Sunday, February 28, 2010

nice things.

Yet another perfect weekend. Well, nearly. Timing would have made it completely perfect, but it was close enough anyway. Between, y’know, falling more and more in love by the day and seeing the Boy Wonder and having Hazel over and laughing so much and getting bizarrely drunk off a pint of Bulmers and all these new private jokes. This is just gorgeous.

And I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a bitch. I’m loud and obnoxious and I talk without thinking most of the time, but I’m not a bitch. If you insist on telling me that I am, at least do it with a bit of dignity. Maybe don’t hide behind anonymity? No?

Das akay.

Well, anyway, I’m smelly and have things to be doing (like not studying Chemistry) so au revoir. (:

I didn't know that the words you said to me
Meant more to me than they ever could you.

Saturday, February 27, 2010

short & swee(ney todd)t. (:

Today will be a good day. Steak & kidney pie, anyone? I cannot wait to see the Boy Wonder and that darling Hazel girl too. Sweeney Todd as well. I love my life.

Binning those diaries soon. Can’t wait.

Skins the other night? I properly cried. Cried like I haven’t done in an age.

I’m wearing jeans. I never wear jeans. This is oh so brand new.

Totally had the best Saturday shower. Love that.

Need to consume alcohol soon to get all this ridiculous academia out of my system. Roll on Breithlá Amy, what?

Anyway, you kids have a good day. x


I felt like I needed a bit of minimalism in my life, hence the white background. Added bonus? It’ll make the page load faster for all you loyal readers. Although the ridiculous amount of pretty pictures I post probably hinders the speed as well. Hmm.

Opting for change and forward motion. All those old diaries? The ones from three years (and more) ago? Binning ‘em. They disturb me. Ever feel like you’d like to go back in time and slap your younger self? Tell yourself to cop on? I have that. Ugh. So, in a weirdly ritualistic kind of way, I’m going to get rid of those and all the magazines I’ve accumulated over the years. You keep these things to serve as souvenirs and reminders to the past. They’re tangible memories. But maybe I don’t want those sorts of memories anymore. This is liberating.

You probably don’t want to hear about how Art History went today (grand, apart from risking that Monet painted L’absinthe) and German (uncertified disaster), so I won’t bore you with the details. The tiredness has caught up with me and I’ve been irritable all day. And I still didn’t watch Skins. What is my beef?

I hope I’m not regressing. Do you think people actually genuinely do that to themselves, subconsciously revert back to old behaviour because it’s what they’re used to? I really hope not. I mean, not in this situation, at least. Am I really that much of a wimp?

Maybe this blog is too personal. Well, yeah, it is too personal. I would like a change. A subject matter. But all the good one’s have been taken, innit. Oh well. Maybe divulging every thought in my head and every foodstuff in my belly is a talent that I’ve well and truly mastered and maybe I shouldn’t question it and maybe I should just accept the glory and fame that obviously goes with being on the interweb?

Some people use too many big words. And I want to read your blog, I really do, but I have no idea what you’re talking about. Ever. It’s like reading a difficult school textbook while trying to sustain consciousness. The stuff you’re waffling on about? Completely gone over my head. It’s almost painful.

Back to passive aggression, then? Well, alrighty.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

More Mocks.

So it’s Thursday. Thursday evening. Finally. A long holiday seems in order though I only have three proper subjects done. Thank God English, Irish and Maths are out of the way. They pretty much broke my heart. And my back. Maths 2 was a bit dodgy today – finicky kinds of questions. Took an awful long time and an awful lot of attempts to remember how to do linear programming. But I did in the end! (: English 2 was a bit… meh. Like, it wasn’t a disaster but it wasn’t exactly pleasant either. Art and German tomorrow. Which is a bit of a pain, ‘cause I can’t exactly wing those. Well, I can, but I really shouldn’t. I will look over Irish art and European art. I will.

So, yeah, tomorrow’s Friday? I’ll be studying. No, I actually mean it. I need to be able to understand Chemistry by Monday morning. Please. And maybe I’ll write a History essay, though I doubt it. Think I might beg Mummy Dearest to purchase me some tinnage so that I can fall into some sort of dreamless sleep. That would be quite nice. (Dreamt about J last night. He had an afro.)

So, erm, in other news, I went for a walk last night (we’re talking, like, in the dark?) and was completely and utterly dizzy with fear. What. A. Sap.

Also, am ridiculously excited for Skins tonight, even though really, I won’t get to watch it ‘til tomorrow. But whatevs. Cannot wait. (:

That’s about the extent of it now, I think… x

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

feeling… listless.

I miss you. I shouldn’t, because you’re still here, obviously. But I miss the way that I really did need you before. I still need you, but it’s not feasible anymore. I’m not so much of a mess anymore and you have your own life and you can’t spend it all worrying about me. I’m glad. I’m glad that I’m not so much of a hindrance anymore – less crying, less late night texts. You are allowed to resume your life. But I miss you. And I know if I asked, you’d start again, you’d come into my life again like you did then and you’d try to fix things. But what is there left to fix? I’m always going to be like this. With lovely, lengthy holidays from the misery. And I hold you fully responsible for those lapses in sadness. I owe you so much. Thank you. 

Irish Paper 2 today: An Cearrbhach Mac Cába and An Bhean Óg, as well as Faoiseamh a Gheobhadsa and Gealt? (le comhartha ceist). Pretty handy. Risked home afterwards ‘cause I got jealous of Amy going home. I had plans to stay and study but that’s the opportunity cost, I suppose. English 2 and Maths 2 tomorrow. I sniff a fail. Oh well. I could study, but studying would involve expending energy that I simply do not have. Ugh.

Trying in vain to find someone to celebrate with next Wednesday, end of the Pres and all that, but it seems that everyone except me is going to Waterford. I’m thinking few tins at home? Maybe chippies? How very sad. Damn poverty. Damn not having a life. Oh dear.

Not complaining though, ‘cause Amy’s birthday is a-creeping towards us anyway and I see shots of tequila and pints of Bulmers on the horizon, money or no money.

Should probably do something productive this afternoon. I’m leaning towards taking a nap, in the hopes that I’ll be wide awake later to at least pretend to look over English notes and linear programming.

My life is a farce. And I haven’t said that in a long time.

Want a random fact about mé féin? I brush my teeth in school most mornings ‘cause I do be running late. Who knew, wha’?

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

without a hint of regret.

I really do love my life. I love vampires. And the way there’ll be ducks in my life sometime. I love the media. Is it unreasonable to wish to work for the radio or for the telly? I want that. Think rich, look poor. Coffee. Paramore. The English language. I completely missed the point of Paper 1 though, didn’t I? Ughh.

Irish Paper 1 today. Instead of studying, I spent the whole morning reading New Moon and now I’m finished and am dreading the thoughts of having to come home later and actually study and not get lost in someone else’s story. I think this makes me a sap. But I really get the whole Twilight thing, why it’s so big. I’m pretty much in love with it. And I’m a cynic, I really am.

I am too young to be pondering the meaning of life. I should only be concerned about having a laugh and wearing nice dresses. And, for the most part, that is all I worry about.

I really hope I get to go to UL. I really want that course. Everything about it makes my insides reverberate with excitement. Which is more than a little gay. The idea of learning shorthand, for some bizarre reason, makes my heart swell. And doing German. And getting to write. I don’t know. It’s passion, baby.

Ya know the way nowadays that if you’re going for a job interview, your interviewers will probs Google your name and lurk around your Facebook profile and the like? Well, if my prospective employers read this, I wonder what they’d think. I mean, I’m not ashamed of a single word of this and I genuinely wouldn’t mind who read it (so long as it’s not, like, my mother or my brother or something), but would it hinder me in the working world? That pains me just a little bit. I think I’m pretty much destined for the Dole office and that is a fact. Hmm.

Sunday, February 21, 2010



There has been much tragedy in my life; at least half of it actually happened.

cleaned my room.

Cleaned my room today. A four hour clean. Anything to avoid studying. Pres starting tomorrow. I’m fine now (having not looked at the books for more than a minute all this week), but I know I’ll be crying by tomorrow evening. But I just can’t make myself feel guilty. Not yet anyway.

So my room is sparkling clean. Some sort of calm restored. I found loads of things I’d forgotten about, including (bizarrely) a tin of deodorant that I was saving for sentimental reasons. I sprayed it and wished I hadn’t. (I’ve always been one for smells. Smells remind me of different times in my life, sometimes more than photos do.) I threw the deodorant in the bin.

I also threw out stupid CDs I’ve had with years. I tried to get rid of some books too but that was near impossible. I’m very attached to my books. I managed to divest myself of about six or seven children’s ones (though obviously not the likes of Enid Blyton and Roald Dahl) and that was about the best I could do. Harder again was throwing out all my old copies of NME. Even though I never even read that magazine anymore and more than likely don’t even like the music they’re appraising these days, it was tough. Parting with a different epoch. (Why am I so obsessed with epochs?)

Found Busted’s first album. Anyone remember that gem? It looked like it could have been damaged but, luckily, true genius stands the test of time. I also found my ticket from when I went to see Busted in concert when I was, like, thirteen.

I started reading through old diaries as well and I very nearly vommed at the freak of a girl that I was. I said ‘LOL’ a lot. But I wasn’t being ironic. What’s with that, like? Found school journals from Second Year upwards. Second and Third were by far the most graffiti-filled academic years. And my TY one is virtually empty, a fact I found quite amusing.

I kept some things, even though my immediate instinct was to burn them in a paroxysm of rage and sadness. Old photos and notes and things like that. I dunno. I feel like if I had binned them, I’d regret it sometime. When I wanted to look back on my life, y’know? Okay, so my life doesn’t look like that anymore (nor does my hair, actually), but I was happy then. A different kind of happy. And I think it’s important to at least acknowledge that by keeping the photos, rather than binning them and trying to convince myself that none of that even happened. It’s healthier this way, surely?

I made myself a collage in my diary of all my appointment cards from the psych. clinic. I don’t know why, but I find it hilarious.

Thursday, February 18, 2010


Yesterday was, like, perfect. I love that you love my mother and that my mother thinks you’re gorgeous in every way, personality especially. I love that you make me happy and everyone can see it. I love that I make you happy. I love our adventures and your eyes and your hands and how you never tell me to shut up and how we’re perfect for each other and how where have you been all my life? I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy and comfortable with someone. Wow. Just wow.

Monday, February 15, 2010

a swelled heart in my chest.

“How can a woman be expected to be happy with a man who insists on treating her as if she were a perfectly normal human being?”

News-wise? I’m spotty but clean and in a very comic mood. Demetri Martin on Youtube, please. But Youtube is being infuriatingly slow tonight. And RealPlayer has stopped working too. But it’s okay. ‘Cause I’m listening to this really pretty song on repeat and it reminds me of you and I’m not entirely sure why. Maybe only because times passes far too quickly when I’m with you or talking to you on the phone. I love that.

Lots of study tomorrow. And essays. And soup.

And an adventure on Wednesday.

These feelings feel so brand new. And I swear I didn’t think it was possible. Last night was just so lovely. More of that in the future, please. More stupid, four hour-long phone conversations. Steaming turd. Falling asleep holding your hand. Singing songs. Just, you know, this. ♥

haven’t you heard?

Hello, is it me yaar lookin’ faar? Absolutely adore RHJ.

Pretty much just had the most amazing weekend. Ya know the kind where you don’t get to sit still once? I love that kind of weekend. I had that and it was perfect. Like, words-cannot-describe kind of perfect. I’m happier than I’ve been in a while. I was happy anyway but this is a lovely, wonderful and exciting bonus. And, like, it’s so nice. Like, I-can’t-stop-smiling-whenever-I-think-about-it nice.

And last night was hilarious. And lovely. And I actually love my life so much.

I used to need alcohol to be able to talk to people and have the craic and what have you. I don’t anymore. I like that.

Serious malnutrition regarding sleep this weekend. Tough at the top, boi, wha’? Think I’ll have a shower and read New Moon and conk out for a bit.

Amy got me a rose for V Day and little buns with hearts on ‘em for all of us. I love her. :’)

I sort of have news that I wouldn’t necessarily consider news, or least something I should be broadcasting here. I expect you to be able to read between the lines though. Maybe it’s obvious that I’m smitten? Idk.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

V Day D Day.

I’m very happy. Very, very happy. Also very hungover and snotty-nosed, but mostly happy.

I spent a long time choosing pictures for this post. I want them to say the right thing. I don’t know if they do. I want to tell you that, yeah, it’s V Day and it’s lovey dovey and that, but it’s not just that kind of love. I love my friends. More than anything and everything else in the whole wide world. And I didn’t have time to make them cards this year (which, y’know, kills me), but they’re who I focus my love on, always. I have amazing friends. They’re all so perfect. Like, all of them. The ones I see on a daily basis and the ones I rarely get to see. The ones I miss ‘cause they’ve gone to coláiste or are busy living their own lives in some other corner of the republic. I love them all.

Yesterday was amazing. Perfect in every single way. I want to tell you all about it but my words would not do it justice. It was lovely. And I’m happy and excited and happy. If you must know: fish cakes, whiiiiizz, cider aplenty, nice photos (some of which I might post later), etc. And Serge Gainsbourg is beginning to grow on me. Which is not a good sign.

I honest to God love my life. (:

now some days, they last longer than others
but this day by the lake went too fast.

Friday, February 12, 2010

Some Things That Made Me Smile.


“Cruelty free? Free-range? This one tastes like it died screaming.”
Anthony Bourdain.

“Tragedy is when I cut my finger, comedy is when I walk into an open sewer and die.” Mel Brooks.

“Talking about music is like dancing about architecture.” Laurie Anderson.

“People say don’t give homeless people money. “They’ll only spend it on booze or drugs.” I think, hey, the guy’s living in a box, maybe he needs a drink.”
Jake Johannsen.

“I hate people who love me. And they hate me.” Bender Unit 22.

“I will not make any deals with you. I’ve resigned. I will not be pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed or numbered. My life is my own. I resign.”
Number 6.

“Destiny is a good thing to accept when it’s going your way. When it isn’t, don’t call it destiny; call it injustice, treachery, or simple bad luck.” Joseph Heller.

“My friend has a baby. I’m writing down all the noises he makes so later I can ask him what he meant.” Stephen Wright.

“Sometimes when I feel like killing someone, I do a little trick to calm myself down. I’ll go over to the persons house and ring the doorbell. When the person comes to the door, I’m gone, but you know what I’ve left on the porch? A jack-o-lantern with a knife stuck in the side of it’s head with a note that says “You.” After that I usually feel a lot better, and no harm done.” Jack Handey.


“I bet when the Neanderthal kids would make a snowman, someone would always end up saying, “Don’t forget the thick, heavy brows.” Then they would all get embarrassed because they remembered they had the big hunky brows too, and they’d get mad and eat the snowman.” Jack Handey.

“Be careful of reading health books, you might die of a misprint.” Mark Twain.

paisean faisean.

Just remembered that I told Ms Healy that I wanted to be a fashion journalist. God, I have high hopes for myself. I’d love to post clothes pictures here but I dunno if I actually dress that nice. Like, I like the way I dress but I dunno would anyone else approve. Opinions?

Make Awkward Sexual Advances, Not War.

Rilo Kiley are an amazing band that you should listen to. Listen to ‘The Angels Hung Around’. 

You were stuck in the badlands
Acting like a bad, bad man
I’ve been photographed and painted up
And I’ve been in love only once

And I feared the best and loved the worst
And insisted that I go first
And watched your eyes as they poured
And I never really loved you more

And I never thought I'd see you
As I did today.

There’s a poor quality version of it here, if you’re interested.

In other news, the Pre-Orals were today. Possibly the longest day of my life. After much faffing around with times and schedules, I had German at quarter past two and Irish at half two.

German was a stuttery, sombre affair, with me sitting in wet-eyed silence trying to spew out coherent sentences about cows. I was promised old people and Ruhestorung but ended up with cows, of all things. The only picture sequence of which I haven’t an iota of information. The general conversation was just as bad, searching for words other than ‘sehr gut’ und ‘spannend’. I think I managed to say ‘in order to relax’ properly though. Which is something. The only real positive out of the whole thing was getting the ideal roleplay. The only one I know well. The one I can say in my sleep. Guten Morgen. Haben Sie gut geschlafen? Full marks on that, apparently. Easy come, easy go, wha’?

Irish was surprisingly nice. Sliocht a hAon. Den chéad scoth. (: Me and Ms Healy had a nice chat about Paramore, the Gaelteacht and how I was in Yankland when I was younger. And what I’d do if I was the principal. I’d risk a half day every Wednesday and I’d let the students park in the carr chlós. She asked me why they weren’t allowed now. I was all, ‘Níl siad covered by the insurance…’ FML. Some howl though, all the same.

Home now and in my jammies, which is the story of my life. It’s nice though. I’m so glad today is done. I had a cup of tea. It wasn’t amazing but it was the first I’d had in about a week, which is bizarre. And very unlike me.

I have a headache that would knock a horse but that’s okay and I’ll tell you why: I’m going to have din dins soon and watch last night’s Skins (that reminds me: totally talked about Skins in my Irish oral.) on the computer, risk SVP, read New Moon in beddy bye byes and the end.

And tomorrow will be lovely.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Rather Unemotional.

I like to include pictures in my posts that mean something to me, that connect nicely with how I’m feeling, even if the words I write mention nothing of such feelings. I like to see them and understand how I felt at that particular moment in time. Though they’re completely subjective and my thoughts and feelings change from week to week, whether or not they’re represented by pretty pictures. So the pictures mean different things at different times.

Anyway, the problem is now that I’m not sure how I feel. About anything. There’s nothing wrong. Things are just… static. There’s a whole lot of nothingness and not much else. Routine school days and weekends and tedious arguments and very little fresh air. It’s boring. Really boring. I don’t know if I’m excited for the midterm and the opportunity for adventure or if I’m dreading the thoughts of timetabled study and alone time.

I am bored.

Also, I wish everyone would just f*ck off. Like, I don’t want alone time, but I don’t want people either. What is wrong with me? F*ck Sixth Year. Ugh. 

I’m being so miserable lately. Stupid, silly, inconsequential things are bothering me. Stress is affecting me and I’ve barely noticed.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Sixth Year Stress

The whole of Sixth Year is on edge and you can feel the tension in every classroom, particularly Irish with the pre-orals looming terrifyingly on Friday. Irish was almost silent today but for mumbled and stuttered practicing of nonsense about mo cheantar agus ceol agus mo theaghlach srl. It was painful.

Everyone seems fit to kill everyone else and it’s strange. I’m included in the equation – if I’m not arguing, I’m stone cold silent. And everyone is stupid and no one understands me and I’m wrecked and I don’t know my oral work and my legs hurt and the pre’s are only about a week and a half away and I’m going to fail them quite profoundly. Etc.

In other news, I realised how to move my life just that bit further up on the one to ten happiness scale. We’re talking going for a half hour walk after school and straightening my hair. And I mean TOTAL here. (Finished The Orange Mocha-Chip Frappucino Years last night, FYI.)

Also, Sky’s gone so no more decent telly for me for at least the next few months. If ever again. Started reading New Moon last night which should keep me occupied for the next week or so. Bizarrely, thinking about recanting my declaration of love for vampires: Edward Cullen is acting the brat in this. Fair enough, I’m only on page sixty-five and he still has hundreds of pages left in which to redeem himself, but whatevs.

Speaking of people acting the brat in the line of love: Naomi. Of Naomi & Emily? Yeah, her. Why is she such a cunt? It bothers me. Emily is way too nice and she’s taking advantage. What with going with Cook I dunno how many times, and lots more in the future (or so I heard through the vine), and getting off with random weepy girls, Naomi is nothing but a bitch.

Is it weird that I’m genuinely upset about what the fictional characters from a fictional TV programme are doing with themselves? I blame the increase in stress levels.

Anyway, the long and short of it is that school is gay and the only real highlight of my day is getting into bed at night. Which is more than a little depressing.

Good things: Twilight, tea, orange juice, bed, doing Maths homework, taking notes in English, HOB. Other stuff too but that’s what I’m thinking of right now.

It bothers me that I don’t get to talk to my best friend enough during the school week, and rarely at the weekends either lately. Damn school. I miss my Aisling.

Off to go walkies now and return to highlight something resembling history notes (FML), then shower, climb into bed and converse with the lovely SB on the phone. Little miracles everywhere, wha’?

Apologies to the whole wide world for my being such a miserable little bitch this week. Damn school…

Lots of lurrrrve (‘cause I’m in that kind of mood). xxx

Sunday, February 07, 2010

Like, 90% Sure.

Okay so, typical me, I’m in two minds all over again. I thought it was wrong before but now you are endearing. But the thing is, I didn’t want you when you were the only option, when you were there and wanted me. Now that I have a choice, I want you. I think I do. But maybe I only feel like this in order to confuse myself. Self-sabotage. I can’t help thinking that you are important. That you’re supposed to be in my life. Is that weird? I don’t know who I’m trying to please at all. Is it me? What do I even want? I maybe possibly sort of want you.

‘It was the perfect winter’s day. We were wrapped up in proper winter coats and it was cold and sunny and everyone said hello and it was like something out of a film.’

Things have changed. Something has shifted in my brain and I genuinely want this. But ‘Emmy'? No one can compete with that. I’m such a sap. And maybe I do have low standards. And maybe the fact they have a face is enough and I’m sold. But I don’t know. This is different, surely?

Because if you want someone, you want to be able to say whatever you like to them, and have private jokes with them, and cuddle them. They’re supposed to be the person you want to phone at four in the morning after you’ve had a horrible dream. Someone who’ll take care of you. Someone who constantly amazes you. Maybe that sounds greedy. But if it’s possible, then why not?

And I know who fits that criteria. And I want this.

Need adviceeeeeeeeeeee.

Saturday, February 06, 2010

Things I Love/ Hate.

I hate how similar we are, how it could be me in that ideal situation. And the only reason I’m not is because of timing. And maybe something to do with the fact that you’re so beautiful. You really are. I’m supposed to be original and different. But I feel like I’m copying you. And I don’t even know you.

I love when I get into a cleaning mood and make my room all nice and bright and tidy. I love the way my desk is all pretty and cutesy and organised and the way, despite hangover, I hoovered the whole house.

I hate being so fickle and biding my time like this… just in case.

I love how I’ve become enthusiastic about reading again. How there’s three books on my desk and I’m genuinely excited about reading them.

I hate being poverty-stricken. I hate being a crap candidate for jobs and I hate that I can’t think of anything that I can do to prove that that’s not me anymore – I will work. And how.

I love how soft your hands felt. And I love that I had a giddy smile on my face for twenty minutes after that brief encounter. I love those butterflies.

I hate the colour of my room.

I love that I’ve been getting the answers right in Chemistry lately. I love that I understand what’s going on now, even if I don’t know the name of the chapter.

I hate knowing that I’m going to fail the mocks. I don’t really do failure so I’m not really prepared for this.

I love taking photos with my friends. I love my friends and how beautiful and funny and fun they are.

Groupies or something.
 The sexual tension. . You could cut it with a knife.
 Eskimo kisses.
 Om nom nom. Hotcakes.

Wednesday, February 03, 2010

it was your heart on the line.

Day off today. It was nice. Spent most of it with Aisling, which was lovely. Felt nice. Sought a job. Nothing yet but I am determined. Didn’t do a tap of homework all day. It’s near ten now and I’m considering at least some Irish or German. Eww. Psych. app. tomorrow. Don’t mind too much. Have to bring that form though. I know I’ll forget. Also have to go to the library. I ought to make a checklist. Hmm. Mumford & Sons’ album is lovely. Like, properly lovely. I need new earphones. My old ones recently left this world. If anyone wants to supply me with some until I can gather the funds to purchase new ones, that would be great. Can I really Trust Tommy? (;

Finally charged my camera (with the Yankland to UK converter plug thing). As a result, I’ve been a bit vain today. Eww. And yes, those are bags under my eyes. And yes, you could carry your shopping in them.

Also got my teapot necklace the other day. It makes me happy. (:

Gig Friday. Should be… interesting. At the very least. I always plan for worst case scenario and this week I see myself ending up in McDonald’s drinking cheap coffee all night. The funny thing is, that doesn’t sound so bad.

Finished reading Twilight and watched the film last night. I’m pretty much in love. With everything about it. Om nom nom.

That’s about the extent of it, I think?

I’m in an excellent mood.


"I’m not into appearances. I like flaws, I think they make things interesting."

Monday, February 01, 2010

epiphany or something.

There is no beauty without strangeness.

I’ve got no one to call
In the middle of the night anymore
I’m just alone
With my thoughts

Maybe all that’s really wrong at the moment is that I need change. Again. And I don’t deal so well with changing or having to change or even change being a natural process. I think change is good. Almost always. But I find it hard to get over that hill whereafter we’re sailing and laughing. It’s difficult.

But I think I had something of an epiphany on the bus home from school. And I think that instead of freaking out and worrying, there is something more productive I can do. In the meantime. I’m waiting for something wonderful to happen but I’m impatient. And also quite adamant that I should have to put in no effort whatsoever. But that’s not right. It makes no sense to pause my life waiting for a perfect boy. Least of all to expect him to do the chasing. So I’ve decided something.

It’s still quite important to look after me. In a new sort of way. In a way that maybe makes me stretch beyond being what I currently am. I can be better.

I’ve grown complacent over the last few months, thinking that I am infallible. Thinking that I am always right. That bad things happen to me but they’re not my fault.  That I’m better than you. And I’m just not. I’m only human. And it’s nice to accept that. Even though it sounds like something I ought to know already. It hasn’t been for a while. And I admit I’ve been a bit… obnoxious. But new leaves – or scribbled out old ones – and it’s probably about time to start again. Without realising it, I’ve already set the wheels in motion and that feels really, genuinely, properly good. I missed you. I missed the both of you.

And yeah, there’s still that other pang, but it’s only a result of feeling vulnerable and lonely and that’s alright. Because it will pass.

And I’m still laughing, aren’t I? Even when I’d really rather not. My life is just one big hilari-tragedy. Things could be a lot worse.

I have a sort of plan. It involves plotting an adventure, reading lots of books, dressing up daily, and being nice. Too nice. Getting lots of sleep and lots of moisturiser. And having a nice day on Wednesday with Aisling making brownies and watching Titanic. And that other adventure might happen too.

Yes, I am an idiot.

It Hasn't Happened Yet