Blogging from Wicklow

Yes, that's right, I am currently typing this shit up on the emo's brand new keyboard. In fact, seeing as it was already signed in to his account, I almost posted it on his blog. Wouldn't that have been ridiculously stupid of me?! Funny, though.

I only woke up about twenty minutes ago, despite the fact the emo left me at 8.30AM this morning. My memory is fuzzy, but I seem to remember him telling me he'd turned on the Wii for me so I could play Mario when I woke up...or something along those lines. I did play for a bit, but I've got so far into the game that the levels are becoming near-impossible and so I've given up for now, till he comes home and looks up nerd shit for me about how to beat it.

The house is empty and bright with the sunshine that I can only seem to find out here. I love it so much, it feels so far away from the shit of Dublin city (although I do, obviously, love it there too). Waking up here is great, even when his Mam is around because she gives me tea and compliments my outfit (something my mother rarely does - she usually sighs and says "Lovely" in a very small voice). His parents are away for the week so I've been over here lots, just hanging out, talking shit, fucking, writing (him drawing), playing with his adorable puppy (the only dog I've ever been able to hold)..

It's been a great few days, even despite the oral I had on Tuesday and the fact one of my best friends thought he was about to lose me that same day because of a drunken mistake. Now, if there's one thing I know all about it's mistakes. Especially drunken ones. People don't get an endless supply of chances with me (not anymore, anyway), but at the same time there are certain things that can be more easily forgiven than others. Drunken mistakes, depending on how big, can be forgiven. He was very upset though, rightly so I suppose but it hurt that I was the one causing it.

I went to see Dylan Moran last night, with Scooby, Noodles and Scooby's friend who will remain nameless so that it appears I have a kind of mysterious life when really I don't. He was fucking awesome, one of the best comedians I have ever seen. I tried to think back to when I saw Russell Brand but I couldn't remember if I had laughed more. Dylan Moran was fantastic though, and we were in the third row so we were practically on his lap. Not only was he hilarious, he made a lot of good points about relationships, the difference between men and women, our over-reliance on technology nowadays (he repeatedly asked people in the audience to turn off their cameras/camera phones and simply enjoy). It made me think about stupid fights I've had with significant others, about things I over-reacted to, and others I should've made more of a fuss about. He also made me think about getting older, growing up and accepting things. It was a really positive experience overall, even despite the fact that Scooby sang Green Day songs all the way home!! She's really excited about seeing them. I guess it'll be like her Radiohead (except three gigs in the one week).

While at Dylan Moran, I saw an old friend who I couldn't really say hello to because one of his friends, an ex of mine, is sort of harassing me at the moment. My mother keeps joking that I attract lunatics, because certain men don't seem to be able to let me go. It's strange really, because we don't discuss my personal life very often, but sometimes she can spot something is wrong and that I'm not dealing with as well as I should be.

Anyway, this man is one of those, somebody I dated when I was young who I then tried to have a friendship with despite the fact he always wanted more. I tried for three years after we broke up to be his friend, and yet he always seemed to have something negative to say about me, or some way to fuck me over and make me feel like shit. He ate away at my self esteem during a time I needed it to be high, when I needed support from friends more than ever. So, before I went away, I told him that I couldn't do it anymore. His response was to text and email me ever since, despite the fact I have not replied (save an email from Munich telling him not to contact me - a full five months ago now). It's getting to the stage where I think it's time I changed my number. I'd love to pretend that this will all be over in six months time, but given my experience that would be ridiculously naive.

Maybe my mother is right, maybe I do just attract loonies. Or maybe it's simply that I give people too many chances, or gave rather seeing as experience has taught me never to do that again. Maybe I care too much. Maybe I need to be stronger, I don't know. I'm sick of over-analysing and being made to feel completely heartless for a decision I was forced to make. And I know he's not a bad person, but he needs to grow up and realise that he isn't right about everything, nor is he entitled to everything. I mean, he has a career, a relationship, a house and everything going for him. It's time to move on.

And that is why I couldn't say hello to that person, who I've always loved and thought was awesome. He was wearing a cowboy hat, too, which was just so cool and so...him. It reminds me of a time when he was there for me and made me smile despite the shit I constantly had to go home to. I won't dwell on it though, because shit happens and life isn't always fair.

Man that was depressing.. It really was a fantastic night! I hate how small this city is sometimes, though. Why must we always run into those we don't want to see!?

I'm having dinner with my father tonight, which should be interesting. I'm kind of dreading it, but hopefully my brother will take up most of the conversation going on about his 18th, which is only a couple of weeks away. Shit, that reminds me, the emo's birthday is next weekend and I haven't got his present.. I must look into that...

Time for more Mario!!


Song of the day: The Birthday Massacre - Weekend (I heard this in bed this morning, love this band).