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

kiki kool

I have always been as much a fan of Kirsten Dunst’s style as her acting, and this summer is no exception.























*sigh* Oh how I heart her.

I just wish she didn’t smoke.

Why

am I only learning of this product’s existence now?



And can I get it in Ireland?

Because apparently putting one drop of this onto an eyeliner brush can turn eyeshadows and glitter powder into liquid eyeliner.

That’s only the dream of my life!

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?

i believe

whatever doesn’t kill you simply makes you… stranger.



Amazing.

Not for one second was I bored.

Heath Ledger - best performance of his (short) career. After all the hype I was afraid it wouldn’t live up to my expectations. I think it may have even exceeded them.

“Do I really look like a guy with a plan? You know what I am? I’m a dog chasing cars. I wouldn’t know what to do if I caught it. You know, I just do things.”

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.

jump on to that table

While dancing my socks off last night and making up words to songs I didn’t know, I thought how much fun it would be to live life in a strobe light…



Well, not so much if you had epilepsy…

Click here for the rest

breeze drifting on by