i keep you guessing, watch while you come undone

How perfect is this coat by Paul & Joe Sister?



Yum…

Meanwhile I am more than in love with A.P.C’s Fall 09 collection and the lookbook for Play by C. Ronson at Urban Outfitters.

While the latter isn’t very suitable for our damp and dreary weather, add a cardigan or chunky scarf here, some tights there and you’re sorted.











I really really REALLY want these rock chick-like jeans from Topshop… I’ve tried them on and they’re skin tight ankle grazers.



I honestly can’t remember the last time I wore jeans on a night out, but I guarantee I’ll be wearing these the next time I tear up a dancefloor down south. Along with an oversized ripped t-shirt, crazy hair and dark eye makeup.

Or is that too cliché?

Meh!

My obsession with Love Song has now extended to EVERYTHING by Sara Bareilles. It’s not often that I take so well to such a mellow sound.

Gravity and Responsible, both from her debut album Careful Confessions, have been the soundtrack to my day. I’ll be hearing them in my sleep.

Dear American Apparel
Who in their right mind would honestly go to school like this?



Seriously, like!

unusually hard to hold on to

Have you ever heard a song like a million times before you actually LISTEN to it and realise “Oh wow! I love this!”

For me it’s Sara Bareilles’ Love Song.

I didn’t even know it was on my iPod so can’t remember if I downloaded it or it was sent to me.

I love it though. It’s like she’s in my head.

***

It never fails to amuse me when people I’ve never/rarely spoken to know my name.

I’m always in shock ‘cos most of the time I just seem to blend into the wallpaper.

Or when someone says “I’ve read your stuff in the paper”.

It’s cool. Makes me feel all glowy. And giddy.

***

Sometimes I wish I didn’t have an ATM card. Especially when I’m out and decide that yes, I do need to take out all that money and spend every cent of it.

Back in the day when I first started going out I brought a set amount of money with me and if I spent it that was my own tough shit.

Oh it was a system and it worked…

***

It makes me sad that I’m finished college. It’s going to be weird not living the student life anymore.

I’ve already sworn to attend all the parties but it’s the impromptu drinking sessions, chats ’til dawn and sleeps ’til noon that I’ll miss most.

Nana just doesn’t cut it.

***

I hate Nokia phones.

I used to be one of those girls that Des Bishop mocked but then I desperately wanted a pink Motorola.

I foolishly forgot my phone charger this weekend and had to borrow my 13 year old brother’s Nokia when I was going out.

Isn’t drunk frustration the worst kind?

And after a day spent hungover on the couch, I’ve decided that maybe I should stay away from Bulmers. Indefinitely.

Part of the fun of being at home is my mom’s cooking so when I can’t keep any of it down, it kinda ruins it…

d’ya want to go to the seaside?

I just found this photo!


Ballybunion beach, Aug ‘91, almost four years old.

she drink coffee, she drink tea

Last night I watched Grey’s Anatomy for the first time in god knows how long.



Oh how I’ve missed it.

I’m ridiculously behind and haven’t a clue what’s going on but I found some comfort in the fact that it can still make me think.

For instance last night had me questioning whether or not I’d have surgery if I found out I had a brain tumour.

Morbid stuff indeed.

It also has a calming effect on me. Last night I was tearing my hair out over not having broadband and having to pitch at least three business features to my editor by today. Tears were pouring, helped along by the fact that no one in my family understands the pressure I’m under (or that journalism is an actual career choice):

“Ah would ya look at Lyndsay there with her papers… Bless!”

And then Grey’s Anatomy started and made it all better.

ps - the spiders are gone but now I’m dreaming of living in a shower with three of my guy friends

promise me you’ll leave the light on

A friend of mine recently broke up with her boyfriend of three years. She says she’s lost without him.

Yesterday I announced I was lost without broadband. That kind of sums me up.

I moved house early on Saturday morning (thankfully before the rain came) and broadband doesn’t arrive ’til next Thursday. I feel like I’ve lost a limb.

Today I hauled my Macbook down into Bray to try and pick up wireless in the town’s supposed “hotspots” but to no avail.

As I sat in Maccy D’s with a grande Americano, my laptop in front of me and a group of local kids beside me debating over who was gonna ask if they could check their Bebo, I nearly cried when my Airport refused to pick up any sort of a public signal.

Now I’m in an internet cafe with my iPod blaring, trying to drown out the sounds of foreigners on Skype.

Yesterday I saw Angus, Thongs & Perfect Snogging for the second time. I still love it. And I still love him.

ps - I’ve been dreaming of spiders a lot lately. According to dreammoods.com, this means To see a spider in your dream, indicates that you are feeling like an outsider in some situation. Or that you may want to keep your distance and stay away from an alluring and tempting situation. The spider is also symbolic of feminine power. Alternatively, a spider may refer to a powerful force protecting you against your self-destructive behavior. If you kill a spider, it symbolizes misfortune and general bad luck.

To see a spider spinning a web in your dream, signifies that you will be rewarded for your hard work. You will soon find yourself promoted in your job or recognized for your achievement in a difficult task. Spiders are a symbol of creativity due to the intricate webs they spin. On a negative note, spiders may indicate a feeling of being entangled or trapped in a sticky or clingy relationship. It represents some ensnaring and controlling force. You may feel that someone or some situation is sucking the life right out of you.

To see a spider climbing up a wall in your dream, denotes that your desires will be soon be realized.

To dream that you are bitten by a spider, represents a conflict with your mother or some dominant female figure in your life. The dream may be a metaphor for a devouring mother or the feminine power to possess and entrap. Perhaps you are feeling trapped by some relationship.

Grand.

i hate packing

That is a blank wall. It used to be covered in pictures of me and my friends.



That is a nifty (not) little pile of stuff that has yet to be packed.



That is a load of crap that’s going home and to the charity shop.



That is my sorry excuse for a wardrobe sans le crap.

§Packing has taken up the majority of my day.

§A mountain of dust has made its way up my nose and I can’t stop sneezing.

§A wasp flew in the window causing lots of jumping up and down and screaming and hiding in the kitchen before it flew back out again.

That’s the dress I bought for my 21st birthday party and my Graduation Ball. (It’s not actually that teeny…)

Speaking of my 21st, I have a wee bit of a dilemma. A supposed friend of mine (who’s birthday was, oooh, back in MAY) has decided that she too is having her party on the same night as mine.

Who does that?

And how exactly do I let her know how much I hate her while still remaining the bigger person?

And another thing… how do I tell my French housemate that he smells? And that’s the reason that I keep spraying vanilla air freshener everywhere?

Thank god for MTV and Living. It’s keeping me sane… Whatever would I do without







thank you

my bags are packed… almost

I am in the middle of packing up my life (into three piles) and moving to the dark side.

Due to, let’s just say, some financial issues, I am doing something that I swore I would never do.

I am moving in with my nana. Who lives in Bray.

It’s not ideal but it’s only short term and I’ll be able to save some money.

(Considering the essay I wrote for my parents three years ago on Why I Do Not Want To/Cannot Live With Nana Betty, it’s a bit of a downer all the same… oh well, I still managed to survive three years living on my own)

Yesterday my best friend and roommate moved home (we’re kind of in the same predicament) so last night saw me watching Elizabethtown and moping over the fact that the home we’ve tried so hard to build is no more.

Anyway when I eventually went to bed (after checking that all the doors were double locked) I found comfort in the September issue of Vogue. Especially in the “Moving On” feature by Daisy Garnett.

It was exactly what I needed.

Y’see Daisy is just like me (only I’m not even close to being in my mid-30s and I’m not moving in with my boyfriend).

But she used to be very much single.

Although I often longed to make a life with someone, I had no interest in having a boyfriend per se. “I’ve got a full life and I don’t have enough time to read the books on my bedside table, so a guy has quite a lot to compete with,” I used to say about how I weighed up going out on a date with someone - as if I was the prize… The reason I was single for so long was that I hadn’t met anyone I wanted to share my life with enough. For all that I moaned, on some level I wasn’t prepared to be disrupted for anyone.

Oh snap!

The reason I am dividing my life into three piles is that I can’t bring everything to my nana’s. One pile is being sent home to Kerry for storage and another is heading for the bin.

Daisy no longer lives with all her stuff either. Because she’s living in her boyfriend’s flat while the house they bought together is being renovated.

Again, kind of like me.

I mean, the positives far outweigh the negatives*. It’ll be well worth it in the long run…

*repeat at least three times a day or as required

And so

it seems I’m off to work for another Sunday newspaper.



Yes, that’s right Alexa.

you could have been anyone at all

Today I watched one of my all time favourite movies - You’ve Got Mail.

Don’t laugh.

I love it.

And everytime I watch it, it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside and, for a blissful few minutes after it ends, I believe that there’s someone perfect out there for everyone.

Then I wake up.

Not that I don’t truly believe that. I do. I’m just afraid that I’ll never find that person. I haven’t even come close yet.

And, as my mother pointed out last week, it doesn’t matter where or when I meet this person because if they don’t fit into my plan exactly where they’re supposed to, then I don’t want them. They’ve messed it all up and it’s not meant to be.

No one’s ruining my fairy tale. There will be a happy ending. But only where I want it to be.

THE END

But what I LOVE about You’ve Got Mail is Meg Ryan’s bookshop.

Part of me wants to open up a children’s bookshop just like it. And maybe one day I will. Once I’ve done everything else I want to of course.













Do you remember when you were a kid and could snuggle up with a good book? Everything around you disappeared. Nothing mattered but that book, those words. Hours could pass and you wouldn’t notice. And every time you finished one, you were disappointed because it was the best book you’d ever read and you never wanted it to end.

And the BEST best books were the ones you could read over and over, yet still get that feeling.



Kids don’t read enough these days… or maybe I read too much.

Anyways, I love that “Anyone At All” by Carole King plays over the credits at the end of You’ve Got Mail.

Funny how I feel more myself with you
Than anybody else that I ever knew
I hear it in your voice, see it in your face
You’ve become the memory I can’t erase

You could have been anyone at all
A stranger falling out of blue
I’m so glad it was you

Wasn’t in the plan not that I could see
Suddenly a miracle came to me
Safe within your arms I can say what’s true
Nothing in the world I would keep from you

You could have been anyone at all
An old friend calling out of blue
I’m so glad it was you

Words can hurt you if you let them
People say them and forget them
Words can promise words can lie
But your words make me feel like I can fly

You could have been anyone at all
And let that catches me when I fall
I’m so glad it was you

Ain’t that sweet?

your light is ultraviolet

We don’t get along, airport security and I.

Not now.

Not for a long time.

With all the domestic and international flights I take, I consider myself to be a pretty seasoned traveller (and funnily enough my carbon footprint is only 4.22).

I’m a pro when it comes to packing everything I need for four days away from home into my hand luggage.

So why - when I follow all the rules, don’t ever carry liquids of over 100ml, place everything in the tray provided, remove my laptop from my bag AND its case, remove my shoes and don’t ever EVER set any alarms off when I pass through - WHY do security insist on stopping me and saying “Excuse me madam, do you mind if I give you a quick handsearch?”

And it’s never just a quick pat-pat. Oh no. It’s full on feeling up that leaves me feeling violated and dirty afterwards.

Yuck!


Go see this film! While it was our second choice (The Dark Knight was sold out) I’m glad we saw it.
It’s one of the best girlie feel good flicks I’ve seen in a LONG time.
AND Aaron Johnson (who plays Sex God Robbie) is hot.


Yum.

And the soundtrack is awesome too.

Slightly different to that books (in that Wet Lindsay is suddenly Slaggy Lindsay) but still worth seeing. One second you’ll be lauging, then going “Aaawwww!!”, then sympathising… although on what planet do girls squeeze each other’s spots? Gross.