Sunday, January 31, 2010

see feelingly.

I'm not the one holding you hostage,
Squeezed in between my lips.

Maybe you don’t think so but this is just about the worst situation I’ve gotten myself into lately. All those other incidents probably hurt all those other people. But this will hurt me. And I sort of forgot that that could happen, you know? And suddenly I feel so inadequate. I’m a joke. I’m not good-looking. Or, if I am, only in the kind of way where I get kissed and the end. I’m not beautiful in the way that I would like to be. In a breathtaking way. And I don’t mean that I’d change specific things about me. Maybe I’d just change how people perceive me.

I’m too loud and loutish. And you were laughing at me, rather than with me, like I was there and talking just to entertain you. And I keep feeling like that. Like I’m just filling a space. There’s no depth or meaning. No, there is. I just can’t show it properly. I always seem so phenomenally ditzy. Maybe I actually am that person though. Maybe my brain hasn’t caught up yet and it hasn’t realised that the person I am is actually the actual me. And that gap just kills me.

Maybe I could have some perfect thing. Maybe. If I didn’t think so much and mentally criticise me and you and everything. But I don’t know. Reading Twilight and witnessing people who are in love is beautiful. But I can’t help feeling slightly jealous. And I always always always want what I can’t have. Always. Having said that, if a particular person showed up on my doorstep right now, I’d still want him. I do want you. And you have this joking way of suggesting that you feel the same. But of course it’s just a joke.

Pick Two
I assume this chart is referring to potential boys. Ya know what’s funny? I’d never ever pick ‘emotionally stable’. Ever. It’s much too boring. It is right though, you definitely can’t have all three. Most of the boys I’ve had anything to do with have not been emotionally stable. And while it makes for adventurous late night conversations and the thrill of sneaking out of the house and that, things don’t normally work out. Ends badly. Usually in tears. Actually, always in tears. And some form of wandering around in the middle of the night having spiteful arguments. And the word ‘love’ is tossed around so casually. By me especially. I ought to avoid emotionally unstable boys. I ought to. But I won’t, will I? There’s something horribly endearing about being fucked up.

I want to fall in love, please.

so long, january.

Curry in my shoes.
Unexplained stains on my clothes.
Dog hairs everywhere.
Every single hair slide I own – gone.
Lots of sleep.
’I love you, Dog’.
Wait, they don’t love you like I love you.
Getting down on one knee.
Feeding F cider like a baby. <3
Every muscle in my body: ‘Emma, why?’
I sort of missed being hungover.
I definitely missed being drunk.

This is bad though and I just can’t stop thinking and it’s been a while since bad things have happened and I’ve actually really thought about them. Can’t-get-it-out-of-my-head kind of thinking. This is all wrong and a mistake and I’m confused. And my dreams are becoming more and more bizarre lately. I hope they’re not prophetic. And not even for my sake, but for yours.

I want that special thing again. And I want it to be real and not forced or pretended. By anyone. And I think I know what I want – or who I want – but it’s futile. Oh dear.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

A Much Nicer Weekend.

Cease and Desist
Eiffel Tower [2]
Ha Ha
Hello Kidney

This was a much nicer weekend than last one’s and well deserved, if a lot less productive. I did all urgent homework, fair play to me, but that’s about the extent of it. But I’m indulging because I was in school every day last week and that is a huge deal for me. Ask anyone. My mother nearly wept with pride, God bless ‘er. I plan to be equally as committed this week, maybe even pass my Leaving Cert.

It’s Limerick. It has to be. You always read those wonderful quotes and stuff and you’re brainwashed into thinking that at the end of the day, it’s your life and you’re supposed to do what you want with it, regardless of other people’s opinions or objections. It has to be Limerick. I want Limerick. I don’t want to be some high-flying world famous journalist (only in my dreams, bbz), I just want to do a bit of writin’ and make a few bob. And I don’t care if all the ‘contacts’ are in Dublin, I’m going to Limerick and I’m going to work in a local paper or radio station and that would be perfect. Thank you.

So I had a nice little dress up thing with myself on Saturday, after a lengthy shower and that. So sick of having frizzy, curly and grown-out skunk hair and having no make-up on and wearing that dowdy old green jumper all week long and not wearing a skirt (like, a nice skirt) in about two weeks. Eww. Nevermind the workload, I think the lack of fashion in my life because of this Leaving Cert will kill me. But I felt nice Saturday and that was nice.

I was utterly restless though and hanging for a pint. But to no avail. A fiver used to go a long way. Not anymore. (Totes getting twisted at that gig though, if everything goes to plan. Bloody aggressive music though. Oh, hold me. It shall be an adventure.)

Aisling was over and that was lovely. I do adore my Aisling. And then she went off to enact vengeance on people who are foolish and the like.

Hazel came in and stayed over. S’great. Watched Finding Nemo and, I’m not jokin’, the laughin’! Watched The Hangover as well. Again. But shur didn’t I only conk out and leave poor Hazzle ina haonar. Some larf though. I love my Hazzle. :’)

Hmm. I think that’s about the extent of what’s going on at present. In bed now getting ready to watch American Pie. Yessss. Love being clean and in a clean bed of a Sunday night. I reckon tonight should be a good sleep.

Credit’s gone. Damn poverty means I won’t have it again any time soon. Srsly need a job. If ya hear of anythin’, give us a shout, yeah?

Yeah, I don’t really do smiling, tbqh. More often than not, it’s ducklips and the like.


The thing is, I’m not joking. I’m sort of serious. And that’s a bit terrifying. And it’s been a while since I’ve wanted someone who didn’t want me. Strange. But, see, I have this other option. One that could potentially be something close to perfect. Maybe. But there will probably always be this little niggle at the back of my mind if I don’t do something about that unlikelihood. You. But what to say and how to say it?

Only for you, only for you
What else am I to do about it?
Who heard of anything for free?
Who gives away to not receive?
That would be mean.
Are you listening?
Are you watching closely?
Lovely, lovely and overblown love song
Nothing and no one could ever give more
With a few minors chords.
Only for you, only for you
Don’t want to be demure about it
But what to say and how to say it?
Who knows, who knows?
Here I go…
Are you listening?
Are you watching closely?
Lovely, lovely and overblown love song
Nothing and no one could ever give more
With a few minor chords.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Better Mood, Somehow.

 A few words.
Brother’s helping with the college thing. Mother’s still being a negative little bitch.
Weather’s crap, but in a nice way.
I have to do that contextualisation question that I didn’t do last night out of pure misery.
I also have to do an art essay. But I probably won’t do it.
Also, German reading comprehension.
And Irish oral questions. Módh Coinníollach? I don’t think so, luv.
Shower in a bit. I may even straighten my hair. No, that’s a lie, I won’t. I’ll get tired and I’ll get into my jammies and deal with frizzy hair in the morning and I won’t care one bit. All this lying to myself… Can’t be healthy.
Should paint my nails. Yellow this week, kids.
'Jesus, if I wanted to bring a person on a date, I’d rob, beg or borrow to get the money.’  That’s all very well but this is the year 2010 and no one goes on ‘dates’ to the ‘pictures’ anymore. And girls pay their own way, bbz. Sad life, innit.
Need to ring Limerick tomorrow. Eww.
Actually did PE today. And it was actually bearable. I was perspiring profusely, like (sexy, yeah?), but it was alright.
Looking forward to the session in Limerick. Should be a larf. Provided I get there. Please start prayin’, lads.
All of this was supposed to be cheery-uppy but I fail at cheery-uppy, clearly. Damn. Going for a shower and bedddddd. That is ittttttttt.
Promise to have a decent blog post sometime soon.
Theeeeeeee end.
Things are looking up, oh finally!
I thought I'd never see the day when you smile at me.
We always pull through
oh when we try,
I'm always wrong but
you're never right.
You're never right!

Honestly, can you believe we crossed the world while it's asleep?
I'd never trade it in, ‘cause I've always wanted this!
It's not a dream anymore! Ohhh..
It's not a dream anymore!
It’s worth fighting for.

Could have given up so easily
I was a few cheap shots away from the end of me
Taken for granted,
most everything
that I would have died for
Just yesterday,
Just yesterday.

Honestly, can you believe we crossed the world while it's asleep?
I'd never trade it in, ‘cause I've always wanted this!
It's not a dream anymore! Ohhh..
It's not a dream anymore!
It’s worth fighting for.

God knows the world
doesn’t need another band,
(whoo-oa, whooo-oa!)

But what a waste it would’ve been!
(whoo-oa, whooo-oa!)

I can't believe we almost hung it up!
(whoo-oa, whooo-oa!)

We're just getting started (whoo-oa, whooo-oa!)
Honestly, can you believe we crossed the world while it's asleep?
I'd never trade it in, ‘cause I've always wanted this!
It's not a dream anymore! No, no
It's not a dream anymore! no, no
It’s worth fighting for.

Monday, January 18, 2010

Monday Blues/ Anger.

A blog post to express my utter disgust and contempt for the world. Bad day, this. Today I had my first moment of feeling genuinely terrified about the Leaving and college and stuff. Maybe it is possible for me to scrape 405 points and for the points in UL to remain static and for me to actually manage to get my number one on the CAO. And maybe it’s possible for me to get through this whole bastard of a frustrating and depressing process of online application without choosing nine other courses that I really do not want to do. Awh, Limerick, please be a good girl and don’t start messing with a good thing, bbz. We need each other, Limerick, me and you. We should be together. Ughhhh.

Poverty is a bit of a pain, isn’t it? I’ll be one seriously lucky bunny if I manage to get accommodation in Lovely Luimneach at all. And Mother Dearest couldn’t give a damn. She genuinely doesn’t get why I can’t/ won’t go to WIT. Ehh, might be something to do with the fact that there’s not a single course there that I’m even faintly interested in. No? Eff off, Angie.

I spent the entire weekend doing homework and Monday evening, I can’t do a thing. It’s quarter past eight and I swear all I’m going to do is that contextualisation question and go to bed. The sooner this day is over. And ‘contextualisation’ should not even be a word. It offends my ears. 

Also, that blasted medication has decided to stop working, for no reason at all. Bloody infuriating. (D’ya geddit?)

Got school hoody today then, innit. It’s grey. And nice. Also got HEAR thing. ‘Course I’m so simple in the brain, it means nothing to me, like. And that DARE thing is a bit of a pain too. Ever feel like you want to press pause on your life, get a bit of shuteye and resume but at a slower pace? Well, I have that. This Sixth Year thing is happening way too fast. I’m actually beginning to get stressed. Eww. I am not a nice stressed person. I don’t get stressed like normal people too. I get all addled in the brain and cry a lot and become really philosophical but in the dreariest way possible. It’s horrible really.

If money was no object I’d be going on a little adventure soon and it would be the cutest thing. And it might just make me swoon or something. And, y’know, be in a continually lovey dovey mood. That’d be nice, although unlikely. Whatever happens, I have about enough to contend with as it is. So whatevssssss.

Test tomorrow on the Tuisil Gineadach. (That’s fair not even spelt properly.) Test on Wednesday on Newgrange. Chemistry experiment tomorrow, which, no, I did not read. PE tomorrow? Oh God. Kill me now. If my tracksuit’s still on the missing list in the morning, I refuse to accept blame for my lack of participation in Physical Education. My mother’s on the missing list – blame her, the witch.

Having some bizarre nightmares lately. Arguments and that. And one about Skins as well, which was nice, albeit sinister. Roll on 28th January though, please. I do miss Freddie. He used to remind me of someone. I hope he won’t anymore. Cannot handle more miserable thoughts.

What I wouldn’t give to avoid this History homework, pawn it off on someone else. I actually have a headache from this bad mood. Irksome or wha’? Handed up that History project today. Hazel and I went and tracked down that darling of a woman, Ms Doherty, and the look of surprised delight on her face when we handed her our projects.

Pretty much had me in high spirits until quarter past eleven when I’d to go see Ms Grace and she was in full swing teacher mode. Almost broke my heart listening to her. I sounded like I was malfunctioning, I said ‘yep’ in a such a ridiculously sickly sweet voice that many times.

Then German grammar class. If that’s not bothersome of a Monday morning, I dunno what is. Something about adjectival endings. I like taking notes. I think they look nice. Not so keen on learning them though.
Chemistry simply baffles me. Once upon a time I really did love science and I have no idea why that was. First Year science was the best thing ever. Sixth Year chemistry takes the good out of my day, watching the clock from five to eleven, thinking that this is the longest five minutes of my life.

Yeah, so my phone’s acting the bastard lately as well. Like, if I text someone and don’t get a reply for ages, I start to get suspicious so I turn off my phone and turn it on again and then I get about three or four texts at once. I don’t have the time for this kinda carry on, naw mean? Ughh.

‘Very Kirsten Dunst’.
God, if only.

Good things about today? Well, it’s nearly over. And I pretty much got asked on a ‘date’, innit. And I think Amy’s getting me that teapot necklace (I’m so into gold lately). And the hoodies were good. And mine and Hazel’s screaming thing. HILAR. And I’m exhausted so I’ll definitely sleep tonight, unlike last night where I was lying the wrong way in the bed staring at the dark ceiling until all hours. Hate trying to sleep on a Sunday night. Most futile endeavour ever.

Right, that’s it: I’m going to do my History. Ughhh.

Friday, January 15, 2010

Friday Woe.

Single worst Friday afternoon of my life. Sniff. Almost cried. Didn’t. Still haven’t. Had dinner and a KitKat and looked at nice pictures and felt a bit cheated by the whole idea of talent, that if I have any, it’s/ they’re the same as everyone else’s. Bothers me.

History project not done. History homework not done. On the receiving end of one of the most disturbing teacher-student dirty looks ever given. German not learned. Luckily went uninterrogated. German folder found in pieces on the floor of the cloakroom. That’s when I really almost started crying. English: painful, sleep-inducing kind of boredom. Everything else before lunch? Equally disconcerting and infuriatingly dull and unfulfilling. Double Art is stupid and I can’t draw and what the flip is texture anyway? Chemistry is fast becoming a miserable little bitch of an agonising school subject. Double Maths, dull as a dull thing. Linear Programming could jump off a bridge and I swear I wouldn’t miss it. Not a bit. And, finally, Irish with the lovely Ms Healy? Do not ask. Irrrrrrksome.

So much homework to complete (or, at the very least, consider) over the weekend. Between that English essay, Art essay, History project, contextualisation question, paragraph on Terry O’Neill, Irish poetry and oral questions and trying to teach myself something about esterification, I have a fun-filled few days ahead. Only giving details in lieu of sympathy, so if you’re offering, thanks. Much appreciated.

Ya know when you’re not sure what you want? Like, you’re not sure what would lift your dull mood? I have that. Maybe I’m just sleepy. I am sleepy. Too sleepy for an adventure. And probably too sleepy for SVP but I’ll go to avoid a stinking conscience later.

On second thoughts, seeing Aisling later will more than likely cheer me up. 

See all you lovely people? Have a good weekend. I’ll update on mine as the need/ compulsion/ obsession arises. TTFN. x
You Only Live Once
We're Fucked
Starry Eyed
PostSecret - Defined by Disorders

Thursday, January 14, 2010


Pretty pictures make me feel like the world is a beautiful place and they make me long for summer and adventures and heat and good skin days and girly sun dresses. And all the lovely summer songs. And the beverages. And the looking forward to college. Yay.

Alright so school wasn’t that bad today. Only six more months. Ish. Then off into the world as a sort of adult thing. Limerick, hopefully. Four hundred-ish points. Hopefully. In the meantime, I’m getting a kick out of the general hilarity of Sixth Year and my friends and our group dynamic and lunchtimes down by the chip van. And I missed my Basil so much, having not seen her for over three weeks. Damn universe conspiring against us having a slumber partaay over the Christmas. Not nice. But seeing Hazel today and remembering why I adore the girl so much? Lovely. :)

The rest of school was a bit of a blur. A lot of handouts and exam questions and there’s a dance in Billy Brennan’s barn tonight… Bizarre. But good. I am exhausted. Ought to be doing homework – by rights – but promised myself (and other people) a blog post tonight. Excuse the poor quality and complete lack of purpose, other than to say this:

Right, so I’ve been thinking about life and, in particular, my life and it’s alright, isn’t? Maybe it shouldn’t still be part of my daily thought process but I can’t help coming back to the whole ‘being single’ thing. It’s alright, isn’t it? Is it alright to think about it still? It must be. Of course it’s okay to be single. In fact, my singleness has won approval from all my friends, which is a rarity. Ya know that saying ‘you can’t please all of the people all of the time’? Well, it’s the story of my life. But right now I think I might just be pleasing all of the people. All of my friends and family, at least. I honest to God can’t tell if it’s pleasing me. I genuinely don’t know. I’m completely happy and I couldn’t be happier but have you ever gotten that feeling that an addition to your life wouldn’t go unappreciated? Maybe it’s just the mood I’m in lately, having watched Pearl Harbour the other night and that. I don’t know. I feel like a fucking Martian.

Hmm. It’s all rather confusing, this being a hormonal and Leaving Cert student girl creature thing. And do you ever feel disposable? I suppose I don’t anymore, and I wouldn’t let someone else make me feel that way but, shucks, I do. I feel a bit irrelevant. Off to do homework and pose being important or something. More tea anyway!

I know there wasn’t a lot of good, strong, solid content in this particular post (along with many others, actually – I seem to do a lot of apologising for this sort of thing), but you’ll live, yeah? Shall make it up to you with exciting (and possibly untrue) stories of my weekend or something. Take care.

Oh, by the way, don’t know if you’re interested, but I’ve been listening to these people lately:

Old Rilo Kiley stuff.
New-ish Placebo stuff.
New-ish Kooks stuff.
Mixture of Modest Mouse.
Bit of Arcade Fire.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

One of Those ‘What’s Going on in Your Life?’ Blog Posts.

Needless to say, what with the snow and the extra week of holidays and the not getting up ‘til about one in the afternoon, there’s not an awful lot going on in my life. Which is fine. I sort of like this nothingness. Mainly because it’s self-inflicted. There are times when you’d end up smearing your own excrement on the walls of your bedroom for the want of something to do. That’s usually someone else’s fault though. They’re busy or something. But I’m sort of choosing this inertia. Probably the best plan of action (or inaction, whatevs) I’ve had in a while. I’ve gotten rid of all forms of distraction (sort of), and it’s bizarre, but I think I like it.

However, typical me, I’ve found a new distraction/ obsession. I hope it’s temporary. If not, it could well end up being the very worst plan of action that’s ever occurred to me. And it will be action. That’s the truly terrible thing. I can guarantee that I will do some awkward, forceful and embarrassing thing just to, you know, cement in people’s brains that I am actually a freak. You’d think that because I know I’m going to do it and I know it’s a bad idea, I’d do something to prevent myself from doing it. But no. That’s the tragedy of Emma Norris, I think: even though I know something is a bad idea, I will still carry it through to fruition just to make sure. It does make for hilarious relaying of details afterwards though. Amy Coe genuinely laughs at me for ‘the situations you get yourself into’. Oh well.

In other news, I’m utterly bored of Twitter. Who knew narcissism had a limit? Hmm. Actually, I probably only had one reason for being so interested in Twitter all along and now that that’s diminished, Twitter has lost its charm. Gosh, I’m a sucker for a bit of attention, aren’t I?

Formspring, on the other hand, is good. I quite like all the blogging references where people are all like, ‘Keep up the good work!’, ‘A+’, etc. It makes me happy to think that people like reading my nonsense. Is that arrogant? It hardly is, is it? I don’t know. It’s nice to be liked, or at least have something I write to be liked. It’s really nice. Giddy nice. Oh shucks.

Oh, I’ve also convinced myself that the world is actually going to end in 2012. And I’d really rather it didn’t. I’ve grown quite attached to this life thing over the past few months and I kinda want to enjoy it a bit longer too. Rather than until I’m, what, twenty-one? That’s dreary. But at least it’s a nice number, I suppose.

Here is a picture of my back garden covered in snow this morning:
S’grand, innit?

I got my camera, y’see (finally) and I’ve been pretty snap-happy with it since. For example, here’s a picture of me:

Okay, so I didn’t take that. Obviously. Mummy Dearest did. She wanted to make sure that whoever saw the picture would see our cooker and our tiles. And the raw chicken on the table. Hmm.

Photobucket is merciless in its extreme slowness. Maybe it’s me pushing it towards the edge in choosing to upload twenty-three photos at once. I don’t know. Tried to think of a clever and high-tech way to send some photos to my Yankland brother but Hotmail is a bit of a berk and so is Photobucket. Ended up just putting ‘em on Facebook, which probably seems like the most obvious solution to the problem anyway, but whatevs. I was trying to be fancy. Didn’t work. He’ll probs see them so it’s gwand.

Feeling sort of emotional tonight. I don’t even want to say what’s up. I think just wallowing in this lovey dovey wanty moods is enough for now.

This post was honestly going to go somewhere but it started at about four o’clock and it’s half nine now and was ist der Point? Leaving on a jetplane. Might well have something interesting to say tomorrow, though I doubt it.

Chocolate ice cream is in order, I think. Also, if you feel like cheering me up, go right ahead. Bleh.

Thursday, January 07, 2010

Saturday, January 02, 2010


Now that I’m in a better mood and equipped with a package of Taytos and a can of Druids (are the two states of being related?), I thought I’d bang out an ol’ blog post. Short and sweet. Sickly sweet. I don’t know. Basically, I’m feeling slightly more optimistic about the future now. This feeling of well-being etc. is helped along nicely by the fact that I get to see JG in a bit and consume (hopefully minute amounts of) alcohol.

Innit that today was a bad day but tomorrow will be better? And tonight will be better.

I’m wearing fancy eyeshadow for the first time in months and my hair is pinned back again. I feel adventurous, even if only on that tiny, irrelevant and inconsequential-to-the-rest-of-the-world kind of scale. It’s great.
No more of this nonsense. (:

Limerick then, yeah? I’m excited. Roll on Leaving Cert., yeah? Class of Ten. Let’s rock this bitch. ;D

Now that I think about it, New Year’s Eve was hilarious. My friends are not right in the brain. It’s great. Screaming Katy Perry into Amy’s face, telling Christy Floyd to be ‘the best little girl that you can be!’ and learning the I-Don’t-Want-To-Meet-You dance move. Some night. Love my friends. (‘:

Oh, that reminds me: this slightly happy post is dedicated to those wonderful, loyal fans of mine, Pender & Hannah. Captain Dance Crew fo’ lyffffff. Also, I adore your cleavage, Hannah. I love you kids.


This is How I’m Feeling.

So much for leaving on a jetplane and all that; I’ve been persuaded to blog again. And I’m not fighting because maybe I need this outlet. Yes, it’s passive-aggressive, perhaps it makes me an attention seeker, but the people I’m fretting about never read this anyway so what’s the difference? It’s been a while since I was genuinely worried about how people felt about me. They can hate me or pity me. It’s all the one: I’m oblivious. So I’m back, sort of. But I still want that other private sentimental thing. Just so I can feel authentic. Or something.

I feel like I’ve sort of achieved everything I wanted to achieve and what’s left? God, I hate January. Every January without fail, I feel like this. This crapness. This feeling futile and listless and blank. I don’t like it. I miss everything.

I miss the team that was me and you. Today more than ever. Come back into my life, please. I would give anything to have that again, to forget these last few months, for you to forget these last few months. Please. I’ll be perfect, I promise. Just come back.

I miss what good friends you and I were once upon a time. How I could tell you anything and you could tell me anything. How you were always able to cheer me up. How you always smelled wonderful and you thought the world of me. How you were my big brother. I still adore you. And I wish things hadn’t changed so much between us. I wish we were good friends now.

There is no such thing as a perfect boy. When I find something that resembles perfection, I get freaked out by thinking it’s too perfect and the whole thing cancels itself out and I throw it in the bin and turn the other cheek. I thought I knew what was perfect, but it turns out that my idea of ‘perfect’ bores me senseless. And I can’t take care of anyone.

To make things better now… All I want right now… Call to my house. Bring spirits of some strong description. We’ll drink shots quickly and artistically. We’ll get twisted and go on an adventure. Please. Please please please.

I can feel those stupid feelings mounting again. All over again. I refuse to drown again just because of the season. No. No, thank you. I’ve had about enough of that nonsense and I’d like a change. But I have nothing to do and I’m getting restless (and reckless, if we’re being honest) and I need an intervention. Before the whole world crumbles. Again. Please.