Anyway, on to the final weekend. On Friday, I went to a 21st in Newtownmountkennedy (longest place name in Ireland - what fun trivia), which is a place that needs no introduction because there is nothing there of interest. It was a joint party, thrown by two lads, best friends and stoners of the highest degree. I was quite close with one of them for a while actually, but lately he's considered me not even worth acknowledging, which sucks. I'd ask him about it, but he's not one for talking. Or listening, for that matter. I was dreading seeing him, and to be honest I had no interest in going to his birthday party (I was invited though, funnily enough) and either being ignored or having to endure the ridiculous show he puts on for everyone (I happen to believe I caught a glimpse of the man underneath once upon a time, although given what's happened since then, that may be highly naive of me). Lately, he's been hitting on Star (he knows her through me, and is well aware that we are involved and have been for a long time) and so, I decided to swallow my pride and put up with the bullshit for her sake. The upside was that the party was being held in a swanky four-star hotel (my second in one week!) and we had our own room. It was gorgeous; all white, with a massive double bed and flatscreen TV. It was a fantastic place for pre-drinks (and post-drinks, for that matter).
I was dreading going downstairs and facing all of the people who hated me for no apparent reason (there are lots, and they were all there), so I was glad of the nagin in my stomach by the time I was dragged down. Birthday boy number one was very pleased to see Star, embracing her as if she were the love of his life. He made a face at me, and grudgingly gave me a hug so fake he might as well have commissioned somebody else to do it for him. I wished him a happy birthday and smiled that kind of half-smile/half-sneer I usually give people without meaning to - it seems to come out even when I try to hide my displeasure. He didn't thank me for the text message the day before, his actual birthday, but he mumbled something half-assed that I chose to ignore. He spent the rest of the night cracking onto Star, asking her for a birthday kiss (she declined) and bragging about the size of his hotel suite (she told him ours was just fine). I downed so many vodka and Cokes in the process that I have very little recollection of what I said and did, although I do know I kept my distance from him so as not to cause a scene (although he did deserve a smack, it has to be said).
However, I did manage to make peace with birthday boy number two, who was under the false impression that I had told him to fuck off at some stage. I finally got the chance to clear it up after months of worry, and also thanked him for being sweet to me over the summer, when the other one left me alone in a bar while he hit on random girls. I also addressed a feud between me and a guy I have great respect for, as there has been tension between us recently for reasons I am still unaware of - I went up to him and yelled "WHY DO YOU HATE ME!?" at the top of my intoxicated lungs. He was drunk too, and it's all sorted now. Here's a lovely pic of me and his girlfriend, both off our faces.
Needless to say, Star and I drank the bar dry, and afterwards headed to the residents' bar, in which I got a sickly sense of deja vu and realised I'd been in there stoned off my face one sunny June afternoon. I downed another vodka and Coke after that. I don't even know how we managed to make it back upstairs, but we did, and we also somehow had sex, but in my mind it was quite like the Smack My Bitch Up video - over the covers, lights on, really really fucked up. It was fun though, from what I can remember. She complained the next morning that her housmates were going to be disappointed in her for losing all her dignity. She also complained after I woke her up at ten to get breakfast. I felt like such a junkie that morning, sitting there surrounded by members of both the lads' families, clad in the same outfit from the night before. Did I mention I slept with my make-up on? Bleh. Our room ended up costing double what we'd been told (her punishment for not sleeping with him, I reckon) but it didn't matter in the end. We drove home in her car with the sun shining, shades covering our hungover eyes, and the Arctic Monkeys blasting out of the stereo. A fitting end if ever there was one. And, I suppose, in retrospect, it was a fun night...
After a power nap and a work-out that I still can't understand how I did, I got myself together and stumbled back in the direction of the city. I bought the newest issue of Dubliner magazine for the bus journey to Bray, which turned out to be a mistake because it got me very upset to be leaving Dublin, and before I knew it, I was back in the emo's bedroom, fondly known to me as the crypt. We discussed the night before, and he wasn't too pleased to hear that I'd slept with Star. He'd insisted prior to Friday that I tell him if we ended up fucking, but in the end I think he'd rather not have known. The situation with him is becoming more and more complicated, but there's nothing I can do to make it better because I feel very strongly for both of them, and I'm not ready to give her up yet. Still, I understand where he's coming from. I was actually sad to have to head back home the next day, but my mother was cooking Sunday dinner for me for the last time and had insisted I be there. I was late, having not been able to drag myself out of bed (I also took a leisurely stroll down Grafton Street with a Butler's hot chocolate, just smelling the Dublin air and being nostalgic about the great times I'd had there) and she wasn't pleased with me. She was even less pleased when the emo turned up on her doorstep. Again. I wonder why she hasn't questioned the nature of our relationship yet, but I suppose she just thinks he and I are close the same way Noodles and I are (little does she know...).
Saz and I are going shopping tomorrow, no doubt so that we can have time to freak out and whatnot, and after that I'm seeing Star for dinner and drinks (as per her previous request). Wednesday morning is going to be my last chocday with Noodles (our tradition; basically a day to drink as much hot chocolate as possible while discussing life and all its' randomness) and my last day in work. Thursday is me and Saz's going away party. Friday is my family dinner (to which the emo is being dragged along after I promised my grandmother he would eat something). Saturday...I'm leaving. In the meantime, I have to somehow get my life into a suitcase, see all of my favourite people one last time, clean out my bedroom (taking the majority of my posters down last night was particularly painful), soak up as much of this city as I possibly can, and tie up every loose end imaginable. I don't know how the hell I'm going to do all of this while simultaneously preparing myself to move to a different country for six months...but I'm going to do my very best.
Song of the day: Radiohead - 15 Step.
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