Car home

It's the night after my mother took an overdose in her hotel room. She was taken to hospital and put on a drip. I'm sitting in the back of a cab home from work. The tall motorway lights pass amber bars over the cream pages of the book laid open on my lap. It's about a Pakistan general who died in a plane crash and the suggestion that mangoes may have caused it. In the car Roy Orbison is followed by Meatloaf and then The Beatles on the stereo. I can tell it's a cd as it keeps skipping. The driver sits with his left elbow resting on his knee. He continously runs his thumb over his nails looking for a sharp bit that he can pick at. His eyes dart around behind his horn-rimmed glasses and I notice a slight facial twitch. I can tell that the sports jacket he wears is too small for him as the sleeve stops a few inches short of the black leather wrist strap on his watch. My thoughts sigh.

Pic from http://autos.canada.com/greatcanadianroadtrip/index.html

Anti-Tesco

Tesco. I hate the place. This is big when you consider the only other thing I could use the word "hate" for is Manchester United. I don't hate easily. I won't shop in Tesco, I won't even visit it with others who want to shop there. I feel slightly ill at the thought of walking around those long aisles full of fake food. It is fake, have you ever actually stopped and tasted the stuff?

Really? Next time you are eating your Tesco's Finest lasagne or whatever they process these days, ignore the packaging with it's delectable cuisine photography and rich colours and concentrate on the actual product inside. Still yum yeah? If so, you've obviously been brought up on the stuff and never experienced a home-made, fresh lasagne made with care.

My hatred of Tesco has stretched to the appearance of the place. Summed up nicely by Ross Clark of The Spectator:

Suddenly I can’t stand that ghastly blue and red logo, which reminds me of the Co-op in the 1970s. Like the Daily Mail, I hate the way every tree for half a mile around any Tesco store is strewn with fragments of its plastic bags. I hate the smell of its in-store bakery. I can’t stand its speckled orange flooring, and the way all its stores now have to be cheap imitations of Norman Foster’s terminal at Stansted airport.

Link to article

I used to shop at Tesco all the time. It's the nearest supermarket to both my house, my workplace and at one point, my girlfriend's flat. It also seems to be the nearest one to everyone else, which just couldn't be true but it could be that way very soon. In fact I envisage Tesco homes soon. Apartments inside the retail space. After all you can already get a mortgage from them, take out life insurance and possibly Tesco funerals. You can already use points from your clubcard off your funeral. Even in sport, Everton Football Club have agreed a deal with Tesco to build their new stadium on the retail park of a new superstore.

And the clubcards. They try to persuade you that getting 20 cents off a packet of sausages is a good deal in exchange for details on all of your shopping habits which is then used by a company to make a profile of your lifestyle; how likely you are to respond to special offers, how loyal you are to particular brands and then build it into a profile where they can guess what you do for a living, the size of your family, how far you drive etc etc.

I'd rather buy my sausages off the butcher, thanks.

Image: FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Tatterdemalion. It sounds like a curse word but it isn't so I feel ok using it. Tatterdemalion! You know how it goes. Life is fine, sailing along, the expected tumults turn out to be slight (disappointing)hiccups and you are left with a sense of unfulfilled expectation. My dad is gone now and I'm not missing him much. I suppose the fact that he's met another guy out there to watch the football with makes me feel relieved that he's not going to be lonely. I did miss him watching the Champions League semi with me though. :(



In other news, I went to Paris without the aid of drugs. Which was unthinkable for me a few years ago. It's a pretty good achievement which I managed to do all on my own, without therapy. *pats self on back* Paris was really beautiful, not a patch on Rome though. We stayed in the Latin Quarter, in a quaint hotel around a flowery, enclosed garden. I discovered that Ernest Hemingway lived in the flat opposite the gate. Walking down to Notre Dame was surreal. It was nothing like I imagined. The Eiffel Tower was a let down. So was the Louvre. I just loved the atmosphere of the city, the content of my history books playing out in my imagination along the streets. Especially so on the bicycle tour... At one point, in the shimmering spring sun, we leaned on the handlebars and stood in the grounds of the Louvre admiring the architecture when a air-raid siren sounded off across the city. Nobody flinched. I as slightly concerned at the noise because I recognise an emergency siren when I hear one! Our guide informed me that it was a drill, every first Wednesday of the month. Odd moment.

You know when stuff happens and you know it's not a simple coincidence? You know it's not as random as it looks? That there's a reason for it? It's a sign, a clue to help you discover your path. Well, I've got one. And it's major. And I love it.

Home

The house is really shaping up nicely. I can’t believe this is what my mother wanted her whole life (I grew up listening to her talk about it) and she only gets it now, once my father moves out. She’s finally getting a real kitchen. Because my dad was the house-husband he put his indelible (messy) mark on the house when I was very young. Every room became a storage room for books, cds, videos, coats, shoes etc. The place was always frightfully messy and I would never in a million years invite a friend over. Even when myself and my sister would spend out mid-term cleaning the place from top to bottom, tidying things away, it would take only a single day for my dad to restore it to it’s former non-glory. I was a kid but it hurt to see how little respect he had for our home.

Today he is in Eastern Europe, living in a small cottage in the countryside that he bought with the separation money. Except he’s not. He returned after 2 weeks as the cottage was going to take longer than the predicted fortnight to renovate. He’s now been living on the couch in my mother’s flat for the past month. And guess how long it took for the flat to turn into a pigsty? A single weekend. The weekend my sister was away, I was dog-sitting and my mother on holiday abroad. When I came back to the flat I was shocked. I had forgotten this aspect of him. There were crumbs all over the kitchen counter and floor, floating in the puddles of water spilt from endless cups of tea; clunks of cups with dried teabags inside clustered along the sink; boxes of food torn open as though a starving bear had found himself in the pantry; shoes scattered under the coffee table; piles of coats over the back of the sofa and every other chair. Books and DVDs were stacked around the couch where he slept/lived. The TV was loudly chattering away while he was there, sunken into the sofa with his laptop on watching a DVD. The room is usually dark as he either hasn’t figured out how to raise the blinds or he has a phobia of sunlight.

Since he’s been back I’ve spent most of my time in the furniture-free house. It says a lot when I ‘d rather sit on the floor of an empty house ( with no food or cooking appliances) and spend the night in my old freezing cold bedroom which is full of misplaced furniture from the rest of the house than stay in the flat with my mother, father and sister.

Lunch and Juno was rubbish

Went for our well overdue Christmas lunch yesterday (all 3 of us!). The restaurant was fabulous, the proprieter was exceptionally amiable (possibly due to the celeb in our mists) and the food was divine. It was a fruitful lunch with lots of ideas being bandied about, lots of laughter and gossip. I think we should do it more often!

Went to see Juno last night. I had been looking forward to it for about two months. Well…it was absolutely excruciating to watch. (yes, that's right, I didn't like Juno)The dialogue came “rat-a-tat-tat” from some obnoxious teenager with a surplus of Gilmore genes. Who on earth talks like that? Painful. I was expecting a heart-warming indie movie. There was nothing heart-warming about Juno. I’m still unsure if the reel wasn’t switched in the cinema and I saw Juno: The Parody. The real, quirky, funny, loveable Juno that I had imagined is out there, waiting for me to see it.

I can’t bring myself to post a picture from the movie so you are going to have to do with some Chinese food.

(image from freefoto.com)

Changing Rooms

I've just eaten biscuits today. Biscuits and a carton of orange juice. The cat has more food in the presses than I do. (fridge is broken)

I'm supposed to be clearing out the rooms in the house but I hadn't the energy for that. Hadn't even got the energy to turn the pages in the Sunday Times. I took an armful of dvds from one room the next and then stacked the large coffee table books onto the shelf behind the fernsehen (tv). (It hasn't been working for the last 3 days, how am I going to watch the football?) I'll have to do it all tomorrow evening when I get home from work which will be around 7pm. I'm going to be too tired.


Image from: http://www.ew.com/ew/article/0,,1177092,00.html

Damn and blast it. Blogs have got to be one of the most irritating online activities ever. I fall in love with posting and out again in a blink of a mosquito eyelid.

Primary school memories

Hanging your coats on a hook with your name on it.
Swinging on your chair.
Re-arranging your basket during all the boring subjects.
Knocking people's baskets over by 'accident'.
Standing on your chair, holding your Kit-Kat above your head while yelling, ' Annnnybodddy wannna swwwwaaaaaa-oooopppp?'
Knocking each other over at toy time to get the most popular toy, (stickle bricks).
Going to the staff-room to pick up the attendance notebook and bring it to the teacher.
Saying 'an-cha' when answering after your name (I later discovered this to be 'anseo'.)
Going on nature walks in the school grounds.
Going to the farm on your school tour.
Giving the driver of the coach a Take That mixtape to play so everyone can sing along.
Sharpening your pencil to a dangerous point and then sticking into the back of your schoolmate's hand to show them how sharp it is.
Leaking cartridge pens.
Pencils shavings on the floor.
Rubber bits on your copy.
Trying to rub out biro with the grey end of a rubber and ending up with a big hole in the page.
Drawing margins in red pen and ruler.
Looking to see if you got a star for your homework and then showing it to the entire row.
Acting in small plays that you rehearsed out in the corridor.
Nativity plays.
Going to mass on holy days.
Assembly in the PE hall each morning.
Singing 'Let Us Build the City of God' in assembly.
Visiting the convent to recieve communion for the first time by the nuns.
Having huge fights with your best friend and then making up with them after break.
Saying our prayers before lunch and throughout the day.
Singing songs in religion class.
Ignoring the boys in the playground.
Playing catch, hide and seek, ring a ring a rosey, Jackie Bluebells,Red Rover, Doctor Doctor'.
Falling in the yard every day and cutting your knee.
Freezing when the bell rang for end of playtime.
Avoiding the two teachers on yard duty.
Swapping pound shop stickers by the roll.
Fancy paper.
Hockey.
Basketball.
Sticky buns before hometime.

I'm going back to the US for Christmas again.

Well, Pink was fabulous as usual. So hot. We managed to get into the second row of the pit so I had a great view. It was weird seeing her so close up.

I've started working as a BA now on friday's which is cool. I'm still quite nervous about it but the show is always good fun to work on. The presenter always makes me laugh.

Going to to college tonight. *sighs*
It's starting to bore me now. I could do without having the attention span of a gnat.

P!nk is playing in Dublin tomorrow night. *salivates*

H left today. She's gone for a whole 2 years. I hope she remembers me when she gets back!

I've just finished work (it's 11pm) and decided to make another entry in my blog while waiting for the taxi to pick me up. Hurricane Gordon is thrashing around outside with winds up to 120 mph. My mam's flat has lost power so I will be reading Dean Koontz by candlelight. Ooh scary! I had a 3 hour break after Drivetime so I decided to go for a meal with * in a very posh Chinese restaurant. The food is possibly the tastiest food I have ever tasted. I'm not a fan of hot things but found myself devouring the chillis on my starter. My mouth is salivatiing at the thought!
I then walked back to work on my own in the dark. Silly me decided to take the short cut throught the trees and didn't I scare the shit out of myself imagining all sorts of psychopaths chasing me in the shadows!

I've been carrying two magazines and three books around with me in my bag every day. This was with the intention of reading them at work. However, work is so full of distractions that you just can't concentrate. Yet, I still carry the books everywhere with me.

Last night in bed, for some forgotten (or never known) reason, I thought of the name 'Sadsack'. Who was Sadsack? Then in a moment of blinding genius it all came back to me. Back to Front, Claude... Raggy Dolls!

I've been feeling really bored lately. I don't know why but I have been. I just can't seem to think of anything to do with myself after work. I really don't like tv and my eyes get sore from reading. Plus I dont want to be sitting in one place reading all the time. The alternative is the pub. And that's not exactly my favourite place in the world.

During my extensive lunch hours I visited the Rockies, the Amazon and North Korea. Man, I love google earth.

Was at the Ireland Chile game at Lansdowne yesterday. Boring game. My mate Damo was playing. He did well but the team looked tired. Got a look at Speedy Gonzalez, reminded me of Cristiano Ronaldo at first but he seems to have more to his game than just step-overs.

It's been awhile.

I've been very busy working lately I haven't had a chance to update this. So obviously now I have a fantastic job with great hours and great pay. My first paycheck (from all that leaflet-ing) enabled me to go on a break in Brussels. It was great fun and the flying wasn't that bad at all.

Pink

Nice to see that even though Pink is married, she still has her priorities straight! (no pun intended)

I feel loads better after getting all that crap off my chest last night.It's sunny now. Blizzard is gone. They are cutting down a tree outside and it hurts my very core at the thought of it. They are putting in dropped kerbs and taking away the grass. Turning into a council estate we are.

Eto'old You So

I didn't ask to be conceived in a loveless embrace....

1. Do you have good hand-eye coordination?
I can draw really well if I'm copying from a photo or picture so that must mean yes.

2. Have you ever held a gun?
No.

3. What do you think of toy guns?
I used to have some. I liked them.

4. When is the last time you asked for forgiveness?
Oh, probably to mands. I'm always upsetting her.

5. Your favorite Aerosmith song:
Hole In My Soul from Nine Lives album.

Feeling tired. Don't like handing out leaflets. Boring.
Liverpool and Arsenal on tonight. Good job we had Valentine's yesterday instead.
Am depressed, know not why.

I think Brenda Fricker has given me the flu. That is all.

My dad cant cope without someone to irritate him. He needs to have somebody "out to get him". There's always people who do things just "to annoy him". These people are then umbrella-d under a string of expletives. And I have to listen to this. Day in, day out. And I cant complain because then room is made for me under the same umbrella.

I don't feel great today. I feel quite down and lethargic. I just want to get into bed with someone and read Peanuts.

Well Ronan shall not be reuniting with Boyzone. *rolls eyes*

Im feeling creative at the moment. But I feel too tired to do anything. Assignments depress me just looking at them. So do jobs. I think I'd like to hibernate....

Liverpool on telly tomorrow, something to look forward to.

Ronan has agreed to join Boyzone on a reunion tour. I'm smiling. Reminds me of when I was 12 with my Ronan posters and Boyzone magazines. Nostalgia is good for me. I think. But then I hear Ali got married. Well, that put me a on a little downer. Not like I could ever have had her or anything.

Anyway, I'm home and there's no elecrtricity in the top half of the house. So no heat or computer or lights or hot showers. Have to wear my hat and fingerless gloves around the house. Also been sleeping on the sofa for the past 3 days. I'm like a hobo going around.

Mam and dad are getting on so much better lately. They actually laugh and joke with each other. That feels quite strange I must admit.

Went to see the Mayflower on Tuesday but it was docked for the season. Saw Plymouth Rock though, point where the pilgrims landed in America in 1620.