This is turning into a bit of a weekend journal. I just write about what I do on the weekend, skipping the working week. Mostly this is because, unsurprisingly, nothing interesting happens during the week. I wish I had the strength to party Monday to Friday, and go to work, and party all weekend, but it seems I’m too old for that sort of thing. Oooh wow, I thought I’d be at least 7 years older than I am before I ever muttered that phrase.
Physically I’m at work from nine until five, which is eight hours, but in reality work takes up much more time than that. I get up at 7.00 (well, I set my alarm for seven, but in reality I get up much closer to 7.20) and from then up until nine I’m getting ready for work and then going to work. Then I work till five. Then I travel home from work and get home about six thirty. So in reality I spend eleven and a half hours a day (at least) doing work-related activities. Eleven and a half out of twenty four. Subtract the eight hours I spend sleeping each day, and that leaves only four and a half measly hours each day to do all the life stuff - cook, clean, have a shower, iron my shirts (ok, ok, I almost never do that), go grocery shopping, et cetera et cetera. Now that I think about it it’s a bloody miracle I get anything done at all.
Of course this situation is nothing new; everyone has to deal with it when they begin full time work. Gone are the breezy days of studying Arts with only 10 or so contact hours a week; where a cup of coffee and a relaxing chat were never more than a double lecture away. The university years can be the best in your life, if you make the most of them. I must say though, personally, I think this year rivals first year uni for most fun had, even though I am working full time.
Travelling enables you to Etch-a-Sketch your life; you put some effort in and give it a long, hard shake, and suddenly you have a new slate on which you can draw whatever you like. Hopefully, if things have gone right, previous experience has taught you a few things, you don’t make the same mistakes as last time, and your picture is cleaner and more beautiful. Or maybe, as in my case, your confidence in your ability to draw has grown and you can take more risks with your drawing, so it has the potential to become something really special, rather than a simple sketch. But I think now I’ve stretched this metaphor far beyond its limits, so I’ll move on to the next topic.
The big news in my life at the moment is that I’m going to Paris on the 30th, with the Polish Maria and her brother Mike. It’s going to be loads and loads of fun (I hope) but very expensive fun. Still, Paris! It’s the Paris of Europe! You know, as opposed to Melbourne, the Paris of Australia, or New Orleans, the Paris of North America, or Seoul, which I think may refer to itself as the Paris of South-East Asia. I kind of have this idea that I’ll step off the plane and there’ll be all these people in stripy t-shirts and berets, and the music from “Amelie” will be playing, and everything will be all French. The reality will probably be that I’ll get to the airport about 22:00 and everything will be dark, and I won’t be able to find the hostel, and there’ll be no berets but everyone will speak French all right and it’ll be Copenhagen all over again (except in French not Danish). Mike and Maria aren’t arriving until Saturday morning so I’ll have to sort myself out on the Friday. I get back to Dublin about 17:00 on Sunday afternoon, so I’ll be wrecked for the next week at work, but I came to Europe to travel, so there’s no way I’m staying in Dublin all year!
On that note, especially for all my beloved relatives reading this – I asked my boss for four weeks off over Christmas and he agreed! So I’ll be in Buenos Aires on the 10th of December, and 2 or 3 weeks later I’ll be flying to Denver to visit my cousin Ana in Colorado, and hopefully I can see San Francisco, New York and Boston while I’m there. New Orleans was in the plans but after Katrina I’m not sure what state the city will be in at that stage (yes, it’ll still be in Louisiana, haha). I’ll be short on time, but I can’t ask for any more than four weeks, it’s more than I’m entitled to anyway.
Hmmm, it’s 20:21 and my flatmates still aren’t home yet. Should I be worried? It’s so weird to be home alone, but I must say I’m enjoying the solitude (I get precious little of it here). I can play all the music I like, and nobody to complain. Plus they all like to watch TV which is totally irritating because the free-to-air TV in Ireland is terrible (much like back home, except for channel 10 of course Meags). Shelley always puts Sky News on in the mornings when we’re eating breakfast which shits me to tears because I’ve just woken up, and all I want is a bit of peace and quiet while I eat my muesli, and suddenly some upper-class English toff is waffling about David Beckham’s new haircut. The silver lining to this particular cloud is that I know the entertainment news comes on at 07:50, which is when I have to leave. So when they start on about celebrity weddings and such I know I have to get out or I’ll be late for work.
Anyway, it’s starting to get late. Well, actually it’s only 8:30 but I’ve turned into a total grandma during the week and have to be in bed by 10 or I turn into a pumpkin. This Thursday I’m going to see the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion with some friends, so I’ll be totally wrecked on Friday, but hey, nobody gets stuff done on Friday right? Hehe just kidding if anyone from ACS is reading this! I can’t wait for the concert, I’ve heard so much about the JSBE and how great they are, so it should be a good time. I’ll let you know about it soon!
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Saturday, September 03, 2005
I want to rock and roll all night, and party every day
This week at work was totally wretched, so I won’t waste my breath talking about it, or my energy reliving it. I think I left off last time talking about the Ojos de Brujo concert in Dùn Laoghaire (it’s pronounced Doon Leary – pronunciations in Irish make even less sense than in English, if that is possible). It’s really pretty, much more so than Dublin. If only I hadn’t forgotten my camera I could have posted some pictures...not that I’ve posted any of Dublin yet anyway! (soon soon, I promise) There’s a picturesque harbour with lots of little boats, some cute cafés and of course pubs. It reminds me a bit of Port Douglas actually, but less touristy (thankfully).
Anyway, the Festival of World Cultures was on, and every single Spanish person in Dublin was pretty much at this concert (it was free). We’d brought some beers, like everyone else there, but were made to tip them out onto the grass by an overzealous garda. While technically we were breaking the law by drinking in a public park, really it was a bit ridiculous as EVERYBODY was drinking and having a good time, nobody was drunk or fighting or anything. We were just enjoying some beers at a show, but the gardaí weren’t going to give anyone any leeway whatsoever. This in a country where the pubs close at 23:00 because the citizens start drinking at 10:00 and don’t stop until closing time.
Anyway, enough about that. The concert was great, out in the open air (it didn’t rain); we were dancing and generally going crazy.
Afterwards Eoin was going to check out this other guy, Declan O’Rourke, who was supposed to be playing outside some pub. That sounded good, so Eoin, Alan, Barry, two friends of theirs and I made our way to the pub where he was supposed to play. Declan was amazing – what an incredible voice, and he writes the most beautiful lyrics:
and with the melody those words are made a thousand times more beautiful. Plus there were only about 50 people at that gig, as opposed to the hundreds at the other one, so all in all I enjoyed it much more than the Ojos de Brujo, even though both were good.
After Declan’s mesmerising performance we danced the night away at the pub and finally caught the night bus home at about 02:00.
Right. Now skip forwards almost one week to last night (Friday). I was feeling lousy at work so thank christ I received a text from Alan who was having an impromptu shindig at his place. Being able to look forward to some fun times helped me get through the day, and by 17:00 I was so ready to relax with a couple of beers and a bunch of mates. (Side note: the downside of working with almost all Muslims is we never go for after work drinks on a Friday!).
Thankfully Alan’s place is only 10 minutes walk from my place (not that my directionally-challenged brain could remember how to get there, so I had to ring him and ask for directions, how embarrassing). When I got there the party was already in full swing, so I sat down with some French people and co-incidentally began talking to the only Italian in the bunch. Fascinating guy, an electrical engineer with a passion for abstract art. Pretty soon we were joined by Maria and Eric, a fun Polish couple. Maria invited me to go and visit her city in Poland with her and she’d show me around. We may even be taking a trip to Paris together (depending on my financial situation, which at the moment is quite dire). I can’t wait, as exploring a new city is always better if you have someone to be excited with. Maria also gets almost as excited about things as I do, which is quite fun, but we can get quite loud as you can imagine!
I had lots of fascinating conversations touching on just about any topic you can think of, drank some beers, ate a lot of potato chips, and danced to everything from the Beatles (yay) to 50s backbeat to blues to hip hop to rocking guitar tunes to psychadelic experimental crazy stuff (including a mad wicked version of the Beach Boys’ “Good Vibrations”). It started off as a raging party but by 03:00 or 04:00 we were wittled down to five or six people listening to the crazy psychadelic music and talking. It was such a great vibe and none of us wanted it to end, but finally at 05:00 we decided to call it quits and go to bed. Robbie (the Italian guy) did the gentlemanly thing and walked me home, although Dublin is pretty safe, and I’m sure I would have been okay on my own.
Today I had all these plans to hop on the Number 44 bus to Enniskerry and visit the beautiful Powerscourt Gardens, but as can be expected I got up late and lazed around listening to my new Declan O’Rourke CD (which I so cannot afford at the moment). It’s quite a nice day outside so I might go to the park later and write, and/or have a snooze. To all of you who have been urging me to, rest assured, I’ve finally started writing again. I always meant to, but I never got the motivation until last week at Alan’s place, I said that I had always wanted to be a writer, and Eoin said, “Well, just fucking do it”. So I’m going to just fucking do it.
Anyway, the Festival of World Cultures was on, and every single Spanish person in Dublin was pretty much at this concert (it was free). We’d brought some beers, like everyone else there, but were made to tip them out onto the grass by an overzealous garda. While technically we were breaking the law by drinking in a public park, really it was a bit ridiculous as EVERYBODY was drinking and having a good time, nobody was drunk or fighting or anything. We were just enjoying some beers at a show, but the gardaí weren’t going to give anyone any leeway whatsoever. This in a country where the pubs close at 23:00 because the citizens start drinking at 10:00 and don’t stop until closing time.
Anyway, enough about that. The concert was great, out in the open air (it didn’t rain); we were dancing and generally going crazy.
Afterwards Eoin was going to check out this other guy, Declan O’Rourke, who was supposed to be playing outside some pub. That sounded good, so Eoin, Alan, Barry, two friends of theirs and I made our way to the pub where he was supposed to play. Declan was amazing – what an incredible voice, and he writes the most beautiful lyrics:
Galileo fell in love, as a Galilean boy
And he wondered, “What in heavens...who invented such a joy?”
But the question got the better of his scientific mind
And to his blind and dying days he looked up high and often sighed and sometimes cried...
“Who puts the rainbow in the sky?
Who lights the stars at night?
Who dreamt up someone so divine?
Someone like you and made them mine?”
and with the melody those words are made a thousand times more beautiful. Plus there were only about 50 people at that gig, as opposed to the hundreds at the other one, so all in all I enjoyed it much more than the Ojos de Brujo, even though both were good.
After Declan’s mesmerising performance we danced the night away at the pub and finally caught the night bus home at about 02:00.
Right. Now skip forwards almost one week to last night (Friday). I was feeling lousy at work so thank christ I received a text from Alan who was having an impromptu shindig at his place. Being able to look forward to some fun times helped me get through the day, and by 17:00 I was so ready to relax with a couple of beers and a bunch of mates. (Side note: the downside of working with almost all Muslims is we never go for after work drinks on a Friday!).
Thankfully Alan’s place is only 10 minutes walk from my place (not that my directionally-challenged brain could remember how to get there, so I had to ring him and ask for directions, how embarrassing). When I got there the party was already in full swing, so I sat down with some French people and co-incidentally began talking to the only Italian in the bunch. Fascinating guy, an electrical engineer with a passion for abstract art. Pretty soon we were joined by Maria and Eric, a fun Polish couple. Maria invited me to go and visit her city in Poland with her and she’d show me around. We may even be taking a trip to Paris together (depending on my financial situation, which at the moment is quite dire). I can’t wait, as exploring a new city is always better if you have someone to be excited with. Maria also gets almost as excited about things as I do, which is quite fun, but we can get quite loud as you can imagine!
I had lots of fascinating conversations touching on just about any topic you can think of, drank some beers, ate a lot of potato chips, and danced to everything from the Beatles (yay) to 50s backbeat to blues to hip hop to rocking guitar tunes to psychadelic experimental crazy stuff (including a mad wicked version of the Beach Boys’ “Good Vibrations”). It started off as a raging party but by 03:00 or 04:00 we were wittled down to five or six people listening to the crazy psychadelic music and talking. It was such a great vibe and none of us wanted it to end, but finally at 05:00 we decided to call it quits and go to bed. Robbie (the Italian guy) did the gentlemanly thing and walked me home, although Dublin is pretty safe, and I’m sure I would have been okay on my own.
Today I had all these plans to hop on the Number 44 bus to Enniskerry and visit the beautiful Powerscourt Gardens, but as can be expected I got up late and lazed around listening to my new Declan O’Rourke CD (which I so cannot afford at the moment). It’s quite a nice day outside so I might go to the park later and write, and/or have a snooze. To all of you who have been urging me to, rest assured, I’ve finally started writing again. I always meant to, but I never got the motivation until last week at Alan’s place, I said that I had always wanted to be a writer, and Eoin said, “Well, just fucking do it”. So I’m going to just fucking do it.
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