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

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

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:
  16. Not Enough
  17. Spellbound
  18. 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?

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 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

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

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

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


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

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


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


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

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

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

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

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

That's what you get

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Song of the day: Paramore - Decode.

What a life I do lead

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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