You can now find me here on Wordpress.

There's snow over there. I mean seriously, how could I resist?

I have Irish tomorrow. Plenty of various poems and stories to be learning, and at 7 o'clock I still haven't started.

Really need to go study, so this is a super short post.

Got some really bad news yesterday. I'll go into it more on Friday when I have the time.

Until then.

..when this week ends.

Greenday were onto something there I'd say.

Christmas tests tomorrow. I'm fecked. This Patrick Kavanagh stuff is refusing to go into my head. Not so much the general ideas and themes within his poetry, which I actually like, but moreso the techniques he uses to portray this subject matter. I know he consciously used rhyme and alliteration and allusions and all that jazz, but perhaps, just perhaps, he used these because they sounded nice and not because the repeat plosive consonants are actually saying he's lonely and feels separated and isolated from the community? If I entitled a post 'Problems with Back Packs' (note plosive consonants) do you automatically think "Well she's detached from everyone. How sad." I think not.

Not that I'm saying his techniques are just coincidental; clearly they're not. His poetry is too good for that. I'm not a narrow-minded ignorant prick who thinks poetry is a load of rubbish. I just think we'd be better off gaining a really good understanding into what the poetry means and how this is relevant or whatever, instead of going into the teeny tiny minute details. But than again, that's just my humble opinion.

Biology is after English. I really don't know how that's going to go. Our book is a pile of crap, no joke. It doesn't cover half the stuff that's actually asked in the exam. One would learn more from the introductions to each experiment in the Lab Manual book than you do from a chapter in my lovely Biology book, which will remain nameless, for now.

I'm hoping I have a good enough general overview of things to get by in Biology, but we'll have to wait and see how that all turns out. Fingers crossed anyway.

I'm sitting on the couch next to the tree and it's so pretty. The lights are so small, but yet they give such a warm, glowing light to the room. I have a rule of only allowing red and gold decorations on the tree so it's really rich looking. I love it. :)

I also did a bit of a display thing on the mantlepiece. There's a pretty big stone fireplace in this room with a thick, dark wooden ledge, so I put branches of Christmas tree and a few pieces of holly, along with some baubles and pinecones on it, and it complements the tree pretty nicely, even if I do say so myself.

There are still a lot of boxes strewn about the room, which I'll have to organise sometime soon, but there's still a hell of alot of decorations to be put up, and I am kinda busy this week. So maybe someone else would be kind enough to do it for a change. Although, on second thoughts, it probably wouldn't be satisfactory, so I should just do it.

Yes I am picky regarding decorations. I do want the place to look nice..jeez.

Last night was kind of nice. My mother was out and I put up the Christmas tree and played the guitar and uploaded lots of old photos to Facebook.

I got a little distracted when the Christmas lights came out and I decided to throw them over the guitar and take pictures of it. Only the pictures are crap because I had to use a phone and not my proper camera because a teacher has my memory card. (I'd like that back Ms. Begley, thanks.)

Today I really have to study. I have done practically nothing and I have a week of exams coming up. Got the results of our French Christmas aural back yesterday. Eh yeah, got 87%...pretty shit considering it was an ordinary level LC paper. Meh, I hate French anyway so I don't care too much.

First up on Monday is English and Biology. Kinda freaked about having to write 6 pages in 50 mins on Kavanagh, especially taking into account that I know nothing about his poetry. It's been ages since I wrote that one answer on him, and that took long enough considering I had reams of notes surrounding me on his work. We'll survive I'm sure. Also have unseen poetry and a reading comprehension. Unseen poetry = ugh. Reading comprehension = not so bad!

Biology...don't get me started. We haven't covered that many chapters though so I should get that done, and then have a look at exam paper questions, and if I know that it should be ok.

Wish me luck.

The last 'weekend' of the year is here. The last weekend of 2009 that will 'end'. My last 'weekend' being sixteen. Weekend is in inverted commas because when you're not at school, once you're on holidays, the weekends and weeks jumble up into one big week/weekend type thing. Just to explain to ye :)

The only thing is though, that this weekend won't be a very good one. Christmas exams starting Monday and I seriously need to study something. So looks like that'll be it for me for the next few days. Unless I go to town tomorrow. We'll see.

Although I was in last night. We had tickets to White Lies in the Opera House. It was a free GreenSpheres gig, so said we may as well go. We had fake IDs made, but needed to get them laminated. There's this Internet cafe in town that never closes, so we planned on going there to get them done, because Aisling had got IDs done there before. Anyway, after trying to ignore the old, creepy, foreign man, we asked could we get business card size laminating done. He said no, and that it wouldn't work. Shit. Aisling went in then and he was like 'No, it's broken'. So we left, but then saw yer man go out for a smoke, so Aisling RAN back down the street to ask the other guy at the desk, but apparently it was actually broken.

Then I rang 11850 (rip-off : do not use), and asked for laminating places in Cork. The guy on the phone was clueless, and was giving me places in Mallow and various business parks. So eventually I gave up on him. So we decided to head to North Main Street...in all fairness it would be one's first port of call when attempting to break the law. And it was successful! We thought. This internet café had a sign saying the did laminating, but when we went in they told us they'd gotten rid of the machine.

So we went up McCurtain Street. Hannah and Aisling were vanished out of sight (as in they were walking way ahead of us, not that they were dragged down an alleyway) so Liam and I sat outside the Metropole and talked while we waited for the other two to appear. They still hadn't emerged after about quarter of an hour, so then Liam suggested that maybe they'd been raped. We rang them and they said 'We're next'. Whether that was for the laminating or to be raped, I didn't know.

McCurtain Street is one awful street. Christ like, the building across from the Metropole is actually horrific. Above 'Cork Community Church' or what used to be Cork Community Church at least. Seriously, go have a look. In the daytime preferably. Anyway, they came out eventually, and we headed for the Opera House.

I got in grand with my ID and was in the queue in to the actual stage place with Liam...when the security guard came in and was like 'Can you stand out there for a minute?' because they wouldn't let the other two in with all the same IDs so I got pulled out.

To cut a long story short we argued for ages, but eventually gave up and ended up selling our ticket for €20. How bad. So we hung around talking to people for a while, and then went to Tribes with two guys who didn't get in either. So the five of us had chocolate brownies/scones and tea/coke and to be honest, it was still a good night. We had a laugh and was out until half 11 or 12.

Not bad for a school night.

We had a half day today. Caroline's mum kindly dropped us to Hannah's gaff. Hannah and I had Uncle Ben's rice. We made our Christmas wish lists. We had a Rocky bar each. We studied two chapters of Chemistry. Her rents and sister came home after a festive shopping spree. My mum collected me. Thank you, Hannah, for giving me a roof over my head when I have no home. :)

Sometimes you wonder if you've made mistakes. Mistakes only ever matter when they're to do with people. Are you going to miss someone? Have you gotten the completely wrong impression of someone you love? Have you messed up your own life?

Mistakes don't matter if you forgot to put the sugar into the cake mixture. But if you put the cake on a plate that had raw chicken on it just beforehand, that's still not a mistake. It only becomes a mistake when someone eats it.

Tomorrow we've got no school. Woo! I love that we live in a country where the Catholic Church has a ridiculous amount of power. It's wonderful. Tomorrow, while I'm supposed to be attending some form of a religious service, I will more than likely be drinking coffee, playing the guitar, and talking to my friends. All with a nice sprinkle of Internet time. It doesn't sound like too bad a day.


My mind is all over the place.

I feel stressed. It is a mere week until I begin my Christmas exams and I have yet to begin studying. I am freaking out that I am going to do badly, but I'm doing nothing about it. I sit here instead, searching various chords and tabs for whatever song pops into my head and then play it to my heart's content.

Despite the fact that each and every one of my books lies unopened in my bedroom.

This is an extremely worrying state of affairs.

I think I left my motivation behind in my Junior Cert exam centre.

Should go find that...

Making decisions is part of life. Everyday, each one of us makes some decision. What to wear; whether or not to put on make-up; to walk or get the bus; to get an Americano or a Cappucino; to cook dinner from scratch or throw on a pizza; to study Chemistry or Biology; to text back or not to text back. Each of these decisions, in their own little way, is important.

There are other decisions out there, alot more important though. How do you know which is the right way to go? That is, if there is even any correct choice. I had to make a decision yesterday and it was one of those decisions. Whichever route I chose, I knew I would regret my choice. There were pros and cons to both sides and I had to decide what to go with. My reasons for choosing wither were both for wrong reasons, but along with a friend, we made a decision.

I hate the decision we made. I'd have hated the alternative too. It's a catch 22. Wow, what a cliché. But it's the truth.

The only thing I'm scared about, in the aftermath of this decision, is that choosing the other option could have given me even more opportunities. I'm wondering had I chosen the other path, would it have changed my life? The other option would be to work on a project closely related to what I think I want to do with my life, just in a capacity that I don't want. And it's killing me inside to wonder if doing this project would open my eyes to the world and introduce me to people who could make my dream become reality.

Or am I over-analysing everything? Is it really not that big a deal at all? I should be in control of my own destiny. Sound engineering at 17 isn't going to give a life-long career, is it? The uncertainty in my mind will always be there, one way or another, and it's something I have to live with.

That's it.


As I sat in the window of a coffee shop yesterday, a friend made me go through the CHOICE process of decision-making, for the laugh. Here it is, in case you ever require such a system. You should so have listened in JC Religion..

Check out the facts.
Have you understood the influences?
Others can help, seek advice.
In quiet time examine your conscience, ask God for help.
Choose what you think is right.
Evaluate your decision afterwards.

So useful in a multitude of eventualities...

I would like to express my utmost apologies to you, my dear blog, for having ignored you for the past two weeks. I am so sorry, and I promise it will never happen again. Well it might during the next two weeks, but after that, definitely not.

Not a whole lot has happened over the past two weeks, and I guess that's partly why I haven't been blogging. In another way though, alot has been happening for me. Nothing ground-breakingly important, but just stuff.

People have been making me smile recently. On guy sent me a text, not a very interesting text, but the conversation that followed was simply nice. Nothing but a conversation about whatever popped into our respective heads, but it was just one of those text conversations that made me happy.

Someone else made me happy too. I've always thought they were lovely and funny, but this recent encounter was really nice. They helped me out as best they could, and later on made me smile by saying something no-one else could have said, or even thought of in the first place.

Guitars make me happy too. I like strumming away on my shiny black acoustic and singing a few notes in the safety of my bedroom. I love when it's dark and I get sick of studying, so I go sit on my comfy bed and play a choon or two.

I don't like people who think they're 'too mad' and show off to everyone who'll bother listening. I don't like people who think they know it all, and think they're better than everyone around them. In contrast, I like people who do know it all, but don't think their way is necessarily the right way.

This isn't a comprehensive list of my likes and dislikes, but a record of people who have been nice and not-so-nice over the past week.


I hate it when people don't text back.

...but ne'er a drop to drink.

Cork is submerged. And quite frankly, I like it! Yesterday, during the first class after lunch, the vice principal made an announcement over the intercom asking teachers to allow students use their phones to contact their parents. We were being allowed home early due to 'adverse weather conditions'. That's not necessarily a quote from anyone; I just thought it looked better in inverted commas.

I fecked on out of the place anyway. The problem is a bit bigger now though. Water was released from Inniscarra Dam during high tide, and so the city flooded. Washington Street, Grand Parade, over by the Mercy, Western Road and all around UCC, out the Carrigrohane Road and anywhere in between were turned into rivers. All bridges from Inniscarra to the city were closed. It was bad.

Houses and businesses in the city have been destroyed. Student accomodation was evacuated. UCC's new IT building has been severely damaged. Schools were closed. Underground carparks filled up with water, ruining cars. A five-star hotel was evacuated. West Cork under water too.

Having seen pictures, it is absolutely awful for anyone whose house has been damaged, and for the money lost by traders. There's still a little part of me that wants to go into town for sconce around. I'd love to find a little boat, and sail around the city centre. Flood waters appear to be clearing, but high tide is at half 7 or so tonight, and more water will probably be coming down from Inniscarra so we'll have to wait and see whether I can go for coffee in town yet or not.

Water supply has been turned off due to flooding of the water treatment plant on the Lee Road. So, there's a new meaning to the phrase "Water water everywhere, but ne'er a drop to drink'.

Anyone with a boat, please leave a comment. A canoe/kayak will suffice.

I have successfully managed to curb my Internet usage, well for today anyway. After coming home I put the head down and did my homework, even wrote up the Chemistry experiment 'to determine the relative molecular mass of a volatile liquid'. Woo!

After dinner I had a little look around Facebook and PRoC, and managed to stay away until about half an hour ago. Very productive day.

I also found a new Blogger template! Yay! The long search is finally over (for this week anyway).

Ireland played France in the second leg of a world cup qualifier just there. Ireland lost. I didn't watch it because I had to have a shower and then have my Internet time. Every single Facebook update in the past half hour or less have been about the match. I think I may have missed out on a monumental moment in Irish history.

Time to emigrate I guess, before I'm rejected by the Irish population.

I've already been called a loser on Facebook for not watching it like...

After reading this (which I found over at IrishStudentBlogs) I realised just how badly I need to do something similar.

Today, after coming home I made some tea and opened the laptop for a sconce around various forums, blogs and social networking sites. One distraction led to another, and it was half five before I was changing out of my uniform. More procrastination followed, and by the time I sat down to do my homework it was 7:30.

This is slightly ridiculous seeing as I had way too many experiments to write up for both Chemistry and Biology, among other things. So here I am, back on the evil Internet, but only so I can turn over a new leaf.

From tomorrow on, I won't be doing anything as drastic as was described in the link above, but (hopefully) I will adhere to the following rules:
1. No Internet until after dinner.
2. Half an hour after dinner consisting of : Facebook, PRoC, Blogger, Email.
3. Assuming homework has been completed, one hour from 9:00 to 10:00 for various online entertainment.
4. Any iTunes / iPod stuff must also be completed withing these time frames.

We'll see how I get on...

My grandmother was over for dinner today. She comes over every Sunday but this Sunday my mum collected her and my dad dropped her home. It's getting dark so early that she prefers not to drive now. When my dad announced that he was dropping her home I decided to go along for the spin. I love being in the car at night, when it's all dark and the streetlights are on. There's something beautiful about darkness. That, and the fact that I was a bit bored.

And as we drove over I began to realise that I actually cannot remember the last time I was over in her house. It's not that I don't see her, seeing as she comes over to our place twice a week, but in all honesty I had no idea when I had last been over there.

It scared me in a way. I thought I knew exactly what the place looked like, but at the same time I didn't try to picture it in my head. We arrived and we walked her up to the house, and popped inside for a few minutes. This is the house where I spent my time as a baby and as a toddler. When my parents went to work every day I would go over there and my grandparents would mind me, until my dad came to collect me on his way home.

I would talk to my grandparents, maybe go to mass with my nana, go out for a spin, go for lunch, or tea. I'd watch the Countdown or a snooker match with my granda, pick the lotto numbers for him, do some weeding in the garden, play with the toys in the toy box behind the couch, take out a colouring book, play with the neighbour's dog, and help decorate at Christmas. All these memories came flooding back when I stepped through the front door. What shocked me the most was the fact that the place seemed almost new to me, as though I hadn't been there before. I did remember it, but I had forgotten bits too.

That surprised me alright, but what scared me was seeing old age for what it really is. My grandmother, this old woman, has to spend ever night alone in that house. It honestly must be terrifying. I mean, I like my solitude, but having to be alone every night, that's different. And I'm a young 'un. I'm less likely to have a fall or a serious accident, or to be targeted my vandals.

I'm not saying my grandmother is in a depressed state, because she has family and friends that love her and who are always visiting or bringing her out. But as we walked up that wet path in the dark, and climbed those steep steps to the door, it made me realise some stuff.

And I just said I'd share it with the world.

Yesterday, I related to you my experiences at mass of eye-contact and longing. I'll be thinking about him for the week now.

This morning, as per every Sunday, we went down to Kinsale for coffee and a walk on the beach. It was just my mum and me though because my dad and brother were down in Clonakilty at a tennis tournament. Just in case you wanted a more detailed description of the scenario.

Before the summer, I had regularly seen this family come into the same café where we go and have coffee/breakfast. What caught my eye however, was not this irrelevant similarity, but the two teenage sons of the family, who were damn good looking. my mother, in her typical ways, would point them out to me and so on.

Today they came into the café again and once they sat down the mother said "So tell us about the party last night". That sentence is so bloody familiar to me, that I laughed. The two guys, who may be twins because they look very alike and seem to be the same age, were joined by a friend. One of the sons had his arms on the table and his head lying on top of them. They each ordered a glass of milk. It made me smile because they were having the Sunday morning I always have after a night out : feeling wrecked and hungover, and then trying to think of what I can and can't tell my parents about the night before.

Eye contact was made with the hot one. Mmmm... I wonder do their parents allow them drink, or are they actually eighteen? Whose party were they at? "Did they meet any nice girls?" Such a classic Mom sentence. Yet they had to sit their, unable to escape the interrogation. We're so alike it's ridiculous.

I wouldn't mind getting to know them either.

I've have tried so many templates, but I can never seem to find one that suits me just perfectly. It's hard when my blog isn't focused on anything in particular, but just whatever I feel like going on and on about on a given day.

For the past few weeks I had a mostly white page, with a blue banner at the top and some musical graphics of a gramophone and the like. I got a bit fed up of it though, so I chose to try out Hemingway. I'm liking the colours, the font, and the beautiful simplicity of it, but I'd kinda prefer if the posts were in one column instead of two because I think it all looks a bit confusing at the minute.

In other news, I finally found my camera charger today after months of my camera lying on the dressing table all alone. I had been hunting high an low for it, and mentioned it to my mother a little while ago, and of course her suggestion as to where it could be was correct. SO the battery is currently charging, and hopefully I can start taking pictures again, maybe even posting a few here if I feel so inclined. I'm in no way any good at photography whatsoever but I'd rather use my own images instead of robbing them from other locations.

Sin é.

I mention this place alot, so I may as well dedicate a post to it.

Simply put, it is the best coffee shop in Cork city. It has beautifully eccentric decor, friendly staff, amazing coffee and at reasonable prices.

I could spend hours, wait I do that already. No, I could spend days in there.

I bring it up now, as yesterday it won first prize in the café/restaurant category of the Cork Better Building Awards.

I happened to come across this website >> http://lifestyle.cometocork.ie/index.php/awards/better-building-awards/
and downloaded the Power Point presentation that was shown at the awards ceremony. And lo and behold, when I came to the slide for Cork Coffee Roasters we are there, sitting inside behind the guys at the window.

Not much of a surprise considering the amount of time we spend in there.

And fair fock's to them for winning that award. 'Tis well deserved.

An unusual combination I hear you think.

Last night, as I retired to bed I got a text from a number I didn't know just saying a friendly 'hello how are you'. After a few texts I realised it was a best friend's cousin. One night, my friends and I decided to text randomers and just say 'I love you.' I text this guy and he was really curious as to who I was. I had completely forgotten all about it and then last night we exchanged first names.

Today, I was walking over a bridge in town en route to Cork Coffee Roasters with two friends, one of whom is my 'I love you' guy's cousin. It was a cold enough day, but the sky was clear and there was a really good buzz around town. There was a flash mob dance thing as part of a protest against cuts in Arts funding and Cork looked like a cool place to be. The people looked good and everything seemed so nice.

So as we walked across this bridge and along the quays we commented on how this situation would unfold itself if we were living in a film. It would be something like this. We would keep texting for a while and then either happen upon each other and fall in love, subsequently finding out we had been texting each other all along. Or we would decide to meet up and then fall in love. The first option is by far the more commercial option but the second is a little (but not much) more realistic.

We'd get married and his cousin/my friend would be bridesmaid. And the cute/ironic/cheesy thing about the whole story would be the fact that the very first time we communicated it was to say 'I love you.' Altogether now : Awww.

When I came home from town my mum made my brother and I go to mass with her. This story is slightly different from the first, in that it's not as stylish or classy, but a nice idea nonetheless. When I go to mass my mind wanders and I think about all sorts of things. Today I found myself being distracted by a nice young man sitting in the next block of seats. I am fully aware the seats in a church are called pews, but these were not pews. The old little country church is being refurbished so mass is now held in the GAA hall. And we sit on plastic grey chairs. How glamorous.

As the priest droned on I took sideways glances at my newfound interest. He was about 17 and was tall and slim. He was wearing jeans, a grey t-shirt and a black jumper, and had spiky-ish black hair. He looked cool. At one stage we made eye-contact. Big whoop I know but it was the best I could do considering we were at mass. And then I caught him looking at me. Nothing too maajor, but a nice way to while away mass all the same.

Inevitably as I was walking out he was right next to me/in front of me, but unfortunately my mother was too. She's always in the way at the worst times. He had his phone in his hand. If this was a movie I'd have taken his phone out of his hand and put my number in his phonebook. But life's not a movie, especially not in a small-ish country-ish but still near the city parish. And there was the obstacle of my mother. But it was a nice thought anyway.

My mother was smirking away to herself, not realising she looked like a frumpy dope in her jeans-and-runners combo which I have rarely seen her leaving the house in before. She was, of course, smirking at the 'nice young boy'. As soon as I closed the car door after me she started. 'There was one nice lad in the whole church. Did you see him?' and she proceeded to give me a detailed description of what he was wearing. My brother threw in the fact that he was wearing Converse. How could I not like him?! Then Mumsie told me how she saw him taking a good glance of me as we were walking out of the GAA hall-come-church. Ah lovely! How convenient. Shall I marry him, mother? Then she tried to find him and point him out to me as we were driving out of the church. Does she think I am that blind?

It would be nice to get to know him though. I mean he obviously lives near me and I wouldn't mind at all at all having a friend from round these parts. Now I have to go to mass next week though. Feckin' dose, and knowing my luck he won't even be there. Christmas fair would be a good time to strike up a conversation, but if I had to stay at that jumble/cake sale that they consider to be a Christmas fair, I might just go mad.

All in the name of love though.

Don't know what to write about.

*sigh*

I had an Irish test today on 'An Bhean Óg', which went surprisingly well. Despite the fact that I hadn't learned either of the essays we were going to be getting, I managed to write two-and-three-quarter pages. School actually wasn't too bad today.

My dad bought a new car the other day. Well new to him, 5 years old to the world. It's pretty. One day, long in the future, after I've had the Polo, the Corsa, the Corolla and so on, I'd like to have a car like his, but in shiny black.

You know sometimes when you've got this feeling, but you can't place it. Like you feel like there's something you should be worrying about, or stressed about, or maybe even happy about, but you just can't seem to remember what it is. Or like you've messed something up, but you can't remember. I kind of have that feeling. In the negative way.

Maybe it's just that I feel I should be starting my homework, but maybe it's something more than that. Maybe I feel like I've disappointed someone in some way. Like I should have accepted their invitation and now I regret it. Sometimes I am so, so stupid.

I know I never appreciate people when I have them, and that I always want people when I can't have them; always lusting after what I can't have. What's so much worse is when you had someone before, but didn't want them, and let them go, but now you want them and you can't have them.

Sometimes I just want to talk to someone. Who am I kidding, not someone, but that one. Him. I loved the chats we used to have. I told him so much, and he listened, he really did. He gave me advice, and made me smile every minute of every day. I know it's not like that any more, but for that happiness he gave me, I am forever grateful.

Now, I worry about him. I always have. Not in a way that affects me every waking moment, but I know there's something up with him at times. It makes me sad, because, beneath it all, he's just a big softie who needs someone to love him. In ways, I wish so badly I could give him that, just give him a hug, or say something, or be someone, who makes his isolation go away.

It's weird how much his name means to me. When I see it, it's like it says so much. We talked about stuff I wouldn't be blabbing about every day and it's just...

Now that he's gone, I don't miss him. But I do cherish those memories I have, even if to others, they look like nothing.

But now, I need someone else. But until I find him, what do I do now?

I physically cannot bring myself to do any homework. At all. I'm sitting here with this feckin' laptop glued to my lap and wasting my evening away. I was in town until half 5 and when I got home I had absolutely no desire whatsoever to take out a book. Disaster. I was so much better back in the good ol' JC days.

Was heading into town after school today for a meeting at 4pm. Didn't have to get the bus in because Aisling's mum came and gave us a lift seeing as she thought it was going to be raining. Off to a good start!

Then had an hour or so to kill before Caroline came in so I went to BTs and changed out of my uniform; looked around Oasis, A|wear, H&M, Penneys, Topshop, Debenhams and so on, and then headed up to Cork Coffee Roasters to meet Caroline.

Being the absolute retard that I am, I left my phone at home today so I had no way of contacting anyone and it just about nearly killed me. I couldn't tell my parents when or where to meet me, or get in touch with Lorna to see was she coming up from Tralee for the meeting, or text Caroline to arrange somewhere to meet. Ugh. NEVER leaving the house without it again.

After having the good ol' cup of coffee, we walked through the lashing rain to Civic Trust House. I was involved with this youth theatre project as part of Cork Midsummer Festival this past year and the meeting today was regarding the future of the project. Seems verrry exciting altogether. If I get to do it and it goes ahead etc, then we'd be going to Scotland, Helsinki, London, Belgium, Holland, Dublin, Belfast, and last but not least, Cork. And everything's paid for.

Lorna offered to give me a lift home, so we walked in the rain to Paul Street, me falling en route and ripping my tights, and then had a wander around a few floors of the carpark before we found the car. Traffic was deadly, but we had a nice chat. Need to sort some form of a fake ID actually...

But I've done nothing since them, except eating food. Think I might go to bed now and read. I should really have had a shower coz my hair is severely curly after the rain but I kinda ran out of time. Tomorrow; tomorrow shall be productive.

Hopefully.

Every Monday, Tuesday and Friday I have Irish in a classroom with an amazing view. When I sit down in the back corner of the room I can see all the way up as far as the city centre.

From day to day the view varies. Some days it's raining and misty and dull and cloudy. Others it's sunny and bright and clear and fresh. It doesn't matter whether it dry or wet, there's still something absolutely magical about that view. It's like you're here, inside this classroom, with a 28 other people wearing the same clothes and listening to a woman try to teach you something. Only a few metres away, there's a completely different world going on. There's women (and men) doing jobs at home, or watching tv, or on the phone. There's people commuting to and from work, meetings, catching up with friends. There's students struggling to drag their hungover heads out of bed.

And all this, separated by a mere sheet of double-glazed glass. You are so near, but yet so cut off, and so separated from this world you desperately long to be a part of. I can see various UCC buildings. It makes me think of how the only reason I am sitting in classrooms for 7 hours a day is so that, in two years time, I can be there. I can be sitting in lecture theatres learning about stuff that interests me; that is my passion.

And for a split second, I am motivated by that thought. But then I come back to reality; I focus on the teacher, and I wish, I wish so hard, that I could be a kilometre downstream walking around the Quad, or strolling down College Road, or having a coffee in town. I want to be living a life out there with the rest of the world.

Being me, and enjoying the little things, one day at a time.

I got up early, had a shower, a slice of toast and went to town with my mum. I went for coffee with her and then wandered around. Ran into her later in H&M and she bought me an amazing grey jacket. This made me happy.

None of my friends were coming in I thought, but then I text Caroline and she was around until her French grinds at 2. So we went for coffee in Gusto. By 'we went for coffee' I mean she had a coffee and I sat there watching her learn her French vocab. I used to really love Gusto, but in recent weeks Cork Coffee Roasters has taken over. Nowhere can compare.

Caroline went off to French grinds so I went looking at grey jackets in various shops to make sure there wasn't something better (and cheaper) out there. There wasn't. Then Liam came in, and as I was going to meet him, Hannah came in, so we met him in Tesco and went for lunch in Tribes. I hadn't been there in so long. Last time was the for the most recent Coolaboola meeting. It's Coolaboola's official meeting place y'see. I like Tribes. Despite the fact that it's ridiculously expensive for what you get, it's all cosy and warm and homely and comfortable, and you can just hide away from the world and never come out.


When we finished there Hannah and I went shopping with Liam. To Dunnes. Dunno if you call that shopping but whatever. Caroline came to meet us, and form there we headed to Penneys but it was way too busy so we left and went to Cork Coffee Roasters. This is becoming an increasingly common pattern in my life. We sat at that little counter for about 2 hours, probably more actually, only getting up to order coffee / use the facilities, although Hannah and Caroline did leave at one point to go to H&M and Liam went across the road for a few "messages" before we ordered.

Just as we were sitting down with our coffees we noticed a Garda walking up the street towards Centra. I have a bit of a thing for men in uniform so, naturally enough, I kept an eye on him. He went up to this group of teenage knackers who were congregated outside Centra. He took one of them aside, who had a can in his hand. We watched the boy's heart break as he was made pour the can out on the street, and was then made hand over the other three cans in his pockets. And along comes this old hobo, and the Garda gives the hobo the three cans who proceeds to pocket them, and walk back the way he came, slowly but surely. Everyone in the coffee shop was watching this event and laughing; the guy who was working there even came down to the window for a gawk.

But it was just so nice in there. It's such an amazing place. You go in there and it's a different world. The best coffee ever, the friendliest staff, the cutest decor. The place is full of superlatives I tell you. We talked about everything and anything, whiling away the time as the rest of the world moved on outside, sometimes covered in a blanket of rain.


Eventually we managed to tear ourselves away from the place. A bit of a culture shock was in store for us because Caroline wanted a fecking footlong sub, so Liam and I waited downstairs for them, commenting on the dismal sight of the recently shut-down Romeos. That place was only open for about a week (slight exaggeration). We took a stroll to Tesco, passing the gangs hanging around outside, and bought some cheap-ass Coke and a big bag of McCoys salt & vinegar crisps. Savings galore we got.

Together we headed down Careys Lane to the bus stop, loaded with bottles and Coke and crisps and clothes and bags. That's a really cute street / lane actually. It's all narrow and pretty and historical and musical. What more could you want from a lane? We got onto a lovely double decker number 8, sitting in the 'upper saloon', always in the back of our minds that we may topple over at any second. Thankfully, to date, this has not happened.

We got off the bus at Bishopscourt Green and walked back, passed the cop shop Garda station and up the hill to Niamh's gaff. The rents are away in NY, so like any normal teenager, she decided to have a gathering, which obviously turned into more of a party than a gathering. You know when you put "Bring your own drink!" in the text it's never going to be just a gathering.


So it all started off ok. There was a nice selection of crisps and chocolate and sweets, along with a few bottles of coke, just crying out to be mixed with vodka. Hannah, Liam and I were the only ones who had managed to get some "messages" so the others were waiting for those with the fake IDs to come along. They came along, and the rest, as they say, is history.

That is until some random guys who weren't invited turned up and forced their way in through the back. Things got a bit noisy and messy, tensions were raised and a punch or two were thrown. The house was a wreck, random guys started fighting, but out came our tae-kwon-do heroes to save the day as people were ordered to leave.

But not before the neighbours came in. As I stood in the kitchen I suddenly noticed two people about 25 years older than everyone else in the house standing and staring at the utter mess of the place. Our black belt-ers forced more people out, and then the word spread that the Gardaí had been called. Fuck. Caoilfhionn and I sourced some refuse sacks and began clearing up every single bit of evidence. Two stuffed bags later the place looked alright, and we went making sure everyone who shouldn't be there were gone. I went and checked on Niamh who was being looked after in the utility room / bathroom. More people came in saying "Oh it wasn't my fault. I was only helping. Is everything ok?" "Yeah, everything's great. Thanks for stopping a civil war from breaking out. You're great. Can you leave now?". We rescued the dog from some guys who came round the back, kicked the last few people out, and locked all the doors.

I still don't know whether or not the Gardaí came, but if they did, they didn't come inside. We profusely thanked the neighbours for coming in and assured them we'd be fine. Once the majority of people had left the rest of the portay-goers went into the living room and watched some ridiculously horrendous X-Factor Uncut type show. Or maybe it was Who Wants To Be A Millionaire actually. Yeah, I remember a question about Blakjack and Blackball, or something to that effect. Instead I decided to go get the hoover out and clean the gaff. I do remember Liam being out with a spray-bottle of Dettol at one stage too to be fair.


After the place was all clean we went into the living room and sat down, analysing the night that had been. All us 'girls' were there, and randomly, in the middle of us all, who else but Liam. Sitting there on the couch with a blanket over his legs and the dog on his lap. That boy...I swear to God. But in the good way :). I made some tea. Then Ashling put on pizza and chips. And we crowded around the kitchen table tucking into the Tesco Value tomato and cheese pizzas and oven chips.

This is the stuff dreams are made of.

A few nights ago I had a dream about this guy I knew. My ex-tennis coach to be exact. He was only doing it for the few bobs really, but out of every single tennis coach I have had, he is by far my favourite. He was a cool guy. And I dreamed about him. I dreamed about hugging him in front of all my peers. I don't know what that means. I'm not big into the whole interpreting dreams thing, but to me, it's like it's telling me that I miss him, and that I want to be close to him again.

He moved away, to foreign lands, so i no longer see him. But now I know other people; others who have followed in his footsteps in recent times. And I'm worried I'll lose them too. What sucks so much is that I'm not best friends with them, because I can't be. Who am I to them? Compared to everyone else they've left behind, who am I to be the one Facebooking them or on MSN to them? They leave, and you can't do anything else. Try and talk to them as much as possible and you look a bit stalkerish and desperate, because they're not your best friend.

And like that, they're gone. People you may have only just been getting to know. For me, it's only just starting. People you wanted to get to know so badly just disappear off into the sunset. College draws people like magnets. This time next year I'll be thinking about what to put down on my CAO form, and this time two years, alot of my friends will have gone their separate ways. It's a scary thought.

It feels like only yesterday that friends were made and lost in seconds; that school meant a day of playtime; and all my problems and drama didn't exist.

Who should you trust? Do you give everyone the benefit of the doubt and hope for the best that they don't mess you around? Or is it better to be suspicious of everyone around you, and miss out on some wonderful people and experiences, but never really get fucked around?



It's something to think about. Like when a person acts as if they like you, but deep down you have some feeling that they're not being completely honest with you; that they're only trying to mess with your mind. But you only think this because that person is so damn nice and cool that you don't think you deserve them, that you believe you're not good enough for them.

Another little part of your brain, no, heart, is explicitly happy at the fact that they seem to like you, or at least that's what they claim. You want to trust them more than anything in the world. You want to believe that you are actually friends, and it makes you happy. Happy because they're happy, because you're happy.

Unless you want to spend your life miserable and alone, blocking everyone out, and not willing to let anyone in, then you're just going to have to take a leap of faith and go with your instinct. If your gut feeling is that this person is really messing you around then trust yourself. But heartbreak and tears are all part of life. You wouldn't know who your real friends were without them.

I have tried. I really have. All the quotes are written out, divided in to sections depending on how you would use them, along with a point about each one. I have read over them time and time again, blocked them with a page, tried to say them spontaneously, and listen Ms. Whelton, I CANNOT REMEMBER THEM. Ok?

I have also learned three chapters of Business, and French vocab, and frankly, I don't care about those quotes. I'll know a few important ones by the time the Leaving comes around, and I'll get by with those. Fridays have just morphed into Test Days. Sigh.

This week has gone pretty quickly actually. Christ I never thought I'd survive when I was getting up on Monday morning, but here we are, almost at the other end. Weekend doesn't look too bad. Niamh just text we there and invited me to her gaff gathering on Saturday night. I really do love parents who go off on holidays / breaks and leave their kids at home so they won't miss any of the all-important fifth year.

We had this interview thing in school today for the School Bank Team. I applied for Bank Manager but there's not a hope in hell that I'll get it. Not that I care, because to be quite honest, the bank is always an Epic Fail (with capital letters, yes) and I have enough as editor of the magazine. Interview wasn't bad, but I didn't really get to show off all my achievements and whatnot as much as I'd have liked. I mean, I could have talked for aaaages about Kinsale Arts Week, but when I mentioned all that gig stuff she told me I was an 'arty type' and into 'theatre'. That's obviously not bank manager material, but it made me think about what I really am supposed to do with my life; like what am I born to do? I didn't have any major revelations, just more questions. All I have these days is questions...

I want to go to bed know, and curl up with 'My Sister's Keeper' and read until my eyes will no longer stay open.

Oíche mhaith.

(Photo taken from http://golez.net - Check it!)

Some Wednesdays are absolutely horrific. Despite the fact that we get a half day, it's not a whole lot of good to me seeing as I can't get a lift home for an hour and a half after I finish. Which just isn't good.

Today though, today was nice. Non-uniform day at school for a start, although it proved to be quite annoying due to my too-big jeans. My friend, Aisling (although I don't call her this. I call her Botch. She calls me Botch.), was going to town so I said I'd join her. After a little spot of embarrassing running between bus stops either side of my school I managed to get on the bus, albeit slightly out of breath. Not to worry. Although I was worrying about the fact that the bus was packed and every window was closed. Anyway..

The two of us went to tkmaxx first to go to the bathroom for make-up-putting-on purposes and whatnot. The bathrooms are pretty nice and big enough with shiny black tiles and circular mirrors. But we went down the steps, and to our horror, discovered that you now have to pay 20c to use the bathrooms!!! We just stood there, stunned, going ohmygod ohmygod when a man came over and put the 20c in for us. Weird, in the creepy way. Not good.

We had a little stroll around and Botch bought some nice blue tights, we passed the cute guy from O2, she then got some credit, we passed Rich singing Heyday, and finally got to Cork Coffee Roasters. Free coffee for me with my loyalty card (YaY!) and a scone. Nice chat. Bus home (and not on my own). Nice dinner. My Nana brought cakes over. Not a bad day.

And now that Wednesday is over we're on the home straight for the weekend. Just two more days left. I have an interview for School Bank Manager tomorrow though. It's only going to take about 5 minutes but ugh. I kinda have enough on my plate so I'm contemplating coming across seriously incompetent tomorrow. Maybe, maybe not.

I'll finish up now before you fall asleep and sue me for damage to your keyboard from your head falling on it.

Slán.

I am sitting at home on the couch. Pure bliss. Well, relatively. Another Monday has come and gone. Funny how during holidays, Mondays are the best. Like last Monday I felt like the rest of my life lay ahead. I mean, seriously, a whole week. School would never come around, right?!

Mondays tend to go pretty fast anyway because I've a double business, and classes are 5 minutes shorter than the other days. Got two tests back today. The bad news first: 86% in Maths. Now for the good news: 100% in Chemistry. Woo! Science rocks...

Right now I want to find some of that chocolate that my brother got trick-or-treating at the weekend, but my mother has hidden. Lovely, just lovely. I can have an orange, or a cracker with my cup of coffee instead. How appetising.

I like how it's dark so much earlier now, but I hate how it's brighter in the mornings. Mornings should be dark and sleepy, not bright and happy. This morning, I couldn't remember whether my dad had woken me or not, but my door was open, so I figured I had been roused. I went to switch on my lamp and my aunt who's staying with us appeared in the doorway with a cheery "Good morning!" I am very sorry, but that is just NOT something a person who wishes to continue their life on this planet says. I could have shot her. It is just plain wrong. She shouldn't even be up and dressed at that hour, not to mention bidding us all a good morning. Grr...mornings = dark, depressing, quiet, moody, tired. Got that?

I haven't had a day off school in ages, where everyone else is out, and a day that I don't need to have a shower coz my hair looks good anyway, and I can just cuddle up under my duvet on the couch and watch crappy daytime tv. Even at that, it's more the thought of it than anything else that's appealing. If I do have a day off, I prefer to get up and make the most of it. Generally, I tend to go to town at the crack of dawn, purely because I need a lift to the suburbs with the 'rents, and I wait around for a few hours until my friends come in. Not as bad as it sounds, I swear.

I still have my Biology homework left to do, and then maybe a weensy bit of study, and then a shower, and if I've time, I might actually open that Theory Test handbook. I crave freedom.

So our mini-summer has been and gone. When we left school on that joyous Friday after a horrific Maths test, it was but merely autumn. We return to its doors having walked through winter winds. Only 6 weeks now 'til Christmas exams and then the whole holidays thing will start again.

Mid-term really did surpass many expectations. I went out a good bit, and didn't spend EVERY waking second with the exact same people. We spent sleeping seconds together too! Nah, it really was a good week, and Christ did I need the break. I had my plans to do my homework the first weekend and then a little bit of study each day, but we only make plans so we can go against them and then feel like we've actually done something worthwhile.

I've my written homework that's due tomorrow done, but haven't even begun learning those stoopid quotes from Hamlet. May as well learn the whole play the amount we're getting. I'm not going to freak out about school anymore; I'll survive.

I played alot of guitar over the past week, which was nice. It's been a while since I've learned new songs and it's a damn good feeling. Bought a new capo too which is easier to change, and is ten times better seeing as it raises the pitch evenly instead of having everything all over the place. I'm still using the first pick that I got with the guitar. It's a nice soft, pale grey Dunlop one with little bits of dents in it from being used so much. I have others, but they're alot harder, more for the ol' electric when I'm jamming on a Sunday with the band. =P

I wish I didn't have to go back to that place tomorrow. It has been SO good to just be able to forget about it for a week and not have to wear that uniform, or sit in those horrible hospital-coloured classrooms and count down the hours 'til I can leave. And now we return to results from those tests last Friday and "back into the swing of things" again.

I cannot wait for Saturday when I will go for coffee in Cork Coffee Roasters and get a free coffee with my full loyalty card. Or perhaps Friday afternoon.

It's going to be a long week.

It's not a holiday I exactly count the days down to each year, but I really did enjoy yesterday. I spent Friday night googling various forms of the phrase "easy halloween costume ideas" and did come up with a good few possibilities, but in the end I went with a cowgirl. How riveting. It was easy though. I just wore a denim skirt, tank top, check shirt, cowboy boots and a cowboy hat. Done.

Town was kinda fun yesterday because everyone was in a, like, Halloween spirit if that makes sense. Queues outside mmmad costume shop ffs. Seriously, kids these days have no creativity. Got FREE lunch in town yesterday too with my full Wholy Grain loyalty card, so I got a cajun chicken sandwich with mixed peppers, red onion, grated cheddar cheese and jalapeno relish on white. Savage. My next coffee in Cork Coffee Roasters shalll also be free. I love my loyalty cards.

So we went to Aoife's Halloween party anyway. Good laugh in fairness. A load of people came in the end and it was just a fun night in general. No major shit went down, which is nice for a change, and it was a helluva lot better than Internet / X Factor (which I don't even watch but I'm throwing in here so it has some relevance to what everyone's talking about these days) / wandering around in the dark.

School tomorrow. Death. Midterm went waaaay too fast, and I haven't even started my homework yet, which I should reeeeally get around to one of these hours now. So much for my study plans for midterm anyway...

Bought this second-hand in Plugd yesterday.


My Morning Jacket - Z

Had such a nice morning in there. I went into town with my mother, aunt and brother, but fecked off and went and hid in Plugd for over an hour. Hadn't been in there for a chat in ages so it was really nice, and then I found a €20 note in my pocket, so I said I'd buy a CD. I <3 Plugd.

I'm sitting in the leather armchair in the bay window, wearing my pyjamas, dressing gown, and a hideous pair of luminous socks. When I look out the window, things look a bit blurry because of the little streams of rain running down the window. The effect is a bit like when you put on someone else's glasses. According to my usually inaccurate estimations the rain is driving down at a 45 (Oh My God I just realised there's no little circle thing that represents degrees on the keyboard!!) degree angle. (I suppose one could represent it like so : 45^o.) Everything is really, really wet, but I'm one of the very few people who don't mind the Irish weather. I have been known on occasions to go as far as actually liking it.

We have too many people staying in our house at the moment. Obviously there's the four people that normally reside here, but now we also have three of my mother's sisters. Two have been down from Kerry since Tuesday, and now we have another down from St. Luke's Cross (about 20 minutes away) because her 'partner' has focked off to India on some hike. Now, considering the fact that we rarely have guests, we only have one guest bedroom. Wait, what am I saying only for? It's one bedroom more than my parents, the people who paid for the gaff, need. So anyway, my aunt is now sleeping in the lounge on the most comfortable couch in the gaff (debatable) where I spend quality time with my laptop. So now I've had to move to the leather armchair next to it. How shall I ever live.

Today, anyway, I have the choice of going to town and sitting in Cork Coffee Roasters with my friends and talking for hours on end about things that don't really matter, and then searching high and low for a Halloween costume for a party tomorrow night. OR. I can go for lunch in the Sheraton which will be paid for for me. But it would be with my aunts, so obviously the conversation would matter even less. Hmm.

I'm also beginning to worry slightly about the fact that I have yet to start my mid-term homework. I had great plans for revision and everything else, but to be quite honest, I needed the break. I might start it today if I get a chance, and if not, Sunday evening is as good a time as any to do it.

Oh Jesus, the child is putting up a few Halloween decorations. Oh the joys of living on a household akin to a zoo.

Good day my loyal readers! Enjoy this day as it shall be like no other.

In my quest to start playing the guitar properly again, I stumbled across this on Youtube. One of those scenes that makes you proud to be Irish and just gives this amazing warm feeling or something. Enjoy. x

I haven't mentioned much about music as of yet. But I was just listening to Sweet Oblivion on 2XM there and a song I hadn't listened to in a long time came on afterwards. I like this song.

This description I found on tumblr couldn't be more accurate.

i think you should come to my house and watch movies with me in bed while drinking hot chocolate, i’ll make you some toast while you stand awkwardly in my kitchen. i want you to never take your eyes off of me. i want you to play with my hair while i fall asleep on your lap. i want you to laugh at my stupid jokes and not care when i act like a tit. i want you to say i look nice in the morning, even if i look like a tramp. i want to borrow your jacket when i get cold. i want you to want me.
i want forehead kisses. i want my arms around your neck. i want you to surprise me. i want you to inspire me. i want you to be amazed by me. i’l buy you things because it makes me happy. we’ll take silly pictures and go on walks. you’l be my drunken call and i’ll be yours. we’ll argue and makeup. you’ll enjoy my awful singing and art i do. we’ll just lie there, knowing we're feeling the same thing.

So we're already five days into midterm. Nearly over now like. Haven't opened a single book so far, apart from attempting the maths papers in bed last Friday night. That was thrown by the wayside (i.e. under the bed) pretty quickly though. My room is an utter bombsite too. I've been out so much and stayed over at a friend's the other night so everything is kinda just fecked on the chair/desk/floor when I come in, and the prospect of having to tidy the place before I can start my homework is all too much, so I abandon the homework. I think it's a good plan of action.

The aunts are up from Kerry (pronounced 'Kyerray') anyway so we headed down to Kinsale today, five of us packed into the tiny Corsa because my mother is incapable of driving my dad's automatic. 'Twas a feckin' horrendous journey down, having to sit next to that irritating child that I am unfortunately related to. But we got there, and he fecked off with one of the aunts while the rest of us went for coffee. I had a damn good cappucino. As I sat there sipping my frothy coffee I gazed at a poster for a Cara O'Sullivan concert being put on my Kinsale Arts Week. And oh did the memories come flooding back. My summer spent between Short Quay and Guardwell running 9 days of gigs. Making arty musician types get on and off stage on time. Heading up to the Folk House and through the back to rob ice and bottle-openers from Bacchus nightclub. Stopping for a chat in the box office. Talking Boo for walks around the town. Freaking out when people didn't arrive. Going buying refuse sacks to pick up all the alcohol-related rubbish. Talking to nice people, and not-so-nice people. Falling in love on a few occasions. Talking to my knacker-culchie friends and making them fill out surveys for me. Pushing through the crowds in Jim Edwards to use the bathroom, or get a cork-screw. Ringing Ed in a panic multiple times. Going from the square, to the office, to the box office. Sitting on the landing outside the office as the Bangladeshi people changed their clothes and the children ran around the building. Keeping dogs away from the area where the dance group was performing, and trying, but to no avail, to make them go away. Getting lunch from the food stalls. Sheltering from the rain to avoid frizzy hair. Feeling oh-so-important in my KAW Crew t-shirt. The fluorescent-freaking-vest at Paul Brady in Charles Fort. Cutting every single chair apart and fighting over who'd stacked theirs in the neatest bundle. Stopping people from leaving via the shortcut. Making the man in the Internet café leave his Internet on all night so we could broadcast the DJ sets. Switching a record for DJ Juice when he had to pee. Trying to avoid a certain person. Curry chips from Dino's. O'Conaill's hot chocolate from Jo's. Flyering in the pubs with the 18-year-old South African who had just gotten here by sailing across the Atlantic on a randomer's boat. Pissing myself at the sight of what I thought was Caroline dressed up in a Maisy Mouse costume talking to kids (it turned out to be the hot French exchange boy). And of course, discussing in awe the amount of out-of-date drink in the Folkhouse. Serious good times. How I miss Kinsale Arts Week and stage-managing Sounds on the Square. The title of this post is no longer very appropriate, but I'm not going to change it, because it just underlines how the last paragraph of memories really came from the heart. CHEESE, I know.

My mother ended up getting a parking ticket for parking in a loading bay then. I was too busy studying the gig posters in the window of Londis to even notice. Whatever.

So back to what I was talking about. Mid term. No study done. Oh yeah, Chemistry study party in Hannah's gaff tomorrow. Aisling, Hannah, Liam et moi. How bad. And we will, of course, get so much Chemistry done...

It's now "Nosebag time" according to my dad. Dinner to you and me.

Later folks, and thanks for reading this. :)

What a weekend.

What I hate about this though is that I really can't expand on that statement too much for my own safety and livelihood. So maybe that means I shouldn't be a 'blogger'. This is too public now though. It's up on irishstudentblogs.com with my name so it's not such a good idea to be blabbing on about stuff.

'Twas the jazz weekend down here anyway. I did get a good bit of live music, but not all jazz. Went to see the Coronas in Cyprus Avenue on Saturday. Good enough gig once we managed to get in after the doors opened an hour later than stated. (Not cool Cyprus - although I do know there's always issues with opening on time.) I didn't do the whole getting stuck into the middle of the crowd and jumping around thing this time round. Kinda weird, but I was just back in the bar part with another friend for a good bit. It was everyone else that missed out...that barman was HOT. After the gig we went and sat in the back while trying to change the date on Heather's swipe card using tipp-ex and a marker. Complete and utter fail, not that we actually needed it in the end. We were probably the only people in the place not pushing their way up to the table where the Coronas were and screaming for autographs and hugs and pictures. It was amusing to watch. The lead singer dude was staring at us for a while, probably in awe of the fact that we were managing to restrain ourselves, something he's probably not used to. I had a nice chat with the hot one, Dave, though. he's nice.

Aisling had a semi-free gaff that night so she said we could all stay at hers after the gig. By semi-free gaff, I mean that her parents were gone but she was supposed to be minding her sister. She left town earlier to go pick her sister up, and after a quick trip to Centra the rest of us got the 14 back to Togher bai and climbed the hill to her gaff, passing some drug dealers en route. All in a day. It was a calm enough night, and I scrubbed the place at about 1am with orange-scented washing-up liquid, domestic goddess that I am.

Sunday involved two drooping eyelids, so I went to bed at like half 3, got up for dinner, and then went back to bed again. Sign of a good night right?!

Yesterday was probably the best day of the bank holiday weekend. It began with a nice trip to town during the day, and some damn good coffee in Cork Coffee Roasters. A nice chat there for over an hour, from where we headed on the Jazz Fest Club in the Metropole. Brought back memories of last year, but I havta say this year was a tad better. After I went home for dinner, it was back out again to Liam's FG for a little gathering, which involved his sister's assistance, a pack of cards and copious amounts of tea at half 10. Fun times. Sadly though, the tea (Which I made. Told you I was a domestic goddess.) and water did not have enough effect on Aisling and her mommy was not too happy with her. All will be revealed when we go for coffee later.

Those aunts of mine are actually coming down today, in like an hour, so I need to go have a shower and perhaps get a start on my homework. Then town for an analysis of yesterday.

So long folks! And well done if you managed to get this far!

Nach breá leat Éireann agus an Ghaeilge? Níl fhios agam cén fáth, ach is aoibheann liom an teanga, rud nach bhfuil comónta idir déagóirí. Ní Ghaeilgeoir mé in aon chor; d'fhoghlaim mé mo chuid Gaeilge ar scoil, ar nós gach duine. Nuair a bhí mé an-óg imreodh mo mháthair cluiche beag liom sa charr. D'fhiafriagh sí dom "Cad deir an madra?" agus freagir mé "woof woof". Ach stop sí ag caint Gaeilge liom nuair a chuala sí go raibh a cara ag caint Gaeilge lena páiste, agus nuair a chuaigh sé ar scoil bhí sé, bhuel, mall. Cheap sí go raibh an Ghaeilge an cúis leis sin, ach fuiar siad amach cúpla bliain ina dhiadh sin go raibh sé uathach.

Déanaim iarracht a bheith ag caint as Gaeilge le mo chairde. Go ginearálta ní fuath leo an Ghaeilge, ach níl siad ar nós mé féin agus mo ghrá don theanga. Ba mhaith liom céim sa Ghaeilge lá éigin, agus dá bhrí sin, táím ag ceapadh gur ndéanfaidh mé Dlí agus Gaeilge san ollscoil ach nílim cinnte. In aon chor. Blian amháin chun an cinneadh sin a dhéanamh. Eeek.

I think I'd go with the latter.

Midterm has finally come upon us, but not before the most stressful day of tests. Irish and Chemistry were fine, as expected, but Maths was feckin' horrible, also as expected. I'm really not feeling this whole honours maths thing. I mean, I'm able for it, but I'm not at an A1 standard, do is there really much point? I'll keep with it, but I'm thinking an extra subject may be needed. Or maths grinds.

Going to see the Coronas in Cyprus Avenue tomorrow, and then back to a friend's house for the night. Nice way to start the mid-term. I'm kinda getting a bit freaked out by the whole swine flu thing at the moment though. I mean 4 of the 9 deaths in the Republic have occurred in the past week. And classes are beginning to be that little bit quieter, and there's that extra one or two people going home sick every week. According to these 'health authorities' it's nowhere near it's peak transmission yet either. Which wouldn't be so bad if the vaccine was hunky-dory but from what I've been hearing it seems a bit dodge. Not that I'm trying to scare you in any way, but I've read about two semi-famous journalist/medical(?) people who have claimed it's actually an act of bioterrorism by the powerful world leaders to control the population. This thought is just a bit eerie. Meanwhile, some more reliable news sources have been reporting that it hasn't been tested properly, that it's toxic, and numerous other side-effects, along with the fact that a load up to a half of front-line health workers are refusing to be vaccinated.

Just something to ponder as you lie awake in bed tonight...

Too much feckin' work to do tonight that I couldn't spare a minute to write here. And I want to go read my book now, so you'll just have to wait 'til tomorrow for a riveting update on my life.

Oíche mhaith!

I just want to live my life. Is that too much to ask? I want to be able to spread my books out on the kitchen table whenever I feel like it, and turn the radio up loud. I want to be able to have coffee whenever I want, and being able to make it in peace, without my mother clattering around the kitchen. I want to be able to go on the laptop whenever I fell the need to. I want to be able to sit and watch the television in a charming (i.e. not necessarily professionally designed) living room without my brother running around the room playing football or swinging his arms in a tennis-like fashion. I want to be able to walk out the door, lock it with my keys, and walk to the shop, or to town, or to a bus stop, and go where I want to when I want to. I want to be able to go to bed when I feel like it and not have to be creeping around quietly when the old/young fogies are sleeping. I want to have friend(s) to talk to about stuff that I care about, and things that are of interest to other my age. I want to be able to get up in the morning and do things in the order I want and just have a coffee for breakfast if that's what I want. Or toast. Or a sandwich. Or biscuits. Or cereal. I want to be able to have as little lights as possible on, and listen to 2FM or RedFM or TodayFM. I want to be able to invite friends over whenever I feel lonely, or whenever I want a bit of a laugh. I want to not have to plan evenings in so far in advance so that everyone fits into my plans. I want to be able to have parties when I'm in the moood, and I want to be able to go out and not have to tell anyone where I'm going. I want to be able to walk down the street and not have to check my watch and rush here or there to be home on time. I want to have to do my own shopping and cooking and washing and cleaning. I want to be independent and free, but never alone.

The average Facebook update these days contains some reference to the mid-term. I have therefore named this post in honour of everyone's new favourite topic of conversation. So yes, three mornings left to get up at the grey dawn, by which I mean half 7, and trudge through those gates and up those stairs for another day of fun and frolics. And three days really isn't alot, especially considering the fact that two of those days or half days, eh?! No major plans yet for mid-term, apart from catching up on some much-needed sleep and drinking some much-needed coffee in Cork Coffee Roasters. I need to find something to do for Halloween come to think of it...party anyone?

In the reporting-of-daily-events side of things, I was elected Editor of the school magazine for the second year running today. Yay! I like the stress of organising such things, and whiling away the days in school putting together a magazine on InDesign is really very appealing. And (assuming we get to the finals) a day in Dublin ain't half bad either! I'm pretty good at bossing people around too...

School is kind of sickening at the moment, and not just in the literal swine flu sense. I'm always like a different person in school in some ways, and not just me, but other people too. Everyone just seems to be the same (apart from some huge differences between cliques or stereotypes or whatever). There's no individuality about the place, and to be quite honest, being fecked into a building and forced to spend your days with people who would have no intention of going near otherwise isn't the best situation. I tend to get sick of people in school, but then if I see them that weekend outside school it's like it's different. Perhaps it's just the difference in my attitude towards life in general when I'm in school and when I'm not. Maybe I actually love/hate everyone, but I only think differently depending on what environment I'm in. Like I'm always in a good mood when I'm in town. Actually now that I say it, I think there might be something there. For me anyway, I think that when I'm in a good mood I think people are nicer, and I like them more. I don't notice their annoying traits because I'm happy. But if I'm in a crappy mood, everyone annoys me. Hmm. Maybe this is, and always has been, blatantly obvious to everyone else but I just realised it properly now.

How bad.

So I did my written homework yesterday, and the decided to partake in my favourite activity, procrastination. Disguised as an effort to be more organised and to assist learning, I set about typing up my Business notes for my impending mid-term test the next day. By about six o'clock I had everything nicely laid out and typed up, and I connected the printer. *Dun dun DUN!* Low and behold, the fecker of a printer was not responding. I tried everything, but he still just coughed and spluttered. So I went off installing alternate drivers for the old printer. Still nothing. I slammed some doors and went back to the tried and trusted pen and paper. Come back, all is forgiven.

The rest of the evening was quite productive though, as I managed to get all of Unit 1 learned. But no evening would be complete without some more procrastination, so I left my room with the lights on and the window open, thinking I'd just give my Facebook a quick check. However, after opening the laptop one thing led to another and after half an hour (or more) I found myself back in a daddy-long-legs infested room. Oh the horror. I grabbed last week's copy of the Irish Times (open on the share prices page) and the murder began. Eugh. I think the moral of yesterday is that procrastination is bad.


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In other, non-procrastination related news, the weather continues to be shit, disrupting my new plan to go for a walk with one of the dogs every day before dinner. Also, my mother told me today that two of her sisters are coming to stay on Thursday. Up from Trolly-land (Tralee) for a city break, one could say. Meh, how bad. Bit of diversion for me. And diversion is a cousin of procrastination, so I'm gonna love it!

Now to get back to the lovely Hamlet...

Ok, it's almost 2 o'clock. I've been to Kinsale with the rents and the dog for breakfast and a walk on the beach, along with the inevitable quizzing about last night. ("Were there any nice boys there?") Now I'm home and I have all my freaking homework to do aswell as learning all of Business Unit 1 for a test tomorrow that's worth 10% of our Christmas test. So it kinda does matter. FFS. I should get a start on Maths Chapter 4 too because we have a test on that during the week aswell. I really cannot wait for mid-term.

I don't want to bore you with the rest of the minute details about my homework, but if you have an urge to read ahead, feel free..(don't say I didn't warn you though).

Maths: some questions, and start studying chapter 4
Irish: ?
English: Learn a shitload of Hamlet quotes, and write out the new ones
French: some comprehension
Chemistry: Q3 on the Trends in the Periodic Table chapter, and learn that for a test this week
Biology: Exam papers on what we did last week, and write up food tests
Business: Lear all of Unit 1. Oh the joys.

Do-able? I'll let ye know later...

So I stand there on the front door step with Hannah beside me. I ring the doorbell once, and then try to look through the letterbox. No sign of anyone. My dad said he'd be home at 11 and would stay up to let me in, but here I was at twenty to 1 and no-one coming to open the door. I cursed myself for not taking my key. Eventually my mother came to the door in her dressing gown. I was home before my dad. That really is a worrying sign.

The party...well it was good, but to be honest it was hard to enjoy it properly when we were stone cold sober. It was funny though, and I had a nice time dressing up and stuff.

I'm kinda hungry now. I might go have some cold toast.

Surprisingly enough I have actually become quite excited about tonight! I mean, it's a hell of alot better than staying at home come to think of it. And now that we have the present, and I've my clothes sorted and nails done etc it doesn't seem so bad.

Hannah's coming over soon for the 'getting ready' ritual. Haha. But it should be fun. My mother told me she was talking to the birthday boy in town today. She then went on to tell me how lovely he is. I hope she doesn't think I fancy him or anything, coz it's really not like that.

Town was so busy today despite the murky misty rain. After searching high and low for a present we went to Cork Coffee Roasters for a cuppa. Cuppa coffee for myself and cuppa tea for yer wan. It was so nice and cute and cosy in there. And the staff are really nice..the guy who made my Americano remembered that I'd been doing a gig last week and asked me how it went.

People like that make me happy.

Oh dear Jesus I am not looking forward to today. It is almost midday, that is HALF WAY THROUGH THE DAY, and I am still sitting here in my pyjamas. I have to wait for a hungover mother to rise so that I can have a shower and cover my arms in fake tan. I have decided to take the easy option and wear tights to the party. Then I have to go to town to find a present. And I have shitloads of homework to do. Ugh.

Sixteen years old and sitting a laptop on a Friday night. Hey! It could be worse!

And at last, the weekend rolls around.

I just have to write it, publish it, for myself.

Reading a friend's Bebo page today I noticed she had listed in her 'hates' drink culture and the discussion of it. She has mentioned this topic on numerous occasions, but seeing it declared for all to see on a social networking site (*deep intake of breath*) made me ponder it for a moment or two. And then of course I decided to blog about it.

Seriously, for a relatively smart girl, I cannot melt chocolate. I remember doing so in the past, most recently last February when I was in Kenmare on an outdoor activity trip for Gaisce. And it was successful. But now I try doing it for the topping for the caramel squares and it seized and went grainy. Looks shit now. It's because I didn't stir it or I had it on too high a heat as I have learned from Youtube videos I just watched. I really should have watched them beforehand because then I would have known to add a spoon or two of vegetable oil to fix it. So now they look like a five-year-old made them. Everyone's just going to have to be blindfolded as they eat them now.

I've decided to make myself some caramel squares, seeing as I've nothing better to do due to the oh-so-lovely Irish weather. Just waiting for my mother to leave the kitchen....

A friend of mine recently told me how her parents had washed their hands of her. Didn't sound too appealing to be honest...I mean my life has to be financed in some way. Yesterday though, it sort of happened for me. I went into town with my mother and brother because I needed to get books for school and I was meeting friends later on. Anyway, my mother, brother and I went to Coffee Central in the market to meet my aunt for, well, coffee. This particular coffee house is a a counter on a corner with about 6 seats. Due to the fact that it was written about in a newspaper recently my mother loves the place. Personally I would prefer somewhere with an adequate level of seating, but not my mother. The place was full, so I said 'Can we not just go to Butlers? I dunno why you're so obsessed with this place,' to which my mother replied 'I am not obsessed. There is a smaller cp of coffee here and it is much nicer.' Whatever. So basically she ended up telling my aunt and I to goo for coffee ourselves and she'd meet me in half an hour to get my books and proceeded to storm off. Oh the joys.