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.