031 - Kisses For Lula (Book Review)

When I picked up this book I had a preconceived idea of what to expect: teen girl, over-the-top romance and drama with little else going on between the pages. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Right from the beginning I was giggling away to myself as the main character, Lula, developed with endearing humour and striking relatability. The delivery of the story was refreshing, engaging and not what I expected. It was so much better!

All of the characters feel real, from Lula’s slightly estranged family to all of the boys she encounters, but the book’s strongest point is by far the underlying sense of mystery and suspense that had me – a 24 year old wannabe writer – abandoning everything (including sleep) to read the book (which is supposedly intended for teenage girls...phfft...) to find out 'who done it'.

Any girl with a sense of adventure will love this book, whether 15 years old and never been kissed, just like Lula, or 25, 45 or 85 and looking for a fond reminder of how it feels to be a teenager that will have you sighing with nostalgia and a lightness in your heart.

This book is very funny, very warming and very girly, and will leave any reader with a smile on her face. I can’t wait for 'Lula Does The Hula'...

030 - Shutter Island (Movie Review)

I heard a lot of different opinions on this movie before I went to see it with my sister. A few people said it was crap, but my sister's friend and our mother both said it was really good and "had a big twist at the end."

I think it was our extensive history of playing mind-probing games like Silent Hill that had my sister and I figuring out this 'big twist' within the first few minutes. Yet even though we knew what was going on both of us did love the movie. A lot.

It has to be said that it took me a while to get used to the atmosphere of the whole thing. Imagine one of those old movies with the detectives in their trench coats and fedora hats, squinty eyes and cigarettes hanging out of their mouths. Tense (yet, these days, laughable) soundtrack with heavy, dramatic drum pounding BUMM... BUMM BUMM... BUMM... EEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! That's the high pitched whistle/screech from an instrument I can never recognise. What made this different though, was the very modern way in which it was shot. It combined the old, fifties, crime thriller atmosphere, with edgy, suspenseful camera shots and unusual filming effects. Very, very strange. Very, very different. And very, VERY good.

The story is about this detective marshal guy and his partner that go to an island to investigate the disappearance (escape) of one of the patients (prisoners) of the mental institution that the island is home to. A simple idea that, as promised, is twisted and woven into a suspenseful plot that will have you hooked, even if you did guess the ending before the detectives even set foot on the island.

029 - Mundane Monday

This is how my day went:

I woke up. I sent a text to Matt. I got up. I did some laundry, but not all of it, because I don't have enough room on the airer for all my clothes. I discovered Microsoft wouldn't fix my xbox unless if had a specific error, and the likelyhood of forcing that specific error was slim. I emailed a repair company in Dublin for a quote. I put away the broken xbox and set up my Wii. My Wii (named Kittywiiiii) told me I've lost a little bit of weight since moving to Dublin, which is surprising. I played a bit of a really bad game. I recieved an email from the Dublin repair company saying they wouldn't touch my xbox, kthnxbye. I played a lot of Wall-E, and got frustrated because I couldn't complete levels meant for five year olds. I made an amazon.com wishlish despite not having a credit card. I discovered my housemate is not dead, he just hasn't been outside in days. I cut a few of my curls shorter because they kept stabbing me in the eyes. And I smiled. A lot.

028 - ECHOES sample #1

(As promised, though it's rough, and some may have read it already...)

The stagnant, late evening air of the train station hummed with the lingering smell of a hundred commuters that had passed through during rush hour. The scent of sweat and stale cigarettes mixed with the pungency of the grease on the train tracks. A large, Edwardian clock hung from the beams above platform one, telling everyone who glanced upwards that the evening had just turned eight o'clock.

The station only had two platforms, one feeding trains to the north and east, the other to the south and west, back into London city.

Three young men stood beneath the old clock, restless and impatient for the train that had yet to arrive.

“Sam, is that clock right?” the one of them asked. With scruffy, dark hair and a pointed nose, he was the shortest of the three and stood between them as though his friends could shield him from the chilly wind that had started to blow. His thin denim jacket didn’t look like it could defend him against the weather.

Both of the other boys glanced at the clock, but the one called Sam rolled back a sleeve and checked his watch.

“It’s right,” Sam answered before shoving his cold hands deep into the pockets of his coat.

Sam was the tallest of the three, a grey woollen hat pulled low over his ears, the collar of his coat turned up to hide his neck from the cold. He wore dark grey jeans and black trainers. With the black of his coat the only colours he had were the flushed pink of his cheeks and the vibrant blue-green of his eyes.

“Didn’t you just asked that?” the third boy said, a subtle hint of humour in his words. Turning to Sam, he added, “I think Lloyd can hear the whip cracking from here.”

Sam laughed, and Lloyd flicked a finger at them both before answering. “Just because you can’t find anyone to stand your company longer than a few hours, Tony, doesn’t mean you have to get irritable.” He said it with a smile.

“Maybe it was the four tortillas he had for lunch,” Sam offered, patting his stomach and making a face of exaggerated discomfort.

Tony regarded Sam with accusation, but kept his mouth shut. Tony was the only one who didn’t seem to notice the dropping temperature, no doubt because of the puffy ski jacket that swallowed his average frame.

They had spent the day at a football game that Lloyd’s brother was playing in and had decided to take the train home. Lloyd was going to visit his girlfriend who lived much closer to central London than they did, and Tony decided to travel most of the way with him for the company, the train line running not too far from where he lived.

Lloyd passed another comment about Tony’s frigidity, which was answered in kind, and Sam kept out of it as they bickered back and forth for several minutes. Most days Sam would have picked a side and joined in, but even from when he woke up some ten hours earlier he had felt exhausted. He put it down to a restless night with not much sleep. A regular occurrence.

Yawning loudly, Sam was stretching the stiffening muscles in his back when a flicker of bright blue caught his eye.

It didn’t take him long to find the source.

027 - So, There's This Guy...

Ok, no, wait! Don't skip over this one. I promise it's not ALL gush and mush. Just read it. Unless that kind of thin makes you uncomfortable...

I'm not shy of guys. Don't get me wrong; I can count my 'experiences' on one hand, but I thought that I had the male population figured out. You can't have everything, I'd told myself a long time ago. You just have to accept what you're given, make the most of what you get. Don't expect anything, don't demand anything, and you won't be disappointed.

I wanted someone that would fuss a bit but not too much, would cuddle me without being asked, kiss my forehead just because, tuck my hair behind my ear before I get to it. Someone who would want to do things for me and with me because he wanted to, not because he felt he had to.

So, there's this guy, who covers all of the above and more ten times over, and I've found myself a little bit out of my depth, and more than a little scared. That horrible monster of doubt in my head keeps telling me he's too good for me, still saying "You can't have everything..."

Soooo.... I'm going to have to make life as great for him as he makes it for me, somehow...

Or I'm gonna need a really big cage...

026 - Persuit of Happiness?

Sometimes, things just work.

You probably wont be expecting anything, and you might even be just content in whatever situation you're in... and then BAM! It happens. Something good, and right and it makes your day or your week or if you've had a really bad month, that too.

The real happiness comes when you least expect it, I think. You don't have to fight for it, you don't have to create it... it just happens. Because if you have to fight or search for something to make you happy, it has already lost some of it's magic while you were hunting for it.

You really cherish the thrill and elation that the unexpected happiness brings. In fact, I doubt you could resist the urge to smile if and when it happens.

025 - Maury's Lessons

For the record I can't stand shows like Maury and Jerry Springer, but having watched some episodes in my days of unemployment I have learned a few valuable lessons...

If a hick is pregnant, the baby belongs to someone other than her partner.
If a black guy looks innocent, he's guilty.
If a white guy looks guilty, he's innocent.
If you look like the back end of a horse, you will have had several abusive relationships.
If your wife looks like the front end of a horse, you are in an abusive relationship.
If your best friend and your partner are both ugly, they are sleeping with each other.
If your best friend is ugly and your partner is attractive, and they're sleeping together, you're pregnant.
If you wear big hoop earrings, your partner is cheating.
If you're on Jerry Springer, you're probably a hick.
If you're on Maury, you're probably a minority.
If you're on Dr. Phil, you're white and can't afford a real psychologist.
If you're waiting for any of these shows, don't do anything with the obvious hot decoy they send into the green room before the show. It's a trap!

024 - Smell Of Work

I was reminded yesterday of when my little sister and I were young and we would get a hug off one of our parents. Occasionally - say, if our dad was working in the garden - he would really stink of sweat, and when we would complain he would tell us off because it was 'the smell of work' we were complaining about. Even at the time I was not too convinced of what he was saying.

I've always had a sensitive nose. I'm usually first to notice when the toast is burning or when the dog has had an accident.

Why am I talking about this? Well, between then nasty sweaty guy that sat beside me on the bus, and one of my housemates that doesn't wash very often, and the frequent whiff of people passing on the street... sigh.

I just want to be able to tell people to wash, and to wear deodorant and not be afraid of using too much of it because if they stink there really is no such thing as too much.

If work smells like B.O. I'd rather lazy or plain old unemployed people in my personal space, any day of the week.

023 - I Am Legend (Book Review)

The book, not movie, so if you want to read it don't read this blog.

I've only ever seen the movie once, and as far as I recall it has Will Smith and his dog, the last two survivers in the world swarming with monsters that only come out at night. Then he has to kill his dog, and then he meets a woman... does the woman have a kid? I can't remember... anyway, if you've seen the movie you'll know how different the book is.

Robert Neville in the book is a blonde, blue-eyed white dude. The monsters are vampires, and some of them are intelligent, speaking beings. He's living by himself, killing the vamps, for about two years before a dog comes along. And he spends a few months trying to befriend the dog and then it dies. He never owned it. As for other people, well, he meets a woman but it turns out she's a vamp that's evolved, and in the end they kill him, because he was the scary monster that was killing their society.

It was a good story, but the delivery was terrible. 90% of the book was made up of him repeating himself, getting angry, and researching all the science behind how the vampires were created and evolved. Only the end was any good. You could read the last 4 chapters and get the best of the story.

022 - Imperfection

It's something no one wants and everyone fights against. Even I, who has always been proud of quite a few of my quirks, has plenty more that I would change in an instant if I could.

My nose has an ugly bump that I hate.
I have a chickenpox scar on my forehead, on my nose and on my temple.
My feet are a frustrating size... I fit wide 8 or regular 9, but I know of only one shop that stocks either of these.
My legs are 34” long, making them one inch longer than long length bottoms.
My ass is huge and my belly is shameful.
I have a scar on my back that looks like I had a tail removed.
My right eye has a little peanut shape of brown on the white and I don't know why.
My hair... god, don't get me started on my hair.

Would I change any of these things?

No, because they make me who I am.

Yes, because I want to be 'perfect me' just like anyone else does.

There is no right answer.

021 - Extreme Reaction

I've realised that while my approach to life detailed in 018 is close to the mark, it's not quite the solution to who I am.

Oh yes... I have been thinking. Run for the hills.

The idea of caring less is a good one, but maybe not in the F*ck It extreme.

As in 010, I am a little bit... what's the word I'm looking for? Hmm... As I said to my friend, I can either be the nicest person in the world or your worst nightmare. It doesn't take much for me to go from confused or questioning to totally irate, irrational and stubborn. And then I get a headache.

I don't need to say f*ck it, really. I just need to figure out how to react less to things. (Am I repeating myself now? I swear what I'm trying to explain is a different idea).

I'll try it with examples.

Firstly, this is an echo of a conversation I've had recently, summarised but accurate.

Him: I'm headed to the pub.
Me: Why? [mildly annoyed]
Him: The lads are going. I'm going to see my friends.
Me: What pub? Why are you going to the pub?
Who is going? [increasingly annoyed]
Him: [frustrated] Because I want to, ok?
[insert hours of stomping and teeth grinding and snapping and a headache while he went to the pub anyway]

Secondly, this is how I could have handled it, like a normal, well-adjusted person.

Him: I'm headed to the pub.
Me: With who? [interested]
Him: Friends from college, a few of the lads...
Me: Ok, have fun! Be safe!
Him: Thanks, hun. Have a good night!
[later, everyone is still in a good mood, no headache, with good chance of lovin's and friendly banter about the friends from college and the lads.]

...which could ultimately lead to something more along the lines of...

Him: I'm headed to the pub.
Me: Alright, have fun!
Him: Do you want to come?
[good, happy times all round]

See, even writing the happier scenario makes me feel happier right now! I just hope I don't have to talk to myself every time to figure out when I'm about to be a total cow.

I have a lot of uh.... quirks... that I need to work on, but my reactions in the extreme are probably at the core of most of them. So if I manage those, I think I'm doing well.

020 - Demotion

It's amazing how easily someone can remove you from their lives, where you get demoted from 'good friend' to 'facebook friend' and ultimately be totally removed from their lives in a matter of minutes.

It makes me wonder what kind of person they were in the first place, to kick someone to the kerb over a minor disagreement, and to do it so easily too.

Do I care? Of course. No one likes to be friend-dumped. Am I going to beat myself up about it? No, because lets face it, if they can block me out so easily they weren't much of a friend deep down in the first place, were they?

So here's to real friends, to those that matter.

019 - Absence

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder..."

*****

Right?

Well, I'm not sure if that's 100% accurate all the time. What I do know is that when you talk to someone a lot - whether it's almost constantly or every day or something regular - whenever that conversation stops it's extremely difficult to not pick up the phone! I never thought it would be, but I know that there are one or two people that I feel that way about now. It's worse when I'm alone and bored, because I get an itch to just talk to them, to pass the time or to make me smile.

And if anyone wants to know who those people are, ask me and I'll tell you.

018 - The F*ck It Philosophy

"Most people are about as happy as they make up their minds to be."

- Abraham Lincoln

*****

Every time I try to live by the F*ck It Philosophy I only follow it until it works, then I forget about it and revert to my old ways.

For anyone really seriously interested in what I'm talking about, find a book called 'F**k It: The Ultimate Spiritual Way' by John Parkin. It basically tells you how letting go and saying "F*ck it" to things that bother us and stress us out too much and just take life for what it is. It says to just stop caring so much, because if you stop caring so much there's less of a chance to get hurt.

I know it sounds terrible, but it really does work.

Say there's something you're nervous about to the point of stress. Try saying f*ck it, letting go and just getting on with things, whether thats doing whatever it is you're nervous about or forgetting about doing it altogether. F*ck it.

It applies to relationships too, where if you stop freaking out over the little things that really don't matter, say f*ck it, take a deep breath, chill out and let it go. Realise it really doesn't matter. Even with the worst case scenario the world is not going to end. Life moves on and sooner or later it all works out, whether how we thought it would or not.

So this is me, saying f*ck it to whatever negativity comes my way and in turn I'll enjoy the good stuff, whatever and whenever that may be. Bring it on.

017 - F*ck Th*s Sh*t

Ever have a day that you cried so hard you felt physically and metally exhausted? I did today.

Tomorrow wont be much better, I'd say.

Watch this space.

016 - Alcoholic Dysfunction

"No, thanks, I don't drink."
"What?"
"I don't drink."
"What? At all?!"

*****

I don't drink. Everyone knows I don't drink and most people know why. It's just who I am. Lately though, I've started to wonder if I'm being snobby or just plain sad because I don't drink at all, never really go to pubs unless it's to babysit someone on the booze, and never ever go clubbing.

I've been wondering if people think strange of me because of it, or if I'm wrong to get annoyed or exasperated when people close to me drink too much (please do consider why I don't drink, here).

The only times I've ever considered drinking was when I was very down or depressed or angry with life in general, and I knew if I started drinking because of that it would be a very steep downward slope. I suppose that fear is also a reason I don't drink; the fear that I wont know how or when to stop, like most of my family. And the fear, too, that I'll do something I'd regret. I have little enough willpower sober as it is.

I've always been of the mind that if anyone snubs me for not drinking, "don't knock it til you've tried it", I would say the same thing to them; "Totally sober? Don't knock it..."

On a viewpoint away from my family though, I still can't say I'd drink anyway. I mean, what is so appealing about losing control, losing morals and inhibition, not remembering the night before or remembering and regretting things you've said or done, the hangovers, the fights, the depleting condition of health when you drink regularly. Someone once answered that it's good because you might do things you wouldn't normally do. Isn't that a bad thing though? Usually when I don't want to do or say something I have a very good reason. Why drink and forget that reason, and regret doing whatever it was I didn't want to do in the first place? Someone else told me it's because their friends drink, they drink. Really? What kind of friends can't amuse themselves without getting hammered?

I know I'm rambling, but I've seen a lot of people do a lot of stupid things when drunk - from one guy declaring his love for me, to my own mother throwing boiling water in my face - and I can't see how my life or anyone else's is better when they're sloshed.

015 - Like A Real One, Only Smaller

"Does this rag smell like chloroform to you?"

*****

I've come to the realisation that this daily blog is going to prove a little bit difficult. So I'm settling for one-per-day but not necessarily daily. So, if I miss one like I did yesterday I'll just catch up the day after. That's fair, right?

The funny thing is, I actually had something I wanted to blog about yesterday, and I was all ready to do it too until something came up. Now I can't remember what it was. I can't even remember where I was when I thought of it, so either it'll come back to me when I do it again, or it's gone forever. Oh dear... that could have been the best blog ever and now no one will ever know! The horror!!!

Anyway, yesterday was pretty productive. I stood in line for two hours at the welfare office to get my address changed and I should be able to get my unemployment allowance down here in Dublin instead of having to go up to my parents every single week. That's a very good thing.

I also joined the library, at last! It's great. It's the biggest library in the country. I knew this before going up there and I'm not sure what I was expecting but... well, ok, to be honest I was sort of expecting something huge, like Hogwarts library, but it wasn't all that impressive. Sure it was big, but it wasn't huge. I guess I'm still getting used to being in such a small city again. Everything that is big in comparison to the rest of Ireland really isn't all that compared to the rest of the world. We're a small, quaint little place really. The library though was pretty well stocked and had plenty of study cubicles so I might end up there now and again when I get back into my writing. I'm actually quite excited about the idea of it.

014 - ... huh??

"What the..."

*****

Has anyone heard about a mental hospital discharging all it's patients at once, say, today?

Dublin today was just... weird! Maybe it was the nice weather, or maybe it was Mother's Day that had all the nutcases out and about, but I can't remember ever seeing so many in one city at one time. And I've been in a fair few cities.

People with really weird paper hats; people dressed entirely in red (and I mean entirely); random guys talking to themselves; one dude that was standing on a manhole cover, hands out like he was balancing but staying perfectly still; a bunch of girls dressed in hotpants, leg warmers and string vests asking a guard for directions; the taxi driver whose car smelled like baby nappies... and that's just all I can remember.

Other than the typical weirdness I saw the same guy on two different buses I'd been on. He was giving me funny looks, but I reckon it could have been because I was staring. Not to mention the few instances that I thought I saw people I knew... but I actually didn't.

All in all, a very weird day, BUT I did go to Wagamamas for the first time ever.

013 - Anatidaephobia?

"We just haven't been able to rent it because of the ducks. They scare the kids..."

*****

Over the course of the day I've been remembering strange and somewhat disturbing pieces of the dreams I had last night.

The first one I remembered, as it was the one I had right before I actually woke up, was a dream where I was still with one of my exes. Funnily enough, it was the ex that is still waiting for me to take him back. I woke up and thought 'why the HELL was he in my dream?!' and for the life of me, I really don't know. Maybe I saw some scary blond dude yesterday and it triggered something in my subconscious. And no, it wasn't a happy dream.

The second one I remembered this morning, before leaving the house. It was even stranger than the first. It was about my old college friend, Donna, and she was getting married (Donna is engaged and pregnant right now, but she had no bump in my dream). And she'd asked me to be a bridesmaid. There is no sound reason I should be dreaming of Donna (haven't really spoken to her that much in recent years) and there was definitely no reason I was her bridesmaid. The dress was strapless, salmon pink and had a black belt. And for some reason, Donna was floating about four foot higher than everyone else. Which if you think about it is kinda cute.

Anyway, the third and most disturbing dream I had forgotten about until just an hour ago. I was viewing an apartment to rent. The place was stunning, big, well decorated, all that jazz, and it was really cheap. I know this because I asked the letting agent why it was so cheap and she said it was because of the ducks. Right when she said it I pulled back the curtain on one of the windows and in true DUNDUNDUNNN fashion, there was a duck! Only, it was dead, looked like it had been chewed on or something, and had teeth. It was rolled up and stretched so it looked a bit like a rubber chicken, and was lodged up against the windowsill. There endeth the dream.

I don't get it.

012 - Men...!?

"At least you don't date women. With men there's always at least one right thing to say. With women, it's rare that there is ever a right thing to say..."

*****

It's true! So if I ever complain about being a straight women, remind me of that, someone, please.

I'm not going to give any details about how my day started out because it will get me into serious trouble, but it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out the general gist of it. What I am going to share with you are a few points that I've learned about men and women over the past few years.

Men let go of things a lot faster than women. That doesn't mean he'll apologise first, but if left to themselves after an argument, men will calm down faster. Women can hold their bad mood aaaaall daaay if they feel like it, even if it's not really fair on the guy... even if it doesn't make sense any more.

Women are more likely to talk to their friends about their partner or their partner-related problems. Men either don't bring it up at all, or take it up with their partner directly. Why? I have no idea.

Both men and women - whether single, committed, married or otherwise - will look at (as in, 'check out') other women/men. If they say they don't, they're lying. If someone tells their partner to stop doing it, they're being hypocritical. Everyone looks. Looking is fine, though. Look, but don't touch. It's when people aren't satisfied with just looking that problems start.

For the sceptical women out there; men have feelings too! I know, have a chuckle, but for every broken-hearted women out there there's a broken man too. No, they don't get over it any faster than we do. Yes, losing a love is just as painful for them. I know most women might find it hard to believe, but think about my previous point that women talk more than men. It makes sense that women think they feel so much more pain from a break-up when they share it with their friends so easily, but it's just not the case. And I'll kick and bury as many of my friends' ex-girlfriends as I will ex-boyfriends if I ever get my hands on them...

Anyone else have any Men&Women observations to share?

011 - Momentary Amnesia

"Why are there shamrocks on the windows?"

*****

Have you ever had a memory fail, and totally forgot where you are? That's what happened to me today. It was so strange! I've been back in Ireland for nearly 3 years now and today I forgot. I was on the bus and spotted a building with paper shamrocks in the windows and I scoffed, and got quite annoyed because shamrocks are symbolic of Ireland, and they had no reason to be used as decoration in... uh... oh.

Yup, for a brief moment, I forgot what country I was in. It was really weird!

Am I the only one that gets THAT confused now and again?

010 - Devil In Me

*****

Has anyone else ever come to the conclusion that they're actually probably a little bit psychotic?

I was sitting on the bus yesterday evening, thinking about anything that ran through my head and I realised that most of what I thought about probably wasn't that normal. Then, of course, I started wondering what a normal thought process actually is.

It wasn't until today though, that I was watching a TV show and on that TV show was a guy that was obviously psychotic... and I could draw quite a few lines of similarity between us. That can't be a good thing, surely.

I've always known I've had problems with my temper, though some instances are better than others. A lot of the time I can let things pass, just let go of whatever it is that annoys me. But other times things get blown way out of control. Maybe I'm too sensitive to situations or emotions and just can't get over the small things as easily as I should be able to.

I don't know. I've never asked anyone about their mental state before for comparison.

With me, it seems to be a bit all-or-nothing. I have a few very close friends, and hardly any acquaintances, which seems to reflect the all-or-nothing idea. When I meet someone new I throw everything into the friendship/relationship, totally open, completely devoted to having fun and getting to know the person. Sometimes this works, like when the other person actually likes having the opportunity to talk to someone new so easily, or to spend so much time with someone. Sometimes it falls on it's ass, like when people can't handle the full-on attention, or of they just think I'm a bit much. The worst part, however, is when everything is fine and rosy for the first while and then things fall apart. I think because I put so much into such relationships there's so much to lose, so much to damage when things turn sour.

Things turn sour very easily, though, which brings me back to the all-or-nothing, easily-wounded idea. I get upset or angered at the smallest of things and I really shouldn't. I should let things go rather than dwelling on the small things. Maybe I shouldn't put so much of myself into new friendships and relationships so easily.

I hope that all that makes some sort of sense...

009 - R.I.P. Yorkie

"He's special..."

*****

I don't like cats. Everyone knows it and most know why. Yet there was one cat that wasn't really a cat to me. He was this awesome little dude with a penchant for blank walls and scaring the crap out of me with his spastic sudden movements. Yorkie was my friend's (/ honourary brother's) cat and he passed away this morning. So here you go, a short and sweet dedication to the only cat that I ever really took to in the past few years, and the only one I really 'got'.

Which isn't exactly a good thing since the poor little guy was off his rocker.

I love you, Yorkie, and I miss you already. x

008 - Far, Far Away

"I'm like a kid at a Star Wars concert... oh, wait...!"

*****

Yesterday my awesome friend Matt took me to see Star Wars, In Concert. I know what you're thinking... and you're right. It really is that nerdy. And you know what? It's GREAT! I WANT TO GO AGAIN!!!

Lights, smoke, lasers, big screens, weird metal stage... what's not to love?

I can't remember seeing the original trilogy, and as far as I recall I've only seen one or two of the new ones, so apart from Episode III and Matt showing me Episode IV earlier in the week, I had no real clue what it was going to be like. As a lover of live performances and music, I was really excited to go. And it really was amazing. The music - and especially the choir - gave me goosebumps. While I wanted to see the other movies before I now really have to. I neeeeed to!

While an appreciation of the movies is probably necessary for most people for pay through the nose for a ticket (we got ours for free, sshh),anyone that loved orchestral music would love the concert. So, girls, if your fella wants to go and you don't want to do anything Star Wars-y, get over yourself and just go. You might actually like it. And you shouldn't deny any Star Wars fan the chance to see it, even if that fan is as half-arsed as I am.

007 - Material Girl

"I need..."

*****

I noticed that I've stopped saying 'I want' and started saying 'I need'. I don't think it was a conscious decision to change my words, but when I catch myself saying I want something I do stop and correct myself, saying instead that I need it. Which is a lie. I don't need any of the things I say that I want. I don't NEED my laptop fixed (well... ish), I don't NEED my Xbox to work again, I don't need to go to the shop on my way home in the morning and get a dirty great big breakfast roll when I have a huge box of cereal to get through and plenty of fruit. I don't need another pair of lazy pants when I already have a pair.

It's strange because I can't remember when exactly things changed for me. When I was little all I needed was my imagination to get by, and now I'm battling with a false need for... for things! New books or games or anything that costs money that I don't really have. Perhaps I needed to be totally broke to realise how materialistic I've become.

I do miss my laptop though!!!

006 - Laugh or Cry

"Smoke is never a good thing..."

*****

So, after the hallway adventures of blog 004 I thought I had my fair share of bad luck for at least one week. Well, I was wrong.

Yesterday morning my laptop was 'kind of broken' and easily fixed, but while trying to do this easy fix, 'kind of broken' turned into 'very broken'. Yes, there was smoke. Yes, I did cry (but not until today). And yes, it is going to cost a helluva lot to fix. We're talking about a decision of whether it's worth fixing despite it being only 6 months old, or if I'd be better off buying a new one altogether. The problem with this picture? Yep, you guessed it. I'm BROKE!

In fact, I'm MORE THAN broke. I owe MYSELF money!

Not only that, but my phone is also on it's last legs, and my xbox 360 decided today to not play any xbox 360 games. Classic xbox games? Sure. DVDs? Yup. The games I actually want to play? Uhm... no.

So here I am, needing an excuse to feed to my parents if my friend can't shit miracles and fix my baby, using my roomie's very first laptop (we're talking Windows ME, don't-close-the-lid-or-it'll-snap-off, just-give-it-a-couple-of-minutes kinda thing) to read my emails and update my blog, but not at the same time. Dare I try Facebook?

So, in conclusion, technology hates me. And I hate technology.

But at least I can still blog.

005 - Sing For Your Supper

*****

Buskers.

Personally they only really annoy me when they're really terrible (but then you can walk away) or really pushy for money.

I've always liked the diversity of some of the street performers in Dublin. Most other cities I've been to have a singer with an acoustic guitar on every corner, or at a push some sort of magician. Here though, you just get really weird stuff. Like the guy who writes message on the pavement with chalk. Or the guy who has been painting the same square inch of a huge, incomplete mural for the last 2 years (really? come on). Or the guy that does the exact same sand sculpture every time and it only takes him a few seconds! Amazing! Not. Where else in the world have you seen a grand piano set up in the middle of the street though, or a strange middle-aged woman play a harp, or a full 5 or 6 or 7 piece band, from indie rock to a full out Beatles tribute. And then there are the weird little kids that just sing.

Anyone that's visited Dublin seem to like the street performers. Everyone that lives here tends to hate them. Though, what I was surprised to find out about is that Dublin are hosting an International Street Performers Festival... I think I'll pass.

004 - Blog? Me?

"You're going to blog about this, aren't you?"
"No, because I won't get back on time!"

*****

I know, I know... It's technically 5th March and technically I missed a day, but I'm not going to just let it slide past and hope no one notices, am I?

So, what happened? It's quite funny really. No, honestly.

I was at my awesome friend, Matt's place earlier today and the time came when I had to go home. So as per usual, Matt was going to take me back into town so the Big Bad Wolf didn't get me by myself. Anyway... too-much-detail-story short, Matt's place has two doors you have to go through to get in and out. One door between the flat and the hall, one between the hall and outside. Right? With me so far?

We left the flat, into the hall, shut the door... and Matt realised we didn't pick up his keys. And no, we couldn't open the hall/outside door without them either...

Forty-five minutes (trapped in the hallway) later Matt broke into his flat. Literally.

They really don't make door frames like they used to...

So I missed the last bus and the last train, and got a taxi home.

But it was really funny...

003 - Face Value

"A person is only beautiful when their own beauty is reflecting on to others."

- Tara Grady

*****

It's not usually something I dwell on, but several separate conversations and topics over the last few days have revolved around natural beauty and Hollywood beauty, and what people perceive as a standard of attractiveness.

I've always believed that every single person is beautiful to someone, somewhere. Some people have the kind of face or features or body that turn more heads than not, but those kind of people probably count for about 5% of the population. The rest of us, well, we're beautiful to a more select group of people. At least, that's what I've always thought.

Unfortunately it's obvious that mentality isn't shared by everyone.

I guess you could say this is a blast against the media in general; the people behind the cameras and the magazines, the make-up artists and plastic surgeons. Somewhere along the line in the past 30 years or so the public perception of what is beautiful or ideal - what is or should be attractive to the opposite sex - has changed, and it's still changing.

We are lead to believe that what men want is something women simply cannot deliver. At least, not without sacrificing one's health or genetic make-up.

OK, so not every woman would want to change their face structure or their body to get a man, but what about the women that plaster several layers of make-up on before leaving the house? If we're not expected to change our bodies to look like Megan Fox or Lindsey Lohan, are we expected to at least slap on the war paint? Very few women survive without at least a little bit of make-up, which is something I've always known but only recently started to wonder, why? Is turning your face into a work of art really going to make you more attractive to the opposite sex? Or does it say you're trying too hard? If that's the case, is there such a thing as trying too little? Should women always have some sort of mask, some ounce of falseness, to be beautiful?

If the answer is no, then why are images and ideas that skinny, tanned, toned, pouting young women what men really want?

002 - Twi...uuuugh

*****

Once upon a time, the Twilight series of books were some of my favourite. I read them through once and jumped on the fangirl bandwagon. I was hooked. I was so hooked that when the first movie came out I was more than excited. I went to see it in the cinema three times. I bought the DVD.

Twilight was on TV last night, so I settled down to watch it. I managed about thirty minutes before turning it over.

WHAT WAS I THINKING?!

Where was I and what kind of state of mind was I in when I actually loved this movie, and swooned over the books? I'm not going to go on a rant about why I don't like them any more, because I'm sure anyone that would read this has already heard their fill of negativity. All I will say is that the guy in the video above, Alex Day (aka. Nerimon on youtube - check him out!) makes some very good points, and I prefer watching his short videos about the books than actually reading the books.

Edit: I remember where I was when I first read Twilight. I was in hospital. Maybe I needed somewhere to escape to so badly that I was thankful for Meyer's work... huh...

001 - Superstar D.J.!

'I think that each of us inhabits a private world that others cannot see. The only difference between the writer and the reader is that the writer is able to dramatise that private world. But that private world, once it is dramatised, doesn't live again until it finds a reader.'

- John McGahern (1934-2006)

*****

So here it is. Day one in the life of an unemployed girl in the best city in the world! I may be slightly biased there though.

I feel like I should be making some sort of a pledge to go along with this new-start-new-year thing (yes, I know it's March, but I'm starting a bit late). Maybe I wont cut my hair for a year. Maybe I'll get back on track with my weight loss. Maybe I'll stop saying "maybe". I have a book to write, that's for sure. And I have a city to explore and conquer.

I'll keep you all updated with my adventures.