Resolutions

Meet a new girl. Move on from the old one, particularly her bosoms, as fantastic as they were.

Smarten up at the job. Read up, start making a more active contribution to everything, and know your shizzle.

Get a pair of runners, take up some kind of walking/running. Get more muscles than just your right arm.

Save a regular amount of money every month. Work out a budget that includes rent, and try to cut back expenditure on alcohol. It's horrendous really, how much I spend on drink. Of my non-capital recreational outgoings... it's probably 60-70%. Fark like.

Mostly, stop feeling sorry for yourself bitch. Take over as section leader of the cubs, get into the job, and get busy. Happiness comes later!

Man that's depressing.

The ex

It's been a year. Move on.

Mountains

I was going for a stroll today, organised by a friend. I brought a friend too, told her about the stroll, said there might be a few kids along. She dutifully dressed as appropriate.

 

Unfortunately, no kids showed up, just four adults and we walked about 21km along the Wicklow Way, through mud and across frozen puddles, and for far too long along the road, but we were short on options for getting home before dark. My apologies N, for not warning you sufficiently. :)

Refresh

Been following the election for the past three hours. True multimedia experience - RTE Radio1 has been on, now switched to NPR, streaming Sky News online, watching maps from various services:

RTE

Sky

CBS

I'm hoping within the next hour or two I'll be able to go to bed, content in the knowledge that no member of the Republican party will be running the most powerful country in the world. God bless America.

Best Man Fail

Maturity and/or Motivation

I caught sight of myself in a mirror while walking up the stairs the other day. It evoked a sudden introverted inspection. I'm essentially the same person as I was when I was 15. Same house, same room. Still eat dinner as prepared by my mother. I work a part-time job in a shop. I cycle everywhere, or get the bus. I have no significant other, and I still find it difficult to approach people with an eye toward that sort of thing. Really I just stack up mountains of friends, for which I'm grateful of course, but every now and then I wish I had someone who was more than a friend. My thoughts return constantly to two different women, in two different countries, neither of which are the one in which I'm currently residing. One has too many man troubles already, and the other is in a similar situation, only I'm the cause of her troubles.

The only differences between me and my teen self lie in my accomplishments. I've completed my education, travelled a fair bit, and met countless unique and wonderful people. Sadly, that doesn't look so hot on a CV.

MGMT - Kids

Giruffes

My ex-girlfriend and I used to have a thing about giraffes. They were one of several motifs in our relationship - what noise they made, their long, slender necks, the purpose of the zogabongs...

 

The end result is that every time I see a giraffe, I am reminded of her. Up to recently, I had several little model giraffes sitting on my bookshelf that I had never quite gotten around to getting rid of. But after an encounter with her a couple of weeks ago left me with a bitter taste in my mouth, I decided I had to chuck them.

One was a photograph holder, which I don't use, but still plan to, so he's been relocated to my photo stash. One was a gift from my mother, and has been relegated to storage. Another was a quite beautiful wood carving, and I decided it would be a crime to throw it away, so it was placed in storage as well. Next to the parcel containing various souvenirs of this girl. I'm very much a hoarder - of information, of objects, of memories. So understand my reluctance and my pain, at then disposing of two perfectly innocent giraffes in my rubbish bin.

They're gone now, like her, and I'm finding myself able to live with that. Unexpectedly.

Empty Walks

 

Every now and then I go for a ramble. Or often a cycle. Just go, myself and my camera, trying to find... what? Some peace? Solace? Comfort?

The mountains on a weekday are almost always deserted, empty. Nothing but the sound of the wind, the glare of the sun or the patter of the rain, and the occasional sheep disturbs one's reverie.

Looking back, I went on those walks to get away from it all, but in that isolation all you have is what's inside your head, and it tends to dwell on what you're trying to get away from.

Next time, I'm bringing my whiskey flask.

You mean you want to tax… “thingy”?

Monty Python - I bet they never knew they were predicting the future.

An Avowed Cyclist

"He likes the waves of self-righteousness that course down his spine as he pedals through clogged streets on his bike" - Killian Doyle. It's exactly how I feel when I cycle!

Also, I got stung by a bee in the head earlier. I asked at the front desk for some sting/burn cream, and the guy said "The country as big as it is, and he had to hit you in the head!" Wonderful!

The past two years...

I've lost my ability to think analytically. I've lost a portion of my eyesight, making me ever further myopic. My memory and concentration have both degraded significantly. I lost too much money through gambling. I managed to sustain a medium-distance relationship over ten months, then it fell apart when we lived in the same city again. I felt more isolated and alone than I ever have before in my life. I've suffered from depression and anxiety, seen a counsellor, taken a course of Xanax. I kissed a friend that I shouldn't have, and didn't kiss one that I should. I drank my way through half of February and most of March. I had to spend one weekend minding thirty children by myself. I had root canal treatment. I realised too many of my friends are self-centred people.

I discovered who my real friends are. I achieved a Masters qualification (touch wood). I watched and listened to Leonard Cohen play two magical concerts. I didn't drink for just about all of April. I've been to Cork, Cavan, Sligo, Wexford, Louth, Galway, Meath, Inis Mor, Donegal, Clare. I met some amazing people, and befriended many. I travelled around Wales and Cornwall, visited London and Edinburgh several times. I've had two friends get engaged, and two get married. I heard Regina Spektor, Iron and Wine, and Tom McRae all make wonderful music. I holidayed in northern Spain and southern Germany. I cycled across the country, twice. I spent six months getting top-level experience in an ISP. I heard Henry Rollins rant and preach, up close. Thirty kids made my life a richer, more joyful experience. My family are all in good health, and my friends are the greatest people on this planet.

And I sit back and wonder, how much of this could I have done differently? How much would I really want to?

Props to Weng Weng

This is what 2.0 means

From indexed.

My hands

 

They're HUGE!!

Where I sit

 

Between stints in the library, I rest my back against a bench beside the lake. I read a book, and sip on a latte, or gulp a cup of tea. It's peaceful at the end me the summer, with nobody but the fulltime staff and the repeaters around.

tumblr

I must get myself one of these actually. But for now, it's yet another tool with which to stalk Graham Linehan online.

Graham's tumblr

If you haven't already, check out his blog at "Why, That's Delightful!"

Can't Sleep

I've always had trouble sleeping, ever since I was young. Well, not so much trouble as no desire. Fond memories of reading under the covers with a torch. I even recall setting up an old black and white television, I think Féile was being broadcast at the time. My mother would despair at my nocturnal behaviour, feeding me warm milk, giving me boring books to read, but it never really worked. All through my teens, into my college years - then it became an advantage, being able to stay awake 'til all hours, studying and coding. Some nights I never left the lab.

But now... now as I try to adjust to a 9-5 lifestyle, it's hampering me. I want to sleep, I need to sleep, but my brain has never learned how to shut down at night. It keeps ticking over, making lists, regurgitating old faces, running through the day. Activity that once kept my mind sharp, but now just tires me. I remember days when I could keep reams of information in my head, when I was working on an essay and I could let my subconscious sieve through all the material, and my conscious would just write it. Now it's straight from the reference to my page. I paraphrase, hoping to disguise it, hide my lack of originality. Occasional bursts of inspiration flow out of me, compensating.

Two weeks. In two weeks I won't have to worry about not sleeping anymore. I can do all my sleeping in the day time. Just wait two weeks brain, and you can run all night. But for now, I need a stand by mode.