Crisis is opportunity right? right?!!!!

Lest you think that I am about to slit my wrists...let me just reassure you that my bad mood is not actually going to kill me. Still, my break from Dublinia and subsequent rocky return has me t(h)inking about alot of things. And I have realized my fair friends, that some changes need to be made, and soon. You have all been telling me this for months...and yes, you were all right. I made some bad decisions when I first moved here but I refused to trust my own judgement in my quest for a settled life and routine.

Thank god for Tommy who has been sweet as pie and came home tonight with sushi and bagels and christmas lights for our soon-to-be christmas tree. (These are in fact, a few of my favorite things. Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens just don't compare... but a few Xanex might have been nice.) What a love. He does know how to cheer a girl up.

Ramblings that I am sure to Regret

Fuck everything today. Fuck plane trips with uncomfortable seats and melting wedding cake on my lap, Fuck transitions, Fuck saying goodbye, Fuck Jet-lag, Fuck insomnia giving me way, way too much time to think about the fact that someday everything I love will be gone, Fuck the fact that someday I'll be gone too, Fuck Dublin and it's cold, rainy, dreariness, Fuck the cabbie that picked me up at the airport and kept on about my big brown eyes, Fuck graphic design and it's inherent desires to please and entice, Fuck marketing and that endless quest for the almighty dollar/euro, Fuck the shallow, sticky-sweet meaninglessness of commercial art and it's oh so self important attitude. Design doesn't make the world a better place so who cares? What exactly is the point. We might as well paint the names of everything with acme black paint and call it a day. Fuck all of the wasted energy that I put into my profession every day. Fuck my own inability to assert myself, Fuck my job and Fuck walking to work in the rain and sitting on that godforsaken train with a bunch of pimped out little catholic school girls. Fuck this lonely, shitty, place where sometimes everything just seems like one long struggle to maintain any kind of positivity, Fuck my own broodishness and my constant struggle against thoughts of the darkest kind, Fuck George Bush for having so much damn blood on his hands and taking away what should be my national pride, Fuck the Doirty Dub gangsters shooting eachother in the head outside my door, Fuck the self-righteous euro trash bastards always asking me to take on the sins of my country. Fuck it all. I'm so tired. And I know I sound like a teenager and I know that I have so very much in my life that is so worthy, my beautiful boy whose eyes alone are worth waking up for, my sweet family who love me more than anyone possibly could, my amazing and inspiring friends, the fact that I have food to eat and a roof over my head and don't live in Pakistan waiting for winter. It's just that sometimes life seems so inherently sad and the everyday seems so incredibly mundane. Do I really want to spend the next 40 years being a bitch to the 9 to 5?

Wicked Pissa

Oh joy. Home sweet. I love it. I absoultely love being home...Hearing those fateful words, "Welcome to Logan inta'national ai'po't" really were music to my ex-pat ears. Who'da thunk I'd be homesick for the voice of a middle aged townie from Southie. Fucking Fabulous.

Have been having a lovely time in my faux cafe society holiday life. (I'm still waiting to win euro-millions but until then, a week off is the closest thing I get to my fantasy of independent wealth.) Been eating glorious food cooked by my incredibly culinarily talented parents, drinking wine (and whiskey don't worry) with my fabulous ladies (and their fabulous boyfriends/husbands/doormats...) The first morning I was here was one of those heartbreakingly beautiful New England Fall days (that's fall not autumn muthafuckas.) I took a walk to Coolidge Corner (my neighborhood of origin) and visited my tailor run by a greek family who welcomed me back and offered to hem my pants on the spot. Everyone really does know my name...

Strangely, the only bars I've been in since I've been home have been Irish ones...haha Hit up the Sligo in Davis the other night and The Druid last night. I've seen more red walls, Irish street signs and posters for the Lisdoonvarna match making festival in the last few days than I have in months of living in Baile Atha Cliath (that's Dublin for all you non-Irish speakers out there.) Wanted to strike up a conversation with the Irish bartender last night...thought we could wax poetic about Tayto's and Cadbury and Bertie and people who wear trousers and enjoy the craic and say things like Wind yer neck in...but I thought he might not appreciate my yank self represenentin' the isle of green so I decided not to accost him. I suspect there are more Irish bars in my future though...will probably end up at Murphy's or Anam Cara or the Washington Sq. Tavern tonight. Irish Bartenders beware... What about ye ya bleedin' muppet? What'sa Craic? God I'm cool. ;)

Was an absolute Domestic Goddess today. Made a cake before noon (with homemade frosting...) and spent the afternoon makin' lasagna and baked ziti with me mummy. Sadly, my first attempt to frost said cake was a sad disaster as the cake was still warm and turned the frosting into warm, white ooze. Luckily was able to salvage it by refrosting hours later so my cousin will have a (hopefully) tasty cake that doesn't resemble a snow drift for his recent college graduation. I've even got a little black mortarboard to put on the top of it. Wicked kitsch.

Have been eating like a champion...hopefully will still fit into my hip euro clothes...haha...when I return to my regularly scheduled programming. Fakes was kick-ass. Chestnut soup, de-boned turkey rolled with figs and prosiutto, cognac gravy, homemade cranberry sauce, veggie lasagna, flourless chocolate cake, homemade apple pie and a whole host of things to be thankful (fakefull ;)) for. Ended up getting into a heated political debate with Lolo's not-her-boyfriend who grew up in the age of bussing in Boston and hails from Southie. Amazing how the Irish-Americans in Boston have moved so far to the right in comparison with the Irish living in Ireland today. Not-her boyfriend was trying to convince me that, "might makes right," as in, Americas got the big guns and therefore everyone should fall into line behind us and let us be the bullies of the world because we are the defenders of the western world and we hook those pinko-commie europeans up with the oil. Yes, I agreed, American is a powerful nation but with power comes a great responsibility to use that power carefully and constructively...two words which are foreign to the current administration in my opinion. Well, you get the idea. Anyway, despite the fact that we think very, very differently about all things political and Not-her-boyfriend was extremely shitfaced, I found the whole interchange to be really interesting. It's a lot more stimulating to discuss politics with someone who disagrees with you than it is to be in a roomful of bobbing heads. Even if he is completely and totally wrong on every front...haha.

Tonight, the fam arrives and a few of my ladies. Hopefully there will be much eating of the Italian food and more drinks and debauchery post prandial. Wicked Awesome. Pissa in the extreme. Yes Suh.

-Wannabe Townie

Pucker Up

Conall, Tommy and Carlo
Originally uploaded by di_juice.

This image just had to go up...if not for the tommy pucker than definitely for that amazing wallpaper in the background ;) You shoulda seen the carpets!

What are you like?

I can't help it. I'm in love with Irish slang so here are a few more little tidbits for your chewing pleasure:

Yer some Langer: Culchy phrase (hopefully you've been dilligently studying your Irishisms and know that a Culchy is a rural type.) American Translation: Yer dummer than a box o' rocks. Yer an ass. Also see: Langer = part of male anatomy best not described in too much detail.

Rare: Nope it's not something hard to find...it's used to describe something / someone who's a bit odd, has bad fashion, or is just wacky / wierd / funny lookin' Used for both people and objects. Usage: Is this skirt the rarest thing you've ever seen? or After I saw those pics of myself on the drink...Jaysus I must be the rarest person!

Rugger-Bugger: The Irish/UK version of a dude-guy who is obsessed with Rugby.

What are you like? Heard this one from a big-eyed girl at Ging's wedding. American translation: What crack are you smoking? Similar use to rare. Example: Enter guy wearing tartan (plaid) trousers...Starts getting a slagging from his friend, "Look at those trousers? What are you like?????

Scratcher: (Noun) Bed. As in, "I didn't get out of my scratcher till noon." Variation: Maggie Thatcher (cockney rhyming slang represent!) Example: Get out of yer Maggie Thatcher ya lazy bastard and come help me make breakfast..."

Well tomorrow I fly back to the old country (for me that is) so it's back to my yank ways fo' sheezy. Beantown's in da house...or something like that. See you all on the flipside.

Wining and Dining...

Hello all,

Only one more day until my holidays begin...yahoooo! Am cramming about a million things into the next two days so will probably arrive in Boston in need of either a drink or a nap (or both.) Got my black tie work do the night before I fly out (starting my vacation off in style ;)) Tried out my fancy-pants attire at Tom's friend's wedding last weekend and managed not to spill anything on it so it will be ready to bust out again.

The wedding was good craic. It was fun to meet all of Tom's school friends and their significant others and the wedding itself was an all day and night affair (which was great once the one-hour mass was over.) It was an uber-catholic wedding complete with communion and hymns and 'peace be with you's' and passages from Genesis. While there are certain aspects of Christianity that I can get down to (i.e. being good to your fellow man, love is the most important part of life, help people who are less-fortunate etc...) but it takes all my will-power not to run screaming from organised religion with it's potential dogma and corruption. Amazingly, the first bible passage chosen by the couple (I assume) was that horrible one about man needing a helper and popping out one of his ribs to whip up a wee drudge to iron his shirts and do his dishes ;). I can't even remotely imagine why any one would choose that passage to begin married life. To each his own, I guess.

Once the Churchy-goodness was dispensed with, the afternoon was spent with mulled wine and shortbread and then of course, dinner and speeches, and more drinks and dancing and the residence bar and more drinks...Good fun. Irish weddings continue into the wee hours so I've learned. When I went to bed at 4am, the residence bar was still packed with people in their wedding finest singing Christy Moore songs (and writing with permanent marker all over one sad bloke who had the misfortune of falling asleep in his chair...haha.)

Met a few of Tom's former cohorts who I hadn't met before and it was great to hear stories of their school daze and meet their wives/girlfriends who overall were a very nice bunch. It's always so nice to meet quality grrls. (Too bad none of them live in the Dublin Metropolitan area.)

The wedding was in Limavady - one of the northiest parts of Northern Ireland so we broke up the drive by stopping in Belfast for lunch with Nathan and Debbie and another one of Tom's old friend's Johnny. Johnny was with his girlfriend and new baby Oona. Whenever I'm around babies, I'm struck by how much work they must be. Oona seemed to have the energy of 10 men. How does anyone do it? It's a good thing they're cute!

Well, must get back to work. Am compiling a new installation of Irishisms to be unveiled soon. :)

Drinkin' Whiskey out of Boots (and other wedding tales)

IMG_6682
Originally uploaded by di_juice.

Click the pic for Northy wedding goodness. Full tales will be forthcoming...

More Fun with the A-B-Zs (that's A-B-Zed's in case you were wondering...)

Hello All...

Here are a few more gems from my ever growing book of Irishisms...

Much of a Muchness: Rolls off the tongue doesn't it...Americish translation: it doesn't matter either way or there's really no difference between them... The old Irish lady equivalent of, "Six of one, half a dozen of another..."

My heads hangin' off me: Oh but there are so many ways to really describe that hangover. Usage: After drinking free cosmos all night on Monday at a schmoozy design thing my head was absolutely hanging off me the next day when I had to get up and go to work...haha. (a true story even ;))

I wouldn't kick her/him out of bed for eating crisps: You can probably tell what this one means...That lady/lad is so aesthetically pleasing that I am willing to live with a world of scratchy bits in my bed...Come hither and eat crisps why dont'cha?!

It works a treat: First heard by me on Irish radio...as in, "It's my wedding day tomorrow and I have a giant spot on my chin what ever should I do...?" Answer: teatree oil works a treat. And like magic...poof the spot was gone.

Cop on / Catch yerself on: Similar to "Wind yer neck in," (see previous post.) Statement: "I am such a rockstar of such grandiose porportions..." Response: "Catch yourself on mate." Americish translation: Get over yourself, wake up and smell the coffee or my personal favorite, "Bitch please."

I'm so hungry I could eat the arse out of a hot buttered donkey...Does this really need any explanation????

Well, back to work, it's nearly 2pm and not a wee-un washed...fecks sake, like.

High Heels and Headaches

I think I am becoming a shopaholic...Have spent the last two weekends trolling from shop to shop. Have two fancy functions coming up and needed to get a dress (and of course then I needed shoes, a handbag, a jumper etc...) Had to find something fit for a wedding and a black tie gala for work. It's amazing how you can go into a shop looking for formal wear and come out with 2 pairs of cordoroy trousers and a belt...(I can't be the only one who does that!) I have apparently become a sucker for marketing...haha. One thing is for sure, Dublin shopping is Divine (much better than Belfast.) Let's just hope I can pay the rent this month ;) Still haven't found that perfect handbag for the black tie occasion...guess there is more consumer joy in my future.

On other fronts, work has been ridiculously busy which normally I would be happy about. Better to be busy than bored... but I am finding myself extremely blocked on the creative front. The last couple of websites I've worked on have been hours of work looking for the concept with little to nothing to show for it. So frustrating. I think it's partially that I get stressed out knowing that there's a lot to do and wanting to bang it out and partially that designing for web is relatively new to me and I just don't have the quick fixes in my head. Either way, I'm ready to pull my hair out lately. Think I have a more volatile relationship with Design than with anything else in my love. Love it and hate it and everything in between. Guess I really need my upcoming vacation...10 days now! Yahoooooo!

Wish me luck walking in the ridiculously glam high-heeled shoes I just bought. Will have to take it easy on the Whiskey front or will spend the wedding this weekend on me arse...haha.