trip

I tried Salvia last night. I think it was x15 strength, if you are interested. Some friends had had a little a while back, and it really interested me. A completely legal trip in which you potentially lose your mind for a few minutes. People have reported space and time travel, encounters with ethereal creatures, odd body sensations and all sorts of other experience - this drug is a powerful hallucinogenic. Here, watch this Youtube clip of a fellow tripping hard:



I'm going to try and describe what it felt like for me.

Firstly, to be clear, I fucking hated it. Although, actually, the first hit was really nice, I loved the feeling that my skin was being unlaced all down my left side in lots of different places - i know this doesn't sound pleasant, but it was cool because everything still looked ok at this point- and everything felt one-dimensional in a bizarre textured way. So, thinks I, I'll have another wee go!

Dude. I have never experienced anything like this. I was completely removed my normal consciousness, and felt like I got stuck in this crazy loop. I somehow ended up on my hands and knees on the floor when I started off on the couch on the other side of the table. I wasn't in that room anymore, I felt totally disassociated. There was this impression of lots of brightly coloured halo-ish outlines around all I could see, and everything felt loud even though there was no specific noise. Every few seconds, it would change very slightly by sort of folding over on itself and me, sort of an enveloping staticy experience, which started off sort of interesting. Then it started to change in frequency, and become more random, and every time it changed I had this really uncomfortable feeling in my head. I started to feel like I was stuck and that I could never come back, that this was going to be my life and that it might not ever end. I tried to think about what I wanted to go back to, but it didn't feel real anymore either, I couldn't quite get my head around where I was, who I was with, how long I had been there, nothing felt familiar at all. The visual hallucination was all I could see, I had no concept of the room I was in or who I was with until I started to come out of it. I remember a feeling of intense relief when it started to ease up because then I knew I wasn't really stuck, and things started to get more familiar again. It felt like it lasted forever, and that I wouldn't be able to 'get back', that a switch had flicked, I'd fucked up and I was stuck there - the problem was, even when I started to 'get back' again, I wasn't sure that what I thought I was getting back to was even real. Thoroughly unsettling.

The whole thing just made me feel really horrible on the whole, and I fully intend to never ever touch the stuff again. Anyway. I can't believe this shit is legal and weed isn't!


Other things of interest:

• Yes, I know, I have been very neglectful of this blog, and I am truly sorry. Not a lot been happening, except work and railway really.
  

Huffs and Stuffs

I am in a proper aul' strop right now. Went out to Foodtown earlier grocery shopping, and when I got back to my building, I'm pretty certain that when I pulled my keys out of my back pocket, I also inadvertently yanked out my tobacco. I was vaguely aware that when I did it, my keys felt like they caught on something on their way out, and it was only an hour later when I quite fancied a cig and went to my back pocket that I twigged what had happened. Needless to say, the packet was well gone by the time I went back to check. Raaaage. Seeya later, $18.

The rest of my evening has also been spent pretty low, actually. For some reason, some fairly ancient history mooshed up with some more recent has been buzzing around my head for a few hours, stuff that still feels surprisingly stingy. This realisation has taken me aback a bit. I think it may be because I never felt able to let on to those involved just how hurt I was, for various reasons, and the time for that has well passed now. I think this is what has me low now; a sense of loss. It won't be how it could have been.

It wasn't all Doldrums and despair though, I swear; today also saw me get a library card (free books! 3$ week-long DVD rentals!) and do my laundry, so almost all of my clothes are clean.

Other things of note:

• All Blacks lose to France in Dunedin. Carolyn re-realises yet again that she is not built for drinking on School Nights.
• Not only is our pool table missing a cue ball, but also now the black and a colour.
  
• Vegemite commerical in the Railway Campus! John the actor and the exploding Vegemite gobstopper...
• A litre of Jameson's to kill the cold. Seems to have worked.
• Getting up to pee at 6.30am and finding a tired looking Alex in my living room. He and Steven were running a Jamaican shower, it transpired.
• Star Trek in Imax FTW!
  

We've Come a Long Way, Baby

Flip. It didn't take me long to start slacking off with this venture, did it? I'll make up for it with a big one. This will quite likely be incredibly boring for anyone who isn't me, but I want it documented for posterity's sake.

Most of the last month has been focused on my job hunting efforts, which in hindsight proved fairly fruitful after a relatively short space of time - I have met people here who have spent months waiting for work, so I consider myself one of the lucky ones. I am now fully employed, fully housed and happy with it - something I really couldn't envisage three weeks ago!

At the start of May, one Monday night, I went to see Ed Byrne in the Sky City theatre as part of the comedy festival. I wish I'd gone to Dylan Moran on the Friday instead, to be honest. Ah well. Kate and Cathal went, and I met them in Ted's afterward. At this stage I was still living with them - for which I will be eternally grateful, by the way, don't get me wrong! - in their gaff over in Grafton*. It was pushing past midnight, and they were looking tired, but I was still well up for more drinking. The bar was fairly heaving, as Ted's is inclined to do, and so I decided this was the perfect opportunity to let them go home and have some time alone to fuck, or fight, or whatever they needed to do that they couldn't while I was appropriating their sofa. So I stayed out, hung out with a heap of random folk, played loads of pool and ended up going back to Takapuna for the weekend. Spent most of it lounging around in pajamas, watching films, and eating popcorn and chicken. Class.

By this point I had been looking for work for about two weeks, and was getting incredibly frustrated by the complete lack of contact from ANY of the places I inquired with or applied to. Bloody kiwis are just too laid back, I swear. This frustration, my rapidly diminishing funds and the perpetual 'getting in everyone's way' feeling were taking it in turns at getting me down, sometimes throwing in a sneaky wee tag team for good measure. Luckily, within days of reaching a real low slump, I heard back from two jobs offering interviews. One in Auckland, part time with Spaceships camper rentals, and one in Wellington doing full time mental health support work in a residential home. Couldn't really be faced with more different prospects! So I did the Spaceships interview, and then drove to Wellington for the other one two days later. Reading that back, it sounds very blasé, driving from Auckland to Wellington and back in the space of three days. It isn't, you know. It's 410 miles each way, a good eight or nine hours drive. And some of the most spectacular scenery on the planet, really amazing - especially along the Desert Road. On a good day, it's breathtaking. On a bad one, it's deadly.

I'd actually been down in Wellington four weeks earlier with Sarah for the Summerset Festival in the Basin Reserve, and we spent a few days hanging out there. I really love that city actually, it has such a vibrant, buzzy feeling. Cuba Street is one of my favourite places - packed full of second hand book and music shops, cafes and pubs. Oh, and the bucket fountain! I am really very fond of that thing. Here it is...

It collects water which slowly trickles down to fill the buckets. As they fill, they tip and then fill the ones below them in turn. Welly is a particularly windy spot, and on a gusty day you are pretty much guaranteed to get soaked on your way past. It always makes me chuckle, the creaky clunky noises it makes, and people getting wet and shrieking.

So yes anyway, I went down and did the interview, and felt pretty good about the whole thing. Three days later, Spaceships offered me the part time job in Auckland, and Wellink offered me the support work. Up until that point, it had been a no-brainer of a choice, and in fact at that stage it was very nearly down to 'who can pay me quicker?'. But when I was finally faced with options, it suddenly became very difficult to choose. I mean, on paper, I don't even like Auckland. It is a big businessy hole, mostly devoid of creativity or character, filled with a sense of its own sense of self importance. The job was only offering part time hours, which wasn't enough to support myself. So why the hell wasn't I just going to Wellington? Well, I hadn't spent any proper time with Kate since I arrived, not time that we were spending together out of choice anyway. There were some other people knocking about up here I'd hardly seen or not seen at all, and for some stupid, unfathomable reason, I kind of wanted to stay up here for a while. And when it came to the work, I had begun to seriously consider what I really wanted to do with my time here. Responsibility free was kind of appealing to me, and the support work wasn't really my cup of tea in this case - it was almost more like respite care work, than trying to work with mental health needs in the community.

And then I heard from Maree, who offered me an interview the next day - I had also applied to Jucy Rentals, and they had full time hours going. This gave me an opportunity to have the decision making be someone else's problem. I resolved that if Jucy offered me the job, I would stay, and if they didn't, I would go to Welly. The next few days were fucking tense. It is a very odd feeling, knowing that in a matter of hours, you will know the course that your time away is going to take.

You know what, I am bored of this as I am typing it. I will finish this later. To follow: Flathunting, The Railway Campus, Jucy and the characters I am hanging out with at both.


Other things of note:

• The weed. Man, the weed! Exision, Silver Mt Zion, Devendra Banhart. Face tingles.
• International cooking nights.
• The bag of bags for pool.
• alkali hands and lizard skin.

*Its a cool wee place, a converted apartment over the top of a garage, a fairly unique sort of affair if I ever saw one. Thing is, it REALLY isn't suitable for longer term co-habiting of the platonic variety. Their bedroom wasn't so much behind a wall as a piece of cardboard, which tried very hard to be a wall but mostly failed on account of it's not reaching the ceiling. So effectively, Kate, Cathal and I shared a big room for a month.

There are Rockstars in my House.

S'Funny how decisions you make years ago subtely affect happenings today. Approximately 4 years ago, Peedy and I were moving into Orangefield Avenue. Could have been anywhere else. But because we ended up in that house, that is now where Phil Hill (Teen Idols, Screeching Weasel, Even in Blackouts, The Queers and more) is staying. See, the lovely Jemima who has moved in with Jo in my absence is now playing bass for the Teen Idols who have an upcoming tour. And so Phil is living in my bedroom, in Orangefield Avenue, while teaching the set to Mima. Which he wouldn't be doing if it weren't for my Five Years In the Past self. Well, I mean he would, but not in that house.

The best bit about this is that it took Jo a wee while to twig who the guy in Jemima's band that welcomed her home from Singapore actually was. She asked him if he was a full time rock star. I love Jo.

Other things of note:

• 'Are you going to see the ducks in the park?' or Blackbird.
• A drinking chocolate - related asthma attack that resulted in near death.
• Cathal McDonagh is very bad at cards because he never learned as a child how to hustle.

Here in Body, But the Soul is Slow to Catch Up

After my Job Search Assault on Queen St and K'Road yesterday which involved a lot of 'here mate, got any jobs?' and filling out of application forms, I sort of lost momentum a bit today and got a bit reflective on it. Both Cathal and Kate are working today, so I have had a lot of alone time. I had the best intentions of focusing on Newmarket and Broadway in the Great Job Hunt today, but instead I woke up late, groggy and thoroughly underwhelmed with the propect of the trek. It was a beautiful day until an hour ago, but I barely managed to get out of the house.

I still feel far too connected to Belfast. I often find myself calculating the time there and thinking things like 'I'd probably just be coming off shift now...' or 'I'd be all tangled up in my duvet with Purry Mason' before catching myself on because that is not my job anymore and that bed and its room now belong to someone else. Its my fault really, because I didn't feel that at all during the wedding and the few weeks surrounding it. Probably because of the dearth of internet in cow country. Now that I have broadband access again, I've been wild good at using it - not that that in itself is the bad thing, I have applied for buckets of jobs and things. Its just that I can't resist the temptation to find out what I would have been doing if I were at home. I'm confident that once I can get stuck into work somewhere, anywhere, I can shake it off and properly throw myself into this, because I feel like I'm only half here at the minute and thats not what I want. Its not that I'm unhappy either, I really like being here. I just need to find my niche.

Jamie and Karina were through Auckland last night on their way to Fiji, and called to see if I'd be up for a drink. I just happened to know that it was also Karina's birthday (thankyou, Facebook) and having just had a birthday in limited familiar company myself, thought I should mark the occasion somehow. I brought her a card, a wee muffin that looked like a miniature cake and some party fodder - a ballon, poppers and the like. On my way over the Grafton bridge to meet them, I began to think about human achievements and knowledge, what we in the 'Western world' consider to be 'civilisation'. I looked down into the gully and saw the roads, and cars, and the machines on the bridge that are working on its refurbishment, and thought again of how knowledge is passed between humans. If the current population of the world were only able to function on things they have achieved or deduced or produced themselves, what would the world look like? It is amazing that the ability to produce fire at will once eluded the species, and that now we do it constantly with little thought to how it came to be that we can. And this is a skill has been passed from people to people for thousands of years. Its almost like we are born with a ready made skill set if we are only willing to listen to those trying to teach us. Thats what I'm talking about, I suppose. Education. Or socialisation. Isn't that just social education though?

I need to stop thinking and get out.

Other things of note:

• Isaac Brock has written some fucking awesome lyrics.
• I sewed something today. Fixed some straps on a dress.
• I have a bite on my leg, I don't know who is responsible but if i find them I will cause their downfall by squashing.
• Money does not make you happy, but it enables you to do things that do much more easily than when you don't have any.
• Steve Martin and Geena Davis are members of Mensa
  

My New Thing is Listening To Music in the Dark

I had been sleeping more than is strictly necessary while Kate was on her night duty - we were pretty much keeping the same hours except while she was working, I was out gallivanting. Because she was day sleeping to make up for night shift, I felt completely vindicated in my own sleeping in, which was probably outrageous, but sure.

The past few days have been slow to get going in the mornings because I have become even lazier in my unemployment, which has potential to become the awful vicious circle of apathy I was so accustomed to working with at home. We have been watching some films (Half Nelson - what a show, really loved that one) and listening to music, and last night we went snowboarding. Now that was some craic indeed! Snow Planet is an indoor artificial venue for snow sports, but rather than a shitty auld dry slope, they actually make their own snow which makes them very cool indeed. Literally. Its like -5 degrees in there.

I spent the past few afternoons applying for tons of support work style jobs online, all over the North Island. At this point I have decided that I really will go wherever the job comes up, because I am really not attached to Auckland at all except that Kate and Cathal are here. I may have a Night & Weekend Manager job lined up in Rotorua in a couple of months, but in the meantime I have been out all day today scoping out quick fix jobs - book shops, second hand clothes, music shops, that sort of thing. Some of them had vacancies which I applied for, and I've emailed a load of CVs out today too. Now, if they could just hurry up and realise that they need me to start immediately, that would be lovely.

Last night I discovered that one of my favourite things to do is lie in the dark with my earphones in and listen to music loudly. When you deprive yourself of a sense, they say the others are meant to sharpen to compensate. I don't know if that counts in the very short term, but I was defintely much more tuned into the nuances of what I was listening to, and had a real blissed out chilled drop-off to sleep. Nice.

Other things of note:

• I am a google monster. Just try and slip a new fact past me. I WILL check it if its in any way interesting to me.
• I now have a New Zealand bank account. Just no money to put in it.
• The chair I am sitting on is definitely going to disintegrate while I am sitting on it some day soon.
  

Well!

This month has been crazy busy with the wedding and accompanying jollifications, a lot of North Island touring, surfing, spa-ing, horseriding, drinking and has largely been without substantial internet access, hence my complete failure in the 'Recording My Life For Posterity's Sake' stakes. I have been making scribblings of phrases and ticklings as I go, and I will sit down to collate them when I feel like I can do them some form of justice. I promise.

So anyway, today is my birthday (and therefore also my brother Andrew's - happy birthday, bro!), and unfortunately my Jones couldn't get off her weekend night duty, which sucks but can't be helped. I'm staying with her and Cathal until I get some income sorted - the job search begins to get aggressive on Monday! Cathal and I are gonna head to the Thirsty Dog on K'Road tonight to see a Finnish band, I Walk the Line, who I incidentally saw in Auntie Annie's a few years back. Of course, I had no inkling at that stage that I'd ever see them again, never mind that it would be in Auckland and I'd be living there. That sort of thought always leads me to wonder what sorts of things I'm completely unaware of right now - if Future Me could come back and tell Present Me one important thing that I am going to do, or some special event i'm going to be part of, what would it be?

Anyway.

Other things of note:

• I am quite contentedly drinking (cans of) Guinness from a Bertoli jar, which makes me stupidly happy.
• Put your mike to the mouthrophone, bro!
• I really enjoy being clean.
• Posting things is fun.
  

Have Love, Will Travel

The last few days have been amongst the longest of my life. In fact, it just felt like one big, fuckity, mahooosive day. Left the house at 11am on Tuesday 31st March, and arrived in Auckland on April 2nd at 7.10am local time. The second flight, from Heathrow to Hong Kong, had the potential to feature the worst 12 or so hours of my life due to the in-flight entertainment system malfunctioning for the ENTIRE flight. Luckily, I was sitting beside a lovely couple who were travelling to Hanoi to meet their brand new grandson for the first time. Their son has been living there for ages and has set up a charity working with street children which sounds like it could be a potential opportunity for me if I get round to coming back through South East Asia on my way home as I have been hoping.

On finally reaching Auckland, I eventually got through passport control, baggage collection (after a good 20 minutes of watching the same two suitcases lazily make their way round and round the carousel) and customs/biohazard checking to find that the weather was glorious. Score! I was feeling surprisingly good at this stage and resolved just to stay up all day and try to do a quick reset of the old body clock by sleeping when I am meant to. I seem to have been somewhat successful too; I really don't feel too bad at all, considering.

Yesterday afternoon I met Kate, which I had been looking forward too for so long. She and Cathal are living in a converted garage off Kyhber Pass, which is a really nice space. Hilarious to find an empty Bertoli jar in her sink, all rinsed out and ready for a Guinness. Although it didn't know it was ready for Guinness at that stage, I made sure it learned quickly. We headed down to the Dog's Bollix on K Road that night to a gig that Cathal was doing sound for, where I got one fairly decent pint of the black stuff, and one that I wouldn't expect any human to drink. Really, really boggin' like. Swapped it for a Monteith's, sharpish. Highlight of the night - Gay McDonagh winning the $200 tattoo voucher in the raffle that I had my eye on - a highlight because she just might use it! Ha. Lisa was also playing a gig in the Wine Cellar that I would have loved to try and make it down for, but by the time we got sorted in the Bollix, it was kind of late. I did manage to catch her afterwards quickly, and I'm sure we'll get meeting up properly soon enough.

I have now managed to get a NZ mobile number sorted (+64 21 0657723), and almost instantly lost my UK sim card. Pain in the arse - I can still see texts I receive to that number on o2 bluebook, but can't use my free texts to home. We now have the weekend to hang out in Auckland before heading down the Hamilton and therabouts until the end of next week for Katie and Mikey's wedding. Big dinner tomorrow - my Dad and Jo, Kate, Cathal and both their sets of parents (who are incidentally meeting for the first time - eeeek). Considering an early, sober(ish) night tonight. Seems sensible. Losing. Ability. Form. Sentences.....

Other things of note:

• Really need to get to the post shop.
• 'Cazi', the drummer of a shit band in the Bollix. Only in profile, mind.

Deep Breath,

Last post from home soil, purely to mark the fact that the next one will be alllll the way down there. Hyperventilating slightly.

Oh. My. Fuck.

Tomorrow is the Big Day then. Feeling fairly nervy today. Down to my last quick load of washing and then I'll be properly fully completely totally packed. eeeeek.

Over the weekend, I went out for dinner with my Shrub, which was brilliant to fit in. We went to La Tasca and had some really tasty tapas and a yum big jug of sangria, before toddling on up to Katy's for a couple of pints. We ended up going back to mine and sitting up most of the night watching music on Youtube, and drinking straight Pincer vodka, which is much nicer than it sounds. That was also my last night sleeping in my bed because as of yesterday, it is now the lovely Jemima's bed. I spent it rather more spread eagled than usual because it was probably my last double bed experience for a while.

Then last night I managed to fit in one last pool session in Lavery's, with some friendly folk I managed to miss on Friday night. Cazi and I had eaten beforehand in the public bar and headed up pretty early, where I played what may well be the worst series of games of pool ever witnessed. It was almost like I was doing it on purpose to be funny, but I really fucking wasn't. Although it was funny. So, feeling faintly ridiculous, I just kept playing. Eventually I got my mojo back to a respectable level, saving me the shame of playing like a COMPLETE twat all evening.

Today, I just want to be gone already.

Other things of note:

• Things beyond your ken
• BelFest 2000
• Suck my bloodhole/love passage
• He is a venereal root
• Chights for fleap
• With or Without You on the way back up the stairs.
  

A Blast From the Past and My Last Friday in Lavery's For a While

This Thursday, the Killing Spree (last seen circa 2005) reformed to play a one off fundraiser in the Empire along with Ablespacer, Pocket Billiards and LaFaro. Brilliant, brilliant gig. The place was packed out, there was a great atmosphere and the Guinness was a-flowing! I was mighty impressed that the KS were so tight, considering that as Bernard lives in London, they didn't exactly get a lot of prep time beforehand, but they sounded immense. Got catching up with plenty of folk too - ended up having another ridiculous Buckfast and Beer session at And So I Watch You From LaFaro towers, although this time managed to refrain from boking in the sink. Go me.

Stumbled home after 9am in the sunlight, and crawled into bed until about 16.30. Felt very ropey indeed. Then trooped on down to Lavery's to meet up with as many friends and family as I could muster for 'Seeya Later' pints- it turns out that thats quite a crowd! It was great to see so many people out, a lot of whom didn't know each other at all, having a bit of craic. It took me a fair while to get going, but a quick bowl of chips and a sneaky wee boke sorted me right out eventually.

Other things of note:

• Pigeon fingers - cats are just wee monsters with bits of bird stuck under their claws.
  
• Jo and Dad left for Hong Kong this morning. This all feels very surreal still. Bit emotional today.
  
• Dyed my hair out of boredom, it is pretty red. I like it.
  

Just Another Manic Monday...

...Although this one is a clear contender for the 'Most Surreal Night of My Life Award' for sure.

The lovely lovely Dave Magee had offered me his plus one spot to the Snow Patrol gig on Monday evening (thanks Dave!). Now, I am hardly what you'd call a Snow Patrol 'fan', and seeing them twice in the same weekend for free is verging on the ridiculous, but sure. All of the LaFaro boys were heading down, and some of the Lowly Knights were singing backup for Iain Archer again so I was well up for a few jars. So we collect our tickets, toddle on round the front only to be told we can't get in that way, and that our VIP box was accesible by the next door round. VIP? Sweeeeeet... We find our hospitality box and immediately spy a fully stocked booze fridge. Unfortunately, it has a padlock on it. Ah well. We did have our very own waitress to bring us our pints though.

Fast forward through the gig, some schmoozing in the Odyssey aftershow bar and the Stiff Kitten after party, all of which were mighty enough craic for sure. Plenty of chat, dancing and much drinking. We ended up going round to Malmaison to Snow Patrol's plush suite - it had a frickin pool table in it. I really wish I had thought to take a photo of the part when Duke Special provided a rest for Cazi's cue for his shot on the black. With his own contorted body. Awesome. managed to get some game in myself - doubles, Me and Lightbody vs Caswell and David Healy. Honestly.


Not a mad fan of the phrase, but this definitely warrants an 'Ah, Funtimes indeed.'.

Other nominees for the award include that time I was at a party in Wellington Park, after we had been kicked out of another flat in Malone Avenue at 10am (the neighbours actually turned off the electricity in the building to shut us up). I was having a reflective moment, sitting on the floor cradling my bottle of Buck. I looked up and realised that Phil Hartnoll was sitting on the sofa, in a red kilt (no underwear by this stage, he had flung his red thong about the room earlier on), and on the wall behing him was an Orbital poster. I wish I had had my camera at that moment.

Then there was the time I was on the doorstep of the same house in Wellington Park waiting for everyone else to arrive. I think we had been in Auntie Annie's for somthing, and Therapy? had been doinf a DJ set afterwards. Andy Cairns is the next person to show up at the flat. I roll him a joint.

Other things of note:

• I had a triumphant day. Everything I want to bring fits in my backpack. Hurrah!
• Jemima is the new me in the house.
  
• The Wire stands up to repeat viewing.
• 'Oh, the Places You'll Go!' - thanks Ciaran X
• My last Boojum?
  

A Good Weekend

Friday night, I had originally planned to stuff in a double feature in the cinema with Cazi, who has sort of become my Cinema Person since Kate left - 'The Age of Stupid" first at the QFT followed by a quick hoof down the road to the Movie House for 'The Watchmen'. Instead, he offered me one of the Knight's passes to the Odyssey for the second of Snow Patrol's four shows there. This was especially cool because Cashier No.9 were supporting, and it was great to see some friends play such an important gig. A few of us managed to pretty much drink our way through a few dressing rooms, and ended up hanging out at a party until the birds began to sing again. Ouch.

On to the rugby. The last three matches of the Six Nations - Italy v France, England v Scotland and the Big One, Ireland v Wales. Kind of dozed off on the sofa during the second match, but managed to pull it together for IRELAND WINNING THE GRAND SLAM, EYYYYYYO! In true Irish rugby fashion, it was by no means a walk in the park, and came down the the last kick, a failed Welsh penalty from deep in the pitch. Sadly, the adrenaline just wasn't enough to keep me going, and I totally failed at going out. In hindsight, probably not a bad thing because I am still wrecked today. Am I beginning to lost the knack of this partying lark? I certainly fucking hope not...

Headed down to the Black Market today, saw a few folk and had a wee snoop around the stalls, then headed up to Moneyrea to see my Mum. At one point I had a wee wobbly lip moment when I was talking to her. I've asked her not to come to the airport with me when I am leaving because I don't think I will be able to deal with a big goodbye then - it was hard enough doing it with Kate when she went, but at least she had me with her then. I can't think of anything worse than breaking down in the airport, and then having to take three flights across the world (taking up the best part of two days) feeling miserable, which is exactly what will happen. So, I'm planning on doing the goodbyes on Monday, and taking a taxi over on Tuesday. Is this normal? I don't care, its just how I'm going to be able to cope.

All of these goodbyes looming are starting to really weigh me down, they are all coming so quickly.

Other things of note:

• Jade Goody died this morning, Mother's Day. Very sad, very quick, but I know I'm not alone in hoping that this raises the profile of cervical cancer awareness. Its a horrible disease, but almost completely preventable with the right screening.
• Miguel martin's £1 surprise art card tree. Awesome.
• Ludacris. Ha.
• I have sore legs.
  

Google Street View

Google street view was launched in some UK cities yesterday, Belfast being one of them. I consequently lost a large proportion of my day to virtually wandering around a city I have mostly already wandered around, a lot, in real life. Strangely exhilarating, and I'm sure I will appreciate being able to do so from New Zealand when I'm feeling far away.

For example, here is my house one sunny day last year. I must have been out, no car.


View Larger Map

I know for a fact I was definitely out on a street one day, with someone, when the car came by. I just can't for the life of me remember where I was, or who I was with. I have a feeling it was somewhere residential, and that I was stopped for some reason. Tying a shoelace? Possibly. Maybe someday I'll stumble across myself on the Newtowards Rd or something. More than likely, I won't.

Other things of note:

• I have come to accept that I will probably not see my house clean and tidy again before I leave, because I am certainly not going to fucking do it ALL again, alone, when very little of it is my muck. This gives me a heavy, sad sort of feeling in my belly. I hate my house dirty.

I Keep Thinking it's Friday

It's not, it's Thursday. Yesterday was Wednesday, and a particularly beautifully sunny one it was. Seeing as Tuesday was St Patrick's day though, I'd better start off there.

I got up and headed into town for 11.15am to meet the parade at City Hall as Jo, Rachel and myself were on float-pushing duty. They got the one with Breag on it, I got Gulliver with the Bohdron. Good craic had by all.

We then took ourselves and our hard earned cash to the Cloth Ear. I had a great stew, and one of Jo's mussels. Delicious. At some stage, we decided we should go and get tattoos, but when skinworks was closed we got distracted when we ran into Ricky and instead went to Made In Belfast to sit on their big comfy sofa and discuss their wide range of assorted cushions. We then managed to catch the second half of the School's Cup Final in Auntie Annie's (oh dear Inst, hang your heads in shame...), where the friend handover occurred as Rachel headed on and I ran into Sarah and Jonny. This set in motion the second act of the day, with much Guinness, tattoo planning with Majury and eventual relocation to Katy Daly's. I narrowly avoided a black eye during one phase of ridiculous dancing when I received an elbow to the ocular socket. Eventually, I ended up back at someone's flat until they all fell asleep and I left to phone a taxi. At 5am. In what looked like a supernatural fog that was probably hiding Stephen King-esque Cthulu type beasts.

In contrast to my relative good behaviour, the Holylands went completely fucking insane. QUB really need to grow a set of balls and deal with this. How anyone can be expected to live there is beyond me, and I certainly wouldn't ever live in the Queen's area ever again.

I somehow managed to have less than half the hangover I fully deserved the next day, dragged myself out of bed to go for lunch with Dad. It was gloriously sunny, and I realised I was appreciating it all the more as I was beginning to think that I'd miss the first nice day of the year. Brilliant!

Other things of note:

• I now have a terabyte of external storage. Eyo.
• I am now practically debt free for leaving, which is a huge relief.
• This beautiful sleeve. Stunning.
  

Fin. Next!

On Saturday, I hit the pub early for the Rugby with the Hosford lot. When I say 'Hosford lot', take the 'lot' part literally - I was so pleased that so many friends from work, past and present, came out to say goodbye. Of course, I had a wee cry. And Ireland won.

Unfortunately, it seems I have no peers at (ex)work who can match my drinking stamina (booooo that), and they all rolled home before 12. I, however, went on down to Lavery's and had a whole other night out with a whole other set of friends. Saw Cutaways, played some pool, drank some Buckfast, hung out with some friends I hadn't seen in ages and rocked up home for 3am. I couldn't seem to get my key to work in the front door and ended up climbing in a window - with hindsight, I'm lucky not to have broken my neck!

Then on Sunday I went down to the Holi Festival in St George's Market with Jo, and met up with Rachel down there just in time to play with the colours in the arena. I haven't had as much fun in ages - apparently all I need is some loud bhangra music, some coloured paint powder and a few hundred strangers to get over a wretched hangover. The hot Spanish men on the paella stall didn't hurt either, to be fair.
There is something incredibly liberating about the whole experience, feeling unfamiliar hands on your face smearing colours all over, and returning the favour, watching people smiling with their big painty happy faces. I'd do it every day if I could.

Afterwards, Rach and I went round to ikon in the Black Box. The theme was 'Thrown Together', and the whole experience was very reflective, lots of silence. It all felt very relevant to me personally - I thought a lot about recording moments and experiences, how I have traditionally been very lazy that way, how I am making an effort to change that. The very existence of this blog is testament to that. I wondered why I feel compelled to do this now, what is the value of a written or visual record of a moment as long as I have my memory? Maybe I'm afraid I will forget. I don't even have an answer. I'm hoping to experience a lot of being 'thrown together' while I am away, fleeting human contact, transient moments that I can't recreate. I want to make sure I will always have them.

The thing I am avoiding the most now is packing away all the crap I'm leaving behind. I'm going to try and throw a lot of it out, I'm sure I don't need any of it. I do want to get it out of the way sooner rather than later, it would be great to get it all done so I don't have to think about it. Today though, I have updated my CV and started to properly look out jobs. Money is the only part of going away I am still considerably apprehensive about.

Endings, But Not Beginnings Just Yet

Tonight has seen me enter the limbo of having finished work, but not quite leaving the country just yet. I held up better than I had expected, although a tear may have escaped on the short drive home despite my best efforts. It was a shift containing most elements of what Hosford is about - eating more chocolate than can possibly be healthy, not managing to meet with residents I should really be meeting because they aren't in, asking someone to leave and then having to arrange a police 'escort' to get them out of the building, a fit of histrionics, a few tenancy offers and a fair amount of reading the news. And then reading it again. One thing I didn't realise I'd forgotten until just now, though - I did not play my ceremonial final game of pool. Oh well.

I'm really looking forward to tomorrow, which is my Official Leaving Work Piss Up. I'm trying to gather as many of the Hosford lot together as I can so we can install ourselves upstairs in the Errigle to watch the rugby all day in the company of pints and pies. Tomorrow is, after all, International Pi Day.

I really can't compute that I won't be at the staff meeting on Monday. Shit, just realised I also forgot to clear out my pigeon hole. Shit.

Other things of note:

• That one will come to a sticky end...
  

Ah, the Inevitable Neglect

This was going to happen, really. I haven't got a great track record for keeping these things up. 'Must Try Harder'.

Various things have happened this week, too; I spent an evening in the company of two old school friends playing catch up with some bottles of fizz, which was brilliant. Unfortunately the same night, we were thrust back into the 90's with the news of a dissident republican attack at the Massarene barracks in Antrim which resulted in the deaths of two young soldiers.

Then on Monday, I toodled along to the Ulster Hall for the first time in years. I actually can't remember what I was there for last. Anyway, a plethora of local talent had been harvested for the occasion, each to play one of their own songs and a cover of a track by a band they themselves have had the pleasure of seeing in the Hall. I had the pleasure of knowing a fair few of those involved in acts performing, which makes me simultaneously swell with pride and feel like a big talentless lump. I particularly enjoyed The Lowly Knights (splendid version of The Divine Comedy's 'Something for the Weekend'), Cashier No 9, Foy Vance, The Panama Kings (great cover of Ash's 'A Life Less Ordinary'), FWW/Jetplane Landing, and Neil Hannon who made my cheeks hurt from smiling at his rendition of the Pixie's 'Gigantic'.

Segue to arriving home to the news that a PSNI officer had been shot dead in Craigavon. I mean, fuck. Aren't we done with this crap? I did, however, take heart from seeing Peter Robinson, Martin McGuinness and Hugh Orde stand together on the steps of Stormont to condemn the attacks together - if they are going to provoke any reaction, a show of political solidarity like this is a refreshing first for Northern Ireland, rather than a thoughtless reactionary Loyalist hit-back. In the days following these awful killings, there have been reports of bomb scares, car searches, funerals; all the muck we used to be accustomed to. I only hope that this is as bad as it gets, and that we can all be fucking adult about this. Deep breaths, everyone...

And most excitingly, my friend Bethany gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, Milo Robert Bradley. I can't wait to meet him - I have been moderately broody since being introduced to a Service User's 4 day old, 3 week premature daughter in work last week. So tiny, and perfect, helpless and hopelessly dependent. Babies are amazing, incomprehensible, perfect beings. Please don't fret though, I am entirely happy hogging cuddles with other people's babies for now.

Other things of note:

• 'Roast me a chicken and give me a bubble bath'
• If you put a pillow on him, he will go to sleep
• CC - 'Right, there are too many people in this office.' CL - 'Byee'
• I miss toilet paper
• 'Dammit, I'm just so complex'

...

I really, truly just don't have anything intelligent to say just yet. Or even just anything, even. Still digesting this and its consequences. Absolute disappointment, disgust, sadness.


Fuck.

My Favourite Poem?

He Wishes For the Cloths of Heaven

HAD I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

W B Yeats

Just Wondering

Is it a waste of valuable time to reread a book? I don't think I think so, but I still feel guilty sometimes for revisiting the familiar volumes when I could be getting round to the heaps of unread ones I have lying around. There is just something really comforting about reading something that I know I love. I could just be having a wee ponder, and will remember from nowhere the story, or style, or even just a phrase (most likely paraphrase, I am terrible with specifics) from something I read years ago and will feel compelled to hunt it out and do it again. It could be something my P5 teacher read to the class in installments the best part of 20 years ago - I once had to search frantically for a copy of The Eagle of the Ninth by Rosemary Sutcliffe just to sate my appetite for Primary School nostalgia material.

It frustrates me that I can't seem to find the time to get round to the new stuff when all it takes is a glance at the cover of an old favourite and I am bound to read the whole thing - and probably manage it in record time.

Other things of note:

• Dingleberries. Not what you think.
  
• "All beauty must die"
• Getting packages in the post is lovely

Edit - Completely incidentally, just found out that today was World Book Day. Would love to say I knew all along and posted this to be topical, but alas no.

These Posts May Not Always Have Titles in the Future. Naming Them Can be Tedious.

Today has mostly been spend fretting about money, as I really thought about how much I am going to need whilst away in some detail. Not a terrible lot I can be doing about that now anyway, except win the lottery. And as a colleague kindly pointed out to me the other day, one really needs to buy a ticket to be in with any chance of winning, however slim.

This did prompt me to check the state of my bank account today though, which I do shamefully infrequently. When I looked at my Visa to check if a recent payment had gone through, I noticed a debit of £4.99 had come out which was marked 'microsoft'. Eh? After some more sleuthing and chatting to fairly unhelpful call centre staff, all I managed to discover was that these payments have been coming out for quite some time without me noticing, with the odd extra one for good measure. I have absolutely no clue what they might be, but would have added up to a nice going away bonus if they hadn't disappeared... Going to have to go in to the branch to sort this one.

Other things of note:

• Trypophobia. I believe I may be trypophobic. More on this later...
• Spam telling me 'Your sister is in danger'. Think I'd rather have 'Wish you had lager breasts?' or 'a hot jackhammer rocked the hell out of minnie'
• '#fun fun fun 'til her Daddy takes the Clio away#'
• Potluck wedding

Another Day, Another Dollar

Today I have done nothing of consequence yet really. Went to work, did the crossword (needed some help with 11 across), chased some baby hoodlums who were intent on playing football in the car park, came home. Oh, cancelled my Sky subscription, that was sort of consequential I suppose. And symbolic, too - the first thing I have cancelled. What a horrible concept. Cancelling my life here. Ick.

I just had a conversation with someone there that made me feel like crap actually. He was asking how long I had left to go here, all the usual, and I told him. Finishing my job next week - which effectively leaves me unemployed for the first time ever, tying up loose ends, seeing people for potentially the last time in I don't even know how long etc, and that all of this was making me feel really sad actually. He replied "My God, you don't know how good you have it!". It was just a throwaway comment, but it upset me. I realised how ungrateful I must be sounding lately, which makes me feel like a real shit. Most people never get this opportunity and all I seem to be doing is yap about it. So I have resolved to try my best to suck it up and get on with it. We'll see how that goes...

Other things of note:

• colloquial arabic, now ready for collection at the Holywood Road Library
• fricking cool

The Weekend, in brief.

Another weekend mostly fueled by 6 nations rugby (unsatisfactory games, but the right results), Guinness, films (The Princess Bride and Che:Part 2) and good company. This right here is what I will miss - low key, unplanned, inexpensive and craic aplenty.

This weekend also brought the end of February and the beginning of my final month in this hemisphere. Sniff. Still alternating between being very zen about the whole thing because it doesn't really feel real, and completely freaking out. Leaning more towards the freaking out as time marches on though. Marches, through March. Geddit? I do love a bit of word play, me.

Other things of note:

• "Cushenan on your Bum Shoulders"
• The Twins and Pravo Jazdy
• The Lion who looks like he is at a press conference

Morning Rage

I heard a Big Crash from downstairs this morning while I was groggily brushing my teeth, but didn't think much of it so continued to brush my teeth. See, Big Crashes aren't particularly unusual occurrences in my house, what with the two un-familially related, perpetually warring (neutered) male cats that live with me who really enjoy their wrestling practice.

So when I eventually sauntered down the stairs, I was gripped with a violent rage when I discovered that one of the little darlings had pulled my GHD straighteners from the table where I had left them to cool down, and landed them on the newly installed tiled kitchen floor. Evidently, if one pits a tiled kitchen floor against an expensive ceramic hair straightener, kitchen floor wins.

At this point in time, I am becoming aware that my plan of saving money for NZ has failed spectacularly, so the death of this particular personal item has been the source of much chagrin. I mean, I am not renowned for spending much time on my personal grooming, but such that is mostly requires that I have a set of straighteners that work. They pretty much HAVE to be replaced.

Hence my rage.

Looking forward to the Wales v France rugby this evening, though.

(Also, aren't I doing well, posting 2 days in a row?)

Cleaning Up

So, I am hoping to use this blog to document what I get up to during my time away from Belfast, starting with New Zealand. When I am doing things, any things, I tend to get all caught up with the actual doing of them. As a result, I am terrible about storing memories (pretty good at doing this with meeting people, less good with the doing of stuff) or taking photos, that sort of lark, so if I can record it here, even in the most boring things in the most cursory way, I know I will appreciate it later. Too many commas in that sentence? Oh well.

I am also stupidly lazy and so will try to start now to get into the habit.

.........

This week I have been mostly sporadically freaking out about leaving because it feels very soon, but also because I don't know when I will be back. I was booking cinema tickets for this Sunday (Che: Part 2, quite excited about that) the other morning, and in the process realized that Sunday is the 1st of March. My flight is the 31st. That feels very very soon. Very very very soon. This is all at once incredibly exciting and overwhelming and I have a very intense sense of sadness. I am very aware of how much I love living in Belfast at the minute but at the same time (too many 'very's in this sentence? Swivel), I'm also aware that this is probably because I have known that I would be going for the past 6 months and so have been enjoying everything so much more. Anyway, I know these things are all completely natural. It just doesn't make it any easier to think about leaving behind the people and places and experiences that I love.

On the other hand, I spoke to my Jones the other morning, and I can't fucking wait to see her!

So, yesterday and today I had this feeling in work that I didn't want to go home. When spent some time thinking about it, it became clear to me that this is because my house is a FUCKING PIGSTY. I came home and cleaned. I love having a clean house, sadly it just isn't very often that it is. This is a sorry result of the combination of my chronic laziness and the fact that I live with my sister, who is equally as bone idle. If not more so.

I am currently taking a Guinness break. I feel like I deserve it.

And so it begins. Ostensibly.

"You want to know your future, love? Then wait..."