far sexier than I'd thought in the shop, but wearing Docs with it made me feel a bit less over the top. I don't usually wear tight clothing, to be honest. I'm still not entirely comfortable in my own skin, and I tend to hide the top of my body, while emphasising my legs. I'm a long, baggy T-shirt/short dress kinda girl. I always hide something. But there was no hiding in that dress. I showed Dill and his jaw dropped. Literally. That made me even more nervous, so I had a bit more wine before we had to leave.

Anyway, the pub was lovely and there were embarrassing photos of Dill everywhere, which was a nice touch. Surprisingly enough, it wasn't an old man pub as I'd expected. It was sort of young and cool. The emo was ecstatic to discover a round for the two of us cost less than a tenner and he wasted no time in getting wrecked and chatting to everyone (which I was very glad of, seeing as I'd been worried he was going to be nervous and not talk to anyone).

I mingled a lot too, but strangely enough ended up spending a lot of the night with O. The emo asked why we didn't used to be friends, and it sounded bizarre when I said it out loud, but the truth of it was that she was told I hated her and I was told she hated me. That was it, really. People love to start rumours and cause shit. I'll never understand why. Either way, we're buds now so none of that matters anymore.

We attacked the food - delicious and made by Dill's lovely mother - at one stage, in particular a basket of chicken wings. It was fun being around a chick who actually eats and doesn't care. And there's something oddly fun about stuffing one's face while dressed up to the nines. We found more food later on and ate that too! She also surprised me by being frank about shit I didn't think she'd want to discuss, and I was pleasantly surprised to discover that she's not as easily fooled as I once thought. She may just have restored my faith in humanity, although she probably doesn't know that. Without being too sentimental, I'm very glad to have got a chance to explain myself and make amends for my shitty behaviour in the past, and I think we found a common ground. Finally.

The obligatory 21 kisses bit didn't sit well with the emo, and he stormed off outside for the duration of it, which was funny because I didn't end up giving Dill a kiss at all. His mother got in there first! The pub closed alarmingly early and we were all fecked outside to wait for taxis, which in Clonmel are unmarked (slightly creepy, but at least directions to someone's house just involve giving the family name...). I started a fight with a hipster guy for no apparent reason, despite the fact I wasn't that drunk, but we'd made up by the time we reached the house. The emo had to get in the taxi behind me and was none too pleased, but I told him the Plagiarism Fairy would take care of him, and he did.

Back at the house, I started tearing into a giant bottle of vodka while Dill confessed his undying love for me, people picked on a guy that'd passed out and others sang random songs dreadfully out of tune. At some point, probably quite late, Calvin Harris was stuck on, and me and an American-Irish chick got up and gave it loads to it. I don't really know why, because I still didn't manage to get that hammered, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.

People started filtering off to bed at around 6.30AM. After a mix-up of bedrooms, the emo and I had some sort of ridiculous drunken fight over nothing, and I ended up crawling into bed with Dill and two other chicks. Just when I was drifting off, the emo appeared again and freaked that not only was I in bed with Dill, but I was wearing his T-shirt. I tried to calm him down, but to no avail. He announced he was leaving, even though he was told he'd be killed out on the country roads when it was so dark. He re-appeared a bit later on and the two other chicks fucked off so that he and Dill could have a huge drunken argument about who cared more about me...or something. It went on till 8.30AM and then the three of us, plus one of the girls from before, passed out in Dill's bed.

Everything was miraculously fine in the morning, thank fuck.

The emo and I caught the bus back to Dublin around 2.30PM, but he was ridiculously hungover and we had to pull over about twenty minutes outside of Clonmel so he could throw up (although he didn't end up actually vomiting, thankfully). The bus driver was really nice about it and we slept most of the way back after that. Of course, on the bus to his house, he started feeling sick again and we got off in the dreadful rain and wind and cold so that he could throw up. Except he didn't. Again.

When we eventually reached his house, we collapsed in bed and took an hour long nap before we could manage anything else (yup, getting old). We ended up staying in, eating pizza and watching Sorority Row (which he'd downloaded for me ages ago) and An Evening With Kevin Smith 3. We fell asleep around 2AM. Really, we're that exciting a couple. There was no energy for sex until the next morning. And then I headed home to refuel and freshen up before heading back out to his place that night to watch wrestling, drink beer and play video games with he and his best bud, Fionn. It was a great night and I didn't mind paying for it the next day in my awful German lecture.

Of course, even though the weekend kicked some major ass, I'm still recovering from it now, which leads me to believe that I'm getting on a bit... I didn't get to see New Moon last weekend, obviously, cos I was exhausted and broke, but the emo promises we'll get nagins and see it this weekend so I'm really looking forward to that. I know it'll probably be shit, but Kristen Stewart is delish and totally worth sitting through it for. Besides, the emo will keep me entertained. We can do our own Rifftrax!

And now it's time to reward all of my hard work on my media law essay with some Mega64... Ah,bliss...


Song of the day: Feeder - We Can't Rewind.

Can you copyright 'HOPE'?

I don't know if you can copyright 'HOPE'. I should know, because it forms the basis of my massively important media law assignment, but I'm not really not sure yet. I've been trawling through media law books, but I've yet to properly form an opinion. So far, I don't think that the image on the right is violating the copyright of the original (on the left). But I could be wrong. We'll see. Copyright isn't so complicated, and media law itself is turning out to be quite a nice little lecture. I thought it was going to be near-impossible but so far I'm really liking it.

As for everything else in college, the workload is really piling up but I have yet to self-destruct. Success! I got my dissertation proposal in on time, despite the fact the internet in my house was fucked for the best part of a week. The German magazine is going well, and Saz is kicking ass as the editor. My articles are a bit silly and light, but I'm pretty happy with them anyway. As for radio, I went out last weekend (not the one just gone by) to a pretty awesome tattoo convention and not only met lots of cool people and saw many, many great tatts, but I got a shitload of great stuff for my project. I was very nervous approaching people at first, but the emo was there to support me and eventually I got the hang of it.

Speaking of the emo, our lovely little relationship is going very well so far. We've been together a full two weeks and two days (I'm not counting, but he is) and already we've survived a bout of swine flu together, so I'm beginning to think we can survive pretty much anything that's thrown at us. I thought that being tied down to somebody again was going to feel claustrophobic and constricting and horrible, but I actually don't feel that much different. We get along really well, the sex is great, we never run out of stuff to say to each other, we have enough shared interests that we understand each other but also enough differences that it doesn't get boring....so far it's been awesome! It's the relationship I've always wanted, and always thought I deserved, but never seemed to get. It's taken over a year to rebuild my life and myself, but the black cloud has finally lifted. Actually, I think it lifted ages ago. But now I really, really feel it.

My new obsession is Mega64, which of course my brother and the emo have been into for aaaages but didn't think I'd get because I'm a girl. Pricks. It's fucking awesome, and one of them is totally hot (not that that matters). I think I'll post one of their vids here so everybody can see how funny they are! Not that many people read this... Anyway, they're hilarious. And their podcast is fantastic (the hot one is in it). So yeah. They rock. I love them. If I ever met them, I wouldn't know what to say because they are so cool!!!



I was sitting on the bus home today, reading GCN (which is Gay Community News, this awesome free magazine that one of my favourite journos, Declan Cashin, writes for) and the woman sitting next to me kept tutting and looking generally disgusted. What was funny was that I was reading an article about all of the homophobia that came out after Stephen Gately's death (in particular Jan Noir's article). This country is still so fucking backwards. Although a lot of people, both straight and gay, don't think I have any right to speak on the subject because I'm bisexual and bisexuality doesn't exist. I wish I could tell that to the eleven-year-old me who fancied a chick and got bullied mercilessly over it.

I'm heading to the country this weekend for one of my best friends in the world's 21st birthday, which should be a laugh. I'm undecided about what to wear. I'm very, very nervous to meet lots of new people who will probably think I'm a loon, but I'm also very excited to be able to drink again now that I am finally off antibiotics! Woo!

Shit, my life is so boring...

Em... I've been writing as much as I possibly can, seeing as it's one of the only things that keeps me sane. It's going well, although I'm worried that my characters don't feel real enough. I suppose that's a worry most writers have at some point or another. But it's going really well anyway. I'm starting to wonder if I'll be being paid for this in ten years' time. Here's hoping!

People are talking a lot about Jedward at the moment. I don't watch The X Factor so I don't know why they're worth discussing really, but I looked up their performances and it's funny how shit they are. People have also been discussing Pat Kenny getting heckled by some loon in the crowd on Frontline the other night. It was funny, but also very uncomfortable. Never before have I heard the word "pontificating" used so much in the one speech!

I wish I had more money to buy new clothes and get more tattoos. I got this great leather jacket the other week, I fucking love it. My sister went mental though, cos she wanted the same one and now she can't get it. But since she went to that anime con, I've lost a lot of respect for her. That and she fucking WORSHIPS Tokio Hotel. My hair is still blue for some unknown reason, which means I look even crazier, and a lot of my clothes don't really go with it. I'm kind of getting used to it, though, and I'm a bit sick of the blonde so it may be time for a change. Oooh...ominous...

Okay, enough shit. Time to get back to work. Or watch more Mega64 vids...



Song of the day: The Aquabats - Sequence Erase (this song gets me smiling no matter what mood I'm in).

Do the skit!

Most people won't get that title...oh well, I'll continue on regardless. So I found out on Monday, en route to college, that the emo had swine flu, and seeing as we'd spent most of the weekend making out and groping each other, the chances were I had it too. After getting an earful from my mother (sample: "HOW COULD YOU BE SO STUPID!? I'LL KILL HIM! WE'RE ALL GONNA GET IT NOW!") she rushed me to the doctor, who confirmed, after complimenting me on my blue hair - urgh, wash out already - that I did indeed have it. Oh, she also gave me antibiotics for my gum infection. Score!

So, as a result of said diagnosis, I have been quarantined in my bedroom for the past three days. Now, most people enjoy being ill and getting time off work/college/whatever. Not me. Having time off may have been fun in primary school, it may even have been fun in secondary school, but in college, especially final year, it's not fun at all. Why? Because one still has work to do, shit to hand in and e-mails to send explaining the fact that one is stuck in bed with swine flu and will return to class when one can stand and is not infectious.

When I first heard about swine flu, I was terrified I'd get it and die. Why, I don't know, because only people who are already ill, anorexic or very, very old die from it. Now that I have it, I'm not that scared anymore. But that's probably because I've lost the will to feel. Or live. Not only does swine flu include symptoms such as headaches, nausea, vomiting, aches and pains, dizziness, loss of appetite, stuffy nose and coughing, the result of all of these things is that all one can do is lay there till it passes. Which takes a week. I should be enjoying missing college and laying in bed all day, right? I suppose. If only I could walk up and down the stairs. Or eat. Or stop coughing for five minutes. My mother offers very little sympathy, mostly because she's afraid of catching it herself (she heard Fionn and his mother both have it and nearly passed out) but she does bring me dinner in bed. Not that I can eat dinner. The whole thing is like a massive catch-22. Grr...

So, besides doing college work (which I began today, seeing as it was the first day I could sit up for an extended period of time), I've mostly been filling my time with bad TV and a multitude of podcasts, mostly of the Kevin Smith Smodcast variety and the excellent Mega 64 (which is where the title of this blog comes from). Mega 64 is something the emo introduced me to, and at first I thought I wouldn't really get it because of all of the video game references, but it's genius and I absolutely love it. In fact, it's the only thing keeping me sane. Watching hours and hours of four lads sitting around talking bullshit in a fake campfire set or crazy YouTube vids they've made about...well...nothing, really. It's awesome! Seriously, these guys are really fucking funny.

I also watched the episode of Sabrina where she had the finger flu. It was good. Even better when I could FEEL her PAIN.

Seriously though, swu ain't so bad. I mean, it is and I'm dying with it, but it's not so bad. I hate missing college and exercise and being stuck here alone with nothing to do. But surprisingly, I've found out how many people are willing to keep me company in such dire situations (turns out, a lot of people). Noodles dropped by earlier with the complete Father Ted boxset, which pretty much makes him a saint in my eyes. If the emo weren't ill too, I'd have him bring over the entire Mega 64 back catalogue and I'd be set! But sadly he is sick, which is kinda cool because this way somebody else knows what I'm going through. Although, I have to admit, he seems to be getting it a lot worse than me. Probably because he's so skinny.

I'm sleeping with a load of pills next to my bed, I feel like a junkie, or Heath Ledger right before he died...may he rest. I hope this gum thing clears up. It kills!!

Fuck, my tattoo itches like crazy... My mother still hasn't noticed it, which is impressive seeing as it's on my wrist. Thank fuck for long sleeves!


Song of the day: Disturbed - Down with the sickness (couldn't resist giving it a listen earlier).

Anything can happen on Halloween

Halloween has always been my favourite holiday. I love dressing up, eating junk food, drinking heavily, the spooky atmosphere, the great weather around this time... I just love everything about it. And this year was no exception. In fact, it kicked more ass than it usually does.

Last year, I ended up at a party in the emo's house (when I barely knew him) and spent most of the night having a blast drunkenly chatting to people, until Star and some of her troublemaker friends (who she is no longer friends with) upset one of the emo's friends and the atmosphere got a bit tense. They were thrown out, but me and Niamh (who had been dragged along by me) had to stay because Saz was asleep in the emo's bed with a gorgeous guy (who will remain nameless) and we couldn't leave without her. Also Niamh had been drinking and couldn't drive. So, we ended up staying awake very late chatting to the emo, who spent the entire time staring at his nails and refusing to make eye contact, until a more suitable hour when we could leave. These days, I know he does that when he's nervous or uncomfortable. But back then I thought he was awkward and cute. Although I texted him later that day to thank him and apologise for my friends' behaviour, I didn't hear from him again until December when, sitting in a pub in York with Niamh and Saz, I got a text that started off the pseudo-relationship between the two of us that has been going on for almost a year at this stage.

This year was very different. After talking to Star last weekend and realising that we were actually on the same page, and more than that, fucking best friends, all that was left was for the emo to make it official. I was nervous all week. I tried to do as much college work and see as many people as possible, but in the back of my head the whole time was this nagging voice asking when he was going to do it, and even more worrying, if I was ready.

He and I hung out during the week and on Thursday headed out to our favourite rock bar to get hammered and, naturally, rock out. Dylan was there on a date with his new alt chick, although the only thing I remember him saying to me is that he was on a date. Maybe I was just ridiculously hammered, but I'm pretty sure he was avoiding me. Tar pulled a girl he's been after since he was 15 and Noodles almost pulled but the chick disappeared before he could. It was a great night that ended with some mind-blowing, insane drunken sex in the emo's place.

We rested up, chatted to his mother, worked on my costume (for which he made me a giant hammer) and headed off to town where we assembled the rest of my outfit. He was exhausted, so he slept while I dyed my hair blue and got ready to be the most awesome chick in the world, Ramona Flowers. In the end, I think I looked pretty well. Although nobody really knew who I was, and most people thought I was Lily Allen (don't ask me why). We went to a party in Aaron's, a friend of my friend Hel (who I've known since I was 4) that was without a doubt one of the maddest parties I've ever been to. The music was electro and mental, the people were drunk and drugged off their faces, the house was trashed. At one point, Hel got out her nipple ring and encouraged me to do the same. Since I'd had about a million of her insane cocktails (one consisted of two shots of Jager, three of vodka and a splash of Red Bull), I did so. She complimented me on my boobs and we continued on like nothing had happened. If I haven't said so before, she's one of my favourite people in the whole world, not to mention one of the most metal chicks I know.

The emo, who was dressed as Joey Jordison, spilled many a jelly shot and drink on his suit and had to square up to guys who hit on me or were insulted by his lack of X Factor knowledge. "Somebody needs to upgrade their Sky package" one of them, who was dressed as one half of that Irish duo who suck and are making a mockery of us on the show, quipped. He did well, though, managing to chat to lots of people and not appear too nervous. The toilet had two doors, neither of which locked, which led out into the cement garden. At one point, the emo took me out there, presumably with the intention of asking me out, but we hurried back in once we realised what a hole it was. On the way home, we ate burgers the size of our faces and gawked at Bizarre.

We slept late the next day, much to my mother's annoyance, and then headed into the rain and wind of town to a little tattoo parlour in Temple Bar. It was where I got my first tattoo and is run by two Italian brothers. I love it, because unlike other places, the people are friendly and put one at ease. The emo was nervous to get his first tattoo (a heart-shaped skull from Serenity Rose, a fantastic comic book series) but he barely made any noise during it. Unlike me. I knew my wrist was going to hurt like hell, but I wasn't prepared for just how much. Being that I used to cut a lot, I felt strangely calmed by the familiarity of it. But afterwards it stung. Like a bitch. After the outline, the tattoo artist asked me if I was sure I wanted it shaded. I said I was, even though deep down I was screaming. Even so, it was worth it. I've always wanted to get a tattoo done on Halloween, and the emo's was a nice introduction into a world he knows little about (except for the tatt on his knuckles which he did himself with a scalpel and ink). I love getting tattooed. I can't wait for my next one. Although deciding which it's going to be will be hard..

We were standing in the rain, waiting for my bus back home, when he suddenly leaned in and asked me. I wasn't expecting it at all, and I probably blushed a hell of a lot. But I pulled myself together enough to say yes. And then we had some sort of movie kiss that I didn't think existed in real life. I sat in a daze the whole way back. I felt different and yet, completely the same. I've waited over a year to commit to somebody, not just because I wanted to play the field. I wanted to learn from my past mistakes and grow up so that I'd know when it felt right. And it did. It really, really did. Or it does, rather.

I can barely even think the words... I'm somebody's girlfriend.

That night we went to the pub in Bray with some of our crowd (but not Noodles, who was sadly too tired, or Scooby, who was in Manchester seeing Green Day AGAIN) and the emo gushed that we'd finally made it official. Although there were some sceptics in the bunch, everybody was happy for us. We went back to one of the lads' houses and watched movies and drank and ate junk food till 4.30AM. I was exhausted, and in pain because of this wretched gum infection that I'm only now getting around to fixing, but I stuck it out for as long as I could. Me, the emo and the emo's best bud (who thankfully doesn't think I'm a loon after I fell asleep in his house the other week during a wrestling match) strolled home in the rain, we collapsed into bed and that was it, Halloween was over again for another year.

I can't believe it's already over, but I had an absolute blast with lots of awesome people. Not to mention the fact that my costume kicked major ass (not that a lot of people got it). As for being somebody's girlfriend again, I have to admit that the whole thing makes me slightly nervous. I've made a lot of mistakes in the past. And although I hope I've learned from them, the fear of making them again remains with me. I know he's different. And I know that what happened before will never happen again, but it still scares me. I survived it once, only just barely. I don't think I could survive it again.

As for not picking Star in the end, there were a lot of reasons for that. I value honesty above all things, and there is a side of her that worries me. It's the side of her that comes out when people are bitching about me or sending me vicious emails, and she sits back and lets it happen instead of sticking up for me. I've spent most of the last year sticking up for her, and sometimes I worry that I've been made a fool of. But last week, when we hung out and got to chat, I realised that the old her is still there, just carefully hidden. And that in itself gives me hope for the future. She's fucking awesome, and a part of me will always love her. But for now, all we can be is friends.

I feel like I'm getting ridiculously heavy now, but I can't pretend that this wasn't a huge turning point for me because it was. It is. I know I've made the right choice, I know that we love each other and respect each other and that underneath it all we are best friends. I'm still scared, of course. But it's a good kind of scared. I'm excited. A new chapter is beginning.

Fuck, that sounded so ominous...


Song of the day: American Head Charge - Just So You Know.

I'll just start typing and see what I come up with

I wore a corset to college today and now my tummy kinda hurts... I couldn't really breathe for most of my one lecture, but I think it was worth it. My lecturer referred to me as avant-garde, which I'm not really but it was still nice to hear.

I've just been running in the dark, which is always fun (unless there's a big dude following behind at an unnaturally slow pace - man I hate that H2 trailer), but it was especially good tonight because of the light drizzle hitting my face throughout. I love this time of year. I hate the cold, but kicking through the leaves and wrapping up warmly and the feeling of Halloween in the air really get me going...

College has been ridiculously overwhelming this week. And last week. And, well, ever since fourth year started actually! It's not that I think I won't be able to get all of the work done, or that there's too much, or anything like that. It's more the pressure of having to come up with a million brilliant ideas all at once. We were given our media law assignment on Wednesday and I almost cried with happiness when I spotted that the lecturer had chosen a topic for us, because at least that's one less thing to worry about. I have a presentation on Monday morning auf Deutsch about two articles for our German magazine, the subjects of which I'm still undecided on. It just sucks because we're being marked on EVERYTHING we do. Urgh.. As for dissertation number one, I have a million ideas, none of which seem particularly plausible. And then there's radio. And TV. And the writing competitions I've taken it upon myself to enter. And the fashion magazine O has just launched. And a million little assignments along the way. I feel like my head is exploding sometimes. And yet, the days and weeks seem to be progressing so quickly... It's insane. I feel like I have nothing done, even though time is going by so fast.

This is final year, though. So I guess I should shut up complaining and get to work.

Or I shall continue blogging.

Speaking of which, The Irish Times Donald Clarke gave out about the use of "blogging" as a verb in his last Screenwriter column in The Ticket, so I feel maybe I should stop using it too. I don't agree with everything he has to say, but he nearly always gets it right. And he is very funny too. I'll get around to reading his blog whenever I feel like it. I was reading Ian O'Doherty's iSpy column online in an unnecessary lecture about research the other day and I felt like a traitor to the journalistic profession (I still love him though, even if he is hated and kinda shit sometimes).

I've had a pathetic excuse for a social life lately. My mother went away with her lovely boyfriend last weekend (to the same place Stephen Gately died - RIP my first celebrity crush) and I didn't go out once while she was away. Instead, the emo came over and he, my sis and I hung out all weekend watching movies and eating junk food. He finally got to give her the pic he drew of her and Bill Kaulitz from Tokio Hotel and she was absolutely ecstatic, placing it proudly next to her Bill shrine on the wall next to her bed. I dunno whether it's because he has a little sister the same age, but he gets along really, really well with her. She thinks he's a bit mental, but when he got a sort of moody one of the nights and I explained about his illness and the pills he's recently decided to take, she seemed to warm to him even more. I hope that one day she will have a freak of her own.

It was a great weekend, especially because he and I FINALLY got to sleep in my bed (which is far bigger than his) for once, meaning a lot of awesome sex all weekend and the obligatory bit of cuddling too (his idea, not mine). It was great. We went out for dinner on Sunday night to the Bad Ass Cafe, which used to be one of my favourite restaurants but has undergone a makeover and now kind of sucks. There was no spaghetti bolognese on the menu, for one. The portions are smaller and the prices are higher. We witnessed a druggie feud outside the window in Crown Alley (why is Doran's now called 3 Crown Alley!?) which was quite exciting, but also a bit nerve-wracking. I'll probably never stop missing the safety of Munich. Dublin feels very rough in comparison. Anyway, we both had burgers and chips, he a bacon and cheese, me just cheese, and it was all delicious and very filling. But overall I was kind of disappointed. There's a new "proper restaurant" vibe to the place that makes me kinid of uncomfortable. I might just be being picky though, because I love Wagamamas, Yamamori, the IFI, FXB's, Pizzas 'n' Cream (in Bray, but still), etc so much... Still, it was a great end to a great weekend.

I've been spending a lot of time with my good bud Dylan lately (who I've realised is more like Chris O'Dowd than Dylan Moran, but I'll keep the name regardless) which is fucking awesome because he's been so busy that we've barely hung out since college started back. He's finally found some chick to make out with on a regular basis, which is great for him because if anybody deserves somebody fantastic, it's him. I'm not allowed to meet her, though, in case I scare her away or seduce her. I've been over at his flat lately, which is smaller than my place in Munich but still grand nonetheless. Usually we drink red wine and chat about life, but last time I brought along Front (one of my fave lads' mags, they feature Vikki Blows a lot) and we gawked at hot chicks all night too, which was great fun. He always provides a new perspective on things, whether it's why I'm not going on the class trip (there's one big reason, I told L earlier in the week, one which I don't care to discuss) or when I'm going to finally be able to commit to the emo. I love hanging with him, I hope we can still do it when my brain starts exploding later on in the year. He always seems so calm, probably because he's so fucking good at everything he does. I get very jealous, but then I remember he's much more insecure than he lets on, and a genuinely nice guy (hard to come by).

Fuck this is a long blog...

What else?

I've been working out for an hour a day every day and I'm starting to see some serious results, which is fucking deadly.

I'm re-reading the Scott Pilgrim series again before the final part comes out.

I read Bryan Lee O'Malley's Lost At Sea this week and it was beautiful, if a little bit emo.

I'm itching for a new tattoo, but I can't afford one just yet.

I finally got to register the other day, which means getting re-acquainted with the library.

I got notice today that I'm getting my grant this year, which is a huge weight off my shoulders.

I'm feeling pretty fucking good most of the time, which is new for me but in a great way.

I probably have lots more to say but I can't remember right now.

The new Paramore album is amazing, I can't wait to see them in December!!



Song of the day: Placebo - Running Up That Hill (one of the best covers I have ever heard).

The feeling of having grown up somewhat

That looks like a pretty pretentious title, but bear with me because I just typed this up on the spot.

Last Thursday, I went out with my boys (and the Scoob) and got royally HAMMERED. I love my drink, as everybody knows. I love being drunk and out of my head and crazy. I love everything about it, from blurry nights out to random conversations and strange hook-ups that ordinarily would never happen. Asides from being sick at the end of it, it's better than drugs. Almost. Luckily, I haven't been sick from drink since Germany. Woo! I went into college the next morning hungover as fuck, doing the walk of shame like you wouldn't believe. Half the class were hungover, and as a result the tiny room we were in stunk of booze. But I was grand. My mother's boyfriend was over that night and clearly not impressed with my hard-partying habits. My mother even made me walk to the voting place as punishment (because in her eyes I'm a bit of an anarchist). The emo came over that night and cheered me up. It was a good day, all things considered. And the night before was EPIC!!

Although Thursday was one of the best nights out I've had in ages, there was an ever so slightly negative tinge to the proceedings. Star turned up, drunk out of her head, hand in hand with another girl who she then made out with graphically for the entire night while in close proximity to me. It was so blatant that there's no way it wasn't on purpose. And it just made it blindingly obvious to me how much she's changed over the past few months. And it's really, really sad. Anyway, I was ignored and thus made no attempt to speak to her. She was busy, after all. The next day, I got a text asking why I hadn't spoken to her. We fought a bit (which we never do) and she told me that things with us weren't "serious" which sort of broke my heart a little. Now we have to meet up and talk in person, which I really don't want to do. As much as I adore her, the negatives about the relationship are beginning to outweigh the positives.

Let's see... Almost all of her friends hate me. They all love causing drama, talking shit about people and taking ridiculous amounts of drugs. As exciting as it is to be a part of that world, I wouldn't want to stay there for too long because it just fucks with my already fucked up head. And that infamous mistake she made while I was away wasn't just a mistake, it was the mistake. Besides, if she isn't serious about me, what's the point?

I'll still go see her though. If it's over, it's over. But I don't want to cut her out of my life. Not just yet, anyway.

On Saturday, I accompanied the emo to a party in Greystones. It was this chick Ally's 21st and I wasn't exactly invited. Luckily, neither was Fionn (the emo's best friend) so I wasn't the only odd one out. Ally and her boyfriend Richard haven't always got the best impression of me. This is mainly because one of their closest friends is a girl, let's call her Beth (because of her love for Beth Ditto and striking resemblance to her har de har), who hates me and last summer spread rumours about me sleeping with Mewes (who tried and failed to speak to me on Thursday, fucking spa), amongst other horrible things, to put Star off being with me. She doesn't know me at all and yet has always had the worst things to say about me. I've never retaliated, because I know she's too much of a coward to say anything to my face. Needless to say, she is one of the druggy, bitchy set who Star surrounds herself with on a regular basis. She upset Frodo the other week, too, which pissed me right the way off because he is one of the nicest, most accepting people I've ever met. This guy took me in when I had no friends and made me a part of his group. He's the closest thing to a living saint and he's been through hell.

Anyway, Beth was there on Saturday and, about halfway through the night, I was informed (by a gay Frenchman no less) that she'd been talking shit about me all night. Having had great conversations with both Richard and Ally earlier on, I'd no intention of causing any kind of disturbance so I just ignored him. And then he started on about me and the emo, who was pretty drunk at the time and didn't exactly take it well. It was one of those ridiculously unnecessary situations where somebody tries to cause drama and stir up petty shit because he/she has nothing better to do with his/her time. And I know I'm an easy target for it, but that doesn't make it right.

Richard came over just in time to hear pretty much the whole thing, and Noodles later told me he was well impressed with the way I handled myself. I wasn't shocked, but I was quite surprised I have to admit. It's not unusual for people to assume that I'm the one causing trouble, purely because shit tends to be aimed at me. And it pisses me off. I would never go to a party, let alone one I wasn't invited to, and cause shit. I have more respect than that, no matter what anybody says.

Somehow, I managed to put that across and it was in that moment that I realised how much I've changed and grown up over the past year. I suppose I really did have to be completely destroyed in order to emerge stronger. And it feels fucking great.


Song of the day: Paramore - Ignorance (just got this album the other day and this song is great).

I think I've found my Halloween costume...

Ramona Flowers. I wish I were as cool as this chick, I really do. (I don't believe the emo when he says I'm like his Ramona, because she's much too cool!!). But I probably never will be, so being her for one night will do!! I'm so excited for the Scott Pilgrim film, it's quite ridiculous! I've seen photos and vlogs from the set and everything is looking great - Michael Cera is adorable as always, although I'm wondering how exactly he's going to play Scott. I'm a bit disappointed that Mary Elizabeth Winstead (who's playing Ramona) is going to be wearing wigs for the whole thing. Bleach and hair dye, dude. I used to do it all the time! Although, I suppose it is a miracle I have any hair left so maybe the makers of the film didn't want to take that chance.. Still, it would've been cooler! Gah! I'm so excited! I think I'll read all of the comics again before the final one in January. It feels so far away. Fuck's sake.

Okay, back to the essay.


Song of the day: Deftones - Minerva (I hadn't heard this song in a while and it helped me get up to the top of hill number two on my run earlier on - a struggle every time I do it. Atmospheric and beautiful, it's one of my few faves by Deftones).

Life or something like it

So, the first week of fourth year is over and I can honestly say I am EXHAUSTED. Between all of the talk of dissertations, presentations and articles, trying to decide between radio and print and catching up with everyone I haven't seen for months, I'm feeling very overwhelmed (but in a good way). The decision between print and radio is a big one. I thought I'd go to radio and be a bit "meh" about it cos, let's face it, my heart is and probably always will be in print. But I was pleasantly surprised. Yes, it sucked that the class took place at 9AM on a Friday morning in a room with no windows, not to mention the fact I'd been out the night before celebrating my brother's 18th birthday and was a bit worse for wear, but it was really interesting and I found myself wondering if maybe it is what I want to do after all. I'll have to see how print goes first, of course. But I've a feeling this is going to a much more difficult decision than I'd anticipated.

My final year is already a bit of a headache and I'm feeling SO overwhelmed, but I'm also strangely excited about the work that's to come. That probably sounds a bit weird, but I've always loved my course and that hasn't changed despite the amount of stuff on my shoulders. Being in college is great. I love the atmosphere of the place, even though it's a pretty small building. I get along with practically everybody in my class. There are very few people I have absolutely no time for (and I avoid them completely, so it's grand). Luckily, the bitchiness that characterised the first year or two has pretty much gone. That's not to say that there aren't people who get on everybody's nerves, ask stupid questions, talk about others behind their backs, shoot dirty looks across the classroom or whatever. But those people aren't really being entertained anymore, which is good. We're all growing up, I guess (okay not all of us!).

The fashion in college has been pretty impressive. K and L (the two best-dressed in my class, I believe) look awesome as always, in on-trend sparkles, ankle boots and denim, and vintage with a twist respectively. O has been mixing oversized and tight stuff together to great effect. Saz, of course, has been her usual funky, mod ballerina self. She and I went shopping during a three hour break on Thursday and I got new, grey skinny jeans and a pink Criminal Damage dress (because they've finally opened a shop in Dublin downstairs in Arnotts - I'll never leave!), both of which I LOVE. I still need a winter jacket and some more woollen stuff for winter. I really want a short leather jacket too, but I just can't afford any of that now. I have very little money, but new clothes are difficult to resist. Sometimes I buy em instead of lunch!

I got through Scott Pilgrim volume 5 on the bus in and out this week. It's not a particularly long read, but I was dragging it out because I really didn't want it to end! It was great, albeit kind of sad. The emo has compared me to Ramona (main character's girlfriend) a lot, even though her actions in this book weren't the nicest. I love her, though. I think she's cool and mysterious and really different to most girls, let alone female comic book characters (who usually have big tits and do nothing). She's been broken down by evil ex-boyfriends and she's still dealing with a lot of shit from her past while trying to have a healthy relationship with Scott. I like her a lot. But I like him a lot too, and he reminds me of the emo in his sweet, caring, fun-loving, laidback attitude. I don't know if I can wait till January for the final instalment...

My college playlist, so far, has been quite varied. Since I've been reading newspapers, magazines and, of course, Scott Pilgrim on the bus in, I've just been switching on playlists and playing them through. I've still had lots of Slipknot and Radiohead of course, along with the usual angry shit too. Honourable mentions go to Dead Memories (Slipknot), Party in the USA (live) (Miley Cyrus), What Goes Around (Alesana), My Plague (Slipknot), Strawberry Gashes (Jack Off Jill), Weekend (The Birthday Massacre), Spellbound (Siouxsie and the Banshees), etc, etc... I think I'd die without music. I find it so hard to function without it. I nearly always have music on, songs in my head.. Maybe I'm a bit mental. Oh well.

There has been a lot of discussion about the Lisbon Treaty lately, but I'm not terribly bothered sticking my oar in here because no matter which way one chooses to vote, somebody has a problem with it. So I'm not giving away which way I'm voting. Ha!

Urgh I'm so exhausted.. I was only out once this week, for my brother's 18th which happened to fall on the same day as that Arthur's Day crap. After dinner, he, my father and I ended up in a bar called "Thomas Read's" (near my fave gay bar, which my Dad refused to go to) drinking the night away and watching the bands on a big screen. It turned out to be a pretty good night, despite the fact I was in massive heels, my sister freaked out in Temple Bar because of the broken glass and drunken people everywhere, my Dad bitched about my mother drunkenly and I was up at 6 the next morning. A good night all round. In general.

And now I have to go work on my first presentation of the year, which is auf Deutsch. The games have definitely begun.


Song of the day: Metallica - Seek and Destroy.