Wednesday, November 25, 2009

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.

Monday, November 16, 2009

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 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).

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

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).

Sunday, November 1, 2009

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.