My last weekend in Dublin...

...was spent in Wicklow! Through no fault of my own, I managed to spend my last weekend before Germany in somewhere other than the city that is so close to my heart. Funnily enough, I had a fantastic time! Well, in retrospect anyway. Besides, Thursday night I headed out to Wagamamas and my favourite gay bar for one last time with Noodles, Stella and the emo. We even met Pauline Mc Lynn (aka Mrs Doyle) and were all totally starstruck!

Anyway, on to the final weekend. On Friday, I went to a 21st in Newtownmountkennedy (longest place name in Ireland - what fun trivia), which is a place that needs no introduction because there is nothing there of interest. It was a joint party, thrown by two lads, best friends and stoners of the highest degree. I was quite close with one of them for a while actually, but lately he's considered me not even worth acknowledging, which sucks. I'd ask him about it, but he's not one for talking. Or listening, for that matter. I was dreading seeing him, and to be honest I had no interest in going to his birthday party (I was invited though, funnily enough) and either being ignored or having to endure the ridiculous show he puts on for everyone (I happen to believe I caught a glimpse of the man underneath once upon a time, although given what's happened since then, that may be highly naive of me). Lately, he's been hitting on Star (he knows her through me, and is well aware that we are involved and have been for a long time) and so, I decided to swallow my pride and put up with the bullshit for her sake. The upside was that the party was being held in a swanky four-star hotel (my second in one week!) and we had our own room. It was gorgeous; all white, with a massive double bed and flatscreen TV. It was a fantastic place for pre-drinks (and post-drinks, for that matter).

I was dreading going downstairs and facing all of the people who hated me for no apparent reason (there are lots, and they were all there), so I was glad of the nagin in my stomach by the time I was dragged down. Birthday boy number one was very pleased to see Star, embracing her as if she were the love of his life. He made a face at me, and grudgingly gave me a hug so fake he might as well have commissioned somebody else to do it for him. I wished him a happy birthday and smiled that kind of half-smile/half-sneer I usually give people without meaning to - it seems to come out even when I try to hide my displeasure. He didn't thank me for the text message the day before, his actual birthday, but he mumbled something half-assed that I chose to ignore. He spent the rest of the night cracking onto Star, asking her for a birthday kiss (she declined) and bragging about the size of his hotel suite (she told him ours was just fine). I downed so many vodka and Cokes in the process that I have very little recollection of what I said and did, although I do know I kept my distance from him so as not to cause a scene (although he did deserve a smack, it has to be said).

However, I did manage to make peace with birthday boy number two, who was under the false impression that I had told him to fuck off at some stage. I finally got the chance to clear it up after months of worry, and also thanked him for being sweet to me over the summer, when the other one left me alone in a bar while he hit on random girls. I also addressed a feud between me and a guy I have great respect for, as there has been tension between us recently for reasons I am still unaware of - I went up to him and yelled "WHY DO YOU HATE ME!?" at the top of my intoxicated lungs. He was drunk too, and it's all sorted now. Here's a lovely pic of me and his girlfriend, both off our faces.

Needless to say, Star and I drank the bar dry, and afterwards headed to the residents' bar, in which I got a sickly sense of deja vu and realised I'd been in there stoned off my face one sunny June afternoon. I downed another vodka and Coke after that. I don't even know how we managed to make it back upstairs, but we did, and we also somehow had sex, but in my mind it was quite like the Smack My Bitch Up video - over the covers, lights on, really really fucked up. It was fun though, from what I can remember. She complained the next morning that her housmates were going to be disappointed in her for losing all her dignity. She also complained after I woke her up at ten to get breakfast. I felt like such a junkie that morning, sitting there surrounded by members of both the lads' families, clad in the same outfit from the night before. Did I mention I slept with my make-up on? Bleh. Our room ended up costing double what we'd been told (her punishment for not sleeping with him, I reckon) but it didn't matter in the end. We drove home in her car with the sun shining, shades covering our hungover eyes, and the Arctic Monkeys blasting out of the stereo. A fitting end if ever there was one. And, I suppose, in retrospect, it was a fun night...

After a power nap and a work-out that I still can't understand how I did, I got myself together and stumbled back in the direction of the city. I bought the newest issue of Dubliner magazine for the bus journey to Bray, which turned out to be a mistake because it got me very upset to be leaving Dublin, and before I knew it, I was back in the emo's bedroom, fondly known to me as the crypt. We discussed the night before, and he wasn't too pleased to hear that I'd slept with Star. He'd insisted prior to Friday that I tell him if we ended up fucking, but in the end I think he'd rather not have known. The situation with him is becoming more and more complicated, but there's nothing I can do to make it better because I feel very strongly for both of them, and I'm not ready to give her up yet. Still, I understand where he's coming from. I was actually sad to have to head back home the next day, but my mother was cooking Sunday dinner for me for the last time and had insisted I be there. I was late, having not been able to drag myself out of bed (I also took a leisurely stroll down Grafton Street with a Butler's hot chocolate, just smelling the Dublin air and being nostalgic about the great times I'd had there) and she wasn't pleased with me. She was even less pleased when the emo turned up on her doorstep. Again. I wonder why she hasn't questioned the nature of our relationship yet, but I suppose she just thinks he and I are close the same way Noodles and I are (little does she know...).

Saz and I are going shopping tomorrow, no doubt so that we can have time to freak out and whatnot, and after that I'm seeing Star for dinner and drinks (as per her previous request). Wednesday morning is going to be my last chocday with Noodles (our tradition; basically a day to drink as much hot chocolate as possible while discussing life and all its' randomness) and my last day in work. Thursday is me and Saz's going away party. Friday is my family dinner (to which the emo is being dragged along after I promised my grandmother he would eat something). Saturday...I'm leaving. In the meantime, I have to somehow get my life into a suitcase, see all of my favourite people one last time, clean out my bedroom (taking the majority of my posters down last night was particularly painful), soak up as much of this city as I possibly can, and tie up every loose end imaginable. I don't know how the hell I'm going to do all of this while simultaneously preparing myself to move to a different country for six months...but I'm going to do my very best.

Song of the day: Radiohead - 15 Step.

London calling

So, as I've probably already mentioned about a hundred times, my parents got me a trip to London for my 21st, and Noodles, one of my closest friends, decided to accompany me (partly cos he'd never been, partly cos he was the only one who could afford it). We got up at 4AM to catch our flight, and a million things went wrong over the course of the trip, but we kept laughing and it was all totally fucking worth it in the end because we had the best weekend ever!! London is my favourite city in the world next to Dublin. It is the only other city I feel comfortable in, and the fashion and atmosphere are just unbelievable. Although I'm hoping Munich will live up to it, in a way I don't think it will because, truly, nowhere compares to London.

Anyway, we arrived early Friday morning and came face to face with our first problem; the hostel we'd booked was SHIT and in the dodgiest area possible. Remembering a helpful person in King's Cross station who put us up when we were stranded last summer, I rushed Noodles to the same place and we begged the (very helpful) woman there to help us find somewhere to sleep for two nights. Not only did she oblige, but for only thirty pounds more, she put us up in a four star hotel on Great Portland Street (fancy as fuck, in other words). We ended up with an en-suite bathroom, flat screen TV, double bed, security, a place to keep our stuff, huge wardrobe and heating. In other words, the exact opposite to what we would've had in the hostel. It really made the trip for us, and we went back to thank the woman in King's Cross as soon as we could.

The rest of our first day was spent in the London Dungeons, one of my favourite parts of any trip there. I've been five times in total, and I love it more each time I go. Of course, I overdid it in the gift shop buying pressies for the emo and Sweeney Todd themed shot glasses, but we got the funniest photos of us ever on the rides (Noodles even managed to give the thumbs-up to the camera!) and it was really good fun, as always. Unfortunately, I got quite ill as the day wore on, even dragging Noodles back to the hotel early from dinner because of it. We waited an hour or so until I sort of half recovered, and he convinced me to go out anyway. I was really glad I did in the end, because even though I was still fairly ill, we had the best night. We went to this amazing club in Camden called the Electric Ballroom. It was Friday night, so Sin City was the theme, which is basically metal, punk, rock, etc on the first floor and old-school rock and metal on the second. I'd been before, but this time was more fun because there wasn't the bullshit of having to leave early (and the company was better, although I did miss Saz). The music was amazing and the hottest DJ EVER was there! Apparently a lot of people were trying to pull me, but I didn't notice any...




Now, on to Saturday. We slept late, and then excitedly prepared for another trip to Camden. We were lucky because our hotel was only two Tube stops from Camden, so it was insanely handy. Camden is my absolute favourite spot in London. I really feel at home there, which sounds like bullshit, but it's the truth. The atmosphere is indescribable. We shopped (well, I did while Noodles gave his honest opinion), had four quid chinese in the Lock (where we managed to sit down next to two lovely lads from Dungarven) and shopped some more! I don't even want to think about the amount of money I spent, but the clothes are fucking amazing and I wouldn't change it for the world! Oh, and of course we had to make a trip to possibly the coolest shop in the entire world:



That night, being that it was Valentine's after all, we had a fairly romantic dinner in a restaurant up the road from our hotel. The food was all homemade, reasonably priced and amazing. If I were a restaurant critic, I'd be able to put it better but I'm not so that will have to do! We decided to head out to the Electric Ballroom again, because on Saturday nights Shake is the theme, which is 80s, 90s, pop, disco on the first floor and party hits on the second. We knew the crowd and atmosphere would be completely different to the night before, so we gave it a go. Oh, before I forget, the Ballroom bouncers are the soundest lads. They were sooo nice to us, considering we looked a bit mad and terribly young compared to everyone else. I bought a pink dress earlier in the day, on Noodles' advice, that's not really my style, but I kinda fell in love with it, and it's by one of my favourite labels, Criminal Damage (shit I spent a lot of money in that shop...), so I decided I couldn't really go wrong. It worked out perfectly, because I wore it that night to Shake, with a denim mini underneath, fishnets and knee-length Cons. Everyone thought I was either pop-punk or 80s, which suited me down to the ground.



The night was amazingly fun, especially because it's not really our scene (although I love clubbing every now and again). We danced the night away to Wham!, The Human League, Britney Spears and everything in between. There were quite a few characters there, too, and we came up with names for all of them. Two in particular who spring to mind were the Hammond, a man so short and cute, but who pulled gorgeous girls all night long, and Momma's Boy, a boy of no more than 17, dressed in a too-big shirt his mother clearly picked up for him, who spent the night freaking people out by dancing at them. I got hit on a lot that night, which is the one thing I prefer about the rock scene - men aren't as forward, or sleazy for that matter. The bar staff at Shake were the same as Sin City, and knew our drink orders by heart by the end. We had a great laugh with them, especially because they got into the spirit almost as much as we did (despite being hardcore metalheads)! The drinks were crazy cheap, and we were fairly hammered both nights in fairness, plus the taxi back to the hotel was a measly four pounds each so we were sorted! We even talked the night guy into giving us a nightcap in the lobby when we arrived in at 4AM.


On Sunday, we unfortunately had to head back home. But, before we did that, we headed back to Camden one last time to have breakfast in my favourite cafe in all of London, which ended up lasting about two hours. It was delicious and really hit the spot. We somehow managed to drag our asses to Heathrow on time to catch our flight home. Once I arrived home, the emo turned up and I got to shower him with presents. He didn't leave until this afternoon, despite how exhausted I was. He sent me the most unconventional Valentine's card of all time, too, which I loved (but mine was still better!) because we both hate the holiday. Now that there are only twelve days left until I head off to Munich, he wants to see me as much as possible. The only problem with that is the amount of other people demanding my time, including Star who he is not pleased I am seeing at all... Still, I have very little time left and I'm certainly not going to waste it being upset. Let my last days in Dublin begin! It's time for sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, and this is my absolute favourite photo from the London trip. It perfectly encapsulates how much fun we were having (or how drunk we were...hmm...).



Song of the day: Rammstein - Sonne.

My 21st

This is probably going to end up being far too long, but I finally have five minutes to write about my birthday and I have to do it or else I never will!

Okay, so, I turned 21 last Thursday. It wasn't really a big deal for me, but apparently it was to everybody else in my life. I was told by a woman in work to do something nice for my mother, so I had the lad I do nights with make up a huge hand-tied bunch of flowers for her (those are the bouquets with the water in the bottom) while I tried to put my feelings into words on one of those little cards. I ended up writing something along the lines of "Well done for surviving the past 21 years - here's to the next 21!!". Work on Wednesday night was really fun, too, because a few of them surprised me with a cake and a card. And then the night lad got me another cake and a giant Toblerone too! I was really touched by all of it, because I finally feel like I've made a place for myself there and I really don't want to leave... Anyway, I got home and hid the flowers in the porch until my mother fell asleep. I thought I'd been rumbled at one stage, but she swore the next day that she hadn't seen them.

I woke up excited on Thursday morning, my 21st birthday. I had made an appointment earlier in the week to get my second tattoo done that day, and the anticipation began building up as soon as I opened my eyes. I was horrified to find it was snowing again (jogging in the snow is not easy) but I brightened up when I opened my bedroom door and discovered presents, cards and a big 21st balloon! My brother and sister got me a new hairdryer, and my parents (well, my mother really) got me a weekend in London and a St. Christopher medal which is supposed to protect me when I go away. I'm not religious, but it was a sweet idea nonetheless. I managed to work out, shower and eat breakfast before the nerves really started to kick in. Noodles was a bit late for meeting up with me, too, because of the snow, which made it even worse. As soon as he arrived, he dragged me to the tattoo place, assuring me I'd be grand. It took twenty minutes and hurt like hell. A woman did it, and she wouldn't let Noodles squeeze my hand for fear of me moving and it being screwed up as a result. She discussed lunch plans with another bearded tattoo artist at one stage and I almost forgot about the excruciating pain for a moment. The tattoo is simple and cute, a red heart in a black star, and is in between my shoulder blades. It was only really meant to mark the day. It still hurts like hell, though, and my buds are getting quite sick of rubbing cream into it! Still, I love it, it was worth it, end of story.

All of my family came over for drinks that evening before I headed out with my parents and siblings for dinner. I was a bit tense because I was terrified that the snow would keep people from making it for drinks (and in the end Scooby didn't) but I had to hope for the best. We ate in Yamamori, which meant I had to explain the menu but nobody complained so it was grand. My mother and I went for cocktails afterwards. I took her to my favourite gay bar, and she didn't even notice it was one because we had a hugely emotional, drunken chat and got on better than we have in a long time. I tottered off to the bar once I'd put her on a bus. Noodles met me outside and informed me that not only was the emo waiting to surprise me, but Star was on her way also. I knew we were all in for a mad night, and the emo didn't cope with me and Star very well in the end... She tried really hard, but gave up and was just all over me instead. I didn't really mind. She turned up with a red rose for me and I was touched. She's not the kind to show emotion, so it was really sweet of her. Lots of people turned up in the end, too, and we got hammered and danced the night away so it was great fun!





We ended up in Frodo's that night after an arduous hike through the snow. Noodles and I fell. The emo did not. We were mad at him for it. Well, actually, Noodles was pissed off because of his behaviour earlier in the night. I was just annoyed due to drunkenness. The emo and I were freezing on the futon that night, but it was fun anyway. Noodles and I showered at his place on Friday morning, and then headed to town for lunch and dress shopping. I found one eventually, and he bought it for me as a birthday present. We headed back to mine, I changed, and we set off again to Frodo's for movies and food. Noodles had to leave early, so it was just Frodo, Stella, the emo and me watching V For Vendetta, which seems fairly random, but wasn't really. We had more blankets on the futon that time round. Stella fed us the next morning. Her and Frodo are my favourite couple of all time.

I squeezed a workout and a nap to In Rainbows in before I started getting ready on Saturday night. I felt slightly self-conscious in my dress, but I was feeling the Goth vibe and just went with it, blood red lipstick and all. I met up with Noodles and we did nagins before heading to the bar. This is my favourite photo of myself from the entire night, despite the fact I'm knacking it up in it:





Anyway, we headed to the bar and there were people there waiting for us with seats and mad presents! Let's see... Stella made me a box of chocolate skulls, Chris got me a Batman book starring me, Saz made me a card with her as Hayley Williams and me as Lauren Conrad, detailing our friendship so far, the emo did a fucking awesome pic for me, Scooby got me a 'Where's Dildo?' book and a brand new All Hope Is Gone Slipknot tee... It was madness! I was so happy! My friends are all so creative, too, which makes their presents even more thoughtful. We got hammered and danced the night away again. Star, the emo and Dylan were all there. I hooked up with all of them (Dylan for the first time) but the emo took me home, as per our previous agreement. Some spa was pissing me off on the bus and he told him off in his own dry, witty manner. I apparently ate half a block of cheese when we got back to mine, but I don't remember. I got my birthday sex anyway, so I was happy (although Frodo tried to get in there first).

We woke up late Sunday morning, and my mother kindly agreed to feed the emo. I bet him a tenner he couldn't wear my drainpipes to dinner. Not only did he wear them, they were fucking falling off him! (haha now everyone will know his shame!!!)



I was quite jealous. He convinced me to let him stay another night, so I made him watch Skins. He got quite into it in the end. It was a random couple of days. We talked so much, and yet, I could've gone on for another fucking week. I don't think I will ever tire of his company. He told me he loved me, too, and I desperately wanted to say it back but I couldn't get the words out. I guess my fear is still sort of holding me back. I know I'll just blurt it out some day at the worst time possible, but I think he understands me so I'm not too worried. I think if I were going to get serious with anyone, though, it'd be him... And now I'm going off on a tangent.

Happy fucking birthday to me! This is the happiest I've been in a really long time, and I could not ask for better friends, better family or a better life. I can't believe it's taken me so long to realise that I'm not who certain assholes think I am... Luckily, I have people around me to remind me every single fucking day. And I still look too young to be 21!!!

Here are two of my favourite people, who I haven't known that long but feel as if I've known forever. I love you both more than words could ever say. Team JIR forever!!






Song of the day: AC/DC - Back In Black (it made sense to me earlier).

Fucking snow

I woke up to find that my lovely Dublin was covered in snow, and more of it fell throughout the day and night. I'm not a big fan of snow, mainly because it's cold and wet and difficult to jog on (I didn't fall this morning, though - woo!) but, I must admit, ploughing through it after work this evening, everything around me looked beautiful. But then I had to wait twenty minutes for a bus that never came, and my mother consequently had to trek out to rescue me, and then she spent the entire car journey complaining about...me...so I kind of ended up hating it again. I'm turning 21 on Thursday, and it'd better not fucking snow that day or I will go MENTAL.

Let's see... I spent the entire weekend with my emo, which was lovely, although he scared the shit out of me on Friday night by turning up at my my living room window and waving at me... He's a strange boy. We had quite a quiet night (well, for a bit anyway...ahem) but it was fun. Unfortunately, it was quite bittersweet because, after we hung out all day Saturday, I had to leave him to go on a date with Star. I was quite anxious about the date, because I didn't know what to expect, and also because I knew I had to tell her about him. It was awkward at first, because she knew she'd fucked up big time, but once we had a few drinks and some good music, we settled into it and it was actually quite fun. She took the news of me and my emo well (although she is completely and utterly sickened by him - I'm not, I could eat him up with a spoon!!) but also made it clear that she intends to fight for me, especially at my birthday thing this weekend...

Anyway, we left early enough and I headed over in the direction of the emo's place. I got a call from a very tipsy Noodles en route, and we decided to meet up at the bus stop near his house and drink a concoction of whiskey and Cidona out of a plastic bottle - very classy indeed. We were in absolute fits, especially after a failed attempt at hiding from the emo that left my drainpipes muddy and me very confused the morning after. The emo had had a bath and got quite tipsy in preparation for my arrival (he had clean hair and smelled very sweet, which isn't quite as odd as the fact that he insists we hold hands constantly while walking down the street..). When we got to his place, we drank more and got fairly silly. I untied his shoelaces and put his phone in the fridge behind the cheese, which is quite clever if you get the in-joke. The rest of the night didn't exactly go to plan, but we had fun anyway. We always do. Time flies when I'm with him, and it takes me forever to get tired. I usually keep talking until I fall asleep.

The morning after, Sunday, we woke up tired and confused. His mother finally got to meet me. She seemed quite shocked to find me spinning around on his desk chair reading Kevin Smith's autobiography while he sulked in bed fully clothed with his back to me. She made some comment about me being his girlfriend. I didn't correct her. She was lovely though, and she gave me a birthday present and a card which was so sweet of her. His entire family sort of crowded around me at one stage, just before I left, as if I was somebody amazing. I'm not, really, but they were all so nice (not quite as mad as mine, but still lovely). The emo was ill all morning and quite upset with me for not telling Star to go fuck herself the night before, but in the end he sort of understood. I know he's dreading seeing us together at my 21st, but he also knows that I am closer to him than I thought I could be to anyone. I don't know how he managed to convince me to trust him, but I do. He makes me believe in love again, which is mad to me, but in a fantastic way... (Star is somebody I could be serious with, but her circumstances right now lead me to be very wary).

And now I'm gushing. I had a family dinner that night, to celebrate my birthday and my gran's because they're only a few days apart. The food was fantastic. I don't eat much when I'm around the emo, because he enjoys starvation. For a long time I couldn't figure out who he reminded me of, but I just noticed a poster of Kurt Cobain on my wall and I think that's who it is. It's not typical Cobain, he has brown hair and a beard and is lying topless on a bed looking annoyed. He looks skinny, but not half as skinny as he was later on in his career. I think it must be one of the earliest photos of him, but I love it, and now it's going to remind me of the emo forever.

My mother told me I have to clean out my room before I go away. I have four weeks to do it. I can't even believe that I'm going away so soon, and those four weeks are going to be insane too. I'm so looking forward to leaving, but the stupidest things are already making me wish I wasn't. I was so sad leaving the hairdresser last Thursday, because I knew I wouldn't be back there for six months at least. It seems stupid, but it's amazing how much one gets used to things...

Oh, here's how my hair looked afterwards. It is no longer that straight, but the roots still look fantastic. At least for the time being.















And now I'm rambling so I'll shut up. I wrote lots today, though, and I'm going to write more in a little bit, so that's good. I was running today and I heard a song that just inspired me to sit for hours and write and write and write. I really got the creative juices flowing, it was a good day. Fucking snow though. Grr...

Song of the day: Radiohead - Nude.

Exit Music

I was naive to think that this year, this month even, would pass by quietly without my illness rearing its' ugly head. I never expected to write in here about the fact that I suffer from depresssion, but my mind is clogged with thoughts of despair, and so, I must do something to distract myself.

I was very sick this morning. I almost collapsed in the middle of my morning jog, and only managed to make it back to my house in time to pass out on my bathroom floor, writhing in pain and cursing my mother for only having painkillers for fucking headaches. I'm not going into any gory details, but let's just say I was throwing up for a good part of the following hour and a half, not to mention writhing in pain, willing it to be over sooner rather than later. This routine is familiar to me. I've been ill a lot over the past few months, as a result of pushing myself too hard with regards to exercise, not getting enough sleep, not eating enough, drinking too much and indulging in certain substances that tend not to sit well in my stomach. Being sick is fine, I can deal with that. But it slowly dawned on me that my first depressive episode in weeks, and indeed the first of 2009, was beginning and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Depression is something I've been dealing with since I was about 14, although back then I didn't really know what it was. I was properly diagnosed with the illness last summer, but refused to go on anti-depressants because it's not half as bad as it used to be, and as far as I'm concerned I can handle it. Today was quite difficult, though, I must admit. I barely ate anything at all, I couldn't walk properly (even when my mother ordered me to go to the bank in the village), I was bursting into tears at nothing (for example, a Hoobastank video on Kerrang!) and once I settled in bed, I couldn't force myself to get up. My mother and I have been fighting a bit lately, because we're both so stressed out and have completely opposite personalities. At first, she accused me of smoking again (when I was quitting, I cheated a few times and got quite ill as a result) which offended me greatly, but once I told her what was really up, she left me alone and asked no further questions. That's something I really love about my mother, she knows when to not say or do anything at all.

Now that it's easing towards night time, I can feel the darkness in my mind moving away slowly but surely, which means that it's almost over for another day. I shudder to think when it will return again, and it's something that really worries me about going to Germany, but the reality of it is that I choose to live with it, and so I must deal with the consequences of that decision. If I were in college or work today, it would have been slightly more difficult, but at the same time, it wasn't the worst it's ever been either, and I know I would've dealt with it no matter where I was or what I was doing.

I'm incredibly lucky with the friends I have - Noodles in particular. He understands that sometimes I need to be talked through it, while others I have to wallow alone in the misery. I sheltered the emo from it, though, because I don't really think he needs to be involved in that side of me. Not yet, anyway. I detest showing weakness or vulnerability, and so this isn't the easiest entry for me to write. But in a way, I'm glad I wrote it, because I feel the weight has lifted off my ever so slightly shoulders now...

Song of the day: Exit Music - Radiohead (it reminds me of when I first started feeling this way, and it comforts me like a hot water bottle).

Wake... from your sleep
The drying of your tears
Today.. we escape
We escape

Pack and get dressed
Before your father hears us
Before.. all hell.. breaks loose

Breathe... keep breathing
Don't lose.. your nerve
Breathe... keep breathing
I can't do this.. alone

Sing us a song
A song to keep us warm
There's such a chill
Such a CHILL

You can laugh
A spineless laugh
We hope your rules and wisdom choke you
Now we are one
In everlasting peace
We hope that you choke.. that you choke
We hope that you choke.. that you choke
We hope that you choke.. that you choke

Sifting through the confusion

I'm blogging to sort through my thoughts, so bear with me...

Today was fairly random. I dragged my ass out of bed at the ungodly hour of 8AM so that I'd be in town on time to rescue the emo (as my brother said, "Ooh, was he all like 'HELP ME!! I can't function without Joey!") and drag him back to my house. It was fucking FREEZING, but we found ways to warm each other up, so it was totally worth it! And then we headed to town and had a late lunch, which was fucking delish!

Anyway, we ended up in Starbucks (which I don't like as much as Butler's, but on cold days such as these, it does the job) and stayed there for several hours. The conversation quickly turned to Germany, where I am heading in five weeks' time. I discovered that he's not quite as okay with the possibility of me hooking up with someone over there, which is understandable, as I thought he was. When I started whatever this is with him, it was only supposed to be casual and fun. But then we began falling for each other properly, and now he wants to make it official.

I want to be with him properly, of course I do, but in a lot of ways, I still don't think I'm ready for another relationship. There's no doubt in my mind that I am over my ex, but the scars from that relationship and the subsequent break-up are still healing. In fact, I'm not sure if they ever will. But that doesn't bother me, because I know that that won't hold me back when I find someone amazing. What does worry me, is that I think the emo might be that person. And I'm scared that I'm going to do something to fuck this up, purely because I am so used to being single and impulsive (no, I am not referring to sleeping around!). I love that, I don't want to give it up yet. I know that, if I were not going away, I would take a chance and be serious with him. Because I'm not staying here, I don't see the point in making a commitment just yet (that's not to say I won't when I get back).

The only problem with that is, I know he's terrified that I'm going to go away and forget about him. I'm not afraid of that happening, because I've never known anyone like him before, and I cannot imagine my life without him in it, even if we were just friends (which we are, underneath all of the sexual tension). I feel so spoiled by him, because he's so good to me, and he understands me, and he makes me laugh....and a million other wonderful things that I don't have enough space to write here. I am turning into an emo!!!!!

So, with all of this written down, one may wonder why I'm not taking the plunge and trying it out with him for a month before I go. The unforunate truth is, I can't right now. I know my heart and my head and I just can't at the moment. There is an awful lot to sort out, and at least I know now, finally, what it is that I want...

In other news, Noodles and I are heading to London the weekend after my 21st for my birthday present!!!! Others would come if only they weren't all so fucking broke! Anyway, London's fucking calling, man!!! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!


Song of the day: You - Radiohead (this band have a song for everything, I love them more every day).

Yet another week of madness

The week just gone was so hectic that I'm going to have to break it down into days. Yup, I am that cool.

Monday: My first exam, documentary studies. Not only was it ridiculously difficult, but I had to finish it in less than two hours just so I could catch the bus to work on time. Not fun. I don't even want to think about it, but I will stick a question from it in here to show how dreadful it was:
Q: Evaluate the implications for contemporary documentary makers of Rosen's assertion that 'in a universe of constructed simulations, there is no impossible standard for judging the epistemological adequacy of sign to object'.
I didn't do that one, thank fuck, but it was still bad!

Tuesday: I studied all day long until I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer. And then I fell asleep at 11PM, woke up at 1AM and couldn't get back to sleep. The emo had no credit. It sucked.

Wednesday: I had two german exams, the first was cultural studies and the second was literature. Both were horrible, but I managed to write down a load of rubbish anyway. It didn't matter either way, Saz and I were going to see Mindless Self Indulgence that night and I could barely focus my mind on anything else all day! I bought the two tickets months ago and we've been counting down to it ever since. We got dressed up in our miniskirts and Converse and practically skipped to The Academy. Of course, once we reached it we got a cold, hard dose of reality. It was an over-14s gig, and the crowd was predictably spotty, slutty, loud, rude and very, very young. We blended right in, given how short and young we look (although our sobriety was obvious among the falling over and vomiting).

The first band we saw were Dir En Grey, possibly the worst thing we have ever heard! The entire set comprised of growling and wailing. I love metal, but that shit was just noise! Next up were Bring Me The Horizon. By the time they came onstage, we'd already located the only other over-15 people in the place and were having a great laugh at everyone else. I was then hit on by a 15-year-old with dirty blonde hair stuck to his sweaty face, whose pick-up line involved telling me how much MSI suck (well done, kid). It was fantastically funny. And then MSI came onstage in all their fantastically crazy glory...and they opened with Shut Me Up and we forgot our age and jumped about like the little 15-year-olds we are inside. We were wonderfully sweaty by the end of it. They closed with Straight To Video and we could hardly believe it was over so soon. We have new respect for Jimmy Urine, who announced to everyone that his new name is Miley Cyrus. MSI are one of my favourite bands and one of the best I've ever seen live. People either love them or hate them, but I definitely know what side I'm on. One of the best parts of the night was looking to my right and seeing Saz jumping about happily, smiling bigger than I've seen her in a long time.

Thursday: I was exhausted after the gig, but I had to get up at 8AM so that I'd get enough study in before I had to head out for Scooby's 21st. I managed to, through some miracle, and I was very glad when I reached the bar and could start drinking. The night began well. We had a big crowd and Scooby was in great form. Unfortunately, everything kind of went to shit after a while. For one thing, Star was there and decided to drunkenly corner me and demand to hang out with me, even though I'd explained to her earlier in the week that I needed some time. She looked unbelievably sexy, though, and I kind of forgot what I'd said before after a few minutes with her (she's like a drug, it's ridiculous). She was all over me on the dancefloor, and I was too drunk to know any better. So there was lots of making out and groping and me being pushed against a wall. We drank more and more and more. One of my guy buds was behaving weirdly with me, and he and Star ended up all over each other on the dancefloor at one stage, which did not impress me in the slightest. Then Scooby's bag got robbed, with her brand new earrings in it, not to mention all of her other stuff. In the midst of all the drama of the robbery, Star pulled me aside and demanded we sort shit out. I told her repeatedly it wasn't the time, and she got very, very angry. We left things badly. It wasn't a good night.

Friday: I woke up sick, with In Rainbows on my stereo and a million text messages on my phone. I discovered I'd told the emo I was in love with him while wasted. Luckily, as always, he saw the funny side. I dragged myself out of bed, and was shocked to find that I looked even paler than usual. I put on my girly miniskirt and top, and my new Boosh hoodie and traipsed off, half feeling grunge and pretty, half ill. It was raining. I kept my hood up. I gave Saz all the juicy details on the walk up to college, interespersed with screams of "MSI were soooo AMAZING!!" We crammed a bit before our Globalisation exam, knowing deep down that it wouldn't do any good. The lecturer's exams are notoriously impossible. I had a big bottle of chocolate Yazoo, so I wasn't too bad. And the exam was okay in the end, surprisingly enough. Afterwards, we went shopping and I bought a new dress (that Scooby had on the night before), and then we had hot chocolate. I legged it home and got ready for Scooby's birthday dinner. It was in a fantastic Mexican restaurant. Her friends were lovely. Whenever she went to the bathroom, we excitedly discussed the surprise party the night after, that we'd all been planning in conjunction with her mother for weeks. Halfway through the meal, her sister got a call to say that Scooby's bag had been found. Her mp3 player, phone and camera were gone but her wallet and earrings were in it. It was fantastic news, and really made the night.

Saturday: I got up early for work, which I was dreading because I knew I'd be too excited about the surprise party to concentrate on anything. Luckily, the shift flew by and I was working with some of the most fun women in the shop, which was awesome! I legged it home afterwards to get ready. Saz arrived at 6 and the lads turned up shortly after. We sat in my room and had some pre-drinks before we left. I hadn't seen the emo in what seemed like forever, but for some reason I was nervous around him and we barely even hugged! The car ride to Kilcoole was great fun. We blasted the music, knocked back drinks and chatted excitedly about how surprised Scooby was going to be. Of course, she was. The look on her face was worth the trip over and her parents were so nice. Everybody had the best night, even though the music was cheesy as fuck. The emo and I legged it to a Chinese place at one stage and ended up eating chips in an alleyway. I know that sounds terribly knacker, but I prefer real moments like that because they feel much more romantic to me. Like when he cooked me dinner, which was so simple and relaxed that it was quite romantic (not to mention excellent foreplay). Anyway, it was lovely. And the party was fantastic. I love her so much, and I almost cried when I saw the look on her face when she walked in. We headed back to my place and had tea before the lads had to crawl back to Bray. The emo wanted to stay, but Saz and I were in the mood for a good gossip and sent him packing!

Sunday: And that brings me to today, which was boring as hell. I took my sis to see Twilight to celebrate her awesome exam results. I still hate Robert Pattinson! I miss everyone and now that I'm done with exams, I have time to write, hang out, go drinking, plan my 21st, prepare for Germany, etc, etc. I feel quite strange. I'm scared and excited to leave at the same time. There's so much to do. And this was probably boring. I'll shut up now.

Just Dance - Lady Gaga (catchy as fuck)