If I was young I'd flee this town, I've buried my dreams underground.

I found out at about 5 o'clock on Tuesday that Beirut were playing in Dublin at 8 o'clock that same day, and was completely devestated at the prospect of missing it. When I asked around as to why NO ONE TOLD ME everyone said 'well I presumed you knew!'. I didn't let it faze me however, and myself and a friend who I shall call Candy Warhol made our way to Tripod armed with a lot of hope and some faith that fate would come through for us. There were quite a few people standing around looking at each other shiftily, not wanting to make eye contact in any sort of friendly manner in case a ticket came along and you had to push them out of the way/slap them. It was getting closer and closer to Beirut O'clock and we were obviously looking quite desolate because a blond guy wearing a nerdy/cool blue and white checked shirt and smoking a rollie who was walking past in a group of similarly Brooklyn-trendy looking people slowed down and said 'Hey, are you guys looking for tickets?'. I replied with a very cool 'eh..yes!'. 'Oh thats cool, just say you're (name blank in case I get him in trouble!) on the guest list plus one'. Once again I was the picture of laid back appreciation as I stumbled over the words 'oh my god...thank you...thank you so much' and tried to contain my ridiculous happiness. With a brief awkward smile and a 's'cool' our knight in shining armour was gone. For now. We made our way to the front of the crowd so as to have a good view of the band and lovely Zach Condon, lead singer of Beirut and, apparently, cat owner (I read an interview with him in which he talked about his cat, which made his lovely status shoot up at least 9 points). When they walked on, we were surprised to see that our check-shirted friend was none other than Beirut's trumpet player!
They played up a storm, opening with Nantes, the song that made me fall in love with Beirut/Zach in the first place. The musicians were amazing, and Zach's singing was even better in real life, spineshiveringly soulful and different. They played all my favourites as well as a some new ones. As he came back on stage for his second encore, Zach leaned into the mic to confess that last time he 'stumbled his way through Hallelujah'. When the crowd roared its approval he ran his hand through his hair and half laughed 'not again. I'm not so good with other peoples songs'.



It was such a great gig, it honestly made me ridiculously happy, and it lasted for about 2 days afterwards.

The unexpected dose of happiness came at the right time, as the rolling around of the 28th of August marked the official end of my Sarah Lawrence dreams. I still cry every time I get post from them. But it was not to be. It was a hard lesson to learn that no matter how much you want something, or how hard you try, sometimes it just doesn't work out.

After wallowing in a pool of broken dreams for a few weeks, I had to get my act together and formulate some new high hopes so I decided I wanted to go to New York anyway on the 1 year work/internship visa available to Irish students and try to take a 10 week novel writing course at NYU at the same time.

On a happier note, I am now the proud owner of a Nikon D40 :) I had been saving up to buy an SLR for a while, and whilst in York I had used my friends D40 and loved it, so when some birthday kindness meant I had enough to buy one, I started looking around. The D40 isn't being made anymore so I was looking for a 2nd hand one, and I had a few incidents where sales clerks said 'You don't want that old one! For only 400e more you can buy this D3000! LOOK, new and shiny!' but my heart was set and I just sadly shook my head. Finally, my lovely friend Paul directed me to Conns Cameras where they had one in stock and the rest is history. I named it Paul after Paul. It really is a great little camera :) I'm still only learning how to use it but we're best mates all ready.

I gotta get to the passport office now to make me an official Irish person. I hope I don't have to wait around for ever. I'm bringing a new book just in case; Columbine by Dave Cullen. I've been reading up about high school shootings for a character I was writing about, but I've had this book for a while and not gotten round to reading it so I'm looking forward to starting today.

Hope everyones enjoying the last of the summer sun :)

The real life horse whisperer! (and some other real life stuff)

Yesterday I went to the RDS for the Dublin Horse Show! I go every year just to soak up all the lovely ponyness and enjoy the excruciatingly nerve-wracking experience that is the Aga Khan FEI Nations Cup (kinda like the world cup for showjumping). This year there was another super exciting event to look forward to though; a demonstration by Monty Roberts, a real life horse whisperer. I got his book The Man Who Listens to Horses when I was about 11 or 12 and used to totally idolize him. We got a seat on the grandstand to watch the 4 year olds showjumping class, and stayed put through the rain storm whilst Monty's students set up a round pen in the arena. Monty ran into the ring waving and wearing a stetson and cowboy boots. They brought in a 16hh grey mare called Heather who pranced and reared around as her owner explained over a mic that she was agressive to handle, spooky and wouldn't take a rider. Monty did his famous 'join up' routine that resulted in the horse eventually coming in to him and following him around wherever he went. It was lovely. It makes sense that he works with kids in juvenile detention because when you see this small-ish old man calm a wild-ish horse in 10 minutes and have it walking around behind him across giant tarps of plastic when it couldn't handle a single bag at the start, without him laying a single hand on her or raising his voice, you realise that he's right: 'violence only helps the violator, and never the victim'. Even as Heather was lashing out at him with her hooves, he was explaining how often the most violent horses turn out to be the most gentle once they are taught to trust people. Lovely lovely lovely.


In other news, we currently have a house guest in the form of Lisa Faith Phillips, who is in Dublin to do her show How To Be a Bad Girl in Bewleys Cafe Theatre on the 8th of August. I haven't seen this one yet but if you're around I recommend catching it because her shows are a lot of fun.


Lisa also introduced my parents waay back in the day, which is an irrelevant but interesting fact :) she ALSO got me an awesome present in the form of a ticket to see Florence and The Machine play in Terminal 5, New York on November 1st. I'm so excited about seeing Florence play again! Her live shows are so spine-tingling good, I can't wait. I was doing some Florence watching on YouTube in preperation and came across this awesome cover of En Vogues 'Don't Let Go'



Lisa's present got me thinking about my top 5 presents list. I have received many presents in my 22 years but here are some of my favourites (in nor particular order of favouriteness)
1. My Little Pony on a chain that Martini made me for my 21st.
2. Chamele No. 5 from Moore St.
3. Two old volumes of William Blakes completed works my dad got me for my 21st birthday.
4. A headcollar and leadrope a friend of my parents got me when I was 12 because she 'knew I'd have my own pony some day to use them on'.
5. Ticket to Florence and The Machine in New York.
There's a whole other blog post in the making about my Twilight related gifts, of which I have received an unsettling for others but awesome for me amount.

The other day when I woke up in a room full of smoke and I thought the house was on fire, it raced trough my mind that I would have to choose certain things to rescue (apart from my kitties obviously). This was a slight cause of panic because I lean slightly towards the hoarder side of the hoarder/non hoarder scale and have many treasured possessions. When I was a kid I used to insist on travelling with all these cigar boxes I filled with stuff I deemed incredibly important and I think it never really wore off. Thankfully there was no fire and I still have all my lovely paintings and books and boxes of random crap. I'm working on a top 5 list of treasured items (always think about this on a Saturday because of the question in the Guardian Weekend magazine interview 'what is your most treasured possession?') but I think its gonna take a while...so many pretty shiny things to choose from.

Here's a video I made of my furry alive treasured possessions documenting their unhealthy attachment to catnip. I would just like to note that I am not a crazy cat lady who spends all her time making videos of her cats. I sometimes go to work/sleep/do non cat related things. But not often.

Life On Da Street Corner

As some of you may know, I am currently employed by Concern Worldwide as an On-The-Street Fundraiser (!). The (!) is there because this job title has to be said with enthusiasm. It's the law.
As an On-The-Street Fundraiser (!) I spend my days standing on various streets around Dublin and sometimes other places like Monaghan (I seem to be spending a lot of time in Monaghan. If life is trying to send me a sign that I should move there its getting ignored. New York is way better looking). I am what is sometimes known as a chugger. I, however, am one of the nice chuggers who isn't allowed chase people down the street or say 'oh, too broke to give 21 euros a month eh...yeah...nice watch by the way, is it new?'. Bummer, I know, but its actually nice working for people who are doing something good for the world.
Seeing as I'm not allowed to move around, I have been told to find a spot and stay there, kind of like a hoe defending her corner. No, it doesn't say that in the manual but its totally what they meant.
I've had some interesting customers in my previous jobs, one of the most memorable being the old man in Reads who brought in bookmarks with poems on them that he wrote for his dead wife who was killed by a car outside on Naussau Street, but working on the (da) street is definitely where you meet the weirdies. Here are some of the things that have happened so far:

• A 60 something American man wearing reflective sunglasses told me he worked for the American government, so I said 'ooooh, are you in the FBI?'. He gave me a long hard look and said 'how did you know?'. He told me he worked for the Seattle branch and was very impressed with my detection skills, so impressed in fact that he told me to come to Seattle when I graduated and join the FBI. He was very serious.
• A woman who, when asked if she had a minute to spare for Concern, replied with 'actually, I'm writing a socio-feminist novel that'll probably divide society as we know it forever when it comes out, so no, I'm kind of busy'.
• A man who accused me of being personally responsible for the death of unborn children because I work for a charity that promotes 'population control' (a.k.a. as trying to prevent the spreading of AIDS). He read my nametag and repeatedly said my name. He got it right and everything, he didn't even call me Sarah.
  
• That was also the same day a junkie came up behind me, pushed me out of the way and told me to 'GET A BLOODY REAL JOB!'.

Sigh. But like I said, good cause. And it also led me to buy my black anorak, from which I am now inseparable. It's so awesome.

Note:I just took a break from writing this blog and signed up my parents friend in the living room. Kind of resentful that I am not wearing my anorak coz its too warm.

Anyway, if ya see me on the street, its ok to avoid me, just say 'I'm avoiding you'. The worst is the people who make you feel like you actually are invisible. Sometimes this job can be a series of existential identity crisis moments. But its a job, and kids in child labour are being sent back to school, and I'm saving money for the big escape...so for now I'll keep defending my street corner. Watch out bitches.

my kingdom for a horse

A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!- Richard The Third (Act 5, Scene 4)

Or as I would say: PONIES!

I have just about summoned up enough strength from my aching bones to tell of my adventure to Castle Leslie Estate, Co. Monaghan.

Day 1:
Myself and my comrade on this adventure, Avril, arrived at the Lodge in blazing sunshine and after standing there for a few minutes going 'wow, this place is so cool!' we went to check in. When she opened the door to the room and only saw one (GIANT) bed the Receptionist looked worried and said 'oh sorry, did you ask for twin beds?' and we assured her that it was fine and that we didn't. She looked openly uncomfortable to be in the presence of what must be lesbians and quickly ran away. After jumping up and down on the bed of ridiculousness for a while we went to explore the grounds. We picked up a map at reception (yes, this place has its own map) but managed to somehow still get lost by wandering off the beaten track onto a path that looked kind of like a tunnel through the forest, half way down which our phone networks decided we had crossed the border into Northern Ireland. After sizing up the cross country jumps and quaking in fear at the prospect of the next days riding we went to the Castle to sit in the amazing drawing room drinking complimentary home made lemonade and read books about art whilst a rain storm happened outside. On the way back to our room the receptionist decided she was gonna try and reach out to some poor lesbians and advised us on what was the best pub to go to in the area. She then told us she was going to Dublin to see Twilight with her boyfriend, upon which we made friends forever (a girl who travels for hours for Twilight is a friend of mine).

Day Two:
In the morning we choked down breakfast, shushing each other whenever we tried to voice our terror about the slowly approaching cross country ride, and put on our pony gear going 'this is going to be fun!' in over enthusiastic tones. We wandered down to the yard and got introduced to our ponies: mine was called Jane and she was a giant pony a.k.a as a large horse. I had a chat with her as we set off, so we were cool and shit by the time it came to the first jumps. I was nervous at first, but as I flew across the 2nd run of jumps I suddenly remembered how much I loved cross country. Its like a crazy adrenaline rush mixed with mud and thundering hooves. I jumped coffins, tables and chairs, cottage jumps, logs, up and down steps and a big bank out of the lake (this won't mean anything unless you know ponies, but was very impressive for us). It started raining as we walked down through a river towards home, and it was one of those perfect moments that you appreciate just as much when your living it as when you remember it.
Back at the hotel we moved like old people all ready but it was made slightly better by chilling in the hot tub in the rain and hanging out on day beds in white fluffy robes. When we finally got it together to get dressed we went back to the Castle to reclaim our couch corner. We went exploring and found a cinema room, complete with lazy boys and massive dvd collection, but (SHAME) we were too scared to stay hidden in the depths of an echoing castle in the dark to avail of this awesome place. Back in the drawing room we were served very elaborate tea by a polite young man who obviously thought we were a bit mental. Coulda been because every time we moved we made a simultaneous OWWW noise. Our friend the kingsize bed was the perfect place for being in pain though.

Day 3:
Pain. Some more pain. Still buzzing from the cross country ride though so definitely worth it. French toast and pancakes for breakfast. We went to explore the estate before saying goodbye to it and fell a bit more in love with every step and agreed that we would have a similar estate together when we're older where we could wander around bareback on our ponies and have parties. I felt genuine sadness as the bus took me back to Dublin. The water doesn't come from the lake here, and it doesn't taste like earth.

Some pictures :)

Castle Leslie and the estate:



(Our) drawing room:


Our couchspace:
Tea at couchspace:

Some of the jumps:




Jane!
Cinema room:

A week later now and I can safely say I want to go back. Now. Please?

Castle Leslie is beautiful. Go there.

:)

Cyanide and Happiness

My current favourite online thingymajig is the Cyanide and Happiness comic on explosm.net
They make me laugh or cringe in the right amounts.




Also, I would just like to say:
Ponies!! <3
The smell of sun and hay always reminds me of being a kid galloping through fields, completely happy. I can't wait till I make good on my birthday present and escape to Castle Leslie with a friend to ride ponies through the lake and read books on picnic blankets.

Old age and gold shoes.

I just had to edit my info to say '22' instead of '21'. Yes, that's right, I am now IN MY TWENTIES. Oh dear. Pass the zimmerframe please, I think my hip's giving out.
Thankfully its probably from too much dancing to this:



and trying to pick up Fatness for cuddles.

Last night I went to see Marianne Faithfull play at the new theatre in Grand Canal Dock and it was a really great show. Threatening to distract me from the music, however, were my friend Violet's GOLD HIGH HEELED TRAINERS. So practical/impractical, so gold, so...awesome.

Summer Days

June is my favourite month of the year :)
The whole summer lies ahead; right now it feels like forever until September.
Earlier this lovely month some friends and myself went over to York in England and it is such a beautiful and nice place to be, especially when the sun is shining like it was during our stay. I fell in love with the second hand bookshops, especially the one beside the Minster that is 5 floors of tiny, creaking book lined rooms. Evil Eye Lounge was a cool place for hanging out (Johnny Depp's favourite bar in England apparently!) and there was loads of cool small shops like Purple Haze and the Cat Gallery.




Mostly we just did a whole lot of this :)

Upon my return to Dublin it was raining, but that soon cleared up and since then the weather has been ACTUALLY warm! Amazing. I went for Bloomsday swim in Sandycove, which was not very warm at all but very nice, and if you kind of squinted and ignored all the cars and buses and billboards and just focused on the people dressed up in straw hats you could pretend it was a different time, which is always fun.


I'm currently reading a novel written by someone I actually know, which is very exciting! Its called Strangers In America and its by a girl called Erika Meyers from Ohio, who is studying for Creative Writing Masters at UCD with James Ryan, the man himself who gave me the writing exercise that turned in The Beautiful People. I'm really enjoying the book, which is about a girl called Helena, the adopted daughter of adopted parents, who works as an exterminator. I'll write more about it when I'm finished, for now I'm just turning pages and thinking 'YES! It IS possible! Go write a novel!'.

After all my going on about the nice weather, it looks like its actually going to rain today. I guess its the perfect time to get writing...