This shit will fuck you up

The first time I've been properly scared in years

2011-03-14T20:13:00.005+01:00

So, as avid readers (by this I mean my long-suffering mates) will know, I am a massive horror movie fan. I'll watch pretty much anything, I don't scare easily and I have a pretty strong stomach - all of which has been built up over many, many years. However, there are still certain movies from which I stay away. Rob Zombie - awesome musician, fellow horror buff and all-round sexy man - has made a few fucked-up movies that I have absolutely zero interest in seeing again (The Devil's Rejects I have blocked out entirely). I saw his remake of John Carpenter's legendary Halloween one night in a bar and didn't sleep for a few nights straight. I couldn't even hear it, but seeing it on screen was enough.

It was the first time I'd been properly scared in ages, which leads me to the subject of this blog post. I am very ashamed to admit that, prior to last Saturday night, I had never seen the original Halloween. However, I am aware of how important it is in horror movie history, since it not only established the killer's first-person perspective and cemented the idea of the "final girl" but it managed to scare audiences without anything much happening at all. Horror, quite often, is more about what one doesn't see than what one does (it's really obvious I'm reading Mark Kermode's book at the moment, isn't it?).

After Rob Zombie's terrifying, updated version, I was petrified of seeing John Carpenter's original. I thought it would be even worse, given that it was the source material, and Rob Zombie couldn't possibly be that fucked up (no no, he is).

However, I was pleasantly surprised. On with the review!!

Halloween (1978) - John Carpenter.
The film opens in 1963, on Halloween night. Kids are trick-or-treating, horny teens are fumbling about on a couch, being watched through the window by the bizarrely high camera. Within the opening five minutes, a teenage girl is slaughtered by what turns out to be her much younger brother (despite the too-high camera), who is wearing a clown costume and brandishing a giant butcher knife and a totally blank, emotionless expression. There isn't much blood, but there are tits (always welcome in horror movies). So we're off to a good start!

We then skip fifteen years into the future again, where Laurie Strode (Jamie Lee Curtis) is living on the same street, and has to drop a key (her father works for some sort of real estate company) to the "old Myers place" which, it quickly transpires, is sort of the neighbourhood haunted house, where kids dare each other to go and in which nobody lives because of the murder and blah blah blah. She then goes about her business with a plucky young boy and her intentionally vapid, slutty friends. Thus, it is quickly established that she will be the final girl, before anything even happens, because Slutty Mc OpenLegs isn't gonna be, and this isn't Zombie's version so it's not like the kid is going to be in the running (and then brutally slaughtered). Luckily, a lot of things in this film are implied, as opposed to the heavy-handed way in which they are communicated in horror movies nowadays (like BAD! BAD! THIS THING/PERSON/PLACE IS BAD! BE AFRAID! LIKE THE PEOPLE IN THE FILM! ROOT FOR THIS ONE!). One of the most interesting aspects of Halloween is how it compares to horror movies nowadays. For most of its' duration, I found myself on edge, but not really sure why, which is odd considering how bloody and disgusting and visceral the violence is in films today. How can nothing happening be scarier than that!?

After Michael escapes from the mental hospital in which he has been living for the past fifteen years (of course) and has driven off (yes, driven) in a car marked clearly on the side with the hospital's logo (something which is great later on for spotting him stalking in the background), the story switches back to Laurie, who, in stark contrast to her ditzy friends, answers questions in class, offers to babysit despite it being Halloween night, and generally acts like a boring, virginal, prissy chick who, although slightly dull, can stick up for herself and refuses to follow the crowd (thus, the final girl).

The moments when she spots Michael (who, let's be honest, looks like a member of Slipknot in his mask and stolen overalls, but is still frightening nonetheless) get creepier and more tense as the night darkens. It's rare to see the killer during daylight hours in a horror movie, and it's to Carpenter's credit that Michael appears and disappears at will, despite the fact that the sun is still shining and there's every chance he'll be spotted by a wandering passerby (although, of course, the only person who spots him is Laurie, thus cementing her role as the loon who's been studying too much and needs to relax). The tension is stacked up at an almost unbearable pace. Every moment Michael appeared behind Laurie, trailing her and her friend in his car, or just lurking across the street behind a nearby tree, I jumped, or even, at times, squealed like a girl (not a common occurrence for me).

Once the actual killing begins (and there isn't really much of it, either) it's almost a relief. Is Michael in the car? Yes. Is he hiding in the coat closet while that dude gets a post-sex beer? Yes. Is he going to pretend to be that man, using his glasses and a sheet, so he can see some tits and then murder the dumb blonde girlfriend? Oh yes. Jamie Lee Curtis excels as the terrified babysitter who has to choose between keeping the kids she's looking after calm, and freaking out that her best friends may be in trouble just across the street. To her credit, she does manage to fight Michael off quite a bit (with a knitting needle and a hanger, no less!), as opposed to the usual running-away-screaming-half-naked schlock to which we're usually subjected. The scene when she's trapped in the wardrobe had me squirming and clasping my hand over my mouth so hard I almost choked myself.

Put simply, I was TERRIFIED, which I haven't been in a very long time.

The beauty of Carpenter's Halloween is that nothing much has to happen for the audience to feel threatened, on edge, and completely terrified. One just has to hear that music and see Michael standing behind a bush to know that people are in danger and bad shit is going to go down. Most of the movie consists of Michael just turning up or stalking Laurie, not really doing much besides breathing heavily into his mask (much like Corey Taylor, har de har) while the amazingly creepy score plods alongside him. He isn't even that big, which means that, unlike in Zombie's version (in which the massive Tyler Mane plays Michael), it's somewhat believable that people wouldn't look twice if they say him on the street, because perhaps they would just assume that he was some lad having a laugh, in a mask, for Halloween.

There isn't much blood, and the kills, although vicious, are nothing compared to Zombie's (okay, okay, so subtlety has never really been his thing). So then, why did this film scare the shit out of me? A lot of it has to do with my fear of Michael Myers as a character...there is something so frightening about somebody who just kills for no reason... But a lot of it also has to do with the pace of the film (it's just over an hour and a half long, after all) and the dreaded tension that is built up throughout. It's a potent mix, the intelligence and skill of which has surely been lost on the creators of such torture-porn atrocities as Saw, Hostel, et al. (no, those films are not frightening, despite what you have heard).

My favourite modern-day horror movie, All The Boys Love Mandy Lane, owes a lot to Halloween. After all, the killer is revealed early on, the kills, while inventive, are quick and reasonably bloodless. Most of the establishing shots are from the first-person perspective of the killer, and he is shown covered in blood, lurking outside the window, which is only noticed by, you've guessed it, the dumb blonde, who, of course, nobody believes. The same can be said of the Scream franchise, which establishes a killer, in a mask, with a big knife, and then goes from there.

Put simply, Halloween kicks some serious ass. It's scary, it's brave, it got under my skin, and I'll forever be looking over my shoulder at passing cars as I walk down my street towards home. Oh, and the ending truly made me shudder...for several hours...

Pathetically late first post (or second, really)

2011-03-08T14:18:00.003+01:00

How sad is it that the only time I can find to write on here is during my lunch break from work!? Whatever, it's time to bring this blog back from almost-death......so! Now, for some firsts of 2011!!!

First movie - 127 Hours.
Being a fan of horror and having a pretty strong stomach for gore, I was dying to see this movie, in which James Franco infamously cuts off his own arm, as the climber Aron Ralston did in real life after being trapped in a cave for five days. I'm sad to report back that there wasn't quite enough arm-slicing for my liking (I would've liked a more lingering shot as he cut his tendons, for example) but regardless the film was a bloody masterpiece (no pun intended). Franco put in a cracking performance, to which he was rightly nominated for an Oscar, and Danny Boyle, as always, did a fantastic study of the human condition without it ever bordering on being too Hollywood or over-the-top. Put simply, it was fantastic, and a great way to start off what will hopefully be a fantastic year for movies.

First CD purchase (downloads don't count, I am old-fashioned when it comes to music) - Dark Days: The True Lives of The Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance.
I bought two CDs at once, but the other turned out to be a two-disc DVD extravaganza, not a CD, (Sicnesses by Slipknot, in case anybody is interested). I purchased the newest MCR album because I got my little sister tickets to go see them for her birthday, and wanted to know at least some of the new songs so that I wouldn't be totally bored. Happily enough, despite its' pretentious title and the accompanying videos detailing the adventures of non-superheroes dressed in bright colours and stupid masks, Danger Days is a nice little album. The songs are upbeat, catchy and interesting, the riffs are clever and the underlying message is less heavy-handed and melancholy than their previous offering, The Black Parade. I'm not exactly a fan of MCR, but I don't hate them either. I saw them a few years ago and they played a pretty decent set, despite being bottled the entire time. They're the kind of band that I'd stick on every now and again, but in whom I'm not particularly invested. However, Danger Days really caught me by surprise and I'm happy to report that I'm still listening to it, weeks later.

First gig - My Chemical Romance, The O2.
As I've already mentioned, I got my little sis a ticket to this gig for her birthday (although it was a month beforehand). I tucked it into an incredibly naff Twilight card, sat back, and watched her freak out. We headed off fairly late (about 7) but still got reasonably close to the stage. The new layout of the O2 is great, because there's usually no pit (or at least I haven't seen one yet), which means getting much closer to the bands than I ever did when I was 15, or even 18. Anyway, the support bands were shit, that goes without saying. The Blackout looked like an ad for Topman, and played the kind of monotonous, unoriginal, whiny songs that teenagers looove to sing along to because...well, what's more fun than that at 15? But yeah, they sucked! Then, about a half hour before MCR took the stage, a load of photos flashed up on the screens on either side of us of the "fabulous Killjoys", in which I had absolutely no interest. Then, the lights dimmed, and on the sound system came the "Look alive, sunshine" opening (voiced by Steve Righ? of one of my favourite bands, Mindless Self Indulgence) which, I have to admit, gave me goosebumps. Gerard Way and co stormed through the awesome Na Na Na Na Na Na (I defy you not to jump around to this) as an incredible opening number, and what followed was a set that made me feel like I was 15 again, in the best possible way. Not only were they tight (much tighter than I remembered them being), but they chose their set perfectly - it was the best possible mix of old, new and Black Parade. I was particularly impressed with the addition of House Of Wolves, one of my favourite MCR songs, that I didn't expect at all because it was never a single. By the encore of Cancer and Vampires Will Never Hurt You (a brave choice, from their very first album) we were bruised and elated. My sister was thrilled with the show, and so was I. Let's see if The Blackout can do something similar in ten years time...

First piercing - lobe stretch, stage one.
This doesn't really count as a piercing, but I started the process of stretching my lobes, which sort of counts... It hurt more than I thought and it's gonna take months before they're the size I want them, but I don't mind, because it's all in good fun! And it only cost a tenner!

First tattoo - Lenore on my upper right arm.
I decided what better way to start my sleeve (I'm only planning on doing one, but we'll see how that goes) than with a piece of artwork by the unbelievably amazing Roman Dirge, whose comics I've loved since I was about 13! Luckily, Dirge himself is very heavily tattooed, so he supplies what he refers to as "dope ass tattoo flash" with lots of the Lenore comics. I chose my favourite (one of many, I'm sure) made it bigger, and that was that. My tattoo artist, loon that he is, loved it, and scheduled me in to get it done on my 23rd birthday. Unfortunately, after three hours in the chair, he realised it was going to take more than one sitting to finish. And, what had begun as three hours quickly became eight. Luckily, he gave me a massive discount and I didn't particularly mind the pain or annoyance because he's amazing and really good fun to be around and it looks incredible now that it's finished! It's full colour, very unusual and totally beautiful. I'll be getting it topped up in the summer, and I'll probably get lots more in the meantime, but for now this is probably my favourite tattoo yet! (I'd post a pic, but I think that's kind of naff).

First book - My Booky Wook 2 - Russell Brand.
I love Russell Brand, and his first autobiography had me laughing and crying like a sap. The second installment has a different tone, and I felt a bit ill when he wrote about how much he loves Katy Perry (besides the boobs, what more is there to her?) but overall it was an interesting, funny read, and really it just made me love him anymore. I got very into reading biographies last year, and it's definitely carried on into this year. I'm midway through Mark Kermode's at the moment and I'm loving it!

I can't think of any more firsts (no interesting ones, anyway) so I guess I'll leave it at that for now. I will make more time to blog, in an effort to keep some sort of record of what my life was really like in my 20s. Otherwise, I'm going to have a hard time writing my autobiography...

Song of the day: Placebo - Battle For The Sun.

Currently reading: It's only a movie - Mark Kermode. I love this man, and his book is just like him - smart, funny, silly and riveting.
Currently listening to: Fixed At Zero - Versaemerge. I love love love this band. I may even be flying to Leeds to see them in May because I can't bear to wait any longer!
Currently wearing: Lots and lots of DropDead stuff, cos it's amazing. In work, I'm keeping it classy with a rock 'n' roll twist. In my private life, I'm going all out because there's less and less time in which to do so now!!
Currently feasting my eyes on: Pretty much anything to do with Berlin, because I'm heading there after Rock im Park this summer. Also whatever Pokemon game I have for the DS!

Oops...

2011-02-18T13:34:00.003+01:00

I really should've found time to blog before this. I'm so fucking lazy, it's unbelievable! I want to do a big, long post about some of my firsts of 2011, such as gig, film, CD, tatt, etc. But it'll take me a while to do and sadly now is not the time!

This may just be my shortest blog post ever...because I really don't have the time to be on here but I needed to get the ball rolling for the new year or else I never would.

Before I go, so far, 2011 is kicking some serious ass.

And here's a cool photo that's keeping me nicely distracted in work!

Currently listening to: Lots and lots of Versaemerge.
Currently reading: Just finished Moonlight Mile by possibly my favourite author (besides Bram Stoker), Dennis Lehane. Everything he writes is genius. Everything.
Currently feasting my eyes on: Pretty much anything DropDead....I'm seriously addicted. My wages are spent mostly on their site.
Currently excited for: Getting my tatt finished later on this afternoon!!

More "Best of 2010" shit

2010-12-28T17:16:00.021+01:00

Before I get started on what is probably going to be a long post, I want to share what I've spent the majority of today doing....

After getting Lauren Conrad's book Style for Christmas, and falling madly in love with it, I decided to clean out my room, move some shit around, and, of course, clear out my overflowing wardrobe. As most people know, I'm not a girly girl. I'm not into shopping or anything, I only just started learning shit about make-up this year, and most of the time I wouldn't be considered glamorous. But I love fashion, and I love clothes, and I've spent years experimenting and taking ridiculous chances, to ultimately create my very own style.

What is that style? I'm not quite sure. I've decided that I get a lot of style influences from Kat von D, Kristen Stewart, Chibi and, of course, Hayley Williams. But other than that, the only way I'd really describe my style is tomboyish, kinda grungy and never too fussy or over put together (in work, it's totally different!).

But since Lauren suggested cleaning out the wardrobe, in order to have a better understanding of what one has, doesn't have and needs, I did exactly that. I was very impressed to discover that I had everything on her "wardrobe staples" lists, although her variations were a lot more conservative than mine. Here are the awe-inspiring before and after shots. This took me three hours to sort out, bearing in mind that a lot of my clothes were not in my wardrobe.

Prepare to be amazed!

Before...

...After!!

I am so proud! I have everything divided up according to colour and style, all of my reconstructed tees together, basics, trousers, shorts, skirts, dresses, jackets, shirts...this makes me very excited, which I guess is kinda girly, but no matter. I am proud. I don't know how long this is going to last, but for the moment it's awesome to have everything in order. My head feels much clearer as a result. The rest of my room looks good too, in case you're wondering.

Anyway! Christmas was just a couple of days ago, but I don't really want to blab on about it for this post, although it was pretty good this year. The mental weather kind of fucked everything up, but besides that it was pretty awesome. Got some cool shit (new Docs!!!), spent some quality time with the family, ate lots, drank lots, watched Edward Scissorhands and cried like a baby... The emo got me the most incredible present I've ever got - three pencil drawings by Aaron Alexovich (one of my favourite artists) of Kat, Hayley and Chibi, my three idols, in frames decorated with stars in a colour that related to each chick, and Nightmare Before Christmas stickers. They're amazing! He totally showed me up!!!

Okay enough bullshit, it's time to get on to the best and worst of 2010 (the worst list, just like last year, will be small). I hope I don't forget anything...but if I do, it doesn't mean that it wasn't awesome, it just means I've a fucking terrible memory!

Let me just say, though, before I begin, that 2010 was a fucking deadly year, and thank you very much to everybody who made it so!

Finishing college
I'll be honest, by the end
of my four year course, despite how much I still loved what I was doing, I was fucking sick of it... I was sick of the work, the stupid fucking egomaniacs I was forced into working with and, at times, taking orders from, and I was just fucking bored overall. The recession was in full swing, and I was terrified that, after choosing to be part of an industry that was creative and didn't guarantee a paid job directly after college (or ever), I would end up broke, on the dole, and suicidal. I was dying to get out into the world and start living by my rules, actually having a life in Dublin (if that is actually possible) and making some fucking money. Graduation itself was pretty boring, and the ball was fairly meh too, but whatever. I graduated without my hat on, which meant I was treated like a bad ass once again without actually doing anything of note (seriously, I'm rarely trying to make a statement, I just do things without thinking). Oh, and I had a pretty awesome dress for the ball too! And a giant spider ring!! All's well that ends well, I guess.

The gigs
I didn't go to that many gigs this year, surprisingly. But I did see the Rocky Horror Show live, which was fucking amazing. I also saw WWE Raw live...that was pretty fucking cool. But, asides from those, I did get to see two of my favourite bands, Lostprophets, and Paramore too. And I saw one of my favourite comedians, Bill Bailey, which was incredible. I feel as if I'm forgetting a few, because I couldn't honestly have just seen two fucking bands this year...but I guess maybe I did. The Lostprophets gig was a special one, because it was my sister's first ever rock gig. And because they were awesome. Ian Watkins is still one of my favourite frontmen, and after seeing the Prophets perform with exactly as much enthusiasm in front of a festival crowd and the paltry amount assembled in the Academy, I know that I'm going to love them forever. Paramore was special for obvious reasons!! I mean, we queued for 8 hours, stayed in a luxurious hotel, got so close to Hayley we could almost smell her...and the gig itself kicked major ass! I still get the same rush going to gigs as I did when I was a little fifteen-year-old grunge kid, which is kick ass. And 2011 is already looking great for gigs, with Rob Zombie and Rock im Park in June, and possibly Slipknot later in the summer.

The people
I'm incredibly lucky with the people that I have in my life, and that was especially apparent this year. At 22, I'm lucky to have several best friends, whom I know and love and trust with my life. They are there for me when I need them (and vice versa), call me out when I'm behaving like a twat, make me laugh, make me cry, keep things exciting, and impress me every day with how creative, artistic, intelligent, talented, beautiful and wonderful they all are. They are all different and strange in their own ways, which means we rarely all become obsessed with the same band or want to see the same film or do the same thing. Thank fuck, otherwise it'd get totally boring! I've learned, especially over the last few years, that it's better to be surrounded by people with their own voices, than sheep who would rather say nothing and keep the peace. Scooby is a MASSIVE Green Day fan, and by the logic of most crazed fans, she and I shouldn't really be buds because I love Paramore, sworn enemies of GD (according to fans, they're not actually enemies). But I believe Scoob and I have more fun comparing and contrasting our opposing bands, as opposed to if we both queued for GD shows together and then discussed it afterwards! Of course, I'm a bit too old to be making new friends at this stage of my life (har de har) so it only makes sense that I adore the ones I've got! However, I did sort of make a few new friends this year, or more correctly, I got closer to a couple of people who were already in my life, i.e. Rich and Ally, who are possibly the coolest couple I know. We'd never really got that much time to chat and get to know each other, not to mention the fact that one of their closest friends fucking hates me, but between the end of last year, and this year, we really got on the same page and that was fucking awesome.

The other new friend I made was a totally new friend, made through the rather shit means of Facebook and mutual friends (I can't remember the exact reason we got talking, but it wasn't a very good one!). We bonded over shared love of stupid emo shit like Lenore and Tim Burton, piercings, tatts and people generally thinking the two of us are dirty whores. It's been fun! I always feel like the weirdest one out of my group of friends, because let's face it, I do look and act the weirdest. But new mate made me feel positively normal! In the short space of time we've known each other (less than a year, I believe) I've vomited in front of this dude twice, been unashamedly drunk (while he was almost ridiculously sober, patient and pleasant), passed out on his sofa and been unable to get up for the following twelve hours, relentlessly made fun of him (and vice versa), been literally picked up off my feet by him, been given shitloads of drink and food and bizarrely perfect insights into life and love and what the fuck we're all really doing here... I think that I would be him if I were male, especially since he is far more feminine than I. Whether we are actual friends or just acquaintances remains to be seen, because sadly we're still kind of in that limbo area where it's unclear whether we can just call each other up or get angry or whatever. I still have some serious trust issues, too, so I'm reluctant to get close to anyone and get hurt...but I will forever be grateful to him for pretending he hadn't heard me puke when he obviously had, feeding me and taking care of me when he really didn't have to, and, of course, giving me his hoodie to hide the fact that I was in work in the same dress as the day before. Whatever fucking happens, he made 2010 memorable, to say the least! Oh, and Noodles is totally in love with him, which makes it even better! I'd stick in a photo of them snuggling up to each other the first time they ever met...but I won't, because the mental image is probably better.

The tatts
This year, I got tattooed on my birthday, as has become customary over the past couple of years (the word "Liebe" on my right wrist), which was awesome, but the really awesome tattooing experience of this year was, of course the four-hour marathon session that resulted in the most beautiful, full-colour tattoo on my lower right leg of the dreamiest dream girl of all time, Ramona Flowers. The emo has since been back to my tattoo artist to get his arm inked, and took great pleasure in being told all about how me and Scooby wouldn't shut up during the time he'd tattooed me. I love my tattoo artist. He is very sexy and incredibly talented, not to mention totally mental. I'm already planning when I can head into him for my first tattoo of 2011 (once he returns, because of course, he isn't Irish). Being under his needle is a mind-blowing experience (and yes, I know how bad that sounds). I got pierced this year too, of course, but being tattooed, I must admit, is a far more exciting and fulfilling experience...probably cos it lasts longer and hurts an almost unbelievable amount! I can't wait for more in 2011... Here is me, slightly drunk and dressed like a lolita sailor chick, showing off my tatt without showing off my undies (somehow). Although this is kind of a shit photo, I still think my tatt looks awesome in it. I don't even really remember the pain! Ooh now I'm itching for a new one...should continue on with this list and distract myself!!

The job
I've written at length about how happy I am to be working, how lucky to have found a job, blah blah blah, so I won't bore anyone any further with it here. But I am loving what I'm doing, not to mention that it's pretty fucking awesome to finally have a life in stupid Dublin. Now I'm finally working towards getting the hell out of here, and that in itself is amazing. So if there is one thing that I am thankful for this year, it is definitely my job. I really cannot stress that enough!

Awesome nights out
One of the best things about having a job, thus making money, means that I can do more stuff than I could do dream of doing before, from weekends in London, to nights out in bars that makes this city seem less shit. That has resulted in some of the maddest, filthiest, roughest and coolest nights out than ever before. I finally found a clubbing buddy in Noodles, and we've had some of the best times out dancing to silly pop music and drinking cocktails. I do quite like clubbing every now and again, although clubbing folk usually think I'm quite kinky because of how I look and/or how I'm dressed... Of course, we still frequent our favourite rock bar, and get fucked up there on a regular basis because, let's face it, nobody cares. And we found some cool new places to go as well, which has been fucking awesome. We haven't been going out every night or anything, but when we do go out, it kicks major ass, whether there are two of us, or twenty. And, surprisingly enough, we've managed to find a balance between having fun sober and drunk! The Zombie Walk was another awesome experience, even though it cost nothing!! It was so much fun, and so silly. I got a lot of shit from my mother for turning up covered in blood to a family dinner afterwards, but it was totally worth it!!!

My totally awesome relationship
At the risk of sounding totally mushy, it's been a great year for the emo and I. We celebrated a year together on Halloween, managed to still see each other as often as possible despite how crazy busy we both are, and we've become even closer than we were before (if that's actually possible). He is my best friend and the one person I trust most in the world. He was there for me when other people let me down, even queueing for four hours in the freezing cold with me to meet Kat von D, and watching silly horror movies with me despite the fact he doesn't particularly appreciate the genre. We give each other shit all the time, we are totally ourselves around each other, and we love each other more and more every day. He showed me with his Christmas present that he knows me better than I probably know myself, and I cannot imagine my life without him. He can be a total shit at times, of course, but even when we argue it doesn't last long, because we know each other so well that after a bit we just give up and get over ourselves!!! It's amazing to be in a healthy relationship with no pretenses and no bullshit. It's very new for me, I must admit!!

My new hair colour
After three years of wrecking my hair with bleach, which resulted in me having to cut it all off towards the end of last year, I decided to take action and, in January, dyed it a deep, permanent black-black. I say "black-black" because everybody else I know with black hair uses "blue-black" and I feel as if perhaps I'm the only person in the whole city dying it black-black (which makes it even more infuriating that Boots always seems to be out of the stuff!). Anyway, it's not a hugely significant life-changing thing...except that it kind of is, because it has totally changed my face and makes me look and feel soooo much better! I love being dark, it suits my personality so much more than the blonde did, even though it isn't as extreme. Ever since I was 14, I've been changing my hair on a regular basis, and the only colour I ever stuck with was white blonde. Now, I think I may stick with black-black for a while which, madly enough, is a serious deal to me!! Oh, and my hair actually looks and feels like hair now, which is pretty fucking cool, because I didn't ever think I'd get there!

Honourable mentions
- Meeting Kat von D was fucking amazing, but since I've already devoted a whole post to that, I'll just stick it in here at the end! It was awesome! I still get goosebumps thinking about it!
- There were some awesome movies out this year, and it was a decent year for horror too, which was cool. Again, already dedicated a post to that.
- My trip to London, with Saz, in September was really, really good fun. It's become sort of an annual thing now, to go to London (or, more specifically, Camden) and shop till I drop. I've already made plans to go again in the new year. It gets better every time. And this year, we got to see Charley too!
- System Of A Down were announced as the headliners for next year's RIP. This made my whole fucking year, because I didn't think I'd ever get to see them live!!

Best Of 2010
- Album: Either Pins and Needles - The Birthday Massacre or Diamond Eyes - Deftones. Both of these albums, in my opinion, were ground-breaking. TBM and Deftones have been two of my favourite bands for a long time now, and both never cease to surprise me. These are my two favourite albums of 2010 because I love every single track on both, loved both instantly, was intrigued and delighted by the quality, direction and feel of both. These are albums that will definitely stand the test of time, for sure.
- Book: I read lots and lots of Dennis Lehane this year, but I can't recall if any of the books I read were published this year, likewise those by Daniel Waters. I loved both of Kevin Smith and Kat von D's books, but if I had to choose the best novel I've read this year (I don't think it came out this year, but oh well) it'd be Generation Dead by Daniel Waters, because not only was the protagonist a goth, but the story refrained from being Twilight-esque syrupy bullshit, and actually asked some real questions about the dynamics of society and how teenage friendships and relationships function.
- Movie: Already did this! Either Inception or Toy Story 3. For horror, definitely Frozen.
- Gig: Paramore in the O2. Nuff said!
- Comic book: I love love love Scott Pilgrim, but this year I re-discoverd Aaron Alexovich's Serenity Rose and Roman Dirge's classic Lenore. What can I say? I'm a sucker for goth comics!
- Song: Possibly Shallow Grave by TBM or Rocket Skates by Deftones... My clubbing song was definitely Club Can't Handle Me by Flo Rida, while my song to rock out to was Oildale by Korn.
- Guilty Pleasure: 30 Seconds To Mars! Jared Leto's vanity project are totally over the top and silly, but I must admit, I do love a few of their songs! And he's so pretty to look at!!
- New obsession: Gossip Girl recaps on New York magazine's website. Too fucking funny. Mega64 are my new old obsession, because they are that good!
- Hottest chick: Kristen Stewart. She didn't wear a bra for the duration of The Runaways, I still have yet to recover from it! And she is gay, no matter what anyone says. She is.
- Hottest dude: The gorgeous Jared Leto, any of the Mega64 guys, CM Punk (om nom nom), Robert Sheehan...there were a lot of hot dudes this year, it's difficult to decide!
- Fashion icon: Hayley, Kat, Kristen. They inspire me with their rock 'n' roll attitude, grungy sensibilities and refusal to dress pretty or girly unless they absolutely have to!
- Accessory of the year: Probably my big, silver cross that I got for my grad. Or my trusty Cons.
- Biggest achievements: Finding a job, doing it, fitting in in an office environment, finishing college, keeping my relationship going, liking who I am...etc!

The Lows
Thankfully, there were very few low points this year. I didn't have many low points personally at all, asides from a few run-ins with stupid girls, threats from jealous, insecure girlfriends and the fear of my new job and new people to fit in with. Overall, this year has been a damn good one. The state of the country is not something that I particularly feel like writing about here, not because it doesn't concern me, but due to the fact that I gave up on this place a long time ago and am simply working now to get the hell out of here. Ireland sucks. End of.

The two biggest low points of this year were probably the deaths in the metal world, and the weird non-break-up of Paramore. First, the passing of Pete Steele, Ronnie James Dio and, of course, Paul Gray, were incredibly upsetting and left the metal world shocked and reeling for months afterwards. I've loved Type O Negative since I was a little goth kid, so Pete dying was dreadful. Dio's songs with Sabbath and solo are the soundtrack to my favourite rock bar, so every time I hear them my heart hurts. And, of course, Paul Gray dying means the end of one of my all-time favourite bands. I still can't watch the Slipknot press conference, because it makes me cry to this day. And seeing Corey Taylor struggling through Bother at DL last summer was truly heart-breaking. We lost some amazing men this year, and they will never be forgotten.

The other downer this year happened just last week. I've written at length about it, so I won't repeat myself here. I am very upset that Josh and Zac Farro have left Paramore, thus changing the band forever, and I am even more disheartened by Josh's attack on Hayley in the media. However, this simply ushers in a new era for the band, one which I am really looking forward to, and I have no doubt in my mind that the band will go from strength to strength.

So...that's it for 2010!! It's been a fucking awesome year...can't wait for the next one! Bring on 2011!!!!!

Ignorance is your new best friend

2010-12-22T23:37:00.002+01:00

I couldn't let this week go by without weighing in on the current debate raging about the demise/reboot of Paramore. In case anybody reading this (all two of you) isn't aware, Josh and Zac Farro, the lead guitarist and drummer of Paramore respectively, decided to leave the band this week. The remaining members, Hayley, Jeremy and Taylor, issued a statement via the band's website, citing issues such as the brothers missing their families, changing relationships and a demanding tour schedule for their departure, and promised to move forward as a band. Hayley's old catchphrase "Paramore is a band" morphed easily into "Paramore is still a band". It seemed fair enough. Things change, they were growing apart, whatever.

And then, the plot thickened. A blog, purporting to have been written by the Farro brothers, appeared, and detailed, in all its' horrible glory, the slow demise of the band over their seven year career, from feuds to Hayley being the main focus, to her solo career, to her crazy, domineering parents, to a record company conspiracy. It made for incredibly difficult reading, and I, along with legions of die-hard fans, secretly prayed that it was fake. And then Josh released a video on his youtube account, assuring us all that the blog was real, and furthermore, although he knew it upset some of us "there's nothing I can do about that".

Now, a lot of fans (mainly crazy, religious, teenage chicks) freaked out, swearing they'd never listen to Paramore again, how they hated Hayley and that we'd all been tricked into believing a lie and a clear marketing ploy.

This is one of those moments when I am so very glad that I am in my twenties, and thus able to take a step back from such unfortunate events and gather my thoughts before making emotionally-charged, rash decisions. I've loved this band for years, I queued up for seven hours in the rain and freezing cold to see them, I'm not giving up on them any time soon - at least, not until they give up.

Firstly, let me just say that Hayley Williams is one of my role models. I don't know her personally, obviously, but I doubt that she could fake her public appearance so much so that I'd be fooled into believing she's just like me. I admire strong, independent, confident women, who are who they are without feeling the need to constantly defend and explain themselves. Watching candids of her with the guys, remembering how she used to refuse to wear make-up for photoshoots, reading her blog - it's abundantly clear that not only is she truly herself at all times, but she loves those boys, the band and her career. Claiming that she is some selfish, evil dictator, or the puppet of a strictly-monitored marketing ploy on the part of the record company is just plain stupid. And the fact that Josh, not only her best friend but boyfriend of three years, would imply such things in a blog and publish it for the whole world to see says much more about him than it does her.

I'm interested to hear what she has to say in response, but I wouldn't be surprised if she said nothing. Hayley has stated herself in recent interviews that she is who she is with no apologies, and she has nothing to prove anymore. I feel the same way, and it's after years of people putting me down and saying the worst possible things about me.

Furthermore, if Hayley wanted to be a solo artist, she could be. She is extremely talented, driven, well-accomplished, and has a massive following. The fact of the matter is, she doesn't need Paramore. She chooses to be part of the band because she loves it, because it is her passion, and because that is who she is. This is evident from her lyrics, live performances, and in interviews and candid footage. Look at Gwen Stefani, it hasn't taken her long to morph into a popstar clone. Nobody can hide their true self forever, so if Hayley really does only have her own best interests at heart (which I sincerely doubt) then it will become clear before long.

Josh and Zac mention in the blog that they were offended by some of Hayley's lyrics for Brand New Eyes. If this is true, then why did Josh, who writes the majority of the music, agree to do so around her words? It's common knowledge that the album is about the difficulties within the band, and the fact that they almost broke up during the writing process. This is evident from the lyrics to most of the tracks, especially Playing God and Ignorance. I find it very difficult to believe that two people, who were so offended and so hurt by what Hayley had written, would still agree to play along, and force themselves to act like they were having a good time playing songs live when they felt belittled them. Why the hell would they bother!?

A lot of the shit that's come out doesn't make sense to me. Furthermore, as somebody who is the same age as those in Paramore, it comes as a huge shock to me that the Farro brothers would act out in this way, regardless of how hurt or betrayed they may be feeling. It's tacky and immature, not to mention that they come across like spoilt, bratty children who are ungrateful for their extremely good fortune. Let's not forget that these men are extremely wealthy, and have enjoyed massive popularity, especially over the past few years. Whether they left on bad terms or not, what happened should've stayed within the confines of the group.

I'm not one to bury my head in the sand. I realise that I don't know any of these people personally. I also know that people change as they grow up, and since Paramore have been together since they were 16/17, it was inevitable that they were going to run into problems as they got more famous and entered their twenties. Being in a band, touring, being away from one's family, being stuck with the same people all the time - it can't be easy. Being young and wealthy and famous doesn't make it any less complicated. But the Farro brothers leaving Paramore should not be blamed entirely on one member of the group, especially not because they simply couldn't handle that Hayley was the main focus.

After all, in most bands, the lead singer is the focus. It's just how things go. But that doesn't mean the other members are less important, nor does it mean that they should lash out at the person in the forefront, or simply pack up and leave. Hayley has always maintained that Paramore is a band, even refusing to do magazine covers solo up until this year. It keeps coming back to me - why would she bother with any of that if she wanted to be a solo artist? Why not just steal the spotlight and keep it until she could launch herself on her own? It wouldn't have been difficult, especially since she was offered a solo contract early on (which she flatly refused).

Anyway, whatever happens, Paramore will always be one of my favourite bands. They make great music, put on a fantastic live show, and come across as fantastically down to earth and fun in interviews. I love that they're my age, and that they behave the way me and my mates would if we were lucky enough to be in their position. It's terrible that it has come to this, but shit happens.

Whatever the Farro brothers are playing at, I hope it goes well for them. I can't wait to see what Hayley, Jeremy and Taylor come up with next, because I know it's going to be fucking awesome!!

And so, the "Best of 2010" lists begin!

2010-12-12T21:29:00.002+01:00

So, my boy Rich, film buff and all-round awesome dude, just did his best of 2010 movie list, and so I've been inspired to do mine. Please bear in mind that I'm not a film buff whatsoever. I'm a total film nut, especially when it comes to horror movies, and I've written quite a few reviews in my time, but I'm not exactly Mark Kermode. Although I do love him very, very much.

So, I am by no means an expert. I like what I like and sometimes I like what everybody else hates, so...well, take it as you will.

So! My top ten movies of 2010 are as follows (if spoilers slip in, I'm sorry):

10. A Nightmare On Elm Street
First, let it be known that I am a HUGE Freddy Krueger fan, and the Nightmare On Elm Street movies are some of my favourites of all time, as far as horror goes, and just movies in general. I was pissed Robert Englund wasn't reprising his role as Freddy, who is probably my favourite villain of all time, but of course, he's a very old man at this stage and I guess they wanted to revamp the series somewhat, which is fine. I love Jackie Earle Haley, and he was the perfect choice for the new Freddy. Some of his one-liners in this new version are hilarious, and he genuinely scared me a few times. Of course, the fact that the whole "did he really do it" storyline is thrown in is a bit stupid if one has already seen the originals. However, the tone of this revamp is spooky and eerie and there are genuinely a few frights. The whole supernatural edge is dealt with very well, without the usual cringey effects. I'm not usually scared by such things, but I genuinely was in A Nightmare On Elm Street. Plus, seeing the big, dumb vampire from the woeful Twilight movies kill himself within the first few moments was fucking AWESOME. This was no way near as good as the original, but it was pretty damn good. And it was also both fun and funny, two elements that I consider to be very important in any horror movie.

9. Piranha 3D
I only saw this yesterday, but it makes it into the top ten because it was so much fun, so silly, so gory, and had all of the key elements of a classic, B-movie, monster-horror movie. I love anything to do with scary things in the water - Jaws, Lake Placid and Deep Blue Sea being three of my favourite horror films of all time. And I love watching stupid people get mercilessly killed. And I love boobies. And I love Christopher Llyod. So, really, Piranha 3D was my perfect movie! I'd read up about it in Total Film prior to seeing it, so I was already a bit geeky about how much fake blood was used, and how certain things were shot. Visually, it's a dream. The location is sun-drenched, the water is crystal clear, and there are some seriously hot bodies on show. In fact, the only real problem with this movie visually, is the terrible CGI job done on the piranhas. Luckily, the acting is fairly good, hammy in places and serious in others, and it's easy to suspend one's disbelief and really believe in the danger posed by the vicious fishies, even if they do look totally shit. Christopher Lloyd is awesomely hammy, and has a lot of fun with his role. The only real downer was when Jessica Szohr, the chick who annoys the hell out of me every week on Gossip Girl, didn't get chomped to bits in the end.

8. Splice
I'll admit, I'm not a big sci-fi fan. And, although I have quite a strong stomach, shit that has to do with biological experimentation or anything of the sort makes me feel slightly ill. Even so, I was excited to see Splice. I love a bit of Adrien Brody and I was intrigued by the much talked about, semi-sexual tone. Luckily, I wasn't disappointed. Splice isn't horror, nor is it sci-fi. It's a thriller and a drama, a study of human nature and a study of a crumbling relationship, and it asks difficult questions about how far one would go for one's career, and how intelligent people can act really, really stupid. Moving, shocking and very, very strange, Splice was a nice surprise that gave me hope that I may, one day, like the sci-fi genre.

7. Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallowes part 1
I'm a massive Harry Potter nerd, and I'm delighted that the movie adaptations have got better as the years have gone by. I feel as if I've grown up with the kids, and their acting has got so much better that it's almost hard to believe that they're the same people. The seventh instalment was equal parts terrifying, heart-wrenching, hilarious and thrilling. I laughed, cried, gasped, hid behind my hands - even though I already knew the story well. It is by no means a perfect film, but it was a near-perfect adaptation and it did not disappoint me. A lot of people felt it lagged in the middle, but I didn't notice the long-ass running time, nor did I think any of it was unnecessary. The setpieces were beautiful too. I'll no doubt be seeing it again on Christmas eve, as is tradition, and I can't wait!

6. Shutter Island
Another fantastic adaptation! Denis Lehane is one of my favourite authors, and the other, Ben Affleck-directed adaptation of his novel Gone Baby Gone was fantastic, so I had high hopes for this one, even though the story itself is complicated, and didn't seem like it would translate well to the big screen. Luckily, it did. Leonardo di Caprio and Mark Ruffalo shone as the two leads, and the setting was suitably eerie, complemented perfectly by a booming, foreboding soundtrack. It was another near-perfect adaptation. The only real problem I have with it, and it's a tiny one at that, is the added-in bit at the end, which seemed to only be stuck in there so as not to confuse otherwise stupid viewers. I didn't really feel like it was necessary. But otherwise, the layered, creepy, strange story was perfectly told on screen and the acting was spot on.

5. The Runaways
I get a lot of shit for being a total Kristen Stewart fanatic, and I'm often told that I'd watch pretty much anything that she's in. I don't know if that's necessarily true. I've seen pretty much everything she's been in, but then again I've been madly in love with her since I saw her in Panic Room at 14....and I am not ashamed! One day she will be mine! And yes, I have seen all of the Twilight movies in the cinema, just for her. (Notice how Eclipse did NOT make it into this list, thus proving that I will not recommend crap just because of Kristen Stewart). So, on to The Runaways, which did make it in. I love Kristen Stewart. I love when she dresses like a dude and doesn't wear a bra. I love Joan Jett. The Runaways is, thus, one of my fantasies come to life on screen - Kristen Stewart as Joan Jett, in leather pants, with a fem-mullet, not wearing a bra. Now, I was totally expecting this film to be total shit. I mean, there aren't a lot of rock biopics out there that I'd recommend. Last Days was one of the worst films I've ever seen, and I am a massive Kurt Cobain nut. Luckily, The Runaways was on a totally different level. The Runaways aren't a very well-known band, and theirs isn't a story that a lot of people could relate to (myself included), or even know about. It's a shame, because the story is an interesting and exciting one, which plays out very well on screen. This film was shot exceptionally well, and looked beautiful. Seeing Dakota Fanning and Kristen Stewart recreate the infamous Cherry Bomb performance, from Japan in 1977, was pretty incredible. The Runaways kind of bombed, which sucks, because I loved it. But then again, maybe I'm the only one who did!

4. Frozen
Frozen is by far my favourite horror release of 2010. It went straight to DVD over here, which meant practically no one got a chance to see it. It's a real shame, because this is a serious horror gem. It was made for practically no money, and the set itself is claustrophobically small. There are just three actors on screen for the majority of the running time, which nearly always spells disaster. In this case, it was genius. The story revolves around three twentysomethings who get stranded on a skilift. Pretty simple premise, but terrifying nonetheless. Of course, there are only three people involved, so there's no picking everybody off one by one, nor are these characters dumb or irritating. They are layered, believable and it's really easy to sympathise with their plight. Although it does, at times, make for difficult viewing, Frozen is one of the most original movies I've seen this year, and definitely one of the most original horrors in recent years. More people should see this fucking movie!

3. Scott Pilgrim Versus The World
Ah, Scott Pilgrim...one of my more recent obsessions... I've already written a big, long, boring blog about what I loved and hated about this movie adaptation, and I don't want to repeat myself here. But let me just say that, upon closer inspection, my one and only problem with this film is Mary Elizabeth's Winstead shockingly amateur performance, in which she turns Ramona Flowers, the ultimate bad ass dream girl, into the eye-rolling, snarky, evil bitch that fat, 30-year-old nerds living in their mothers' basements always wanted her to be. MEW, I will hate you forever for wrecking an otherwise perfect film, and for making far too many nerds believe that they were right all along.

2. Toy Story 3
This was an easy choice for second place, because it was one of two perfect films for me this year. This is also on everybody's Top 10 list because, not only was it the perfect ending to a perfect trilogy, but it is beautifully shot, perfectly acted, with a well-structured plot that is equal parts funny, sad, moving and thrilling. Of course, I'm part of the generation that has grown up with these films, so I was bawling like a baby by the end, for more reasons than what I was watching on screen. The Toy Story trilogy is that rarest of gems - a trio of animated films that can be watched over and over without losing any of their original magic. And Toy Story 3 rounded off the series perfectly.

1. Inception
I hate to be a cliche, and pick the film for number one spot that practically everybody else on the face of the planet is going to pick, but there really was no other film that came close to comparing to this one. Toy Story 3 was absolute perfection, but Inception went one step further, because it was live action, and somehow Christopher Nolan managed to achieve on screen what had previously only really been achieved in animated films. I saw Inception twice in the cinema, which of course is much less than a lot of other people. But I would've happily sat through it again another few hundred times. It was a joy to behold, and the acting was absolute perfection. Even Ellen Page, who usually irriates the shit out of me, was great. And, of course, Tom Hardy, Joseph Gordon Levitt and Leonardo Di Caprio were fantastic, as they always are. I have a feeling that Inception, much like The Dark Knight, will only get better with time.

So...that's it, my best movies of 2010. Perhaps now it's obvious that I have no taste in movies, perhaps not. But those are my choices and that's that!

Yesterday, I met my hero...

2010-11-28T20:19:00.004+01:00

In the midst of some very, very dark times for the joke of a country that is Ireland, I've decided to blog about something positive that happened in my life - something that I will look back on fondly for the rest of my life. Because, after all, it is a very good life that I lead. I'm grateful to be working, to have family and friends and a boyfriend around me who love me for who I am, to be healthy, to have a safe and lovely home, to be educated and hold a first class honours degree...there are loads of things I'm probably forgetting too, but for the moment, let me just say that I am happy and feel the need to write about something that reflects that, as opposed to a long, rambling rant about the state of the country. I understand that these are dark times, but feel no need to dwell on them here, because this, for the most part, should be a positive account. And besides, I'll be out of this shithole soon enough anyway!

So! Yesterday was a very, very important day for me. One of my all-time heroes and idols, the incredible Kat von D, was coming to Dublin to sign her brand new book, The Tattoo Chronicles. I'd made plans to go to this signing with two of my friends, both of whom cancelled on me for no good reason at the last minute. Not deterred by this, or by the snow that chose to appear overnight in Dublin, or the vicious hangover I'd woken up with after a night of heavy clubbing and even heavier drinking, I begged the emo to come with me, and after much, much persusasion, he finally agreed. Of course, given the snow, and the state of the so-called transport system in Dublin, it took me forever to arrive at Waterstone's, and I was late. The emo was not impressed, since he'd got into the queue on my behalf a half hour previous to my arrival. Luckily, we had two tickets (only a limited amount were given out for the signing, I think there were about 300 in total).

We stood patiently for the first hour, but nothing happened. People arrived and joined the queue, others gave up to go shopping, some were turned away when the tickets ran out, I made several runs to Starbucks for hot chocolate (and was accosted by a man who thought we were queueing to meet Stephenie Meyer - vomit)...but still, nothing. Apparently Kat von D was arriving soon. Ten minutes, twenty tops. Another hour passed, and nothing happened. By this stage, she was two hours late (we later discovered her flight had been delayed because of the weather) and people were getting really, really pissy. "Maybe the rumours about her being a bitch are true" said the chick in front of us. I assured her that there was no way in hell that was true, and that we weren't going to be turned away without meeting her (thank fuck I was right or I wouldn't have been able to defend her at all anymore).

It was unbearably cold. I had about five layers on and big, knee-high Docs but I felt like I was going to freeze to death. Then, finally, at 4.30PM (a half hour before the signing was due to finish), the queue finally started moving. Then, within another hour, we were inside the cosy, toasty confines of Waterstone's, in a queue that snaked all around the shop and upstairs to where ms. von D was standing patiently, signing book after book, meeting fan after fan.

I didn't get nervous until we were stood on the staircase. And when I stood on tip-toe and spotted her posing with a fan, I nearly passed out. I didn't know what to say or how to act or if I would even be able to walk over to her. I'd waited four hours in the freezing cold and now I wasn't sure I'd even be able to meet her!

See, I've admired Kat von D for years, as a tattoo artist, as a businesswoman, as a woman, as an alt woman...she's one of my heroes. If I could, I'd completely model myself on her. She's entirely self-made and, despite having many, many critics, she has yet to put a foot wrong in my book. I still watch her show religiously, and one day, if I am ever lucky enough to be tattooed by her, I know my life will be made. She stands for everything I admire and aspire to be, and she gives me strength and hope that, one day, my mother won't give a shit that I look like a freak, and that being myself will eventually pay off. She's made me love who I am and fuck all pretences otherwise, because she does.

And then, I was standing a few feet away from her. She signed my book, one employee had my camera, another was holding the book, and there was Kat von D, standing there smiling and so ridiculously, shockingly beautiful in real life, with her arms outstretched to hug me. I couldn't move. The emo shoved me a little (he was getting impatient and he couldn't feel his toes, not to mention that this had monopolised his whole day) and I slowly closed the distance between us. She embraced me in a hug that was warm and friendly, almost like she'd known me for years. Her perfume drifted up into my nostrils. I felt like I was going to faint, I couldn't believe I was still standing upright, and so close to my hero.

"Hi!" she said, smiling hugely at me. "Hi..." I whispered back, clutching my book to my chest, totally in awe and completely unable to look her in the eyes. "I love what you're wearing...you match the book!" she complimented me, taking a step back to check out my outfit. "Thanks.." I choked, still unable to look up. The emo took his place on the other side of her, I turned my head very slowly toward the camera, she put her arms around both of our shoulders and I tried my best to smile. "I blinked!" I exclaimed as the flash went off. "Do you want to take it again?" she asked good-naturedly. The Waterstone's chick showed me the photo and I shook my head, finally forcing myself to look up at her. She was like a fucking goddess, I couldn't believe she was even looking at me. "It's fine" I whispered, "thank you...". She smiled again, "no probs, see you guys around" and waved as I tried my best to put one foot in front of the other, and slowly make my way back downstairs. It was all over in a flash, but I was in a daze for the rest of the day. I couldn't even believe it'd happened, it was like I was having an out of body experience or I was dreaming or something. Kat von D is the type of person that I never thought, in a million years, that I would get to meet. I've looked at the photo below a thousand times since and I still can't believe that's me she has her arm around.

I probably sound like a fucking lunatic, but this was honestly one of the greatest moments of my life. I will never, ever forget it. And I'm so glad she was so beautiful and sweet and friendly in person, because I was so scared that all of the shit I'd heard about her was true. But now, I couldn't believe even for a moment that it is...

Eep!! I still have goosebumps at the thought of it!

So, that was my happy memory for the next...I dunno, probably ten years or so. I can't imagine getting pissed off about anything stupid ever again, when I got to meet my idol in the flesh... The snow didn't even really bother me today either! Here I am frollicking in it with the emo's adorable little puppy this morning. It was such a lovely walk.

In case it isn't obvious, I am still totally buzzing from yesterday. Oh. My. God.

Song of the day: High Voltage - Eagles Of Death Metal.

Currently reading: The Tattoo Chronicles - Kat Von D. I didn't think it was worth thirty quid when I bought it, but it's a great book. Full of gorgeous colour photos and lots of really in-depth info about her clients and personal life. Well worth a read.
Currently listening to: Songs that suit the weather, because I think it's too early for Christmas songs. I've had a lot of goth on today, but as it's got later, I've drifted into The Birthday Massacre. Their newest album, Pins and Needles gets even better with every listen.
Currently wearing: The outfit that KAT VON D said she liked!!!!!!!!!! Still can't believe it! I'll probably be mostly in warm clothes and boots while it's snowy, but I'll still have to make an effort to look corporate for work during the week. My winter wardrobe consists of lots of black, big jumpers, chunky, statement accessories, skinny jeans and big Docs or New Rocks.
Currently feasting my eyes on: The Tattoo Chronicles - Kat Von D. Loving it. Still can't believe it's signed. Holy shit I'm lucky...

Must update more regularly

2010-11-14T21:27:00.003+01:00

I've called this post that, and even now, ten seconds after writing it, I know I won't stick to it. Life has been so wonderfully busy, I haven't had time to write in, well, months. I suppose that's a good thing. I'm not too sure who's even reading this anymore. Maybe my buds who live abroad, or those I don't get to see all the time...I'm not too sure. But I'll continue to write whenever I can anyway, just in case somebody enjoys reading this. And because I love writing so much that this is still a fairly decent exercise for me.

Right! So, what's new then?

Well, I'm officially employed in a proper, grown-up, 9-5 job. It's both terrifying and exhilirating in equal measures. I'm writing every day, I'm getting ridiculously good experience, I'm learning how to do marketing, which is something I'd never really considered doing but still! It's been great. I have to dress like a normal human being for it, i.e. take out my piercings, cover up my tattoos, wear blazers and...*shudder*...heels, but it's actually pretty good fun. It kind of feels like I'm playing a character. One of the lads who sits across from me (it's a very swanky office that I work in, unfortunately, or fortunately depending on what you're into) noticed I had a tattoo on my arm and has been very hurt ever since, seeing as, in his words he "used to be the office freak". The people I work with are really good fun, and very inspiring too, especially the main chick I deal with, who is so good at her job that I could sit there all day and simply watch her in awe. She is my inspiration! Anyway, it's been really good fun. It's challenging and scary, but great. I'm so happy to be making money again and to be doing something I enjoy, getting valuable life experience, writing every day...and just generally having a life. It's awesome!

In other news, I got my biggest tattoo yet about...eh...almost two months ago, at this stage. It's Ramona Flowers, one of my absolute favourite comic book characters, in one of her classic ass-kicking, tough girl stances, on my right lower leg (apparently also referred to as the calf, but it's not on the back of my leg, it's the side, and it creeps slightly onto my shin). It took four hours of intense pain (the most delicious kind), but it was also an excuse for some quality time with my girl Scoob and our shared, incredibly sexy tattoo artist. We ended up staying in the tattoo shop till way after closing, just having a laugh swapping stories. It's awesome to have finally found a great tattoo artist in Dublin. I was kind of losing hope there for a bit. Afterwards, I had to make my way ever so slowly to Noodles' house, seeing as I've been giving his adorable 18-year-old sister German grinds for the past month or so. I looked crazy, my leg was all bandaged up and I was limping about, but luckily his mother is used to this sort of shit with me.

I love getting tattooed. It's one of my favourite things to do in the whole world. I know a lot of people don't understand the desire to get pierced or tattooed, but I really, really love both. I don't consider myself to be hardcore or incredibly unique or alternative or anything of the sort. I'm just me.

I can't wait for my next tatt...but I'll probably want to get pierced again first seeing as it's quicker, and usually something I do on the spur of the moment. Last one I got was a scaffold, and it was (surprisingly) more painful than my nipple piercing. It was a bitch to heal, as most ear piercings are, but it looks AWESOME. My mother still hates how pierced and tattooed I am, but luckily, at 22, I really couldn't give a shit anymore.

Last weekend I took my adorable little sis to see her favourite band (and one of mine), Paramore, in the O2. I splurged on a suite for the two of us in the hotel across the road (one of the fanciest hotels I've ever been in) for the weekend, we queued outside in the rain for seven hours to get to the front, made friends with mad Brits, took on hipster pricks, watched dozens of kids pass out and get pulled out of the crowd by massive, burly security guards, didn't pee for twelve hours, ended up bruised and exhausted...but it was totally worth it. This was the third time I'd seen them, and they blew me away. I get a lot of shit for liking Paramore, but a quick chat with Scoob (she of the mad Green Day obsession) and I feel totally normal again! Hayley Williams is definitely one of my heroes... Here's a photo of her from the show that I did not take because my camera sucks.

I have almost ten Paramore tees at this stage...which would be kinda weird if Scoob didn't have 30 GD tees. Now I feel normal again! I love this band. I'm probably going to see them every time they come here. And abroad too. And at festivals. Yup. It was a great weekend all round though, and we left with some fantastic memories.

What else...

Oh yeah! I graduated the week before Paramore. It was pretty standard; long, boring ceremony with too many speeches, lots of fake questions about "what I'm doing with my life" from ex-classmates, ridiculously high shoes that the chicks wearing em could barely walk in...and my mother cried. Then we had a lovely dinner in my favourite Chinese restaurant, which included not just my mad family (minus my father of course) but my lovely boyfriend too! He did a pretty good job of impressing everybody (especially my cousin and sister) too, which was pretty awesome.

The following night was the grad ball. I had my perfect dress, awesome shoes, great hair and make-up, and some fucking KILLER accessories (namely a giant cross necklace and a spider ring that was almost as big). The night itself was a bit blah. The emo was bored as hell and less than impressed when one of my old hookups shamelessly hit on me in front of him (and texted me from across the room) but, all in all, it was a fun night. Saz had a great time, which was really cool because usually she gets a bit self-conscious in those kind of social situations. O looked beautiful as always, and we had some fun breaking it down on the dancefloor, which gave me some hope that the people who are supposed to be in my life will be... I suppose it was a great end to four years that I didn't think I was going to survive.

Oh! I also took my little sis to see the West End production of The Rocky Horror Show, which was fucking awesome. Dill came along and swept her off her feet with his perfect Chris O'Dowd impression (although he's still not her fave of my boys, but that's a pretty difficult feat). The show was AMAZING, easily the best musical I've seen on stage. Of course, "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" is one of my favourite films of all time, but seeing it live on stage was something else... It was incredible. I'd definitely go again. The company wasn't bad either!

So, all in all, life is pretty fucking good at the moment. I feel incredibly lucky to be working, and even when I feel exhausted at the end of the day, I force myself to take a step back and give myself a mental kick up the ass. I usually stick on "Starbucks" by A too, because I think it's the best "Fuck this, at least I'm working!" song. That probably sounded sad, but it's true. I'm making more money than I ever have in my life, which means I get to go out, go to shows, get tattooed and pierced, buy shitloads of drainpipes and band tees and, in some kind of pathetic effort to be somewhat girly, I've even bought some proper make-up and hair products. I got my hair done before grad and it felt very...odd. I hadn't had my hair done in a year, and thank fuck, it wasn't in as bad condition as I'd feared, which means soon it will be long and wavy and awesome! Oops that was pretty girly...

I should stop writing this now and get some translating done before I pass out... I did nothing but laze about with the emo, fuck, eat junk food, watch movies, Mega64 and "Veronica Mars" (yeah, we're a maaad couple) all weekend...but even so I'm absolutely exhausted! Must be getting old.

Song of the day: B.O.B feat Rivers Cuomo - Magic (he supported Paramore and he totally won me over).

Currently reading: Shooting the shit with Kevin Smith - Kevin Smith. Looooove him. His podcast with Jason Mewes, "Jay and Silent Bob Get Old" is awesome too. Has made me laugh and cry in equal measure.
Currently listening to: Lots of Paramore. Lots of Combichrist. Some pop, just because it's nice to mix it in every now and again.
Currently wearing: For work, conservative shit. For downtime, band tees, drainpipes, cons, scarves and hats, my leather jacket. Got some stuff ordered too that I'm very excited about.
Currently feasting my eyes on: Lenore - Noogies. I fucking love Lenore, I can't wait to get a Lenore tatt...or several. Also, Kristen Stewart, as always. I'm pretty obsessed with Hayley Williams at the moment (obviously). Her style really influences mine, so I like to check out what she's wearing all the time.

An epic of epic epicness

2010-08-25T22:46:00.003+02:00

I actually have that poster up in my room...I'm such a loser...

So! Today was FINALLY the day. After six books, tonnes of hype and a year-long obsession, Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, the movie adaptation of Bryan Lee O'Malley's awesome Scott Pilgrim comic book series finally hit Irish cinemas.

I was nervous, apprehensive, anxious and...well, excited would be an understatement. I couldn't calm myself down enough to get much sleep last night, and the emo joked that it felt like Christmas eve. I've been waiting for this day to come since he sent me the first instalment while I was on Erasmus last summer. I've been hooked ever since. Scott Pilgrim was my first, proper introduction to the nerd world, and luckily I took to it like a fish to water, proudly proclaiming "Ich bin ein Nerd" while engaging in deep, seriously intricate conversations about the series with die-hard fans and newbies alike. I introduced my good friend Dill to it, too, and then gave out shit to him for not getting as excited about it as I did.

See, to me, Scott Pilgrim is more than just an awesome comic book series, it's a representation of my own generation in the most honest, hilariously accurate way. And, of course, given my own shitty relationship history, I saw more than a bit of myself in the character of Ramona Flowers. I fell in love with the comic books instantly and I eagerly anticipated the arrival of the movie adaptation, feeling ever more frustrated by the "post-production" notices on IMDB. The trailers whetted my appetite somewhat, and the additions of Anna Kendrick, Jason Schwartzman, Chris Evans and, most of all, Kieran Culkin, to the roster of stars made me even more excited. However, the decision to cast Michael Cera and Mary Elizabeth Winstead in the leads left me somewhat underwhelmed. But I was never going to go easy on this movie, though, because I love Scott Pilgrim far too much for that. But anyway, here are my thoughts.

The emo and I arrived at the cinema to find queues of nerds eagerly attempting to purchase tickets for the showing we'd selected. We stood, terrified and silly in our newly-purchased Scott Pilgrim T-shirts (not matching, and from the comics, not the film) and waited for our turn. Luckily, we got tickets by the skin of our teeth. The screening we attended was PACKED and more than a few teenyboppers who'd clearly only recently hopped on the bandwagon pissed us off before the credits even rolled to signal the beginning. Luckily, nothing could turn us off, we'd waited too long.

The opening sequence was fantastic, and caught my attention immediately. It was funny and looked as if the artwork of the comics had been directly translated to the screen, but not in an incredibly obvious way. It wasn't too brash and comic-booky but it captured their essence nonetheless. Even the credits looked cool.

The film itself, which shoved all six books into just under two hours, was funny, great to look at, well-acted, perfectly scripted and ingeniously blended the style of the comic books into the film. Mark Webber (Stephen Stills), Ellen Wong (Knives Chau), Kieran Culkin (Wallace Wells), Anna Kendrick (Stacey Pilgrim), Allison Pill (Kim Pine) and Johnny Simmons (Young Neil) were all part of a fantastic supporting cast. Chris Evans was particularly hilarious as Lucas Lee, and Jason Schwartzman nerdy but still threatening as the evil Gideon.

The fight scenes were perfectly choreographed, the video game references were well-executed and, thankfully, the whole feeling of the comic books translated very well to the big screen, thanks to superb direction from Edgar Wright. The addition of 60s Batman style sound effects such as POW! in bright, colourful bubble writing was a particularly nice touch, and the wit of the comics was delivered through little inserts of speech blocks here and there. The dialogue was snappy, the jokes from the books were perfectly executed and the characters truly came to life with a wonderful score against the beautifully wintry backdrop of Toronto.

In fact, the only negatives in an otherwise perfect film, were the two leads, Michael Cera (Scott Pilgrim) and Mary Elizabeth Winstead (Ramona Flowers). Since I'm a die-hard Scott Pilgrim fan, I was most displeased when I found out that Cera, who to me is the same in pretty much everything he's in (although his goofy, nerdy George Michael character in Arrested Development is hilariously funny) was to be cast in the lead. Michael Cera cannot play Scott Pilgrim. Michael Cera cannot play anything besides Michael Cera. And, as I'd predicted, he played Scott Pilgrim as if he were doing an impression of Michael Cera. Although he was goofy and silly, the character was not brought to life in the same way as the others were. He did a good job delivering some of Scott's ridiculously silly one-liners, but that of course has more to do with O'Malley's superb writing than Cera's sub-par acting skills. Critics are claiming that he just barely pulled it off. I strongly disagree. He looked like Scott Pilgrim, and his dialogue sounded like him. But he wasn't him in the same way Kieran Culkin was Wallace Wells or Mark Webber was Stephen Stills.

Furthermore, Mary Elizabeth Winstead turned Ramona, who is the bad-ass, mysterious, dream girl who appears out of nowhere and forces Scott to re-evaluate his life and, ultimately, fight for the right to call her his girfriend. It's true that many fans of the series detest Ramona. They think she's an evil bitch, that Scott shouldn't have to fight for her, etc, etc. It should be noted that the fans in question are mostly bitter nerdy dudes in their 20s who either never got the girl or never tried.

I, on the other hand, adore Ramona. I saw a lot of myself in her from the very beginning, despite how controversial she is. She has these evil exes who refuse to let her be happy (so much so that they've joined forces to stop anybody else from being with her), she's afraid of being hurt, she refuses to really get close to anyone and she's always running away from her past. She kicks ass and she changes Scott's life. In the series, she leaves to clear her head, and when she returns, Scott fights Gideon (the boss, if you will) for her love and wins. They finish the book by deciding to give their relationship another try. It's a positive, realistic message of young love and, to me, it was perfect.

The film is slightly different. Ramona runs off with Gideon in the end and then Scott has to fight to save her. First, this makes no sense. Ramona was never a damsel in distress. Nor did she ever intend to willingly go back to Gideon. Furthermore, Winstead has clearly taken the bitch label to heart as she plays the character cold, emotionless and completely deadpan. She smiles a total of twice, and the kisses she shares with Cera are completely forced and ice-cold. The wigs she wears are laughably bad, and don't move for the entirety of the film. She doesn't seem to feel comfortable in Ramona's skin and is more than a little standoffish towards all of the other characters.

Although she does kick some ass (namely Roxy's, using her awesome hammer), mostly she just stands around looking bored or pissed off. It's difficult to sympathise with Cera's Scott, because he seems kind of lost throughout, but at least he learns his lesson in the end. Winstead's Ramona is so cold and uncaring and...bland that it begs the question - what the fuck does he even see in her!? This chick is supposed to be THE dream girl, not just some kooky bitch with coloured hair and rollerblades. I dunno if Winstead is a talented actress or not, seeing as I've only seen her in this and the silly but fun Final Destination 3, but I have no idea what kind of Ramona she was trying to represent, unless it was the angry nerd boys' bitch Ramona (which is not the real Ramona, if you ask me).

Anyway, besides those two slight downfalls, the movie adaptation of Scott Pilgrim was absolutely fantastic. It looked amazing, the dialogue was great, the acting, for the most part, was on point and, above all else, it did the excellent series justice. I was nervous, but I need not have been. It just made me love the series even more. Hats off to Edgar Wright and Bryan Lee O'Malley for making a near-perfect comic book adaptation that really did the series justice.

I can't wait to see it again and I really REALLY can't wait to get my tattoo!!!

Song of the day: The Prodigy - Invaders Must Die.

My Life As Joey

2010-08-23T23:05:00.002+02:00

Lately I've been watching this silly MTV mockumentary called "My Life As Liz", which stars this cute, nerdy, skinny little hipster chick called Liz, who doesn't really fit in at her high school and hangs out with all of these nerdy boys and has lots of mad thoughts and collects comic books, etc, etc. It's totally sad for me to be watching it, seeing as I'm 22 years of age and actually claim to have a life most of the time, but I'm doing so anyway because, as much as I hate to admit it, I quite like it. It' s not very often that the female protagonist of a TV show or movie or whatever is nerdy, gawky, weird, awkard or, most of all, tomboyish. And it's nice to see. So that's why this entry title is what it is. I really am that cool and inventive.

So I haven't blogged in a while because...time has been flying by lately and I haven't really been able to find any time to do...well...anything, really! I've been incredibly lucky this summer. I'm working about...three or four...jobs at this point (one of which is brand new as of a couple of weeks ago, and is a proper, grown-up job with a salary and I can't wear my piercings for it and I have to dress like a normal person and smile lots and it's soooo exciting!) and I'm absolutely loving it. I feel like, at the age I'm at now, I'm finally FINALLY settling in to who I am. When I was about 18 until I was about 20, I was sort of forced into trying desperately to be somebody I was not. I was all overtly sexual and burlesque-y and, although it was fun, I wasn't happy and I certainly wasn't comfortable. As I've said many times before, I'm more Hayley Williams than Dita Von Teese and, after many, many years and mistakes, I'm finally accepting that and refusing to fight it anymore. And I have lots of people who love me just as I am, which is fucking awesome. I'm actually kinda glad to be me.. A few weeks back, one of my boys said to me "You just love being awkward, don't you?" and I blushed like crazy because I hadn't realised that I was being awkard but I guess I was and...anyway, yeah, I like being treated as an equal. It beats being treated like...a girl... Urgh...

I recently came into a shitload of money and, like the ridiculous excuse for a girl that I am, I dumped a load of it in my Paypal to spend on band tees and other cool shit from America, got some new Criminal Damage jeans, got a new piercing (the worst pain I've had yet - even worse than nipple, which is truly bizarre because I didn't think that possible) and spent the rest on drinking, new Converse, catching up with my buds, seeing movies (Inception blew my mind) and...oh yeah, more band tees! I'm seriously addicted to them, I think I have a problem. Although I still don't have as many as my girl Scoob, who can't even fit hers into her dresser anymore! Having money again is fucking awesome, and thankfully I'm not as much of a dumbass with it as I once was. I've also managed to squeeze in a few dates with the emo along the way, which has been a lot of fun. When we hang out, he just feels like one of my boys...but we kiss and hold hands and fuck and all too, so it's kind of like the coolest relationship I could ever imagine! He gives me so much shit too, and vice versa. I love it!

I am so, so, so happy with my life right now. I dunno why, but it's as if everything has just clicked into place finally. Obviously, nothing is ever perfect, but it's pretty damn close! Everybody seems to be doing really well right now, actually.. My boy Noodles just got back from touring the UK with his awesome band, meaning he is a real rock star now. Surprisingly, when he arrived home, we ended up going clubbing with my other boy, Dill, instead of our usual plan of going to get hammered somewhere where rock tunes are playing and everybody gets really sweaty and messy. Although we did get very messy. I hadn't been clubbing in FOREVER and it was so much fun, although I could barely keep up with the amount they were drinking and I definitely wasn't dressed for the occasion (Vans...ahem). I've always thought that I could take a decent amount of drink (especially compared to most chicks) but they really gave me a run for my money that night! Oh yeah, and we danced in foam with 18-year-olds. And I woke up in bed with an inflatable dolphin we'd named Markus. I should probably mention that Noodles is currently engaged in a bit of a bromance with my newest boy (who I guess is still in training and has yet to see me puke or bruise me or bust my balls...oh wait, never mind...) but the less said about that, the better. They are very cute though. And their sweet reunion when Noodles got back from tour melted my little black heart!

What else... Oh yes! Graduation is coming up! Sadly it's the day before Halloween, which means the Grad Ball falls on my favourite holiday, but no matter, it'll be fun anyway. It has to be, it's the end of...eh...college? I dunno what else it's supposed to represent. I'm not into the girly side of it, obviously, so I'm not as excited as most other girls would be... I don't care about my make-up or anything. I might get my hair done that day or the day before, but that's more because I need a haircut! I want to wear Docs, too, but I dunno whether my mother will try to force heels onto me before I leave the house... I need to make a trip to Camden to get a dress, but who knows when the fuck that'll happen. First of all I have to book and get my next tattoo, which is going to be AMAZING. Thankfully, my artist is back this week after being away for almost a month, so I should be able to go in and see him in all his sexiness soon. After seeing my piercer, I was a bit weak at the knees, so I'll probably faint when I go in to book my tattoo. I do love my boys alt and weird, after all. I dunno why, just do.

The Scott Pilgrim movie is out this Wednesday, so the emo and I will probably do a little date that day (provided my sis doesn't tag along) and either rave or give out about it for much of the day... We'll wear our T-shirts (not matching, thank fuck) and be all hyper and loud and complain about the hipsters in attendance who are only there to see Michael Cera, but even so it's going to be fun! I dunno whether I'm expecting the film to be shit or great, I'll probably have mixed feelings either way. But I'm excited. It'll probably suck, but I'm excited anyway! I'll probably end up blogging again this week after I see it, actually.. I shouldn't have said that. Now I have to. Fuck.

I dunno who the fuck I'm even talking to with this! Blogging is so weird...

Song of the day: That Maniac choooon from when I was, like, 12 cos they played it in the club the other night and it's been stuck in my head ever since!

Currently reading: Generation Dead - Daniel Waters. I love zombie stuff.
Currently listening to: Lots of pop! And Paramore, cos I'm still really REALLY excited to see them. Oh, and Less Than Jake cos they do some great summer songs.
Currently wearing: All of my new band tees! I got some AMAZING Paramore ones. I got a great, green zombie chick tee too. She's got great boobies. I like her.
Currently feasting my eyes on: Lots of Tim Burton stuff. I've had a mad Nightmare Before Christmas thing going on lately. I'm trying to decide where to put my Jack Skellington tatt, and who I want to draw it for me, so I've been looking at loads of Tim Burton artwork lately. (I spotted Tim Burton playing cards in a shop the other day and I was sooo tempted to buy them, even though it'd be a really dumbass purchase). And Kristen Stewart! (Cannot WAIT for The Runaways to finally come out in September). And Jared Leto, who is FIT but a total twat.

As good as it gets (at least so far!)

2010-07-13T21:02:00.004+02:00

I've sat down about a hundred times over the past few months to write a post in here, but I've never managed to finish one. Perhaps this time I will! So, it's been a long while since I've blogged and an awful lot has changed over the past while so let's try to catch up a bit, shall we?

I finished college and got an amazing grade that I never expected, so all's well that ends well I guess. I went to a smaller college than most, so I never really felt like I got that real college experience that most people get. I loved my course though, and while I never really felt like I fit in or people really got me, I managed to make two best friends who I will keep for life. I also managed to create a friend out of an enemy, which is a pretty huge achievement, I think. I'm very happy that I chose to study journalism, because I now know more than ever that I want to write for the rest of my life, no matter what medium. I'm also glad I studied German too, because not only did I have the best experience of my entire life on Erasmus in Munich, but I've got a second language, which opens an endless amount of doors for me. All in all, my college experience was a good one, and I'm glad I stuck it out because there were times when I really felt like I couldn't. I learned a lot about life and love and everything in between, but most of all I learned a lot about myself.

Since I finished up, I've been writing every single day. My home life is a bit complicated still, seeing as my mother is feeling the strain of having a waster for a son and an asshole for an ex-husband. She used to take that stress out on me, but thankfully she has had a new man in her life for the best part of a year, and he has been the voice of reason, and often my only cheerleader. I'm not rich and famous quite yet, but I'm making money and I'm doing what I love so I'm happy. On top of that, I'm in the best relationship of my life with the most awesome guy I could ever ask for. Sometimes I find myself wondering how the fuck I got so lucky, but I suppose I must have built up my karma in a past relationship because things could not be better. Life in this city is the same as ever, but there's still room for new friends and some amazing nights out so I'm content here for the time being. I'm dying to get out and see more of the world, but the timing isn't quite right yet.

I'm itching to get more piercings, and my next tattoo is all planned out. I finally found a worthy artist in this city and I can't wait to get it done, but the funds aren't there yet. Soon though!

Hayley Williams has become one of my strongest role models, especially in the wake of a scandal involving a topless photo she sent to her boyfriend. A lot of people (by people I mean Christian fundamentalists and 15-year-old girls) were disappointed in her, but it made me like her even more because now she seems even more human to me, not to mention even more like me. It took me a really, really long time to figure out who I was, but I know now and if there is anybody I look up to, it's Hayley. And Kat von D, because she's completely self-made...actually, there are lots of women I look up to. But Hayley is one of the key players right now. I mostly look up to strong women who aren't afraid to be different, especially those who refuse to be girly or overly feminine just to be accepted. That being said, I still don't connect with a lot of females (unless it's in a romantic way). I have less than five close girl friends, and none of them are in any way girly or conventional (which is awesome).

Paul Gray, the Slipknot bassist, passed away on May 24th and, as a result, a band I've loved for the past ten years are pretty much over. There's talk of them doing a tour dedicated to his memory, with an unmasked guest bassist playing his parts, but if that does happen it'll be the last thing they do together as a band. Words cannot explain how much Slipknot mean to me, or how much they've meant to me over the past ten years. I've only seen them live twice, and both times they blew me away. Their music made me feel less alone when I was a depressed, suicidal teenager and they've helped me work through my anger and pain in times of serious distress. Slipknot have always been there for me, and will probably continue to be there despite Paul's death, whether they break up or not. I wish I could write an entire entry about what his death means to me, about what this band means to me, but I dunno if I'll ever find the time to do so. But it was almost two months ago at this stage and it still hurts just as much.

Pete Steele, lead singer of Type O Negative also passed away on April 14th. I've loved Type O Negative since I was a little Goth teenager, and his death really shocked me because, although they're not the kind of band I listen to on a daily basis, I still love them to bits and couldn't imagine my life without their music. Pete was ten years older than Paul when he died, but he was still quite a young man. With the two of them dying, and Dio, it's been a bad few months for metal. Luckily, I have absolute faith in this genre as one that cannot and will not die. As Corey Taylor once said, metal is the only genre of music that gives teenagers a positive outlet to unleash their anger. It's better to do so in a moshpit than on the streets with a knife, after all.

What else...

The Scott Pilgrim movie is about to come out in August, but the sixth book is coming out beforehand on July 20th. I am so so so so SO excited!!! My next tattoo is SP themed too, which should coincide nicely with the movie's release. I've also given the honour by Aaron Alexovich, writer and creator of the Serenity Rose comic book series, to translate his amazing stuff into German, which is an absolutely amazing opportunity, and even though it's a lot of work, I don't mind because it's so much fun!

There are three Kristen Stewart movies due out by the end of this year, the first of which I'm seeing tomorrow. I've been collecting all of her magazine covers too, I am just that obsessed with her. Not only is she sexy as hell, she's tomboyish, laidback, awkward and totally down to earth. If I were rich and famous, I'd be her (only not as hot, obviously!!).

I just got tickets to see one of my favourite bands, Paramore, for the third time in November. I missed them when they played with Green Day and (sob!!) Joan Jett and the Blackhearts the other week, but my good bud Scoob (who follows GD around the world) got me a lovely photo of Hayley from the Paris show so I was happy. This will be my little sister's second rock gig, and it is such an honour for me to be the one to take her again. She wants to queue outside to get up the front too, which is fine by me. The closer to Hayley we are, the better! Lately I've had to defend Paramore a lot, but I don't really mind. I love this band, they're fun and talented and they rock live. I'm lucky that Scooby loves GD though, because it means I feel a bit less sad for loving Paramore so much! Lately it's becoming more apparent to me that real friends and real boy/girlfriends are those that one can be totally goofy and silly around.

I should probably give honourable mention to my two bestest friends in the world, Noodles and Scooby. Collectively, we are Team JIR, i.e. the maddest and best people to party with. We've had a lot more time to hang out lately, whether it's because the timing is just right or we've been making more of an effort, but it's been awesome. Whether we're getting hammered and rocking out or eating too much junk food while bitching about the bands on Kerrang, we always have the best time together and I dunno what I would do without them. Life wouldn't be worth living!

I dunno what else to write about really....life is fucking awesome right now, and the best is yet to come because it hasn't even really begun yet! I should really blog more though...if only I could find the time!

Song of the day: Paramore - Looking Up.

Currently reading: I've taken a break from Dennis Lehane to read Lauren Conrad's LA Candy. I am not ashamed!
Currently listening to: Lots and lots of Paramore, plus Deftones and Murderdolls. Again, I am not ashamed!
Currently wearing: I have become re-obsessed with band T-shirts, so lots and lots of those, either loose or customised and grungy. I've been rotating my many pairs of drainpipes too, my current favourites being my neon pink ones (just like Hayley's!!). Still loving my leather jacket and Cons.
Currently feasting my eyes on: Kristen Stewart! Lots of Miami Ink and LA Ink, Tim Burton shorts and the Scott Pilgrim series all over again in preparation for the new one.

Your mouth is like a funeral, where kisses go to die

2010-03-29T16:17:00.004+02:00

Shit, it's been a while...maybe I have no life anymore...

All right, let's get started then, shall we? It's Monday and it's exactly 15.17 as I type these first few words. It is lashing rain outside and has been for the entire day so far. I'm in the library in college, where I practically live these days, staring out at the rain, hugging the radiator next to me for warmth and writing this blog instead of doing more work. I've been here since 10AM and this is my one and only proper break, so I'm taking full advantage (sort of).

I dunno why I started writing this when I've nothing really of interest to say...

Life has been pretty boring and routine as of late. Like I said, I've been doing nothing but college work pretty much since my birthday. I've been doing one to two hours of cardio every night because I had a three day long depressive episode last week and haven't felt right since (I worked through it, I'm that much of a lunatic). I haven't been out, I've barely seen any of my friends. I make time for the emo on weekends but it's never enough. He's exhausted too because he's just finished up his portfolio for college. I really hope he gets in, he really really deserves it. I also hope that, when this is all over in...what...five weeks time? I hope it's worth it and I get a first. I deserve it, I've been working tirelessly. And, judging by our careers talk last week (which 7 out of 32 people in my class attended) there isn't much to celebrate once this degree is done. Apart from it being done, of course.

I've been thinking a lot about the future lately. Actually, "thinking" isn't the right word...more like "panicking". Unfortunately, my passion is part of a very tough industry. We were told at the careers talk, by a working journalist no less, that we'd be better off getting the hell out of here, working in another country and returning with more experience under our belts because otherwise the chances of getting a job are slim to none. The current economic crisis doesn't help, clearly, but journalism is a tough industry regardless and it's not the kind where one can step into a job right after college. So moving seems like the most viable option career-wise, which is fine by me.

I've been dying to get out of here ever since I got back from Munich. It's becoming increasingly clear to me that travelling is the best option for a full life. I mean, I love Dublin, and I probably always will. But I want to see other places, experience different cultures, make friends all over the world. Right now, I've got a hundred different places I'd love to move to but the top four are probably Berlin, London, San Diego and Toronto. Toronto is number one because it's the furthest away and seems like a pretty cool city to live in. I'd love to be somewhere with really cold winters and really hot summers. Toronto has been my dream place for almost a year, with Berlin and San Diego close behind. Berlin would be awesome because it's such an amazing city, and because I'd get to speak German all the time. San Diego is warm and I could stalk Mega64 and go to comic con. London has felt like home my whole life, but it's not where I want to go first because it isn't unknown enough for me. Anyway, I don't know why I'm getting excited about this now because I will need to save up a SHITLOAD of money before I get to leave here. It'll be worth it though. I feel as if, when college ends, I'm going to be just itching to get my life started. Actually I'm itching a bit now. The end is so close, but it's not really the end...it's more like the beginning.. I hope that doesn't sound too corny!

In other news, the Scott Pilgrim versus The World teaser trailer came out last week and the final book is due for release on July 20th which means it's going to be an AWESOME summer no matter what else happens (although hopefully the weather will be good too). The films looks pretty awesome, the Batman-esque sound effects like POW! look really fun and Chris Evans (Gideon), Anna Kendrick (Stacey Pilgrim) and Kieran Culkin (Wallace Wells) all look like they're going to do an amazing job (okay Wallace wasn't in the trailer, but there's no way he'll be crap) but the casting for Ramona and Scott is really bugging me. First off, Michael Cera is once again playing HIMSELF. Scott Pilgrim is not goofy and quiet like Cera's usual characters, he's oblivious, silly and a hopeless romantic. He's ditzy as opposed to goofy, kind of careless and lazy and likeable all at the same time. There were moments in the trailer when Cera looked like he might do a decent Scott Pilgrim but mostly not. As for Mary Elizabeth Winstead...she looked as if she was reading badly off an autocue, like she didn't believe her own fucking lines. Although the part when they were in bed together melted my dirty little heart. She doesn't look like nerd dream girl material at all... However, it was only a teaser and I will still be excited for this no matter what.

Speaking of movies, my Mam was over in Newcastle visiting her manfriend this past weekend so the emo was over hanging out with me and my sis (and my brother and his friends who popped in from time to time and were obnoxious but funny, as always). He brought over the brand new New Moon Rifftrax and they were fucking AWESOME! We were laughing so hard we were crying. I'll never be able to repay him for introducing me to so many brilliant things. We watched Mega64 Version 3 too and my sis, of course, developed a crush on Shawn Chatfield (who wouldn't!?). And we ate junk food. And we watched all of the Sunday night reality TV shit. And it was fucking deadly. I've never been as happy as I am with the emo. I don't know what I'd do without him. I can't imagine him ever hating me but I know there's a possibility that he might. It scares me, but I have to try to be strong like Ramona (yes, I know she's fictional but even so) and just take each day as it comes and be happy, which I am. Finally.

Today begins my two week Easter break, but seeing as I am in the library it's probably pretty clear that I have little intention of actually taking a break. I've got plans to see Scooby and Noodles later in the week which will kick major ass because I haven't seen them in over a month and we have so much to discuss. Scoob is trying to convince me to come see Green Day in Marlay Park in June, with her and her die-hard fan friends. I don't like GD much anymore, but the almighty Paramore are supporting and, seeing as the GD loons (not meant offensively, I am a 22-year-old proud maggot after all) are camping overnight, thus cementing their places at the barrier right in front of the stage...well...the question is, would I pay 60 quid to see Hayley up close..?

....probably!

Time to get back to work. There are people to be trolled on FB (another hobby of the emo's that I adore) and feminist readings to be ploughed through (Greer and Zoonen need to leave me alone and stop trying to convince me that all men are pigs). I'm sure this post was life-changing. No need to thank me.

Currently reading: A Drink before the war - Denis Lehane (he scares me in the best possible way).
Currently listening to: Liebe ist für alle da - Rammstein (REALLY want to see them this summer).
Currently wearing: Drainpipes, T-shirts, jumpers, dresses, Converse. I've been taking style inspiration from Hayley lately, but I bought a new dress the other week. It's black and white striped with lace sleeves and detailing and a photo of Taylor Momsen (I dunno why) with the word "Glamour" across it. I thought it was so naff but also pretty cool and I just had to get it.
Currently feasting my eyes on: Anything to do with Kristen Stewart because I'm obsessed with her right now, also upcoming movie trailers for the summer and the second instalment of Gloom Cookie.

Song of the day: Jack off Jill - Clear Hearts Grey Flowers.

All the love I've met, I have no regrets, if it all ends now I'm set

2010-02-24T22:51:00.013+01:00

Shit, it's been a while since I updated this...luckily only my close friends and personal stalkers read it so it doesn't really matter! The whole business of blogging is kind of stupid, and a bit self-serving, especially if one isn't famous or even slightly well-known. I don't read many blogs, just my friends' ones and Hayley Williams', which is interesting and funny without being pretentious or irrelevant. It's becoming increasingly obvious to me that certain people, be they famous or otherwise, use blogs purely as a vehicle for their own self-promotion. Some of them do it in a completely upfront manner, in the vein of "I'm so great, my life is brilliant, all of my friends are gorgeous, look at my awesome SHOES!" while others think they're being clever by doing so in a self-deprecating way. I hate people who can't take compliments, who constantly put themselves down so that they get complimented MORE. I used to be one of them. It isn't cute and it isn't modest. If somebody says something nice about you, just fucking accept it and say thank you. Where was I going with that..? Oh yeah, some blogs are fucking stupid. However, sometimes I have serious blog envy. My bud O had an amazing one but now it's private (boo!) which is good because at least I don't feel like my blog sucks, but shit because I want to read her thoughts. She's an interesting person, a bit of a contradiction and a cliche, but she's cool. She's honest, for the most part, and I admire that in people. Too many people hide behind niceties and false smiles, when they're talking everybody down in secret.

Oh, right blogs. Yes, some are pretentious. Some incredibly so. Luckily, I don't waste my time reading those, just like I don't waste my time on people who are fake. Since I'm in my final year now, I only have two classes a week during which I have to socialise with the rest of the people in my college course. Most of them are fine, friendly, whatever. And I'm used to the fact that I'm not everybody's cup of tea. But I have to admit that I love that this year, a lot of the study and work I have to do is alone. I like the space that I have to think, and that I can choose what I do and when I do it. It's incredibly freeing. Of course, the downside to that is that I've been working myself to the bone doing both of my dissertations and my radio project. I love what I'm doing, and I know that it will be worth it in the end, but right now I'm just so tired all the time that I'm worried the rest of my life will suffer as a result. I have great friends around me, who understand the situation I'm in and make the best effort they can to see me when they can, but it still fucking sucks. I can't wait till this is all over and I can just hang out for a bit and be with the people I love.

So! I've been incredibly busy the past while, like I said. I spent all of last week doing interviews for my radio project, which basically involved sitting in tattoo parlours (and my favourite piercing studio in Dublin too) and chatting to tattoo artists about tattooing. I just used the word "tattoo" about a hundred times...oops... Anyway, it was really good fun and so interesting. I learned all about the Dublin tattoo scene and how it developed over the years, about the so-called cliques who believe either that those who are heavily tattooed have more right to be known as alternative than those who have only one or two, versus those who think each to their own and there's no point giving out about prejudice against those who are heavily tattooed if they're going to be prejudiced to those who aren't. It was, at times, a terrifying experience (not because of the subject matter, just because of interviewing in general), but it was hugely entertaining and enlightening also. Every time I got nervous or felt like I couldn't do it, I reminded myself why I chose to do radio this year. It was because I wanted a challenge, I wanted to do something outside of my comfort zone. After all, life is short. What's the use in being scared?

The different mentalities of the two cliques got me thinking about so-called alternative culture in general. I'm somebody who, even dressed in a simple white T-shirt and blue jeans, with no piercings or tatts or make-up or anything, still looks like a freak. It's who I am, the way I was born. Yes, my style has evolved over the years and the bodymod makes me look a bit weirder, but underneath it all, I'm still a freak. I always have been and I always will be. I know people who look perfectly normal and they are the weirdest people, the most alternative and interesting. Let's face it, it's pretty easy to dress or act a certain way, and get shit stuck in your face or whatever, but you can't fake being "weird" or, for want of a better word, "different". In one sense, I agree with one of the tattoo dudes I spoke to, who said that we should just accept people the way they are, whether they're covered in tatts or only have one, because that's their choice. I have five tatts but they're all small, so I'm certainly not claiming to be heavily tattooed or hardcore. So who am I to judge someone who only has one but is really proud of it? Then again, on the other hand, I almost got fired for having a tattoo on my back that was hidden the majority of the time. There is a certain taboo associated with tattoos. And stupid teenagers jumping on the bandwagon and getting tattooed does make it seem a lot less special. But, that's their choice too. I think bodymod will always be a subculture, and that's cool. But just because it's more mainstream now doesn't make it less special.

Being "alternative" (that sounds so fucking pretentious, but I don't know what other word to use) is, in itself, subversive. So trying hard to be alternative sort of defeats the purpose. But then, on the other end of the spectrum, there are those who try not to look at all out there, who claim that, in doing so, they are the most subversive and alternative of all. That I really cannot stand. I'm grand with people dressing "normally" or "alternatively" or whatever the fuck they want, but making a conscious effort to look or not to look a certain way so that you appear aloof, thus making you more out there is just fucking retarded. The fact remains, be whoever you want to be and fucking keep it real. Take emo kids, for example. They get a lot of shit because, although they look mental, they all dress the same, making them sheep. I don't see anything wrong with that, because soon enough they will learn, like I did, who they are and they will dress accordingly. Personal style is a powerful thing. A lot of people hate my personal style, but lots love it too. It's been defined many different ways, but being categorised isn't something I adhere to so I'll just leave it simply at "my style", whatever that is. All I know is, I always feel like me. And I never, ever try to look weird no matter what anybody says because trust me, if I was trying to look weird, I'd look a lot crazier. ANYWAY enough rambling. This is a difficult topic to discuss because everybody thinks differently about it, but let it be known that most people don't have to try to be weird, nor do they have to try to look like they're not weird so that they may be considered even more weird!!

What else have I got to write about... My life consists mainly of college work right now, which is pathetic but it's what I love so I don't mind. Luckily, I've still been making time to read and write and see the emo. Speaking of which, this is hands down the best relationship I have ever been in. There's no bullshit, no fighting (unless I take into account drunken fights about nothing that are later resolved with bouts of fantastic drunken sex), we're completely honest with each other, we have fun together, we talk, we're best friends, the sex is the best of my entire life, we make each other laugh, we're comfortable together, it's romantic... I could go on for longer but I won't because I don't want to sicken my buds who are reading this and imagining what happens in that crypt-like room of the emo's late at night... Seriously though, it really is a fantastic relationship. I don't know what I did to deserve somebody so great. Maybe it's just because I've grown up a lot in the past couple of years. The only other time I've ever been in love was when I was 18/19/20 and it almost destroyed me (although I wouldn't change a thing). But this is...different...and it's great. I think it might last a long time, and yet I don't feel the need to count. I surprised him with turtles the other day (adopted from a mutual friend, he's wanted some for aaages). He was shocked but fell in love with them after about two seconds. Their names are Optimus Prime and Megatron, after the awesome Transformers. They're so cool, I could watch them all day. It took a lot of planning, but it was worth it to see the look on his face. Seeing him happy makes me even more happy. I don't think I've ever got so much out of a relationship before, nor have I ever given so much of myself either.. That sounds corny, but it's true.

Asides from work, everything is pretty great at the moment. Time is both flying by and standing still at once, it's the weirdest feeling. I can't wait to be done, and yet I'm terrified of what's to come. However, all things considered...I'm happy.

Currently reading: The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold (the film is supposed to be shit though).
Currently listening to: The Betrayed - Lostprophets (took some getting used to, but it's different and it's great).
Currently wearing: My new blue Converse, cute little dresses, the emo's grungetastic ripped jeans, my leather jacket, pink hat, band T-shirts....my new zombie flats that I am IN LOVE with!
Currently wanting: More Criminal Damage stuff, a scaffold and, of course, another tattoo.
Currently feasting my eyes on: Serenity Rose vol 2 - Aaron Alexovich (the emo got me a signed copy of this for my birthday, it only just arrived and I am IN LOVE with it!).

Song of the day: Lostprophets - Dirty Little Heart.

Burgers + tatts + too many drinks + kick ass pressies + awesome friends + no sleep at all = my fucking awesome 22nd birthday

2010-02-10T23:14:00.005+01:00

So it was my birthday last Friday, and I'm only getting a chance to write about it now because college is so ridiculously busy at the moment - between running around, practically sleeping in the library and making calls begging people for last minute interviews, I haven't had a second to stop. I can't believe how much I have to do, I feel so overwhelmed sometimes. I'm quite behind on the Mega 64 podcast too, which is just completely unacceptable as far as I'm concerned. I just watched last week's one now and I've another loading up for when I'm done with this (although I'm probably going to end up watching it on the bus to and from college tomorrow cos I'm so fucking TIRED right now). I have to start a new book too, or else I'm going to go mad. I have one waiting for me, I just have to take a minute to sit down and fucking start it.

Anyway, I turned the grand old age of 22 last Friday and although Saz gave me shit for getting old, the fact that I'm rocking the emo fringe right now and still getting hit on by 15-year-olds while trying to hurry through the city on any given day meant I wasn't at all upset about it. My face, for some reason, is refusing to age. Maybe it's cos I gave up the cigarettes, maybe I'm just blessed or whatever, I don't know. But I still look young and I'm okay with that. It makes getting older much more fun.

Despite the fact that 22 isn't a big deal, for my birthday this year, I celebrated on three consecutive nights out on the town - the first of which was on Thursday in my favourite rock bar. The objective was to get hammered and I definitely, definitely did. By the time midnight rolled around I could barely speak. But that's okay, cos that was exactly what I wanted. And because it was technically my birthday night out, I knew other people would be in charge of getting me home.

I was fucking skint last week so I had nothing new to wear, which pissed me off. I ended up in pink zebra-print hotpants, a white vest top, fishnets and Docs (luckily, I was too drunk to care). Oh, and I had a badge that said "I am 8" which was given to me by the emo. I loved it, as I did his card, presents (that haven't arrived yet cos they're being shipped from the US but they are AWESOME anyway) and everything else I received that night. As usual, the pressies were unconventional. Scooby got me a Kevin Smith book and a framed pic of the two of us looking disgustingly drunk and sweaty on the dancefloor together (among other things), Saz got me a grungetastic Kurt Cobain top and Joker badges, Star got a pressie that was too big to bring to the pub, Ross got me a big chocolate bar that said "Happy Birthday", Tar got me a "Nicht lustig" book and skeleton arm socks, and Noodles got me a tattoo (to name but a few)! He surprised me with it the day before, over hot chocolate in Butler's (what else!?). We hopped excitedly in his car and sped off to Bray where I met the most frightening and probably best tattoo artist I've ever come across. I got the word "Liebe" (German for love) on my right wrist. It wasn't the worst pain I've ever felt, and I managed to set up an interview with the guy too which was awesome. It's healing quite well, which is great. The only problem is that I'm itching for more...

Thursday night went well overall. There was a bit of trouble with Star, who saw it fit to attempt to get Dill and the emo to fight (although neither of them knew she was trying to provoke the other until the next day). It escalated into a pretty serious incident, involving me being dragged kicking and screaming back to the emo's house, but once the dust settled the next morning it was grand. I'll admit it was a very shitty thing for her to do, but luckily the lads are too smart for shit like that and no harm was done. In fact, they may have formed an unlikely alliance in defiance of her.

Friday was my actual birthday, so I had to race home to see my mother for a bit (even though we'd been fighting all week long). I asked for Converse and she got me bright blue ones, which the emo and I later doodled on (he drew a heart-shaped skull on one toe and I drew a Scott Pilgrim head on the other, which I then labelled "Scott Pilgrim" because it looked nothing like him due to my inferior drawing skills). Other than that, I got lots of money and clothes and a big bag of Werthers from my grandparents (aren't they sweet?). I'd only been home about a half hour when the emo rang to tell me he'd forgotten what time we were meeting and that he was on a bus into town so he wouldn't be late. I rushed to throw on a dress and heels (I'd decided Friday was going to be my classy night out, dunno why) and then legged it out the door. He took me for a lovely birthday dinner in Wagamamas, one of my all-time favourite restaurants, and afterwards we met Noodles for drinks in my favourite gay bar. Many cocktails, cheesy pop hits, Subway and a bottle of red wine later, the three of us headed back to Wicklow and I slept as much as I could in preparation for my final day of partying.

Saturday was another mad rush, as I legged it back to Dublin to shower and make myself somewhat presentable for that night. I still had nothing to wear, so I ended up in Cons for the night (which I was glad of later). Dill decided that my birthday present from him would be a night out, and I was only too happy to oblige. There's nothing I love more than good food, drinks and decent conversation with a friend. He took me to a little hipster restaurant called Jo'Burger that although a bit of a trek outside the city, was worth it in the end because it was definitely the BEST burger I have ever had in my entire life. I thought GBK was good, but this was out of this world. I'd read about the place in Dubliner and I was glad to discover that it was just as non-coupley as they'd described it (everybody sits squashed up on long benches, so it's not exactly a romantic setting) which meant that there were no awkward moments between the two of us. After all, there's nothing worse than finding oneself on a date with somebody who is just a friend, especially when knowing deep down the other person wishes it was more than friendship (not to mention the fact that I'm taken for the first time in two years). The place was very hipster, with a DJ spinning tunes, only organic Coke on the menu and mad burger toppings such as feta cheese and rocket salad. But it was delicious, and I was surprisingly glad of the walk back to the city as it gave me a chance to deflate.

We headed to Bruxies first, but it was packed with match fans who were shouting and boozing too much for my liking, so we ended up in Doyles for the night. It's not a pub I go to terribly often, because the music and crowd are predominantly indie, but it's a good spot nonetheless. We drank and chatted and there were some decent tunes. As it crept into the wee hours, we opted not to pay an extortionate price for a taxi and to simply follow the Luas tracks back to Dill's place, BK in hand. It was an odd walk back. I felt a bit like I was in a post-apocalyptic zombie movie. But it was nice, too. The Dublin air was refreshingly cool, and we got more time to chat (we never run out of things to say to each other). I didn't get a wink of sleep that night because he was snoring so fucking loudly, but I didn't mind. I was buzzing from the last three days.

On Sunday morning, Dill surprised me with the new Lostprophets album The Betrayed (which I'd been whinging about not getting for my birthday) and, after much gushing from me about how fucking awesome of a friend he is, we parted ways and I settled into a comfy chair in Butler's to read the Sunday Independent and drink the best hot chocolate in Dublin, before the emo arrived and we headed out to mine for dinner. Although I was nervous for him to eat with my crazy family, he did very well and even impressed my mother with his manners (which is a difficult thing to do) and my siblings with his wit (not so difficult). He was charming, funny, respectable, polite and sweet. He really did me and him proud. It was the perfect end to a rather perfect birthday and I couldn't have been happier.

The whole notion of birthdays gets a bit silly after the big ones, like 18 and 21, but this one still felt really special to me because I'm lucky enough to be surrounded by people who genuinely love me, and whom I genuinely love back. It probably sounds really corny, but I'm really happy right now. And even though college is ridiculously hard, my mother is trying my last nerve and I'm bloody skint, I wouldn't change anything. It's so funny, because I never thought I'd say that. I feel terrible complaining about anything, because my worries are so insignificant compared to others'. I haven't cared for a long time what people think of me, so I don't know why I'd let it start bothering me now. I was reading an interview with Ian Watkins the other day, and he was saying that even though people hate him and think they know him when they don't, it doesn't bother him or stop him from living his life the way he wants to. I know he can be an arrogant prick at times, but I really try to emulate that in my life. And frankly, I think I'm doing a pretty fucking good job of it at the moment too.

Song of the day: Lostprophets - Where We Belong.

Heaven's A Lie

2010-01-31T20:02:00.002+01:00

I went to my very first gig of 2010 on Friday night - Lacuna Coil in The Academy (which is fast becoming my favourite venue because of how ridiculously close one can get to the band, not to mention the LOUD sound) and the setlist went a little something like this:

1. I Survive
2. Underdog
3. Closer
4. I'm Not Afraid
5. Fragments of Faith
6. Tight Rope
7. Senzafine
8. I Won't Tell You
9. Heaven's A Lie
10. Fragile
11. Wide Awake
12. To The Edge
13. The Maze
14. Daylight Dancer
15. Enjoy The Silence
Encore:
1. Not Enough
2. Spellbound
3. Our Truth

I wasn't too pushed about going to see Lacuna Coil again, to be honest. I spotted a poster for the gig en route into the city a couple of weeks ago, asked the emo if he'd be bothered going, and when he was up for it we got tickets a week before the gig and that was it. I never got properly excited about it, probably because I find their latest album Shallow Life is a bit lacklustre and kind of boring. I knew that if I went again, I'd either end up loving the album or hating it even more (the former ended up happening, much to my delight).

Lacuna Coil are a band with a very distinct sound, both metal and melodic, hardcore with sweet vocals, pounding riffs with distinctive, catchy melodies. They're an interesting band and they're very tight onstage. Last time I saw them was four years ago in the Olympia, for the Karmacode tour. It was an amazing gig and they absolutely blew me away. I spent most of the night drooling over Cristina Scabbia, while simultaneously being in awe of how awesome and metal she is. I saw Evanescence at Download in 2007 and not only were they shit, but metalheads behind me were shouting at Amy Lee to show her tits because that was all she was good for because the band didn't belong there. I wholheartedly agree with that statement. Evanescence are a dreadfully drab, uninteresting, formulaic band and Lee always annoyed me because she only dressed the way she did onstage. She wasn't actually alternative, and that pissed me off. Having said all of that, I can see how hard it must be to be a female in rock, even worse in metal, but Cristina Scabbia has said several times in interviews that nobody ever shouts at her to show her tits because they're afraid to, they have too much respect for her. And she's right. The woman has a hell of a presence. It may also have something to do that her boyfriend is the huge Slipknot guitarist, Jim Root. Nobody really wants to start on his chick...

The emo and I arrived at The Academy around 8.30, not bothered watching shitty support bands for hours beforehand. He bought a girls' Lacuna Coil T-shirt (he prefers it that way) that, much to his annoyance, I ended up buying after the show also. The merch men were highly amused. The venue was packed and the smell of rock boys hit me instantly when we walked in. Much to my surprise, the crowd was composed mainly of men. I've always thought of Lacuna Coil as a sort of girly band, but now that I know they're not it makes me like them even more. We got drinks, they were expensive, the barman was rude, and we waited for the band to hit the stage. Luckily, they did about five minutes later (by which stage we'd managed to easily wriggle our way to the front of the crowd, sandwiched between big metal dudes on either side).

After most of the band were assembled onstage and the ghostly singing at the start of I Survive was blasting out of the speakers, Andrea appeared, quickly followed by Cristina, who was wearing a black and white striped, pleather tailcoat, over a black leotard emblazoned with shiny red diamante patterns in the shape of a cross, black tights and boots. She changed her outfit twice after that, the first time she put on a black suit jacket and the second she put on a red and black skirt and black blazer. She looked, as always, INCREDIBLE - sexy, feminine and metal, just like she always does. Andrea was sort of matching in a black T-shirt with red diamante detail, jeans and a black blazer (he also had a dollar sign belt buckle that spun, which the emo got a huge kick out of). They complimented each other, as usual, in more ways than one.

The opener set the tone for the night. I Survive, the first single from Shallow Life, was thundering, perfectly pitched and so, so loud live that my ears felt as if they might fall off (in a good way). They kept up this momentum for the entire show, with Scabbia throwing herself around the stage, headbanging and dancing to the beat like only she can. She and Andrea played off each other's energies, taking a side of the stage each and commanding it, before switching and greeting those on the other side. They high-fived everybody within reach and apologised about a hundred times for not coming back sooner. They were probably a bit shocked by the enthusiasm of the crowd, given that the venue itself is quite small and it wasn't a sold out show. It felt like it in the end, though. The enthusiasm was infectious.

The set comprised mostly of the standout tracks from Shalllow Life, such as The Maze, I'm Not Afraid and I Won't Tell You and Karmacode, like To The Edge, Fragile and Closer. They also threw out a few old-school tracks, such as the awesome Senzafine, Heaven's A Lie and Daylight Dancer. As always seems to happen to me at gigs, I ended up stuck next to the ignorant prick who knew none of the songs and grabbed my ass for most of the show. I got away from him after a bit, although the emo wanted to hit him.

The band left the stage twice before the encore but the great thing about the Academy, as opposed to the O2, is that one can see the band hiding at the side of the stage before they come back on, so there's none of that bullshit waiting around time when eejits start impatiently singing Ole ole ole (although they still did, much to my annoyance). It really is an excellent venue. Last time I was there was for the Kerrang! Relentless tour, with Bring Me The Horizon and Mindless Self Indulgence. That was a great gig too, but the crowd was so young. Lacuna Coil was strictly over 18s (many emos were being refused at the door) so it had a more mature crowd, which at times was slightly irritating because they wouldn't move, but once the pit opened up it was a pretty awesome crowd to be a part of.

The last song of the set, before the encore, was their cover of Depeche Mode's Enjoy the Silence. Seeing as it was from Karmacode, I wasn't expecting them to play it at all and I was so excited when they did. The atmosphere became electric during it and Cristina's vocals gave me goosebumps. It was followed by a superb encore consisting of two of the best songs off Shallow Life - Not Enough (my favourite from the album) and Spellbound, and one of their biggest singles to date, from Karmacode, Our Truth. Although everybody went mental during the two from Shallow Life, it was Our Truth that really brought the house down. I thought I was going to break my neck and the pit got particularly rough during it too, which was kick ass. They exited the stage to rapturous applause and deafening screams and I was left dying for more.

My throat hurt like hell, my neck is still recovering and the emo gave me shit for dancing at a metal gig (if Cristina does it, then it's okay for me to do it) but it was one of the best I've ever been to, not to mention an awesome start to 2010. The only downside was that they didn't play Swamped, one of my favourite tracks by them. But other than that, it was a perfect show. The energy only dipped slightly during Wide Awake, the one slow song of the night, but it picked up straight afterwards with To The Edge so I barely even noticed.

Overall, an awesome gig from a tight, often underrated band that hopefully I won't have to wait another four years to see again!

Song of the day: Lacuna Coil - I Survive.

All the best lies, they are told with fingers tied, so cross them tight, won't you promise me tonight?

2010-01-18T14:01:00.004+01:00

Only two and a half weeks into the new year and already I've been involved in a semi-drunken argument in a bar. What are the chances!? Actually, they're quite high given the last two years of my life... I should be used to this shit by now, but I'm not.

My reputation precedes me, it seems, as my good bud Noodles was informed by a chick I will call P (no relation to her real name) that she had heard a lot of shit about me, was willing to give me a chance, but then realised everything she'd heard was true after I'd given her the finger and yelled at her, completely unprovoked. How terrible! And it does so sound like something I would do completely unprovoked in a bar to someone I didn't know.

For those who know me, that story doesn't seem likely. What does seem likely, is that P guessed I'd be an easy target because she, like a complete fucking idiot, believed what she heard about me. And she wanted to prove that it was all true, which it most certainly is not.

I've never seen anybody use two fingers to say "fuck you" except for on Father Ted, but apparently that's exactly what I did; while I was rubbing Dill's back with my right hand, no less - I must be some sort of contortionist to have pulled that off! P also claimed I had yelled at her (presumably over the music, which was pretty loud). What actually happened was that she was making fun of Dill for being drunkenly sick and I told her that I could hear her, in an effort to shut her up. That was it. Why would I do anything else besides tell her to stop making fun of my friend? It makes no sense. But, sadly, in the twisted world of my reputation, it does. She admitted to Noodles that she'd been making fun of Dill, but that she'd realised after a little bit how mean she was being and then she'd stopped. Now that, no matter who is making the claim, is utter bullshit. How many of us have ever realised how mean we were being while in the middle of a good bitch session and then just stopped? Maybe one realises afterwards, but bitching and making fun of people, by their nature, are mean things to do.

Once Noodles checked with me to see what really happened (not believing her rather stupid story either), I confronted her and told her that she was full of shit but that I was sorry if I'd upset her and, naturally, she tried for a long while thereafter to pick a fight with me. Most people I know have had a misunderstanding with somebody, have overreacted to something or have simply read somebody's attitude or demeanour wrong. We are human, we get upset over stupid shit. The difference is, usually people admit as such, apologise and get on with it.

But, of course, we're not talking about most people here. We're talking about those who, for some unknown reason, enjoy bitching, backstabbing and causing shit above all else. Those who have very little else in their lives and go on and on and on about how Goth/metal/alternative/unique they are, how smart, how well-read, how worldly...the list goes on and on, and it's boring. All of it. I know several people who belong to one such group, all women, and the claims they make are utterly ridiculous - one of the best being that it's okay to cheat, hook up with several people in one night even if some of them are in relationships, and sleep around because it's their right to do so and they have free will. These people cannot be reasoned with, they cannot be proven wrong and they cannot be spoken to in a normal manner, the way one would speak with someone else. I usually avoid them at all costs, but like I said I'm an easy target and sometimes they slip through the cracks to try to get a rise out of me. It has yet to work, thank fuck.

My problem isn't even the fact that P picked a fight with me, or that anybody else does for that matter. It's that, to this day, fucking TWO YEARS LATER, some people are still unwilling to give me a chance because of something they've heard about me. And I don't deserve this reputation. I know that I can be loud, outspoken, opinionated - but I am also always honest and open, which I'm beginning to think is what really bugs people about me. I've learned, over the past while, that a lot of people feel more comfortable when their lives are cushioned by lies and fabricated stories, by drama borne out of nothing and by careless judgements made about people they don't know. I can't understand that, but I've accepted that that is the way that certain people are. And the way to truly irritate those people is to be honest, polite and not give them what they want. Because we all know that what P really wanted was for people to witness me in action, yelling at her and being a total bitch while she sat back and feigned being upset, because that way, she could prove that my reputation is well-deserved.

Sadly, she didn't get what she wanted, although she tried very hard to provoke me. She also ended up being slumped over the table herself, in the exact same position Dill had been only an hour earlier. I helped carry her a bit of the way out. Karma's a bitch I guess, but I'm not holding anything against anybody. That's just not who I am anymore, and it's really not worth my time and effort.

So! The year has started off with a bang, but at least I didn't fall back into my old ways. We all have to grow up some time, and being in one's twenties is probably the time to do that...

Oh, and one more thing. Shouldn't P really have been bothered, not by what she heard about me, but by the fact that some guy she pulled in a bar, or even a new friend, or whatever, could talk about nothing but how much of a bitch his ex was, how much she hurt him and how everybody should see her for who she truly is..? I'd be pretty bored, not to mention slightly unsettled, by somebody I'd just met, or known for a short while, acting like that. Just a thought.

Song of the day: Paramore - Feeling Sorry.

As good as it gets

2010-01-04T22:37:00.004+01:00

2010 is off to a great start, I'm very glad to say. Although I was stranded in Bray for the first two days of it, eventually having to trek home through feet of snow last night in CONVERSE (fun fun fun), I did get to spend some quality time in bed with the emo. And his lovely family kept me warm and fed, so it wasn't the worst way to spend the weekend...

New Year's in Noodles' was deadly. We had cocktails, danced to The Offspring, played drinking games and even rang in the new year with a snowball fight. I wore grey skinny jeans and my new, fucking AWESOME Bring Me The Horizon T-shirt. Scooby said I looked very "girlie punk rock", which was hilarious because I'm anything but. It was kinda weird to ring in the New Year in jeans, but I was with some awesome people so having a new dress didn't feel as important anymore. She got me a giant Slipknot poster and a Mighty Boosh calendar for Christmas, which was awesome except that I then had to carry them home through the snow...I got some weird looks, but that's nothing new.

In case I haven't mentioned it, I lost my wallet on Christmas Eve. I was devastated, not because of money but due to the amount of memories contained within it (mostly from my time in Munich) and my cards, which would be fairly difficult to replace, especially in the case of my student card. ANYWAY, today I made my way very slow through the snow to the Garda station and retrieved it. A very nice Garda had called last week to tell me he had it safe in a locker and that I could come get it whenever. So I got it back, with everything in it (including my pathetic tenner), but sadly there was no record of who had handed it in so I couldn't say thank you. My grandparents had assured me, when I lost it, that it would turn up because most people are good and I'm a good person, so I deserve it, etc, etc. I didn't really buy it at the time, but now I think I kinda do...

When I was about 17 years old, I remember stealing money from a wallet with several of my friends and then leaving it empty without even handing it in. Each person involved in that robbery has had his/her wallet stolen since then, and not returned. I was the last to fall victim to it, only I got mine back. I wonder why. Maybe my good karma is outweighing the bad, maybe I'm being rewarded for trying so hard, I don't know. I don't consider myself to be particularly pure or selfless. I mean, I can be at times, but so can most people. I just wonder what I did to deserve it...but I suppose I shouldn't wonder, I ought to just accept it and be grateful (which I am - very!).

I have a feeling this year is going to kick ass. I'm about to radically change my appearance, which scares the shit out of me but I'm ready to do it and I'm excited to do it at the same time. That will be the first big change. There will be many more. I aim to be positive, to believe in myself, to try my hardest and, above all else, to be happy. This year is going to rock, if the first few days are anything to go by... I'm so excited!

Song of the day: Lostprophets -End of the world.

Why 2009 was fucking awesome

2009-12-30T21:06:00.017+01:00

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

2009-12-13T14:54:00.003+01:00

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

2009-12-07T20:42:00.003+01:00

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!?

2009-11-25T19:57:00.007+01:00

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'?

2009-11-16T20:37:00.005+01:00

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!

2009-11-04T22:46:00.003+01:00

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

2009-11-01T20:07:00.003+01:00

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

2009-10-15T20:38:00.004+02:00

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

2009-10-07T16:50:00.003+02:00

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...

2009-09-29T21:08:00.002+02:00

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

2009-09-27T19:14:00.004+02:00

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.

Let the games begin

2009-09-22T16:29:00.002+02:00

So, my final year began yesterday. That is to say I had one German class yesterday, and then today had one class about the dreaded dissertation, but either way it has begun! So far, it's been really good fun and really overwhelming at the same time. It's been great to see everybody again and hanging out with Saz every day is awesome. But the work is already piling up and I'm starting to get a bit worried. I have to get first class honours in this degree, I just have to!

I can't believe this is my final year... It went by so fast and I honestly didn't think I'd get this far. But I'm so glad that I have. I'll probably have more to write in here once the week is over and I've begun to think of dissertation ideas and try to choose between radio and print.. My heart is in print, but radio was great fun last year and really interesting too.. It's a tough one. Still, plenty of time to decide.

Now I have to stop writing and start getting ready for my date with the emo. Oh, there's another decision I have to make. Shit.

I finished Scott Pilgrim number four on the way home today, but I'm reluctant to begin reading the second last one because the final part isn't out till January.. I don't want it to be over!!! Nor do I want to wait for the sixth instalment.

Okay, shower time. Man, I'm interesting.

Song of the day: Radiohead - 15 Step.

Blogging from Wicklow

2009-09-11T13:09:00.002+02:00

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).

Cardio isn't always a good idea while hungover

2009-09-04T21:33:00.002+02:00

I somehow managed to get my assignments done and handed in yesterday, surprisingly enough with one day to spare. I got to catch up with the lads I was in Munich with too, which was pretty cool. The thought of going back to college and actually finishing up my degree is so intimidating, but I'm also really, really excited for it! Plus hanging out with Saz every day again is going to be awesome!

Last night, I was reminded once again that I have the best friends in the world. Seeing as I am skint as hell right now, Tar decided to take me out and get me drunk, no strings attached, so that I could celebrate handing in my assignments in style. I got Noodles in on the act, and seeing as Star was swinging by with her crew, we ended up with a pretty good crowd. Sticky was there, the metal kids (one of whose bracelets I took..oops!), Seamo, etc, etc. It was fucking awesome. We drank the bar dry and danced the night away, and best of all, there was no trouble. Everybody got along and partied, nobody was sick or upset, and everyone went home smiling.

At one point, Noodles and I were reminiscing in the beer garden about an old friend of his (and ex friend of mine). It's a long and boring story, but suffice to say some hard drugs and a few choice words ended a bond between two lads who were once described as being almost like brothers. I described this guy as the Mewes to Noodles' Kevin Smith, a comparison he agrees with without completely understanding what it means (not a big Kev Smith fan). I asked if he missed him and he shrugged. He said he misses the old him. I kind of do too, as much as I hate to admit it. But we all have to grow up some time. I don't know what I'd do if I ever saw him again. It'd be interesting.

There were also a few isolated incidents with somebody coming onto me a bit too strong, which pissed Noodles and Tar off no end. As much as they like to pretend otherwise, they are fiercely protective of me sometimes. They can't really help it, bless them. They tried their best to keep a distance between this dude and I, and they did pretty well for the most part. I felt quite objectified, but I handled it and so did the lads (another example of how fantastic my friends are). It was a slight glitch on an otherwise perfect night.

Noodles and I had the bus home to ourselves, so we had another d&m on the trip. And then we sat outside the emo's house and tried to push each other over until he came out, dripping wet from the shower he'd just had, to pull me inside and have his way with me.

I was annoyed at having to get up this morning and drag my ass into town to see an old friend, but I was so glad I did in the end. It was great to catch up. My mother had a go at me for my walk of shame outfit as soon as I got in the door, but then she fed me (cos apparently I'm looking "...thinner by the minute") so I'll let her away with it.

Now I'm exhausted and regretting that jog I just had... I think it's time to get into bed with some herbal tea. Fuck, I'm such an old woman!

Song of the day: Radiohead - All I Need.

I now look like even more of a boy

2009-08-31T16:24:00.004+02:00

So, I got my hair cut on Thursday. In the end, it wasn't too painful an experience. My hair was starting to fall out and really look like shit, so in the end length didn't mean anything to me. I'd rather have shorter, healthy hair, than long, shitty hair that is comprised mainly of split ends. So I found a haircut I liked, brought a pic into the hairdresser like a loser and got it done (after making sure it'd suit my face, which I'm still not sure it does). No photos, because the only one I got makes me look a bit mental (yes, more mental than usual) but maybe soon. Maybe. I hate photos of me...urgh...

I went out that night but I was feeling a bit ill after my mother forced me to throw my dinner into me, so I didn't drink enough and then I was weirded out by how different the bar looks when I'm sober. I still had fun, but there were some problems along the way. Noodles drank too much and thought I was mad at him or something, so he yelled at me in front of everyone. These people turned up who hate me, so they were being assholes all night instead of enjoying themselves like they should've been. Star, Dylan and the emo were all in the same place at once and somehow managed not to kill each other (a miracle in itself) but there was definitely tension. Stella and Frodo had a fight, too. It's weird to see perfect couples fight.. All's well that ends well though, cos everything's sorted now. I think we had a fun night anyway.

I spent pretty much the whole weekend with the emo. He came over on Friday to bring something he drew for my sister, but he ended up not being able to print it which left lots of time for him to end his lengthy feud with my mother. Now, I'm not stupid. I know my mother is a head case. I mean, she has OCD, my brother is definitely her favourite, she has unresolved issues with her mother and older sister that she takes out on me, etc, etc. But she's still a damn good mother and a good person, so her fighting with my lovely emo hasn't been easy. Luckily, they made up and everything is fixed now. Yey! She was well impressed with him afterwards, too, which means a lot to me because she's a great judge of character (even though I don't always listen to her advice).

He left a copy of the fourth instalment of Scott Pilgrim under my pillow, but I found it while he was still there and so he thought the surprise was ruined when it really wasn't. He's so sweet it's almost unbelievable! He and I hung out on Saturday too, which was so much fun. I really, really like him.

I will spend quality time with Star soon, though. I have to figure shit out, especially since she's moved out of that awful house.

I really should get back to work. 1,000 words into my project report. Woo!

Song of the day: Marilyn Manson - Devour.

“Fashion is all about eventually becoming naked”

2009-08-25T17:20:00.002+02:00

I love this quote, although I can't find who said it anywhere (which sucks) but still I think it's great. I don't know if it's a reference to humanity going backwards, or if it's simply that one's clothes should attract somebody enough that that person then wants to get one naked... I dunno, I dunno, but I like it very much. I don't really understand fashion, but I love it.

I am exactly 1,621 words into an essay I started two hours ago. So I'm not doing too badly, but the end won't be in sight for a bit longer. I have more research to do, including articles and books to read, photos to find, quotes to digest and apply (not the one above, although I'd love to be cheeky enough to add it in). I've got a long night ahead of me, but I doubt I'll get much done over the next few days so it's going to be totally worth it. My final year is in sight and it's going to kick ass (as long as I get all of this shit done first!).

Although this article or whatever (even though writing an article of 1,500-2,000 words is simply ridiculous) is going well, writing and researching is kind of pissing me off because it's reminding me that I haven't been able to afford Vogue in about six months, which is so irritating. I'm not a slave to fashion, nor do I follow trends, and that probably goes without saying if you've ever met me even once. I don't think I'm necessarily unique or one of a kind in the way that I dress. I like what I like and that's it. If it's alternative, fair enough. If it's high street, that's cool too. If it's a black Chanel bag, I'm definitely not going to say no! I get the piss ripped out of me on a regular basis by my guy friends for reading it, but the reason I love Vogue is because I find it interesting and the pictures are beautiful. And, believe it or not, the articles are usually damn good too. I read a bit of the German edition while I was in Munich, but like I said I could never afford to buy it (too much money on booze and trips all over Europe) so it kind of sucked. I really wanted to bring a copy back with me.

Usually, I read British Vogue because it's my favourite one. Agyness Deyn tends to be in it a lot too. If I had her face, I'd definitely cut my hair that short but sadly I don't. I'm really dreading the hairdresser's. I keep having nightmares about it. Maybe they'll have a copy of Vogue floating around...hmm...

I should get back to work and trawl through some more stuff. I hate typing on my knees. Why oh why did my mother throw out my desk chair!?

Song of the day: Linkin Park - Lying from you.

I still haven't done any work

2009-08-23T19:57:00.002+02:00

Actually, no, that's kind of a lie. I finished the first draft of the tenth chapter of...my story? I dunno what to refer to it as. That thing I write in the vain hope that, someday, some loon will publish it and make all of my dreams come true! Yeah, so I wrote up the first draft of that on Friday night (yup, living the life) and sent it off to Noodles and the emo, two of my fiercest critics (not fierce in that they hate it, but fierce meaning that they are completely honest with me no matter what). They read it and reported back with what they liked/disliked about it. One of my biggest problems, I think, is dialogue. I hate writing it because, no matter how hard I try, it never reads like a real-life conversation to me. Of course, others disagree. But I'm a perfectionist. So I'll shut up about it now, lest I begin to irritate myself. But I shall rewrite it tonight anyway, and then see what they think. Again.

Last night, the emo took me out to this restaurant in Bray where I had the BEST pizza I have ever had (mozzarella, tomatoes, rocket and parmesan shavings - delish!). The guy eats fucking nothing, so I always feel like a total pig around him. It doesn't stop me eating though...ahem... We had a fantastic time. I got invited to a party with some of the druggie people afterwards, but I blew it off to watch The Breakfast Club (which has my favourite movie kiss ever) with the emo and snuggle up. It sounds really pathetic of me, but I'm so skint right now that I can barely even afford to drink. And people constantly paying for me just pisses me off. I cannot WAIT until I am making my own money again...grr...

In other news, I'm going to the hairdresser next week despite the fact I have enough bleach to do my roots twice more, and hadn't planned on going again until Christmas. My mother hates my hair, and has booked me in to get it "fixed" on Thursday. She's pissed off that, let's face it, I don't look the way most so-called normal daughters do, and she's a bit of a control freak, so she's decided that my hair needs to change or I must shave my head. I don't want to change the colour, because I love it. I don't want to cut it, because I think any shorter just wouldn't suit me. So it remains to be seen what my hairdresser is going to do on Thursday, but either way it's going to be interesting. It's my own fault for bleaching the shit out of it, I suppose. I just love it so much, I can't seem to stop... Alas, my mother has made up her mind. And when that happens, as it so often does, there's no talking to her. So I suppose I'll just have to sit back and take it.

I really have to start that project...

Or maybe I'll just stare into space for a bit...

Song of the day: Linkin Park - Papercut.

I don't want to fall in love...with you

2009-08-19T23:36:00.004+02:00

What a strange few days it has been. I really should've got more work done. Oh well, life is for living after all! God everybody must be so sick of that philosophy. I think my new one will be "Shit happens" or some other rubbish. Yup.

I was sitting on the bus home earlier this evening, listening to Corey Taylor's excellent cover of Chris Isaak's classic love song Wicked Game, when I realised that, as much as I like to deny it, I am absolutely crazy about my little emo. I know, I know, I've spent the last few months pretending like it's just a physical thing, or that I don't believe in love anymore, or whatever. But when it comes down to it, I really do adore him and his mad little head.

And it's not just because we had such a lovely day together, not to mention a great date on Saturday, or because his mother loves and accepts me, or his little sis tries to impress me with her knowledge of alternative culture, or that all of my friends adore him or that he thinks I'm the most gorgeous girl in the world and makes me feel it every second we're together...or that he's so handsome and so kooky and he makes me laugh and... Okay, scratch that, there are lots of reasons why I adore him. But there are just these moments when I realise it and could not and would not want to deny how fantastic it is.

I ran into a chick from college on the street earlier, and I'm pretty sure she thought me and the emo were going out because we were holding hands at the time. I hate holding hands, it reminds me of a time when I bought into the idea that love was all I needed (despite giving giving giving and getting very little in return), but I let him hold my hand every now and again because he loves it. Bless his heart, he is a true romantic. He got paid a ridiculous amount of money today and, after getting himself lots of new comics, a Slipknot wallet and a Mighty Boosh tee, he surprised me in Sub City with a copy of the third instalment of Scott Pilgrim Versus The World (soon to be a film starring the adorable Michael Cera in the lead role). I melted, which gave the comic book guy a good laugh. "Nothing more romantic than buying a girl a comic book" he quipped. I assured him I thought it very romantic.

There are times, when he goes on and on about nerdy shit like Final Fantasy and gothic comic books and trolling on YouTube, that I just sit back and drink his words in, feeling so unbelievably grateful to have somebody who not only loves to talk as much as me, but loves to listen too. Because he listens to all of my bullshit. And, according to him, he loves to hear it. Which is very different for me, at least with a love interest. Friends are different, of course. Friends bullshit with each other all the time. Noodles and I have been known to sit in Butler's for hours, discussing anything and everything over an endless supply of hot chocolates. But this is different. Very different.

Oh this is turning into such a mushy blog... I don't even know where any of this in coming from, because fuck knows I am not ready to settle down just yet. I still believe in monogamy, of course, but a relationship is going to be a huge deal for me. And I want to be sure, I want it to be right. But if there is anybody who can convince me, it is him.

Now let's pretend this side of me never reared its' mushy little head!!! Ahem.

Song of the day: Stone Sour - Wicked Game.

Bleh....

2009-08-14T22:53:00.002+02:00

I'm so fucking hungover right now, it's not even funny.

It's ten o'clock at night and I'm still recovering from last night - isn't that dreadful? My brother told me yesterday that I'm too old to be going out and getting wasted, but I completely disagree with him. I love getting pissed. Not on a weekly basis, mind, but being out of my mind is so much fun because usually I'm just sifting through the ridiculous amount of thoughts swirling around in my head at any one time. And being completely out of it eliminates all of that bullshit.

I sound like I have a problem. Shit.

So, yesterday was my first night out in this wonderful city since I've been back, and it was fucking EPIC. Noodles and I did pre-drinks in our usual spot, despite the fading daylight, managing to knock back a nagin of vodka each in less than an hour.

We saw two typical Dublin characters while we were sitting there. One was an old man on a bike with a fancy hat and a can of cider as accessories. He sat in a bush. The other was a slightly older man with a big grey beard, who thought it highly amusing to rob the other man's hat when he wasn't looking and run off with it down the street. Of course, he was caught and had to return it, but it was still funny all the same. And the man who he took it from didn't seem to mind, either. I missed the mad Dublin characters. They give this city such a different feel to any other city I've visited. It's fantastic.

Anyway, pre-drinks probably weren't the best idea because, by about 11PM, I was completely and utterly wasted. Luckily, it was a nice kind of wasted. No tears, no bullshit, just drinking and good music and great company and fun! I made friends with, and was attemptedly pulled by (as in, there was a five second kiss before I pulled away in disgust) this French lad in a top hat. That was fairly random. The druggie peeps told me all about their coke adventures on the night bus and tried to drag me home with them (again). That was even more random. The emo purposely smashed a glass, was kicked out of the bar and spent the next two hours sitting on O'Connell street with his bud who I have yet to hang out with sober. And lots of other mad shit happened that I can hardly even remember.

Having said all of that, and even despite how fucking ill I am now and have been all day, the night was a complete success. There were no fights, no so-called "drama", nobody turned up to stare at anybody from across the room menacingly (poor Scooby - I thought I was the only one that happened to!), nobody tried to stir shit up or piss anybody off, and, with the exception of the emo being kicked out of the place, we all managed to have a fucking great time and go home smiling! There are definite blanks in my memory, some of which were filled in by Noodles earlier on today en route to some greasy food and a couple of bottles of Coke. We were in stitches, even though I was leaning out the car window hoping I wouldn't vomit. I know, I know, I'm so fancy. There's nothing like laughing off all the mad shit one has done the morning after with a good friend. And it's so nice to have good friends. I got so used to being treated like shit that it still feels strange to be surrounded by such wonderful people, who get me and vice versa.

Also, the emo got a new dog this morning, and thought it'd be a good idea to bring it in to me in bed to say hello. Luckily, the thing is a tiny puppy, otherwise I would've freaked out big time. I'm terrified of dogs. Of course, Munich was full of them, and Saz had me saying "Hallo" to all of em on the street by the end of the trip. But even so, the emo's new puppy was the first dog I've ever properly held. And it was scary. His other dog was put down yesterday, so he wasn't in the best mood, but I think the new pup cheered him up a bit. I'm dying to get a cat, but my mother hates them.

Urgh...I feel like my head is going to fall off... Time to wrap this up and hop into bed with some green tea. I'm such an old woman. Oh god.

Song of the day: Marilyn Manson - Rock is Dead.

Ramble ramble ramble

2009-08-10T20:33:00.003+02:00

I spent two hours on the bus today. Well, actually it was split between three different buses. But still, either way, it was a long time to be on the bus, alone, with nothing but my own thoughts as company. I listened to a lot of Radiohead and tried to brainstorm ideas for my story, which is almost finished but needs a last big kick up the arse if it's to be ready by Christmas (I set myself a deadline, cos otherwise I wouldn't do enough work on it). I did that, and I stared out the window and I thought about the weekend, which was fairly uneventful but still not entirely shite. When I got to the city, I got a hot chocolate from Butler's. I really missed those when I was in Munich.

Anyway, I spent most of Saturday afternoon wandering around the city with my mother, sister and my mother's new boyfriend, a Geordie called Michael whom I was meeting for the first time. He was lovely, and had no problem slagging the shit out of us and taking it back in return. He made my mother laugh, even though she was shushing me every five seconds because apparently I was being too loud (something the emo loves about me, he told me later - and no that is not meant to sound dirty). It's nice to see her happy. I've spent most of my life watching her slave away for my father, who never appreciated anything she did for him. He used to stumble home drunk every single weekend, among other things, and never bothered even making half of an effort with any of us. So it's nice to her happy. Really nice.

Noodles came over that night. We watched movies and chatted loads, especially about some of our friends who have recently got much further into drugs than we ever expected them to, thus worrying us considerably. It'd be hypocritical of me to say anything about drugs being bad, because fuck knows I've done enough of em (and still do), but there's a certain line I wouldn't cross. And sadly, they have crossed it and now we're worried they won't come back. But I haven't seen any of them yet, so I'm reserving judgement until I do. But it doesn't look good.

On Sunday, I went to a big family thing with the emo (his family, not mine). I was very nervous, even more so since my mother warned me to dress girly and cover up my tatts beforehand. I did so, thinking her more knowledgeable about such things than me. I needn't have bothered. The party we went to was in far out Wicklow, in the house of the coolest little rock 'n' roll family I've ever met. The dad had long hair and a beard and named one of his kids Hendrick (after Hendrix, I am told) which was awesome. There was a ticket to the Tom Waits' gig last year on tacked up on the wall and more CDs than I could count. Everybody was so nice, especially the emo's cute little grandparents. His grandmother even referred to me as "lovely" and "gorgeous" which I don't usually get from older people. We chatted with little 18-year-old rock kids most of the time, all of whom were drooling over all of the gigs we'd been to and cool shit we'd done. They were adorable. It was so much fun. And the emo and I managed not only to sleep in the same bed despite being banned from doing so, but to do other stuff too (hee hee hee).

I dropped into work on my way home today, thinking it the best time seeing as I was dressed far more girly than I usually am on account of the party yesterday. It didn't go too badly, although I'd just missed my boss (or ex-boss, rather) by a couple of minutes, so I had to leave a note for her. I'm just praying that I get my job back. I loved it so much there and it was so perfect for me. Fingers crossed, I guess.

My mother thinks I need to change my hair. I kind of agree with her, but I want it longer first of all. I love it bleached blonde, but it is a lot of upkeep and I'm just waiting for the day when I wake up bald... Still, I want to grow it a bit more first... I'll have to think about it a lot. I can't really afford it now either.

That was probably really boring.

Time for some more Radiohead, I think.

Oh, and writing. Lots and lots of writing.

Song of the day: Radiohead - The Bends.

I have way too many thoughts at once

2009-08-07T23:03:00.003+02:00

So, I'm back in what passes for my home these days. It feels weird, but that's only to be expected.

I was away for almost a week after a ridiculous row with my mother. I then felt terrible for setting a bad example for my younger, much wiser sister and urged her not to do the same. I went to Wicklow, where I so often find myself, and stayed with two of my best friends, alternating between their houses so as not to overstay my welcome. Both sets of parents were away, so it was a pretty easy job. Nobody knew, or cared, where I was so I got some time alone with my buds to try to sort out my head. My mother texted after two days and I told her I needed some time.

When I arrived home earlier this evening, I found a stick of rock on my bed which read "Gift from Bray". It was odd in more ways than one.

I tried Absinthe for the first time the other night and it was disgusting. Luckily, the emo had enough drugs and Noodles had enough Merlot to get me out of my mind each and every night I was away, so the icky green stuff wasn't really needed (although I still drank it).

I managed to get a shitload of music while I was there too, including a Radiohead live album that is beyond awesome. I'm told I talk about Radiohead too much, especially about their gig last summer. I don't intend to stop any time soon (mostly because I don't think I'd be able to) but I will say that Slipknot at Rock im Park came very close to being even better than that particular gig. I managed to get the full video of them playing at Rock am Ring, so I'll probably end up blogging about that in the near future. A lot.

Oh, and let's not forget my obsession with '80s goth. Siouxsie, in particular, is rocking my world right now. I listened to her the whole way back to Dublin earlier on. I love her so much, both her solo stuff and the shit with the Banshees. I want to get a Siouxsie tee, a big one that I can cut up and turn into a dress (much like my oversized Enslaved tee that I sadly left in Noodles') but I'm limited by the designs. I may just give in and buy one next week so I've something awesome to wear for my sort of makeshift welcome back thing, but I dunno yet.

That paragraph was so irrelevant.

I was walking past Topshop earlier and fell in love with a black dress in the window. Of course, knowing their prices, I won't be able to afford the hanger it's displayed on. But I can dream. It'll be nice to have money again soon. But for the moment, I can't buy anything that is not absolutely necessary, which sucks. Although vodka will definitely be the exception.

I'm going to a barbecue with all of the emo's family on Sunday and I am TERRIFIED. People's parents generally don't like the look of me, nor do they like the sound of my voice or my general attitude. Parents think I'm a bit of a loose cannon, and that I'll corrupt their kids, which is a fair assessment I suppose.. But I'm a nice enough person once you get past the way I look. Noodles' dad referred to me and the emo the other day as "Two goths who came to the door - a blonde girl and some sort of...thing" which I found highly amusing.

I fear that the emo is becoming slightly obsessed with me, which is worrying but I'm much too close to him to pull away now. I don't know how I'd survive without his madness.

I am avoiding seeing Star for the moment, seeing as I've not settled in enough to let myself get completely wasted beyond belief just yet. But soon. I've realised that quite often things are complicated by other people, as opposed to the two people involved in the relationship/non-relationship/whatever. It's really shit, but that's life I suppose. If only we didn't live in this society of celebrity and gossip and bitchiness.

Yet here I am blogging.

This live album is amazing...

Song of the day: Siouxsie and the Banshees - Happy House.

Whiskey in the Jar (-oh)

2009-08-02T16:16:00.005+02:00

There was a moment last night, when Metallica launched into their superb (I think, anyway) cover of Whiskey In The Jar only two songs into their set - very out of character for them - that I turned to Noodles, my best friend whom I hadn't hung out with in five months, and told him happily that "This is the moment I am truly welcomed back to Dublin". He laughed, I laughed. And then some prick lunged into my side and I spent the next few minutes pulling his hair until I got distracted by the song again and started bopping along once more. It was a fantastic gig, not least because I was finally hanging out with Noodles but also due to the fact that I felt at home again (something I have not felt very often since I returned, I'm sorry to say).

My mother began arguing with me the moment I got in the door. She hates the emo, mainly because he made my brother (whose arse the sun shines out of no matter how much he fucks up) look bad. Fact is, he was being a good friend to me. And I don't blame my brother for what was simply a misunderstanding. Unfortunately, she blames my friend. Which is bollocks, because she doesn't know him and has not tried to get to know him. I understand where she's coming from, to a certain extent. But I have tried to see her point and I've apologised and she still won't meet me halfway. Now he owes her an apology, and he is willing to say sorry purely for my sake, not hers, which is a testament to how good of a friend he is to me. I wish he didn't have to do it, but if it'll shut her up (which, to be honest, it probably won't), I'm willing to give it a shot.

My bedroom is no longer mine. It has been torn to shreds and now looks and feels like a guestroom. I know where nothing is and everything feels alien to me. The first (and only) night I was back in here, I didn't sleep a wink. I yearned for my flat in Munich, all of which was mine. This place feels like nothing to me now, it's like being a guest somewhere I've never even been before. Since this, for some bizarre reason, is to my mother a more difficult transition for my brother than for me, all efforts are being made to make sure he settles back in well while I am left the outsider.

Before I left, I thought my mother and I were making progress. When my father left, she allocated the head of the dining room table (where family dinner is held every Sunday afternoon) to me, citing my being the eldest as the main reason, and of course the fact that since my father was gone, there was no reason why two women couldn't be the heads of the house. I was impressed with her, she was finally rewarding me for being a damn good kid, which I am (what I do in my private life is another story, but what she doesn't know won't hurt her).

Now, my brother is sitting at the head of the table. I questioned her about it, and she replied "Ah leave him, we can't take everything away from him" referring of course to the fact he'd lived in my room while I was away and is now back in his own bedroom. "Oh, but it's okay to take it away from me?" I asked in response. And her stony silence spoke volumes, as always.

I'm not pissed off at my brother for being the favourite, I'm pissed off because he has done nothing to achieve such a feat and also doesn't acknowledge the fact that this is wrong and he should be speaking up about it. Maybe I'd stay silent in his position too, lap up the attention and the praise for doing basically nothing. Instead, I am resigned to another year (at least, depending on how quickly I can get out of here again) of trying my hardest at everything I do and being close to ignored regardless. I'm not even complaining about it, because I'm used to it at this stage. And I know I shouldn't be shocked by her behaviour, but I am. And it fucking hurts.

Luckily, I haven't been stuck here for the past two days. I was at Metallica all day yesterday, rocking out and catching up with Noodles who I have missed more than words can express. It was so great to just hang out with him and hear all of his stories again. It makes me so excited to see everybody else (although I have to wait another week to see Scooby - boo!). He's got a free house starting tomorrow, so it'll be the perfect opportunity to catch up with everybody. And I can't fucking wait. If there's one thing that is great about being back here, it's that I get to see all of my amazing friends again.

I slept in the emo's house last night and the night before. On Friday, he cooked me my favourite dinner, with candles and a bottle of Merlot (my favourite wine), which is probably the most romantic thing anybody has ever done for me. Afterwards, we watched Chasing Amy (the only Kevin Smith movie I had yet to see, which was awesome), took a bath, fucked, got stoned, talked, and slept in each other's arms. It was perfect. The following night, we had Chinese food at 3AM after Metallica, got stoned and fell asleep again. I was made late for dinner today by his insistence upon indulging in some fantastic Sunday sex (a tradition I am most fond of), which I was very happy to give in to. I feel so lucky to have him, even though I know he'd rather have me as his girlfriend than...his lover, I suppose... But I'll over-complicate things if I start to think about them too much. I just need to live and feel and enjoy. That's what life is all about, after all.

Now I'm tempted to head over to his house again, seeing as I don't really feel at home here anymore. I don't really feel at home anywhere, to be honest. I miss Munich, I miss the life I had there. I know that I've returned to another life, a life I used to love. And a part of me still loves it, a big part of me. Another part of me is really, really excited for what's to come. But the shit with my mother is difficult, and seeing as she won't speak to me as an adult no matter how hard I try just makes it more so. I'm finding it difficult to stay here and try to move forward, but I know that I have to at least try.

I'll shut up now, because people have it way worse than me. Besides, whenever I feel like this I think of Frodo, who has gone through more suffering than anybody else I've ever met and is still one of the most positive, optimistic, yet realistic, happy people I've ever known. He is a true inspiration, and if I could imitate anybody's philosophy on life, it'd be his.

For now, I guess I'll just have to do the best that I can.

Song of the day: Slipknot - Three Nil.

So little fucking time

2009-07-28T18:34:00.002+02:00

I should be finding more time to write in here, given that I've only days left till I head home, but with the amount of things I have to squeeze into such a short space of time, that's become nearly impossible.

Right now, I'm taking a break from packing my massive suitcase (emblazoned with stars, the sister to Saz's heart suitcase) to write that I'm feeling...really, really...numb.

None of this seems real, because, when I first arrived here, I never thought that the five months would go by so quickly, let alone end...

Looking back on all of it, I'm filled with this fear of not having done enough, which is ridiculous! I mean, over the course of five months, I've spent time not only in Munich but in Prague, Augsburg, Nuremberg, Vienna, Berlin... I mean, I've really lived over here. I managed to work out every single day, do aerobics three times a week with Charley (the only woman more comfortable speaking frankly about herself than me), attend university, party till I puked, attend a rock festival, meet loads of wonderful people from all over the world and, of course, grow even closer to one of my best friends (even though we drove each other crazy at times). I can't believe I have to give all of that up now and return to my so-called "real" life.

My mother apparently cannot WAIT to see me. That is, until she sees my hair and third tattoo. Oh, and I break something! Or touch something, for that matter... She has decided that the emo is not allowed in our house anymore, which pisses me off no end. Sometimes she just won't listen to reason, but I know where she's coming from. Any man I get close to (besides Noodles, who is her favourite) is scrutinised because she is so terrified for me (and with good reason). Maybe even more scared than I am. Luckily for her, being in a relationship is the last thing I want to do right now. Still, she's a good mother and a decent human being. I just hope I'll be treated as an adult when I return. Especially since she has a new boyfriend who I have yet to meet...

I've probably grown up more over the past year than in the five years previous to that. I just hope it's recognised when I get back to Dublin.

I can't believe I have to leave this place, this apartment...it feels like home...

I wonder how I'll feel when I've to step out of here for the last time. I hope I don't cry, but I probably will.

I've a lot waiting for me back home, not all of it good. But I can take it. Finally.

Song of the day: Marilyn Manson - WOW.

I'm in pain (the good kind)

2009-07-21T20:54:00.004+02:00

So, I got tattooed today (third one) and it hurt like hell but I'm really happy with it so no complaints here! I've been bandaged up all day long, and I'm dreading having to peel all the crap off and put cream on it cos it's stinging like crazy... Has to be done though.

I love getting tattooed. It hurts so much but it's really good fun too, in a strange way. It's so different to getting pierced, because that is over so quickly and the adrenaline rush is almost immediate. Getting tattooed is different; the pain lasts and the rush comes a bit later. But, in a lot of ways, it's more fun. And in a lot of ways it isn't!

The guy who was doing it today was lovely too, although trying to explain what I wanted in German was kind of difficult. I'm glad I did it though, my confidence has been boosted.

Speaking of tatts, here's a pic of my fave tattooed chick of all time, Kat Von D. Just because.

Yeah, Kat is awesome. I dunno how she got so many tatts done, though, especially because she apparently doesn't take the pain too well. The next one I get is going to be (hopefully) at the end of summer, but it's going to be on my wrist so I'll have to build up to it quite a lot. I think I'll head back to the place I got my first tattoo, even though it was slightly dodgy the people were a lot nicer than the second place I went to...

I love tattoos...

The one I got today represents love of women and love of fetish, which sounds like bullshit but those are two things that are very important to me. I'm really happy with how it turned out. I think I'm gonna go take off these bandages and coo over it a bit... No photos yet because it's too tender and looks quite disgusting at the moment. But soon!

Speaking of love of women, Evan Rachel Wood naked is PERFECTION.

Song of the day: Special K - Placebo.

I hate Facebook

2009-07-17T11:01:00.002+02:00

That's pretty much a given. I think it sucks, and I only have it cos of Erasmus. Anyway, one of the things I hate most about it, is that people keep popping up as "someone you might know". I'm currently involved in some sort of bullshit argument with a friend, over what is basically conjecture. People hear bad shit about me and tend to believe it, don't ask me why. I guess it's easier to hate me. Now this person keeps popping up, as if to say "Fix this!!" but I don't really fancy getting into another fight right now, so for now I'll just ignore it. Or get annoyed every time the photo pops up. Or both. Usually I don't fight with my friends. If we piss each other off, it's discussed and we apologise and get over it. This time, it's different because, as per usual, other people get involved (people who are not fans of mine) and then everything gets blown out of proportion.. Honestly, sometimes I wish I could live under a rock. But that wouldn't be as much fun.

I saw Harry Potter last night and it was fucking AWESOME. There wasn't as much action as the other films, but that's to be expected because the book was so dark. That's what I loved about it though. And the film adapted it really, really well. I don't know who directed it, but whoever it was did a damn good job. It was a good night too, because me and Saz were out with some buds from uni (one of whom is an actual GERMAN, we call him Zorro) which was really good fun. I even managed to choke down a beer, granted it was Becks Green Lemon, in true Munich style!!

Oh, and I discovered the wonders of sweet popcorn, thanks to the Brit who accompanied us to Bruno earlier in the week. Lot of cinema trips this week. Funny, seeing as I'll probably never see another film in that cinema again...

After the film, me and Saz headed home only to discover the U had stopped for the night. We got a Tram to Karlsplatz and another to a street about a half hour from where we live, where there's a great rock club called Backstage. The plan was to get a taxi, but of course at 3AM in the middle of nowhere, there wasn't a hope in hell of that happening and, long story short, we ended up walking home. It took a surprisingly short amount of time, but we were quite terrified the entire time. We stopped at a petrol station (the only one we saw the entire time) and were hit on by old German men. I pretended to be brave, for Saz's sake, but in reality I was shitting it. I don't really know why, either, because Munich is a far safer city than Dublin.

Everything is winding down, and I'm starting to think back over my time here which is making me nostalgic for this place before I've even left it! Sounds crazy, I know, but it's true. Next week is my last full week here and I am dreading it coming to an end. Even uni, which is a bit of a joke over here, is going to be sad on the last day.

Fuck, I need to sleep...

I dunno how I went running this morning. I must have more in common with the Germans than I thought...

Song of the day: Lily Allen - The Fear.

This is what they call structured procrastination..

2009-07-13T16:44:00.002+02:00

All right, it isn't really. Really I'm just sick of reading about fucking Bosnia-Herzegovina and their stupid media laws and the million wars they've had over territory... I need a fucking break, and this is it. I had one earlier too. It involved grocery shopping and was a lot more fun than it sounds. Grocery shopping in Germany is very different to how it is back home. In Ireland, we love a good aul' chat (okay not me, I tend to look quite angry, but other people) so shopping involves talking to the lady on the register, while having our bags packed for us, and searching for money in a wallet that is usually empty after one-too-many Butler's hot chocolates or vodka and Cokes. It's a lovely experience, one I sort of miss now that I haven't had it in so long.

I used to love running into Superquinn during my night shift in work and buying stupid shit to eat, like Koka noodles and Muller yogurts with chocolate balls on the side (that should have an umlaut on the u, but I still can't figure out how to anything but fadas - stupid computer). I loved the Fastlane, I loved watching little old ladies tottering about, I loved when I had to buy condoms and couldn't find them and had to send my workmate in to locate the aisle so that I could then go back in and very smoothly purchase a pack as if I did so all the time. It was glorious, as the Americans would say.

And then there's Germany, where if you don't throw your stuff into the bag at breakneck speed while simultaneously finding money and handing it to the disapproving bitch on the till (the only till that's open), you might as well shoot yourself right then and there. It's like a race, every single time. And I still have no idea why. I suck at it too, especially when I have to buy jars of shit. I am much too clumsy to be handling glass jars. Only last week I fell down a fucking hill and wrecked my shopping (and my drainpipes). Not my finest hour, but it was hilariously funny. Anyway, shopping today was all right cos I was buying random food items, such as an avocado and a jar of mayo, in order to make an at-home conditioner treatment for my ridiculously damaged hair. Lately, I've been freaking out that it's falling out. I'm told that it isn't, but I swear it is.

So, since my straw-like hair is beyond the help of traditional conditioners, I'm going to do something a bit more DIY. (Details of how horribly it goes wrong in a future post). I'm not really looking forward to putting eggs, mayo, avocado, bananas and honey in my hair...but desperate times and all that.

I am still on a Kevin Smith kick. To Jersey!!

I'm a bit disappointed because I didn't get quite as drunk as I intended last Saturday, despite the free drinks on offer, but the guy DJing was a friend so he played lots of stuff for me (including Limp Bizkit) so I was fairly happy. Me and Claire danced the night away while Saz ran about drunkenly as only Saz can do while still remaining upright (I fell a few hundred times). I only have two weekends left here and I'm getting really impatient. I want something amazing to happen, and I can feel that it will, but so far nothing... Soon enough, I'm going to be running around looking for reports from lecturers to prove that I did something besides partying and travelling over here, and then there won't be any time left for anything!

I'm supposed to be going to some German dude's house later on to work on this presentation. I wonder how impressed he's going to be when I tell him that I've been sitting around all day listening to Siouxsie instead of doing any work... Maybe I should be working right now...

Oh, how my mind wanders...

Song of the day: Siouxsie - About To Happen.

Time is moving much too fast

2009-07-08T17:39:00.003+02:00

I'm sooo fucking tired and this week is flying by, as is expected from my last month here. Fuck, now it's less than a month. Fuck. I'm starting to freak out about all of the things I still want to see and do here, because I have very little money and time left. Saz and I took a walk earlier on through Marienplatz and Odeonsplatz all the way to uni, while we had the time. We walked the same way with her American (Milco) and the Canadians (Stan and Paddy) the weekend before last, but it was at three in the morning so we didn't get to see much. We saw more today, it was awesome. Although the city is beautiful late at night too, because it gets so quiet, very unlike Dublin or London. I'm going to miss it so much when I leave.

I was in Berlin this past weekend and it kicked major ass. It was thirty degree heat the entire time, we saw loads of historical stuff, ate some fantastic food (including a delish Mexican restaurant I wished I could've taken Scooby to) and partied the night away at one of the most famous rock clubs. The Brits went home early (snore) but Saz and I stayed till they kicked us out, thus having more time to drool over the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my life (Freddy from Sweden, lead singer of a band called The Durango Riot who actually aren't half bad), meet a chick from Galway, drink lots, and dance as much as possible before the sun came up. It was fantastic. Of course, we had to go sightseeing all day on Sunday but it was totally worth it! The Jewish memorial was really worth seeing too, it's so moving, so I didn't really mind being exhausted.

On Saturday we went shopping and found this great place called Who Killed Bambi (best name ever) where Saz and I were in fashion heaven. She found an amazing, 80s style shift dress and I found a bag with Siouxsie on it that I haven't been able to stop admiring since. It cost me food money for the week, but I don't care because I've never seen anything like it and am completely in love with it. I mean, what could be better than Siouxsie's face on a bag?! That's right, nothing.

I really fell in love with Berlin. It was totally worth the nine hour bus journey each way and the money I didn't have but spent anyway! The fashion was amazing and it had a much more alternative feel to it than Munich, which is fairly conservative. There were also the most beautiful alternative men there that I have ever seen. I could've licked them, they were so gorgeous. Kinda sucks being back here now, where there is a distinct lack of rock boys and girls. But it feels like home, so I'll shut up complaining.

Saz has been in an exceptionally good mood lately because of her Milco, but is dreading the thought of going home. I am too, to a certain extent but I also feel that, by the time the next three and a half weeks are up, I'll feel ready to head back anyway. I definitely could've done a year over here, and I'm really pissed that I didn't get a chance to, but five months has been great anyway and I'm quite sad that it's almost over.

I've been writing lots and lots lately, and reading Kevin Smith's book religiously. It makes me laugh and cry and want to watch his movies over and over (which I have been). Uni over here is a bit of a joke, so I haven't had to do too much work thankfully. Having said that, hopefully the lecturers will be generous with the ECTS points or else I'm screwed! I've learned so much about myself over here, I've grown up so much. I don't want it to end because I feel like there is so much left to do...

Still, Dublin awaits I suppose. My beautiful Dublin.. I miss it so, but I've a feeling I'm going to miss Munich just as much once I leave. I must get an I love Munich tee before I leave, to match my Camden one. I would've got one in Berlin, but the Siouxsie bag took almost all of my shopping money (I don't care, it was worth it). I did get a green leopard print sundress for a fiver and skull pumps for a tenner though, which kicked major ass. I've been picking up postcards in all of the cities I've visited, too, so I got one of those. Ah, Berlin was so much fun....I miss it... Especially cos the weather fucking sucks here right now. What happened to the summer!?

Food time. Man it's going to be weird not cooking for myself anymore...

Song of the day: Puscifer - Momma Sed (Ohio introduced me to this band, side project of that man from Tool, a band I kinda hate, and I really really like em).

Leave A Scar

2009-06-28T14:11:00.005+02:00

It's not like I made myself a list
Of new and different ways to murder your heart
I'm just a painting that's still wet
If you touch me, I'll be smeared
You'll be stained
Stained for the rest of your life

So turn around, walk away
Before you confuse the way we abuse each other
You're not afraid of getting hurt
And I'm not afraid of how much I hurt you

I'm well aware I'm a danger to myself
Are you aware I'm a danger to others?
There's a crack in my soul
You thought it was a smile

Whatever doesn't kill you...
Is gonna leave a scar
Whatever doesn't kill you...
Is gonna leave a scar
Leave a scar
Leave a scar
Leave a scar
Whatever doesn't kill you will leave a scar

I'm more like a silver bullet
And I'm like a gun, not easy to hold
I'm moving fast and if I stay inside your heart
I'm certain that this will be
The end of your life

So turn around, walk away
Before you confuse the way we abuse each other
You're not afraid of getting hurt
And I'm not afraid of how much I hurt you

I'm well aware I'm a danger to myself
Are you aware I'm a danger to others?
There's a crack in my soul
You thought it was a smile

Whatever doesn't kill you...
Is gonna leave a scar
Whatever doesn't kill you...
Is gonna leave a scar
Leave a scar
Leave a scar
Leave a scar
Whatever doesn't kill you will leave a scar

She warned you that she may fuck me
But chances are I'm going to fuck you over
She warned you that she may fuck me
But chances are I'm going to fuck you over
She warned you that she may fuck me
But chances are I'm going to fuck you over
She warned you that she may fuck me
But chances are I'm going to fuck you over

It's beginning to sink in, Ted

2009-06-26T12:36:00.002+02:00

It's almost 2PM over here, but I only just got up and, sadly enough, it wasn't because of a hangover this time. I slept really well, for the first time this week, last night and, as a result, jumped out of bed at 9AM to go for a run which I then subsequently pushed myself too hard on, collapsed with stomach cramps, crawled back to my flat and settled back in bed, writhing in pain, with some much-needed metal pumping through my headphones.

I'm getting really excited to see Metallica again, especially with Noodles because we ALWAYS have the best time no matter what we're doing. I'll only have been home a day when we go to see them, and I hate pretty much all of the support bands (The Sword and Mastodon are the exceptions) but it's going to be a fucking awesome day, especially if last year is anything to go by. It'll only be my second time seeing them, which seems ridiculous. I can't wait.

I stuck on some Radiohead in the middle, of course. I like mixing them with metal, even though it doesn't really make any sense to do so.

Anyway, I recovered after a bit and now here I am.

This week has been fairly boring. Uni, spending money I don't have (mainly on food and drink), watching random crap online (lots of Father Ted as I've been getting a bit homesick) and hanging out with Saz, complaining about why nothing exciting is happening in our lives at the moment. I've been trying to cheer her up somewhat, but it's difficult when I completely agree with what she has to say.

I'm beginning to miss home a lot. It's not that Munich doesn't feel like home, because it does, but I miss my friends, knowing where almost everything is, making my own money, hopping on a bus out to furthest Wicklow to watch Simpsons DVDs with Noodles and Scooby, getting stoned in bed with Star or the emo, going on dates.... I miss Dublin, probably the one great love of my life. It sounds stupid, given how many times I've been hurt there, not to mention all of the terrible things that have happened there, but it's still very close to my heart and probably always will be, even when I move away again.

The weather has been pretty shit this week, too, which hasn't helped. It rained solidly for three or four days and now it seems to have brightened up a bit, but it's kind of too little too late at this stage. I can't wait till I'm able to sunbathe again. Not that I particularly want to be tanned, but I love just lazing about listening to music and reading. My mother sent over the Dubliner summer annual, which made me both yearn for home and also get excited that I'm in a completely different city. Munich really is fantastic.

I've been on a major Kevin Smith kick the past couple of weeks. I've been reading his blog, watching all of his movies and, of course, reading his book My Boring Ass Life, which the emo brought over for me while he was here. It's all taken from blog posts, but he's written it in the most candid, honest, detailed way possible that to most people it'd be boring as hell, but to me it's incredibly fascinating. I know that there's a part later on in it when Mewes (Jason Mewes, Jay to his Silent Bob - I've loved him for many years) relapses and isn't allowed back into the house that Smith shares with his wife and kid. I was nearly in tears when my brother was telling me about it, so I'm dreading reading it. Anyway, the book is great and I'm really enjoying it. I'm trying to read lots of German, but I'm more interested in reading Kevin Smith's ramblings than anything else...

I wonder if anybody is bothered reading my ramblings..

Anyway, life is great and shit at the moment. There are less than five weeks left in my stay here, which seems ridiculous in the space of five months, but it's beginning to drag slightly, which is worrying... Still, I know the next few weeks are going to fly by so I should just shut up and enjoy them. I finally booked my flight home, which is good. The thought of packing up this room scares the shit out of me. I never expected to gather so much shit here, but I have. I've had such a fantastic time, that it just pisses me off when I have weeks like this where nothing seems to happen, or go right, and the overwhelming thought is of going home.

At least I'm heading out tomorrow night, to (hopefully) rock out properly for once. And there's Berlin next weekend to look forward to (still dunno how the hell I'm going to afford that). Maybe it isn't all bad. I mean...some things went right this week. Let's see...

1. My article on the evolution ofVogue and "Mode als Kunst" (fashion as art) is definitely going in the college magazine, which is a huge boost for my CV because it is, of course, in German. It was nice to be told it wasn't complete crap, too.

2. I booked my flight home and my last rent instalment is pretty much paid.

3. Saz and I talked and sobbed our way into getting our grant papers signed early so that we might have SOME money for the last few weeks.

4. Charley helped me do my roots so I no longer have shitty hair, which begs the question - why would somebody pay 50 quid to have his/her hair dyed orange when he/she can do it at home for a fraction of the price and do it right? (pet peeve of mine). Getting it done professionally again is going to be fantastic though, don't get me wrong.

5. Berlin is all booked and ready to go.

6. I wrote lots and lots and lots and actually liked what I wrote.

Hmm...not bad for a week that was a bit meh...

I guess I should shut up now, seeing as I have more writing to do. I really should drag my ass out to aerobics later on too, even though I really don't want to get up...

Song of the day: Radiohead - Just.

Wien

2009-06-16T14:01:00.003+02:00

I've decided not to wait a week to write about last weekend, unlike the week before, and I'm bored right now and have just done my journal entry for the day, so...yeah!

I set off last Thursday night, 11PM sharp, on a six-hour bus journey to lovely Vienna. My good bud Tar, who I hadn't seen in a year because of something that happened between us but is now sorted, is doing Erasmus there and has been living in the city since last September. He met me at the U-Bahn station at 5AM (sucks to be him!), we travelled back to his flat and slept for a few hours before we hit the city. I wasn't really interested in doing touristy things while I was there, preferring to experience real life in Vienna as it were, and luckily, he was more than happy to oblige me.

We ate in a very fancy Burger King in the city centre (all BKs over here are fancy, I dunno why) and then wandered about for a bit, taking certain things in, such as the Opera House, which was beautiful, and about a hundred churches. We got cheap booze on the way home and I was shown a funfair, a brothel and a strip club. I was dying to see a real, live hooker but I was assured I would by the end of my stay. I dunno if the city is just filthy or sexually open or what, but there were even more strip clubs and sex shops than Munich, if that's actually possible, and of course the aforementioned brothels. It was quite a trip.

We did pre-drinks and got fairly tipsy before heading out to meet a load of Austrians at a club that turned out to be a ska bar. We skanked the night away with mad people who couldn't understand my accent, and vice versa. Viennisch and Bayerisch are supposed to be fairly similar, but I couldn't really hear it at all to be honest! We headed to a bar called G-Punkt (like G-spot) afterwards, with the charming tagline "Ich habe das G-Punkt gefunden" (I found the G-spot, basically) and played a drunken game of foosball, and then a drinking game involving a hammer, nails and a tree trunk. Basically, everybody gets a nail, hammers it into the trunk a bit and then the hammer is passed around and you take turns hitting it with the blunt edge. Whoever gets their nail in last buys a round of shots. Of course, it was me. I didn't end up buying shots though because we got kicked out of the bar earlier than expected.

We were waiting at a tram stop in the beautiful light of the morning, when I realised I had plastic flowers in my hair. It took me a sec to remember that Stefan, one of the Austrians, had given me a lei that I'd broken (of course) and thus tied in my hair. Then, I kissed a poster of Tokio Hotel and got Tar to take a photo for my sister.

We went back to his and slept it off til the next afternoon.

When we could finally face the sunlight and heat, we dragged our asses out of bed and across the city to a pizzeria that Charley had recommended to me from her trip there the weekend before. It was in a dodgy part of town, but we went in with an open mind and we were not disappointed! It was probably the nicest pizza I've ever had, not to mention ridiculously cheap. We got two massive pizzas and two big Cokes for under a tenner. If I were a food reviewer (and what a fantastic job that would be), this would be when I'd give it five fucking stars. We took half of each pizza home and cracked into it later on after we'd been drinking again.

It was Niamh's birthday, one of Tar's friends from back home, and so we did pre-drinks in hers, where she and I discovered a shared hatred for Ruth Gilligan and love of Marian Keyes. Once the bonding was over, we went to one of their favourite cocktail bars, where I racked up a sixty quid bar tab over the course of the night. I met more mad Austrians and another mad Irishman, who's been living in Austria for five years. I also got a great kick out of the fact that one of the Austrians looked a hell of a lot like Jonathan Davis.

We moved on to G-Punkt later into the night, and it was there that I was reminded that, the night before, I'd drunkenly challenged Jogel, one of the most hardcore Austrian drinkers, to a drinking contest involving Birne, the strongest and most lethal shot they've got. Of course, I couldn't back out then, because not only had I been bragging the night before, but I'd heard way too many stories about Tar passing out and getting sick after nights out drinking, and I felt it'd really be letting the side down if I refused to do it then.

So the shots arrived on a long tray, provided by Jogel, whose eyes were shining at the thought of showing me up. Luckily, he didn't. I downed each one like a trooper, barely blinking despite the fact that my throat was stinging like fuck. He was quite impressed by the end, as was Tar, who seemed completely and utterly shocked that I hadn't passed out or been sick everywhere. I was glad to prove that I can handle my drink, even if I'm probably painting myself now as a gigantic alco. Oh, and Niamh pulled the barman. I was well jealous.

I bid everyone goodbye and we headed back to Tar's flat, where we gorged on the pizza from earlier on and then slept well into the following afternoon. I woke up a bit earlier than him, eager to go to the zoo, but he was too exhausted and so, we sat watching German MTV (which is hilarious) until a more reasonable time and then headed out for lunch/dinner. He took me to an Irish pub, called Flanagans, that was run by Brits. Even so, I was impressed. The food was delish, and since the weather was gorgeous, we sat by an open window with the sun on our hungover faces and relaxed for most of the day.

We went back to his flat, grabbed my suitcase and headed out again. I was on the bus, after a quick goodbye, around 10.30PM and I arrived in Munich at 4AM, which wasn't too bad. I stayed awake the whole journey, not really tired after my long afternoon sleep earlier that day, and listened to music the whole way home. The guy next to me took pity on me, sniffling and coughing practically the whole time, and gave me a pack of tissues which I clung to for the entire journey.

I was back in my flat at 5.30AM and collapsed into bed, more tired than I'd anticipated, and feeling slightly strange to be back. Munich feels like home now, and as a result, I'm beginning to get scared about heading home to Dublin.

Saz and Charley are leaving here July 30th, but I think I'm going to leave the following day so that I can spend some time saying goodbye to this place alone and prepare myself for my return. It'll be great and terrible to get back. Niamh said that it's really going to hit her in a bad way when she's sitting at the bus stop waiting for hours for her bus to come, which I definitely agree with, but there are more things to sort out too, and I'm really not looking forward to dealing with bullshit again. Being over here means I'm sort of hidden and protected from all of that. I dunno how I'll feel when I'm thrust into the middle of it all again.

I can't believe this is nearly over.

Song of the day: Foo Fighters - Everlong.

RIP

2009-06-15T20:04:00.003+02:00

I should've written this when I got back last week, but I was far too exhausted and had too much to do that I just couldn't find the time in which to do so. So now, a week later, I'm sitting down to write about the awesomeness that was Rock im Park. And every moment is still as fresh in my mind, as if it only happened yesterday.

It was terribly brilliant, if that makes sense at all. Everything that could've gone wrong did, but even so it kicked major ass!!

We set off late-ish on Friday; me, the emo, the two Americans (Ohio and Brother) and the Proper Irishman (from Monaghan, with a permanently happy smile and positive demeanour no matter what the situation, not to mention the best accent ever!!). I was slightly worried about travelling and staying with people I didn't know very well, but thankfully all of us bonded on the train and, by the time we arrived at the Zepplinfield, we felt like old friends. I was very excited to get a new wristband to stick next to my two-year-old Download '07 one. It's a bit too long, though, I should probably cut it..

Rock im Park is situated around two lakes and, obviously, some forests and parkland. But, the most infamous thing about it is, of course, that it is where the Nuremberg rallies took place and, even more notably, where Der Triumph des Willens was filmed. Even being there felt strange, maybe even moreso than being in Dachau.

We eventually found spots to camp, near one of the lakes, set up the tents and headed off to see the first performer - Chris Cornell. Now, I love a bit of Audioslave and even some Soundgarden from time to time, but Cornell's solo stuff leaves a lot to be desired. He strutted out wearing grey drainpipes, knee-high boots and a loose beige top, and launched into his most recent single, Part of Me, with the charming chorus line "That bitch ain't a part of me". It got the crowd going, but about ten minutes in I was bored shitless and dragged the emo off to the only inside stage to see Bring Me The Horizon (who blew me away when I saw them earlier in the year). The kids were pretty hammered and kept passing out at our feet, but the lads put on a good show. We almost died laughing when Olli Sykes, the frontman and a gigantic spa, ordered the Germans to do a circle pit by saying "Round and round Germany, round and round" over and over. Good stuff. We almost got crushed getting out of there, but it was worth it. For me, at least. The emo wanted to tear his hair out. I bought a T-shirt then. The selection was amazing! And they were so cheap! I got one with a sexy lady on it, which I later discovered hadn't got the bands on the back. So I bought another one the following day. We also had the festival-themed cocktails, Rocking Park, which were fucking delish I must say.

We found the lads and all headed to see the mighty Limp Bizkit, all of us very excited that Wes Borland is playing with them again. We lost each other about five minutes in, but the set was AMAZING. The only downpoint was Behind Blue Eyes, which Wes actually left the stage during. I mean, who picked that for the setlist? It sucks and it's a total downer! Regardless, the set was great and we got seriously pummelled in the mosh pit. Getting out of the main arena was horrible. Everybody pushed and we were squashed pretty badly. There was very little crowd control all weekend, but I suppose it's difficult with such a huge amount of people.

While we were waiting for the others, the emo noticed he was missing his wallet, with the 300 quid that he'd been saving up to splash out on me at the festival. He was devastated. When the others arrived, the Proper Irishman offered to help us look, assuring us it'd turn up. Of course, we couldn't find it. I held the emo in the tent that night, which felt strange but nice. We didn't get much sleep. Some Brit asshole was yelling about The Killers all night. But we awoke still fairly hopeful. And it was sunny out! Well, for a bit anyway.

We spent most of Saturday trying to blag our way into the press area so that we could hit the Polizei up for the emo's wallet. They were unhelpful, as per usual, and told us to come back later. We found the others at Papa Roach and rocked out for a bit. They stayed to see Staind, we legged it off to watch Placebo. By that stage, it was beginning to rain quite heavily, and I was regretting my choice to bring a pair of pumps, shorts, a hoodie and tights with a variety of tops. I was cold. But Placebo warmed me up. They were amazing. Brian Molko is getting on a bit, and his ponytail makes him look like Bono, but they were incredible anyway. We were blown away.

We saw the end of Killswitch, but although the emo was fairly impressed, I tend to find myself wholly underwhelmed by them. We got right up the front for Marilyn Manson, and I was jumping up and down excitedly on the spot waiting for them to come on. We got talking to a German couple who were very impressed by our Irishness. Unfortunately for me, Mr. Manson didn't seem to be in the mood to play to, as he called it, "Dutchland" and stormed off stage after only an hour. The set was pretty decent, and the new stuff sounded great, but I couldn't help but feel cheated by somebody I've always considered one of my heroes. He barely sang any of the lyrics, which begs the question - why bother playing if one is just going through the motions?

We were squashed again on the way to get water, and met some lovely Irish people in the queue. The setup of RIP is completely different to DL. There aren't many water stations, and the area itself is bigger, although the stages are quite close, which is a plus. Paying for showers sucks. I only ended up having one, which sounds disgusting but it was all I could afford given that I ended up paying for the emo all weekend too! (I was paid back, thanks to his lovely parents).

Anyway, we were very excited for Korn, especially because it was the emo's first time seeing them. We'd lost the others again by the time they came on. The Pure Irishman went to see The Killers in the end, bogger that he is. But he was really, really missing out because Korn played the BEST set I've ever seen them play. I almost cried when they played Thoughtless, my favourite song of theirs. I'd never heard it live before and it didn't disappoint. Blind as the encore was amazing too. The pit was insane. We met another Irishman in it. We were seriously tired afterwards, and needless to say, we slept well that night!

Sunday dawned bright and sunny, but it didn't stay that way for long. The Pure Irishman dragged us all to see Flogging Molly, but the Americans disappeared en route. We later discovered that Ohio had decided to rethink his strategy of not wearing a jacket or hoodie in the rain and ran back to get one as soon as it started to drizzle. We were not so lucky. We got DRENCHED. And I was in shorts. On the way back to the tents to change, the emo threw off his soaked T-shirt but kept his sunglasses on and happily strutted back topless in the downpour. He's still ill this week, as a result (but he looked damn good, so who cares).

Although we were dying to see Madness, the emo and I had to trek out of the festival grounds into Nuremberg to find an ATM (Germany has a distinct lack of them). Seeing as it was a Sunday, nothing was open, and it didn't help that we looked like the survivors in a teen slasher film - covered in muck, soaking wet, dishevelled, pissed off and not wearing nearly enough clothing. Since my hoodie had got soaked earlier on, we only had one between us. And he, being the gentleman that he is, decided I should have it. So we looked a bit mad. We were out trekking for about two hours in the rain, thus missing Madness. We blagged our way into the press area again (being that my German is so good - har de har) and I FINALLY found an ATM. Yey! The Polizei had his wallet too, although the money was missing and they charged three quid to get it back. Typical German bullshit.

I threw caution to the wind then, and we had a few drinks before the Prodigy. I was very very excited to see them, but he wasn't so much. It didn't matter anyway, cos their set was amazing. Techno pits fucking suck, but we had such a laugh bouncing about amongst the pillheads. And then, once they were done, the real fun began - the hour long wait until Slipknot. I was determined to get up the front, which we did after some jostling about. Unfortunately, it was then that the heavens opened and we were drowned in the coldest, heaviest rain I have ever felt in my life. We sheltered under our one hoodie. The emo screamed at me to run to shelter somewhere properly, but I refused. I'd waited four years to see Slipknot, I wasn't giving up my place then.

And, of course, it was completely fucking worth it. Not only did we have the best view of the stage, but the set was amazing. Joey was so teeny behind the drumkit, Jim was so tall next to Corey, Chris did situps off Clown's drumkit when it was spinning in the air, Craig puked off to the side somewhere.... It was incredible. We were freezing but I didn't feel it. They opened with Sic, my favourite song and they were perfect, even though they didn't play My Plague once again. I sang extra loud to Dead Memories (which holds a special place in my heart because of the past year) and Everything Ends, which was preceded by one of Corey's speeches about not letting the assholes get you down. They're quite an inspirational band, as fucking stupid as that sounds. And they still make me feel like less of a freak, even at 21 years of age. Oh, and the "Zero Bullshit" was fucking epic as always. They exchanged hugs and exited the stage to 'Til We Die, played over the sound system, and it was the most perfect way they could've gone.

We discussed every little detail all the way back to the tents, not really minding the cold or the squashing in the queues. The others were already packing up when we arrived. We'd decided to leave in the middle of the night to beat the rush. We packed up as quickly as we could and headed off, leaving the emo's tent, which I accidentally broke earlier in the day, behind. We were in the train station by 3AM but the train wasn't till 5. We sat and chatted about anything and everything. The Brother, being the youngest of all of us, seemed most thrilled by the whole experience, but needless to say we were all fairly impressed. As a weekend, although imperfect, it kicked major ass.

We were kicked off two trains for having a Bayern ticket that wasn't valid till 9AM, but we had a great time anyway. We eventually made it home and parted ways with knucks, of course. The emo and I slept, fucked, showered and set off for the airport what seemed like five minutes later. I cried when I had to leave him, which I wasn't expecting. I stuck on No Surprises on the train home and cried some more. Only Slipknot calmed me down, of course.

And now, a week later, I still can't believe it's all over so soon. It was amazing. I'd go again tomorrow if I could.

And now I've six weeks left here and I don't know what to do!!!!

Song of the day: Slipknot - Before I Forget.

This time next week...

2009-05-31T17:56:00.002+02:00

...I will be hours away from seeing Slipknot and hopefully fucked off my face in preparation for The Prodigy!!

This week is still dragging. Hurry up, damn it!! I know it's Sunday, but still. The Feiertag tomorrow is going to be like another Sunday. Sundays are for sex, getting stoned, eating fantastic homemade dinners and recovering from the night before. That is all.

I've been writing my article all day but it's bollocks so now I'm taking a break to listen to some stuff and chat to some people. I keep sticking Radiohead on (surprise, surprise), cos of the gig last year. Ah, that was such a mad week. And everything has changed so much since then... Still, now I'm in fucking Munich so there is absolutely no cause for complaint! Except, of course, that this week is going by SO FUCKING SLOWLY.

I don't even know why I'm writing this. I'm just fucking procrastinating. Oh well.

I'm gonna give up on this article soon and watch All The Boys Love Mandy Lane. It's one of the best horror movies I've ever seen and the titular chick is so hot. Speaking of hot chicks, I've finally taken steps to sort things with Star. Finally. I'm kind of dreading going back to Dublin, actually...cos there's so much shit to sort out... Still, I guess I can't avoid it forever. I have to book flights soon, too. Shit. How can there only be two months left!? It's so unfair!

My sister, who is now obsessed with Tokio Hotel (who suck, no matter what anybody says), informed me that my mother now has new rules about who is allowed to stay over in my house, which is just fantastic. She's probably been told that some of my friends are bit on the bold side, but I didn't think she'd really mind with me still under her roof! I'll find some way around it. There are always ways to bend the rules. Or break them completely, for that matter.

I'm getting into EBM again after the awesomeness that is Refugium. I'd kind of gone off it for a while cos I was getting into really heavy metal stuff, but now it and goth are taking a front seat again, which I'm really glad about. Goth reminds me of being a really aggro teenager, and I still absolutely adore it, and EBM is just so much fucking fun and so interesting. I don't know how anybody just sticks to one genre of music. I'd go mental. And all of the musical eliteness shit is so boring too.

Although Noodles does give me shit for not being able to name all of the members of Slipknot...

Speaking of music, I've been checking out the new Manson album, The High End Of Low, and so far I've been pleasantly surprised. Eat Me, Drink Me was pretty good, but there weren't a lot of standout tracks for me. And when I saw them do it live, it was fairly lacking. This one is much more catchy and interesting, and they seem to be taking a lot more risks. I think Twiggy is back on this one too, although I might be wrong (musical eliteness again). I should look it up. Of course, I've loved Manson since I was a little rock child, so I guess I'm easily pleased. I'm looking forward to seeing them at RIP too, even though I was a bit disappointed last time. Maybe it'll be better this time, because the material is stronger. Either way, it'll be fun. I love the band, and I love the frontman and the theatrics of the stage show are just so much fun, so it'll be good.

I should really get back to writing this article...or start watching that film...

The next two days are going to be hectic but this one is DRAGGING by. Grr...

Song of the day: Marilyn Manson - Leave A Scar.

8 Days to RIP

2009-05-28T18:21:00.004+02:00

This week is going by so fucking SLOWLY... I want it to be over so that it'll be the beginning of next week and I can finally start getting properly excited for Rock im Park and, of course, the emo's visit to awesome Munich. I cannot WAIT. Seriously, I can barely sit still in uni. The fact that next Monday (and sorta Tuesday too, as is tradition) is a Feiertag sucks because it's a day with nothing to do and nowhere to go. Maybe I'll do laundry. Or clean. Or write. I have an article - in German, naturally - due next Tuesday that I have yet to begin. I keep meaning to start it, and then I get caught up in...well, nothing really, I just get distracted by anything and everything. It's ridiculous.

And, of course, I am even more of a loony little maggot child this week because it is so soon until I see my beloved Slipknot live in concert again and I can hardly sit still!! I sorted things with my mother earlier in the week, which is a huge weight off my shoulders. And then she posted my All Hope Is Gone tee to me and I was even happier!!

I haven't taken it off since. I am that excited.

I haven't seen Slipknot in four years, which seems ridiculous. I was 17 when I saw them first. The gig was in the RDS and I dragged my best bud at the time, Tar (still great friends, despite a major bump in the road last year), with me to see them. My mother drove us. She wasn't impressed when I stuck Iowa (my absolute favourite album by Slipknot) on in the car, but I leapt out before she could stop me. The gig itself was amazing. I was one of only a handful of chicks present, let alone the only one in a skirt. I was picked up and thrown into the sound engineering area about a hundred times, but I just kept running back for more. And, of course, the "Zero Bullshit" (during Spit It Out, when everybody has to sit on the ground and then, on Corey's cue, jump into the air in unison) was fucking amazing. I got the live album about a year later and cried listening to it. It was one of the most fantastic gigs I have ever been to, I can remember everything about it, from what I wore, to how my hair looked, to how sore my throat was after, how bruised I was, how happy I was, how torn my fishnets were, how tiny Joey was behind the drum kit and how tall Jim was next to Corey, how everybody went "Aw" when we were told Clown wouldn't be there (I still don't get why, he sucks!), how fast my heart was beating as I lay in bed that night and tried to sleep... I don't think I'll ever forget it as long as I live.

And now, four years later, I am well overdue for another live performance from my favourite band. A lot of people hate them, or don't understand them, or disregard them, or whatever else. I adore them. I think their stuff is amazing. When I was an angry little teenager and I would sit and cut my arms up and cry my eyes out and wonder what the fuck was wrong with me and why I couldn't understand my own thoughts, Slipknot made me happy. They gave me hope. That sounds cheesy, I know, but it's the truth. They weren't even a gateway band, I loved much harder stuff at the time. I still do. I love softer stuff too. But Slipknot are unique as a band and they will always have a place in my heart. And their live show is fucking INCREDIBLE, it really is.

It sucks I haven't got any taller since the last time I saw them...and I'll probably just as stupidly leg it into the pits to get the shit kicked out of me, but it'll be fun anyway! The Prodigy are playing before them, and Machine Head before them. It's going to be amazing. I must get drugs for The Prodigy, actually. Shit. So much to do and so little time! I'm so glad I found people to camp with too! Okay, so two of them are American and they're all lads (of course) but that only makes it more fun. I seriously cannot wait. Hurry up week and be over!!

Song of the day: Slipknot - Psychosocial (live live live live live LIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!).

Don't Panic

2009-05-22T14:22:00.000+02:00

I just discovered a song I hadn't heard in ages, that used to help calm me down when I was 15 and suffering from what were the beginnings of depressive episodes. I used to cut and cry and scream and tear my hair out. I used to wonder why it had to happen to me. I don't wonder anymore. I know why now.

It's a song called Don't Panic by Coldplay, which is strange in itself because I kind of hate Coldplay as a band. I think they're highly overrated. And a poor man's Radiohead. Actually, no, more like a rich man's Radiohead come to think of it. I heard this particular song today and the lyrics caught me. They're not deep or thoughtful or anything special really. I just like the simplicity of them.

Oh, we're sinking like stones,
All that we fought for,
All those places we've gone,
All of us are done for.
We live in a beautiful world,
Yeah we do, yeah we do,
We live in a beautiful world.

Yeah, kind of depressing, I know. That is what I'm into, after all. Or so it would seem. Those lyrics just caught me today, I don't know why. Maybe they matched my mood, maybe they matched the weather...I dunno, I can't explain. They fit.

I'm writing this with the rain and wind pounding against that stupid orange shutter thing that doesn't really block out any light, but which I've become accustomed to after living here for over two months. It's strange how easy it is to get used to things. I can't imagine ever leaving this place, I really can't.

So, the weather is shit and I'm feeling like shit.

This week hasn't been easy. I'm having a huge argument with my mother, on the basis that she has once again favoured my brother over me and may or may not have given him permission to permanently take over my bedroom back home, leaving me invariably homeless.

Oh, No Surprises has come on while I'm in the middle of writing this.

This song always reminds me of falling asleep next to a friend of mine last summer. I hadn't slept in days, yet I was completely and utterly awake. I just remember we were facing each other with our eyes wide open. I can't remember seeing anything behind the other person's eyes, but I know something was showing behind mine because I shut them tightly as soon as I realised and I concentrated on the song and, eventually, I fell asleep. It was a very strange feeling, a very calm feeling. That song never ceases to calm me down. And I love being stoned to it. And falling asleep to it.

I don't know what to do about my mother. I wish she would just tell me the truth instead of stringing me along, because if this is happening then I need to figure out what the hell I'm going to do when I return home. If I even have a home anymore.

This fucking sucks.

Song of the day: Coldplay - Don't Panic.

Praha

2009-05-19T20:57:00.001+02:00

I'm still absolutely exhausted from the weekend, but I'm writing this before all of the details go out of my head. I should write in my journal too. Shit.

After chancing my arm with the Student Agency bus company via a number of persistent emails, I managed to get Saz and I on the bus to Prague on Friday afternoon. This plan was made the night before, despite the fact that everybody else who was going had booked it well in advance and was heading down there on Thursday night. That didn't bother me though, I was just glad to have a place.

We set off bright and early on Friday morning and, after a five hour bus journey that included several free hot chocolates and the nicest Czech stewardess in the history of the world, we arrived in beautiful Prague. It took us quite a while to decipher the Metro and Tram lines, seeing as everything was in Czech and nobody seemed to have any idea what we are talking about when we asked for help. As a result, we arrived at our hostel around 10PM and there was only time for a quick dinner before we collapsed into bed.

Did I mention we didn't understand the currency? We foolishly thought they used Euro in the Czech Repulic. They don't. Nothing like seeing 188KC as a bill for one's food only to discover that's actually less than a tenner...

Saturday began bright and early. We discovered the others were, thankfully, staying in the same hostel as us, which made things a hell of a lot easier. Unfortunately, they'd seen most of what the city had to offer the day before. Thus, we ended up wandering around in the heat, shopping, climbing hills and looking through monasteries for most of the day. Oh, and eating of course. We had four Italians with us who refused to eat any so-called Italian food, which kind of sucked, but the company was great and we spoke lots and lots of German.

That night, we went to Prague's most famous nightclub, which boasted five floors with a different genre of music being played on each. After much running about and sampling, a load of us settled on the Revival room, which not only had a Night Fever-esque light up dancefloor, but cheap cocktails, cheesy music and the best crowd in the entire place. We did a conga line to the Ghostbusters theme tune and threw ourselves around to Kiss. It was amazing. Saz almost pulled a Swiss lad, who, surprisingly enough, was bearded!

Seeing as it was my first sober night out in ages, I was surprised by how much fun I had, which sounds a bit fucked up now that I've written it down, but it's the truth. We ended up back at the hostel around 6AM, leaving the others just an hour to get their stuff together and catch the bus back to Munich. Saz and I slept for a bit. I sleepwalked to the bathroom while yelling that the police were coming for me. I didn't mean to wake her up. I think I was just recovering from being stopped at the border and having every single thing in my bag gone through purely because I laughed when I was asked if I had any drugs on me...ahem.

Anyway, we left our bags at the hostel and spent Sunday wandering the streets in the sunshine, buying random shit and getting lost. Although the city itself is really beautiful, the poverty outside of the touristy centre is quite shocking. I think I've just got used to Munich though. Speaking of which, I really, really missed this place when I was gone, which seems a bit weird.

We had dinner in an Irish pub and discussed Berlin with the barmaid, who said I looked like I'd enjoy it there (I'm not going to disagree with her). They kept giving us more vodka, which in the Czech Republic means we drank A LOT before we had to head back and get the bus. And we got lost. Again. At 11PM in Prague. Of course, everything worked out in the end. We made it to our bus on time and settled down for the five hour journey. I stuck on In Rainbows with the intention of sleeping for most of it, but of course I only dozed. Even so, the journey itself was quite painless and quick. We arrived back in Munich to rain, and were in our flats by 7AM. Unfortunately, we had to get up within a few hours to go and meet our German lecturer from back home. Luckily, that went quite well too! Apparently my German has improved!

Overall, Prague was amazing and the trip itself was worth all of the hassle I went to the night before. I also managed to get probably the best present ever for the emo. I cannot wait to give it to him. We missed the Eurovision, but I hear Norway won.

There are only two weekends left until the emo gets here and I am beginning to get so excited, even though I still have a hell of a lot to do before then. Dylan is coming to see me this weekend, too, which should be fun. I hope.

There's probably lots of shit I'm forgetting to put in here... Oh well, I'm still too tired to think straight. It was fucking worth it though. Wow.

Song of the day: The B52s - Love Shack.

The Blister Exists

2009-05-12T12:18:00.000+02:00

Munich really feels like home now, which is weird because lately I've been having vivid dreams about Dublin...besides that nerdy one I had about Slipknot. Oh god. I can hear myself going on and on about Slipknot all the time, and I know I'm giving off a mad maggot vibe, but I'm just so excited about seeing them next month that I can't hold the words in my mouth! It's like last summer, with Radiohead (who are headlining Reading and Leeds, which pisses me right the way off), but also kind of different because nothing will ever compare to the excitement I felt prior to that gig...and during it... Fuck. That was the best gig I've ever been to in my life.

Anyway, Rock im Park is going to kick so much ass. That goes without saying. But before that happens, I have a million other things to do and see. Last Saturday, I went with Charley and Claire to Augsburg on a poorly organised MESA day trip. MESA are very helpful and full of ideas, but they absolutely suck at organising shit. Their Berlin trip was a glorified piss-up, which usually suits me down to the ground, but being dragged to the wall directly after six hours on a bus wouldn't have been my idea of fun. Speaking of Berlin, I'm heading there the first weekend in July for a weekend of metal clubs (fingers crossed!), shopping, sightseeing, and, of course, drinking. Everything I do has a rock 'n' roll edge. Or so I've been told. Usually I'm just doing whatever I feel like at the time!

Augsburg was an amazing place. It's one of the oldest towns in Bavaria, and really really beautiful and traditional as a result. The weather was gorgeous. We walked around for hours on a tour of the town and then relaxed afterwards in a beer garden with some traditional Bavarian food and big pints of Radler's (which is the only beer I can stomach). Having said all of that, I was glad to return to the noise and excitement of Munich. I'd hate to be on Erasmus in some quiet place with nothing to do. I definitely belong in the city, wherever that city may be.

We got home pretty late and I didn't have long to get ready before we headed out. My computer has had a virus for the past fortnight, so I wasn't able to read emails or anything like that. The emo tried to help me fix it, and eventually did the other day thankfully. I don't know what I'd do without him sometimes. Anyway, I was looking forward to getting out of my room and my broken computer so that I could forget about it for a bit. We went to an international party, in the Landestag. It was fairly exclusive and secret, but of course once we got in we realised that it was just another glorified basement. The decorations included Disney princesses on the walls, paper corsages on columns and a big Spongebob poster on the door, that proclaimed "The Party Is Here!!". We instantly knew we were in for a good night. Oh, and the drinks were free.

So, we stocked up and hit the dance floor. Charley and the other Brits left pretty early, so Saz and I hung out with a few of our favourite lads all night. My Swede was drunk and, as a result, very happy to see me. He's so beautiful, I could just stare at him all the time.. I wish he weren't taken, but he's really good fun regardless. Marcus, our new Dutch bud from uni, was there too. He was happier than I've ever seen him before, and yelled out "Woooooo!" every few minutes. And then there was Josh, who we partied with at the last Stammtisch (weekly party that either rules or sucks), who was even drunker than me and, as a result, pulled me towards the end of the night. I don't usually hook up with friends, but seeing as we were both hammered and it meant nothing, I'm not really going to count it. It was fun though. Although Erasmus is kind of incestuous. Marina hooked up with him before, after all. Speaking of her, it sucked she wasn't there. But, then again, things are kind of weird between her and Gill right now. I'm just glad she didn't go to the Candy Club (Munich's best gay bar) without me.

My time over here seems to be flying by all of a sudden. The weeks are just disappearing. And the weekends are filling up quicker than I thought possible. This weekend, a group of us are heading to Prague. Next weekend, I think Dylan might be coming to visit. If not, it'll be the weekend after that. The first weekend in June is Rock im Park. The weekend after, I'm heading to Vienna to visit Tar. The weekend after that, Niamh is coming to visit. If not that weekend, the one after. The first weekend in July, we're heading to Berlin. And then there will only be two left before we head home! Oh, and my mother and sister are coming to visit at some stage too. Although I still have no idea when. Or what the hell I'll do with them when they get here.

I can't decide whether or not to go to Metallica the day after I get home. The gig last summer was fucking amazing, and I'd love to see them again, but the tickets are expensive and the support bands aren't the best. Of course, if Slipknot or Korn were to replace Lamb of God (who pulled out the other day) I would be there in a second, even though I'm seeing them both at RIP. Shit, I'm soooo excited about RIP... It's going to be AMAZING!! I love festivals. Download the past two years has been awesome, but this summer is kicking last year's ass big time already, and the festival will be no exception. When I first heard that I'd be on Erasmus during my summer hols, it pissed me off, but now I think it's awesome! I'd hate to be heading home already. Munich feels like home. I just found out that Rammstein are playing the Olympiahalle here in November. I would LOVE to come back for that gig, even just for one night. I already can't imagine leaving this place...I love it so much...

The emo sent me another package, which I received yesterday. I nearly screamed when I found a copy of Kerrang! inside. As a music magazine, it's fairly lacking, but the writing is still pretty good. There was a great Cristina Scabbia interview in it that I just loved. The journalist set the scene so well, but not in that annoying self-involved kind of way that certain others do. I read it twice, I loved it so much. And she's so beautiful. If I could be anyone, I'd be her. And she's so down to earth and intelligent and natural. And she's going out with Jim Root! As somebody who tends to fall for the freaks, I can totally relate to her choice of man (although he is very handsome). The emo also sent some chocolate and a few episodes of my favourite silly MTV reality show, which was very very sweet of him. Best of all, posters of Kaya Scodelario, Vikki Blows and Kat Von D. Mmm... The emo is the sweetest guy I've ever met. And yet he still has enough of an edge for me. I just hope I don't end up disappointing him...

I should get some writing done before uni.

Here's a pic of Jim and Cristina that I think is adorable. Enjoy.

Song of the day: Slipknot - Prelude 3.0.

2009-05-03T23:25:00.001+02:00

I'm in conniptions For the final act You came here for The one derivative You manage is the One I abhor I need a minute to elaborate For everyone the Everyday bullshit things That you have done Your impossible ego Fuck is like a Megalomaniacal tab On my tongue You fuckin' touch me I will rip you apart I'll reach in and take A bite out of that shit You call a heart I don't mind being Ogled, ridiculed, made to feel miniscule; If you consider the source It's kinda pitiful The only thing you really you know about me is... That's all you'll ever know I know why you blame me I know why you blame yourself I know why you plague me I know why you plague yourself I'm turning it around Like a knife in the shell I wanna understand why But I'm hurting myself I haven't seen a lot of reasons To stop it I can't just drop it I'm just a bastard But at least I admit it At least I admit it I know why you blame me I know why you blame yourself I know why you plague me I know why you plague yourself Kill you, fuck you, I will never be you Kill you, fuck you, I will never be you I can't fucking take it anymore A snap of the synapse And now it's fuckin war Kill you, fuck you, I will never be you I know why you blame me I know why you blame yourself I know why you plague me I know why you plague yourself I know why you blame me I know why you blame yourself I know why you plague me I know why you plague yourself

Piss-ups

2009-05-01T13:17:00.000+02:00

Another Friday morning, another inglorious hangover. Made worse by the fact that I wasn't the one being carried home this time. This morning, I did something I very rarely do when hungover - I went running. And, to my great surprise, it worked a treat and now, showered and refreshed with over a litre of water drank in the space of two hours, I feel fantastic. So I am blogging. Oh, the excitemenet.

Last night, Saz and I took advantage of the fact that Charley was heading to see Enter Shikari (don't get me started) and decided to go out, after a long, tortuous week, and get pissed. We love going out with her, but she tends to crash around 2 while we prefer to pull all-nighters and crawl home around 6. Anyway, we headed to the "Thirsty Thursday Party", held in a glorified basement on a weekly basis and attended by anybody and everybody who has foreign blood in them (and some random Germans, too). It's become fairly obvious to me by now that these Erasmus parties, thrown by MESA ("Woooooo!! We're gonna have so much FUN!! Now, write your number down here for when you need to be carried home later"), are nothing more than piss-ups. Which suits me down to the ground. Nobody bothers getting dressed up, everybody is wasted and the music is usually decent.

Last Friday, we dragged our asses all the way to Olywood (or Olympia, to give it its' not so cool name) to go to a bigger party than usual, held in a bigger venue than usual. Of course, everybody got trashed. We started off with free welcome shots that were basically vodka and sherbet. Charley and I danced on a platform while men tried to look up our skirts. I had my first ever shot of tequila with the Swede. Saz broke the American's glasses (then we discovered later that they weren't broken...or something). Charley met yet ANOTHER American who fancied the pants off her. Saz ended up grinding with the Jock (who we all agreed is decent looking, but a spa). And I ended up outside, freezing my ass off again, discussing anything and everything with the American. I should really stop disappearing at these things. People are beginning to ask questions. I also met an Irish lad from Drogheda who I later helped distinguish between the ladies' and men's toilets through a drunken haze. He was very grateful. That night was epic. Last night was...different.

To start with, Saz hadn't eaten for hours prior to our pre-drinks. So she was much further along than me. I tried to catch up, but in the end I was glad I didn't. Very few of our friends were there, so we ended up making new ones. Josh, another American and one of Charley's many admirers, was particularly memorable. He managed to dance when he could barely stand. As for my American; Saz dragged him along for a bit, taunted him and tried to steal his hat. I told him I liked his shirt and then didn't see him again for the rest of the night. Bit weird, that one. But, then again, it's not surprising seeing as I tend to attract the freaks.

Towards the end of the night, when everybody started disappearing off home, I found Saz in the arms of this Brazilian lad who, it's common knowledge, has a thing for her. She doesn't feel the same way, she finds him irritating and repulsive. However, she was clearly off her head and he was forcing another beer down her neck. So, through my drunken haze, I told her that I'd wait until she was done and then we'd go. Unfortunately, she took this badly and ran off. And then collapsed at the edge of the dancefloor. I spent the next half hour stroking her hair while she lay in my lap, and telling her it'd be okay, all the time watching the same Brazilian dancing away in front of me like he hadn't a care in the world. Thus, when he approached me even later on, I told him where to go. And he started yelling and swearing at me that he was the one who really cared, not me. That's one of my least favourite things about men, or macho men in particular, they refuse to admit when they are wrong. Once I got rid of him, I took her to be sick.

While waiting outside, freaking out of course because we'd missed the last U-Bahn and the first one wasn't for two hours, I was approached by two Israeli lads and a girl from somewhere in eastern Europe. They told me they would help. I was cautious, of course, not knowing them, but there was nobody around and I had no other choice but to trust them. They ended up being very sweet and helpful. One of them paid for a taxi home, and the other helped me carry her down the street to the taxi. And then, as if we weren't lucky enough, we got the nicest taxi driver in the history of the world. He told Saz to shout if she needed to be sick and he'd pull over, and once she'd nodded off, he stuck some '80s on the radio for me and we had a good aul' chat. I realised my German isn't so bad after all.

After I'd settled Saz into bed, made sure she was lying on her side, etc, I headed home and lay awake in bed listening to music for what seemed like hours, thinking everything over. I mainly listened to the Metallica concert from last summer (thanks, Noodles) and got goosebumps remembering how amazing it was. I love Munich, and it feels like home now, but I miss Dublin terribly at times. The smell of it, even. I hate the smell of the brewery, but now that I can't smell it anymore, I miss it!

It's funny, because last night was nothing more than a regular Erasmus piss-up, but I learned a lot from it, about friendship, about the kindness of strangers, the callousness of certain men... I probably sound really pretentious right now, but I'm not trying to be. Every time I write in here about Munich, I feel like I've learned something new about myself, people and life in general. I suppose I shouldn't have expected anything less. I was told this would be a life-changing experience, and it is. At least, so far.

I can't believe I've been here two months tomorrow...shit...

Anyway, enough self-searching and philosophical rambling for today.

I cannot wait to rock out tomorrow night. Finally. If I have to sit through another evening of indie, I am going to DIE.

Song of the day: Metallica - Nothing Else Matters.

More Munich madness (see what I did there?)

2009-04-22T17:29:00.000+02:00

Munich still kicks ass. Although I keep dreaming of Dublin...and my mother's Sunday dinners...

Let's see...what can I unravel from my jumbled thoughts of the last few days...

Last weekend was great fun, despite all of the shit from home. On Thursday, I attended another Erasmus party which involved one too many vodka and oranges, a swift kick to the shins of the American, an hour long argument with the Swede about whether or not Wait and Bleed is on Iowa (it is not, I told him over and over - I really do sound like a crazed Slipknot superfan), throwing up in the U-Bahn station and being carried home by an unidentified Brummie hockey player (who I saw the other day on the way back from Pennymarkt - cringe). It was an eventful evening, from what I can remember. I woke up fully clothed, with even my Docs still laced up, and a broken glass at my feet. My head was fuzzy, but I was filled in later on about my rather classy misadventures. Nothing like puking in a Tube station in a brand new dress.

Why does nobody dress up over here?

It's becoming increasingly apparent to me that these Erasmus parties (thrown by the ever-present, ever-cheery MESA) are nothing more than piss-ups, where everybody shuffles around in their jeans, half-dancing and half trying to hook up with each other (I pulled, or was pulled rather, by a Polish girl - score!) but nobody really gives a shit (except for the Italian girls, one of whom wears lipliner no matter what the occasion and absolutely HAS to be sent the dress code in advance otherwise she simply CANNOT MAKE IT to the party). Such is the beauty of these parties. Nobody notices when one can no longer stand.

The next one is on Friday. I can't wait.

On Saturday, I finally managed to drag the girls out to a lovely Goth club, in the Kultfabrik, called Refugium. They were all terrified before we even got inside, and even more so when we did (being stared out by a table of hardcore Goths didn't really put them at ease). But, a couple of blood-red shots and some Combichrist later and they were all getting into the swing of things. The place itself was fantastic. The decor was amazing; all grey walls, red roses, everything lit by candlelight. Most of the people in there were fairly hardcore, but they were welcoming and didn't pick on us for being different. Charley and Clare went home early, having had enough Darkwave and strobe lighting for the night, but Saz and I stayed on till 4 and enjoyed the ambience, as it were. She got a bit upset at one point, but I managed to cheer her up. And then the DJ played Closer, which is impossible to resist dancing to, and all was well again.

Of course, I was in my element. I don't frequent goth clubs as much as I used to, because I prefer to hear a mix of different genres over the course of a night out, but Refugium was very special. And the music was fantastic. It was nice to finally know the songs and feel a bit more at home.

I still have a dreadful metal craving though....hopefully it will be satisfied next weekend...

I started uni yesterday. I did a radio journalism class with Saz, and it actually wasn't as horrible as we'd anticipated it would be. The German was pretty easy to follow and everybody was really nice. The insitute we're in reminds me so much of uni back home, but it's also completely different. Their radio studio makes me yearn for ours, and the lecturer thought we both looked completely subversive (that's the problem with Criminal Damage dresses) and strange but I think we'll manage to fit in okay. ECTS points are not easily achieved over here, especially not in practical classes (which accounts for all of mine) but hopefully it won't be too hard.

I'm dreading tomorrow, though. It's so nerve-wracking.

I haven't been homesick lately. I miss rocking out with Noodles and having girly chats with Scooby, but I know that it'll be twice as awesome when I finally get back so I'm not too worried. I miss all of the lads from back home, though, because over here I don't really have anybody to headbang with (not yet, anyway). Rock Im Park is only six weeks away, which seems ridiculous. That'll be an excuse to headbang anyway. I can't believe I'm going to get to see Slipknot again! Eek!!

The emo is dealing a bit better with my absence. He's been keeping busy, and now that he has something to look forward to (ie coming over here to see me in June) he's been a lot more upbeat. I worry about him obsessing too much about what I'm doing and who I'm seeing. I don't want him to waste any time. I hope he's happy. I hope I can make him happy.

I can't believe I've been here for almost two months. Soon I'll be halfway through my time here. It feels completely unreal. I probably say this a lot, but this is one of the best experiences of my life. I want to get everything out of it that I possibly can, and I think I am so far. I know it's going to be over before I know it. According to Tar, who's been in Vienna since last September, it's been the quickest year of his life. I didn't believe him when he first said it, but now I do.

I want this to slow down, it's going by too fast...

Song of the day: Foo Fighters - Everlong.

Lies, Let downs...and love

2009-04-17T19:11:00.000+02:00

I sat down to write this and now I'm not even sure about what I have to say.

I'm not in the best frame of mind. I'm viciously hungover, last night is only coming back in parts, and news from home has made me question everything all of a sudden. I hate that this is happening, because I know that it's exactly what he wants, but I'm only human and I cannot pretend that this doesn't hurt, because it does. I keep asking myself, when will this end, when will he give up, how much more can I be expected to take - questions that will remain unanswered for quite some time, I'm sure, if the last eleven months are anything to go by...

Next month, I will have been single for an entire year. It's an accomplishment that I am very proud of, although it seemed at times to be the worst idea I'd ever had. The last eleven months have been great and horrible.I've laughed more than I ever have before. I've cried more tears than I thought a human body could produce.

I'm still here, though. Somehow.

I have to stop and think about writing all of this down, because sometimes it doesn't even seem real. If I saw it in a film, I would question its' validity as a plausible storyline. But it happened. And, sadly enough, it's still happening.

Last May, I ended a hugely destructive relationship and foolishly thought my problems would then be over. In reality, my nightmare was only just beginning. Over the last eleven months, I have had every aspect of my character torn to shreds, my friends harrassed, my love interests warned to stay away from me, rumours started, blogs written, phone calls made, etc, etc. People I've met for the first time claim to already know enough about me to keep their distance. I lost all of my friends except for a small few, and had to completely rebuild my life as a result. It wasn't easy, and I'm not going to pretend that I felt stronger instantly. Strength is something I've had to build up over time, sometimes by acting, often by refusing to react. I've been pushed to my very limits and, I'm not going to lie, I felt like giving up at times.

I have new friends and a new life now, and I'm finally happy. Unfortunately, somebody else's happiness depends on my being unhappy, and thus, efforts are still being made to destroy everything I've built.

I was not solely responsible for the break-up and neither was he. At least I have the guts to own up to that fact.

I know that a lot of people believe him, and think that I'm a selfish, manipulative, narcissistic bitch. They think I control my friends, that I'm devoid of feeling, that I'm completely and utterly self-involved. None of that is the truth. None of anything he says about me is true.

That may be me trying to manipulate you, though, so watch out.

I can't convince anybody that I'm not who he says I am, all I can do is keep living my life and trying to be the best person I can be. I don't care if people think the worst of me. I know who I am, and my friends know who I am. Unfortunately, he refuses to stop trying to ruin my life and eleven months on, it's not only pathetic, but almost psychotic too. Several attempts have been made to turn my friends against me, by encouraging them to "see the light". When they refused to see things his way, they were punished in much the same way I have been punished. They wanted to retaliate, but the problem with that is that, no matter what they say or do of their own accord to stand up for themselves, he will find a way to twist it and convince others that they are only doing what they are told.

So we all must sit back and take it, keep our mouths shut and do our best to continue on with our lives.

But still he persists.

Last night, a few of my closest friends watched as he pathetically forced himself on Star and some of her friends in a bar. He even went home with them. I was so shocked when they told me, that I almost fainted. But really, I shouldn't be surprised at all. This kind of shit has become typical of my life. Something similar happened in another bar last weekend. He pretends that my friends are his friends, when they clearly are not. It sounds ridiculous, but it's true.

I sometimes wonder why he gets his kicks from trying to destroy my life. Has he nothing better to do? Maybe it seems like I have nothing better to do than write this blog. But this needs to be written, not just for me but for anybody who is wondering why I am the way that I am. Nobody but Saz, who witnessed almost everything, will ever know how bad it was, how bad it is. Trying to understand helps. I don't expect any pity, unlike him. I'm not going to pretend to be a fucking saint. I've made some bad decisions. I've made lots of mistakes. I admit that. But I'm trying my best and I'm completely and utterly honest with everybody about who I am and what I've done.

What Star did last night was unforgivable. I don't know how I'm ever going to trust her again, but I love her and I know that I'll have to try. It sickens me that this so-called man cannot let it go after eleven months of torturing me. I'm starting to wonder if it will ever end. I cherish my life and those closest to me. I could not bear to lose it all again and I will not let that happen. I have worked too fucking hard for this.

I know this will probably fuel the fire, and I'm prepared for that. I just had to write.

Song of the day: Slipknot - Dead Memories.