No ties to bind me, no reasons to remain

There are moments in your life where you make realisations. Moments of clarity that can only occur when you've worn yourself out. When your brain feels like it might fall out. The feeling you get when you think you can't go on, when you remember you haven't drank water for two days straight and have stopped washing yourself. Everybody should have one of these moments. Mine happened this weekend.

It occured in the end scene of the week. About half twelve on Sunday night/monday morning. We'd just dropped off what had to have been the 4hundredth car load of stuff to the new house and were in the middle of some creative waste managment problem solving. I looked into the boot of the car and it hit me. I own a ridiculous amount of complete and utter shit. Not just one or two bags of junk, but boxes and boxes and boxes of total and utter garbage.

The migration in question being the move from my first ever house of rented accomodation to the second of such houses. The latter being closer to town and less residential. From here on in it will be known as "The Move" to all who witnessed it. And I hope to fuck its the last.

As I began to unpack things from boxes I hadn't bothered even looking in since last November, I stumbled across a treasure trove of memories...that I could no longer remember. Stacks of bus tickets from journeys I have no recollection of being on, beer mats of drinks I don't drink, empty cigarette boxes and nagan bottle tops from nights that have all blurred into one. Somewhere at some point, in the 'Are you there God, its me Margaret' portion of my brain, I felt I should hold onto these. Mementos of a day well spent is what I was probably thinking. What I'm thinking now what the fuck was I thinking then?

But, amongst the coal there were diamonds, and between the cinema stubs, the 10 year old Ms. Selfridge receipts and the sea of clothes I found something I'm glad I kept. The newspaper that my mother kept for me, from the day I was born.

Pot throws bucket of black paint over kettle

"Everybody reaches a point in their life when they have to say to themselves 'ok... Time to reign myself in'."

-My Bank manager to me.

My kids need wine

Have you ever started to drink a bottle of wine and cringed at the first sip? You battle through the first glass cursing yourself for not spending two euro more for something that was at least drinkable. A sour feeling coats your teeth and tongue, your stomach lurches, your oesophagus heaves. You persist. Halfway through the bottle you feel warm and reassured. That money you saved will go towards an extra drink at the bar, you think smugly. By the end of the bottle your friend asks for a sip, takes it into her mouth and promptly spits it out.

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST. That wine is corked."




No? Me neither.

Halloweeeeeeeeeeeen

A: What are you dressing up as?
B: A nun.
A: Hmmm
B: No, its cool, I have fishnets and heels and suspenders and...

Even the most mundane of uniforms suddenly becomes transformed with a simple pre-fix; sexy builder, sexy nurse, sexy silage maker, sexy butcher, sexy mortician... The only time of year when girls can openly clap their flaps without being branded a slut. I say wear hot pants and a leather bra to work whenever you fancy and actually come up with something creative on Halloween.

They set a new record up in Crumlin this year. There were 4 different bonfires happening on the same green at the same time. OUr neighbours threw such a spectacular fireworks show I felt like I was at the Olympics.

You wouldn't get that kind of recession beating spirit in Malahide.