The weekend was great. Sarah Al came down with her flatmate to see me, and because she knew I was down to my last tenner, paid for everything. Big Hugs doing to ya and Mark, babe!
Yesterday was interesting. I had a gentleman caller, who shall remain known as Hot Rob, over to my place, and a hot sweaty session was had.
But now? NOW?? I've been laid up in bed ALL DAY as a horrible virus has invaded my system (and that of my flatmate's as well. I wonder which one of us brought it into the house?)
Lemsips, Lockets, hacking coughs and sniffles are what I have to put up with now.
BAH!
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Hooray!
I got the results of two clinical assessments back today (one of them being the controlled-drug exam I blogged about before), and I aced them both!
There will be other assessments before the end of the year is out, but these were quite substantial, and now that I've done well in them, a decent end-of-year mark is within the realm of possibility.
Whew...
There will be other assessments before the end of the year is out, but these were quite substantial, and now that I've done well in them, a decent end-of-year mark is within the realm of possibility.
Whew...
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
The weekend
It's been mental.
After the placement finished on Friday, I went into town to meet my parents, who had flown over for Dan's wedding, and the weekend kicked off from there.
After a night of making g&ts for MizzFlee (and myself!) I fell home at about 5am saturday morning. I rose at lunchtime, beautified myself and hotfooted it into town. From there, my parents and I went to the wedding service in Hove.
Shitty weather notwithstanding, the service was very nice. One of the readers of the gospel enunciated everything with great stridency and drama, and as a result made it sound a bit more interesting, there were little children singing and playing wind instruments (a tuba or french horn? I'm not sure) and the organist played only an accompaniment, leaving it to us to actually sing. This last exercise was performed with various degrees of success with different people: I hadn't a clue, so completely ballsed it up, but everyone else seemed to know what they were doing.
After the parents and I had gone off to get something to eat after, we returned to the reception. There we found the groom, and for once the bride, nicely trolleyed. After a while, I had caught up to them. Meeting the others from the stag night was also a good laugh.
At the end of the night, a small group of us headed on the long walk home. I eventually got a taxi (I think) and got home at the not too outrageous hour of 3:30am.
Sunday saw me get up and meet the parents again, get something to eat and then go home. Monday saw me run into college in a panic to finish an assignment that was due in at 5pm that day (A+! Yay!), and then meet my parents for food again. Can you see the pattern that is emerging? I was certainly well-fed while they were here. I then dragged them to the Dragon to meet one or two of the beeyatches of BN2. Once they had gone home, I went to the Bulldog. And stayed there until 2.
Today, I saw Ma and Pa off on the train to the airport, and then headed over to college to do another clinical assessment.
Now it's back to normality and poverty and studying. And Kung Fu, which I haven't been at for about 3 weeks. It's on in 10 minutes. Wish me luck...
After the placement finished on Friday, I went into town to meet my parents, who had flown over for Dan's wedding, and the weekend kicked off from there.
After a night of making g&ts for MizzFlee (and myself!) I fell home at about 5am saturday morning. I rose at lunchtime, beautified myself and hotfooted it into town. From there, my parents and I went to the wedding service in Hove.
Shitty weather notwithstanding, the service was very nice. One of the readers of the gospel enunciated everything with great stridency and drama, and as a result made it sound a bit more interesting, there were little children singing and playing wind instruments (a tuba or french horn? I'm not sure) and the organist played only an accompaniment, leaving it to us to actually sing. This last exercise was performed with various degrees of success with different people: I hadn't a clue, so completely ballsed it up, but everyone else seemed to know what they were doing.
After the parents and I had gone off to get something to eat after, we returned to the reception. There we found the groom, and for once the bride, nicely trolleyed. After a while, I had caught up to them. Meeting the others from the stag night was also a good laugh.
At the end of the night, a small group of us headed on the long walk home. I eventually got a taxi (I think) and got home at the not too outrageous hour of 3:30am.
Sunday saw me get up and meet the parents again, get something to eat and then go home. Monday saw me run into college in a panic to finish an assignment that was due in at 5pm that day (A+! Yay!), and then meet my parents for food again. Can you see the pattern that is emerging? I was certainly well-fed while they were here. I then dragged them to the Dragon to meet one or two of the beeyatches of BN2. Once they had gone home, I went to the Bulldog. And stayed there until 2.
Today, I saw Ma and Pa off on the train to the airport, and then headed over to college to do another clinical assessment.
Now it's back to normality and poverty and studying. And Kung Fu, which I haven't been at for about 3 weeks. It's on in 10 minutes. Wish me luck...
Friday, February 09, 2007
Thank Crunchie it's friday.
The placement was more shit than shinola.
The commute to the hospital was 2 hours each way, with two stop changes along the way. The hospital was uninspiring, being out in the middle of nowhere, and consisting of wards that were, in the main, occupied by the elderly. And the pharmacist I was assigned to was more than a little indifferent to the work I had to do while I was there (and then had the cheek to tell me at the end of the week that while the university might chase after me to get work done, it wasn't how things were done there!).
On Thursday, I left the house for the railway station at the required time of 7am, to find everywhere carpeted with snow. Naturally, the public transport system, which seemed not to have a contingency plan in place for this kind of thing, was disrupted. On that day, I got about halfway towards my destination, and then it was matter-of-factly announced over the intercom that we would be staying put until further notice, as there was a fire after breaking out in the tunnel ahead. The train was crammed full of pre-teen brats on their way to school, and they erupted in cheers.
If ever the makers of Levonelle or Dianette wanted footage for a marketing campaign, they couldn't do much better than film what it was like to share a morning train with these little shits for the entire week.
We were herded off the train, onto a bus provided at short notice, and then back onto the train again once it was discovered that everything had been sorted out. This put me in the best of form for the rest of the day.
I had to copy down five prescriptions from the pharmacy files. I did this, often in front of the pharmacist I was with, but at the end of the week, she wouldn't stamp them to verify I had done it at the hospital. She said she would have to verify them on the computer, as I 'could have got them from anywhere'. She wouldn't support me with the taking of a drug history (a bit of a necessity in this case, as most of the patients were old or confused). And finally, when I did a presentation on a patient at the end of the week to a group of pharmacists - most of the information collected with the bare minimum of help from her - she focused only on its bad points, leaving it to the other pharmacists to point out that I had at least laid out the presentation well, and was comprehensive in my coverage.
I would have haggled with her over certain things, but by the end of the week, all I wanted to do was get away from that hospital and her, so I just left. I was quite cold towards her at the end, but I couldn't help myself, and she won't be getting a positive review from me when I hand in my placement feedback form next week.
So that's it. My placement over for the year. If she gives a report of 'unsatisfactory' back to the university, I'll go back out there and divest her of her head.
All of this is unfortunate, as I had planned on doing at least one year of clinical work after I leave college, but now I'm wondering if I'd be better off just making tracks for a drug company instead, and making my money there. I'll see. Time will tell how things pan out.
Dan and Junes' wedding tomorrow. Woo hoo!
The commute to the hospital was 2 hours each way, with two stop changes along the way. The hospital was uninspiring, being out in the middle of nowhere, and consisting of wards that were, in the main, occupied by the elderly. And the pharmacist I was assigned to was more than a little indifferent to the work I had to do while I was there (and then had the cheek to tell me at the end of the week that while the university might chase after me to get work done, it wasn't how things were done there!).
On Thursday, I left the house for the railway station at the required time of 7am, to find everywhere carpeted with snow. Naturally, the public transport system, which seemed not to have a contingency plan in place for this kind of thing, was disrupted. On that day, I got about halfway towards my destination, and then it was matter-of-factly announced over the intercom that we would be staying put until further notice, as there was a fire after breaking out in the tunnel ahead. The train was crammed full of pre-teen brats on their way to school, and they erupted in cheers.
If ever the makers of Levonelle or Dianette wanted footage for a marketing campaign, they couldn't do much better than film what it was like to share a morning train with these little shits for the entire week.
We were herded off the train, onto a bus provided at short notice, and then back onto the train again once it was discovered that everything had been sorted out. This put me in the best of form for the rest of the day.
I had to copy down five prescriptions from the pharmacy files. I did this, often in front of the pharmacist I was with, but at the end of the week, she wouldn't stamp them to verify I had done it at the hospital. She said she would have to verify them on the computer, as I 'could have got them from anywhere'. She wouldn't support me with the taking of a drug history (a bit of a necessity in this case, as most of the patients were old or confused). And finally, when I did a presentation on a patient at the end of the week to a group of pharmacists - most of the information collected with the bare minimum of help from her - she focused only on its bad points, leaving it to the other pharmacists to point out that I had at least laid out the presentation well, and was comprehensive in my coverage.
I would have haggled with her over certain things, but by the end of the week, all I wanted to do was get away from that hospital and her, so I just left. I was quite cold towards her at the end, but I couldn't help myself, and she won't be getting a positive review from me when I hand in my placement feedback form next week.
So that's it. My placement over for the year. If she gives a report of 'unsatisfactory' back to the university, I'll go back out there and divest her of her head.
All of this is unfortunate, as I had planned on doing at least one year of clinical work after I leave college, but now I'm wondering if I'd be better off just making tracks for a drug company instead, and making my money there. I'll see. Time will tell how things pan out.
Dan and Junes' wedding tomorrow. Woo hoo!
Sunday, February 04, 2007
The Weekend
It's been a bit mental, but great. Last night saw me at Dan's stag night, which saw us first in a bowling alley, then in a all-you-can-eat chinese buffet, and finally back at the organiser's flat. One of the guys there had a vinyl collection that went back to the Velvet Underground and the decks were spun all night. It was a great way to end the night (clubbing was wisely ruled out early on) and some of the songs took me right down memory lane. Then there were others (Bauhaus, Gang of Four) that I had never got around to listening to before.
I finally forced myself to leave in the small hours, getting home at 7am this morning. For all I know, they could still be at it now. Getting up at 12 for work was a barrel of laughs, of course, and now I'm sitting here with a microbiology report to do that must be finished by 8pm this evening, if I'm to get it handed in on time tomorrow (and of course the one day that I need it to be quiet in here, a domineering woman keeps monopolising my time and making me show her how to print out documents in the most awkward way possible).
I have my hospital placement all of this coming week, which I expect will be more than a little challenging. Please God it goes well.
My parent are coming over for Dan's wedding on Friday coming (the occasion itself is on Saturday) so that should be interesting.
Roll on the end of the week, that's all I'll say...
I finally forced myself to leave in the small hours, getting home at 7am this morning. For all I know, they could still be at it now. Getting up at 12 for work was a barrel of laughs, of course, and now I'm sitting here with a microbiology report to do that must be finished by 8pm this evening, if I'm to get it handed in on time tomorrow (and of course the one day that I need it to be quiet in here, a domineering woman keeps monopolising my time and making me show her how to print out documents in the most awkward way possible).
I have my hospital placement all of this coming week, which I expect will be more than a little challenging. Please God it goes well.
My parent are coming over for Dan's wedding on Friday coming (the occasion itself is on Saturday) so that should be interesting.
Roll on the end of the week, that's all I'll say...
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Monday, January 29, 2007
Geometry
When you are locking lips with the man of your choice in your local pub, the stance you adopt has long been established: Opposite and facing one another.
But what happens when you are playing tonsil tennis with more than one beau at a time? The solution lies in the power and beauty of mathematics.
If there are three of you altogether, you each should occupy one of the vertices of an equilateral triangle, aim towards the centre, and tongues away!
Euclid, eat your heart out.
In the (even better) event that there are four players in the game, you should each occupy the corners of a square, again aiming towards the centre.
In the extremely rare - and even more pleasurable - instance that there are five protagonists in the drama, each of hot n' hairy bears needs to occupy one of the five vertices of a pentagon, and once again lean towards the middle.
In the case of six, seven, or even EIGHT burly beasts playing this game, it can be shown that you should perform the same with the corners of a hexagon, heptagon, or octagon, respectively, though I can't (yet!) say that I have had experience with these numbers in that context.
However, it is best if the feat is not followed by either - or both - of the following:
1) All of them disappearing as soon as you have gone to the bathroom, in spite of your best efforts to bring them all back to a location of your choice.
2) You leaving your jacket out of sight for a while, and then when returning home (under a black cloud, because you thought you were going to have the night of your life, only to have iced water poured on the whole thing at the last minute) you discover that your phone is no longer in said jacket.
BAH!
But what happens when you are playing tonsil tennis with more than one beau at a time? The solution lies in the power and beauty of mathematics.
If there are three of you altogether, you each should occupy one of the vertices of an equilateral triangle, aim towards the centre, and tongues away!
Euclid, eat your heart out.
In the (even better) event that there are four players in the game, you should each occupy the corners of a square, again aiming towards the centre.
In the extremely rare - and even more pleasurable - instance that there are five protagonists in the drama, each of hot n' hairy bears needs to occupy one of the five vertices of a pentagon, and once again lean towards the middle.
In the case of six, seven, or even EIGHT burly beasts playing this game, it can be shown that you should perform the same with the corners of a hexagon, heptagon, or octagon, respectively, though I can't (yet!) say that I have had experience with these numbers in that context.
However, it is best if the feat is not followed by either - or both - of the following:
1) All of them disappearing as soon as you have gone to the bathroom, in spite of your best efforts to bring them all back to a location of your choice.
2) You leaving your jacket out of sight for a while, and then when returning home (under a black cloud, because you thought you were going to have the night of your life, only to have iced water poured on the whole thing at the last minute) you discover that your phone is no longer in said jacket.
BAH!
Friday, January 26, 2007
Things I have to stop doing when I'm drunk #55,368,792
Running around asking everyone if they share my opinion on how hot a straight guy of our mutual acquaintance is.
Well, thank CHRIST!
The current wave of exams is over, and apart from a few assessments I have to hand in over the coming weeks, I'm finished with them for a while. I celebrated by going on a bender from hell yesterday, which saw me get home in the small hours of this morning.
Well, at least I was able to stand at the end of the night, which is more than can be said for some of the people I was out with. Now I'm at work though, with my head on the desk again, and I'm supposed to be going to Kung Fu tonight.
The Medicinal Chemistry exam wasn't as bad as it could have been, thankfully.
Once I've shaken this hangover, I'm going to go out and do something I haven't been able to do in a while without feeling guilty: Head to St. James' street and get me some COCK!
Well, at least I was able to stand at the end of the night, which is more than can be said for some of the people I was out with. Now I'm at work though, with my head on the desk again, and I'm supposed to be going to Kung Fu tonight.
The Medicinal Chemistry exam wasn't as bad as it could have been, thankfully.
Once I've shaken this hangover, I'm going to go out and do something I haven't been able to do in a while without feeling guilty: Head to St. James' street and get me some COCK!
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
I HATE exams
I had a controlled-drug dispensing exam this morning.
Only someone who has done, or has to do, one of those can appreciate what a minefield they can be. You leave out the most tiny, seemingly insignificant detail when submitting your supporting paperwork, and you get a big fat zero. I narrowly avoided making some mistakes, correcting them at the last minute, and then ran at top speed from the post-mortem that was conducted by the other students outside aftwards.
I don't feel too bad about this, but gut feelings are useless when it comes to this kind of exam, as there is no sliding scale. You either get full marks, or nothing.
And just to put me in good spirits, I had a rather unexpected dose of the runs just before I was due to go in. I think I need to take stress management classes.
(Though it must be said, having hot sex with a beefy muscle-bound guy the day before helped, even if the timing might have been a bit ill-advised)
The results aren't out for over a month, which is just fine by me. Ignorance, for the moment, is bliss.
Next week: Medicinal Chemistry exam. Now where are those razor blades?
Only someone who has done, or has to do, one of those can appreciate what a minefield they can be. You leave out the most tiny, seemingly insignificant detail when submitting your supporting paperwork, and you get a big fat zero. I narrowly avoided making some mistakes, correcting them at the last minute, and then ran at top speed from the post-mortem that was conducted by the other students outside aftwards.
I don't feel too bad about this, but gut feelings are useless when it comes to this kind of exam, as there is no sliding scale. You either get full marks, or nothing.
And just to put me in good spirits, I had a rather unexpected dose of the runs just before I was due to go in. I think I need to take stress management classes.
(Though it must be said, having hot sex with a beefy muscle-bound guy the day before helped, even if the timing might have been a bit ill-advised)
The results aren't out for over a month, which is just fine by me. Ignorance, for the moment, is bliss.
Next week: Medicinal Chemistry exam. Now where are those razor blades?
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Gawd ALMIGHTY!
Got back into the swing of things by staying up until nearly 1am last night, finishing off a report for a lab we had earlier that day. A lab that ended with an MCQ exam.
The deadline for applying for a summer placement with Lloyds Pharmacy was midday today. I had a 4 hour class this morning, so I resolved to go in early and try and get the application done first. Sleeping through the alarm this morning and waking up half an hour late didn't help, and now I've missed that boat. The only consolation is that the 4 hour class this morning was a mock exam in dispensing controlled drugs, a very difficult one to pass, and I managed to pass muster. If I play my cards right, in a week, I'll be qualified (almost) to give out morphine, methadone, valium, and the like.
I have another shitty bio lab next Monday.
On the Wednesday, I have the controlled drug exam.
The Thursday of the following week, I have another exam, an end-of-module one.
I could certainly do with some morphine, methadone, or valium now...
The deadline for applying for a summer placement with Lloyds Pharmacy was midday today. I had a 4 hour class this morning, so I resolved to go in early and try and get the application done first. Sleeping through the alarm this morning and waking up half an hour late didn't help, and now I've missed that boat. The only consolation is that the 4 hour class this morning was a mock exam in dispensing controlled drugs, a very difficult one to pass, and I managed to pass muster. If I play my cards right, in a week, I'll be qualified (almost) to give out morphine, methadone, valium, and the like.
I have another shitty bio lab next Monday.
On the Wednesday, I have the controlled drug exam.
The Thursday of the following week, I have another exam, an end-of-module one.
I could certainly do with some morphine, methadone, or valium now...
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Well, FUCK IT!
The christmas tree is down in the Ryan household, the decorations put away, and the last of the presents have been handed over.
How do I know this, seeing as I should be in Gatwick airport by now? Three guesses and the first two don't count.
This is just the cherry on the cake of my day.
The flight has been rescheduled for tomorrow at 12:55pm. It can't come soon enough.
How do I know this, seeing as I should be in Gatwick airport by now? Three guesses and the first two don't count.
This is just the cherry on the cake of my day.
The flight has been rescheduled for tomorrow at 12:55pm. It can't come soon enough.
Friday, January 05, 2007
I hate this time of year
The Dutch are gone. We saw them off at the airport yesterday. I took a picture of them all with my parents before they headed through the departure gate.
It looks sort of ropey - I still don't know what I'm doing when it comes to my parent's digital camera - but it's the first we've got of them all in a while so it has sentimental value.
Once they had gone through the departures gate, they waved from the other side. I took a picture of that too, only to have a security guard (alas, not a hot one) coming straight for me. He made me delete the picture I had just taken in front of him, or else I would have had to give up the camera. Thankfully he left the rest alone. My father got ratty and asked him if he thought we were terrorists.
Now I have nothing to look forward to except a very shitty January, laden down with exams. Normally I'm optimistic about heading back to Brighton. This time, Urrgggh. Even the prospect of hot n' horny no-strings fun doesn't have quite the same allure.
Well, maybe...
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
My brother's wedding and New Year's Eve.
It was a day to remember. For different reasons.
On Saturday, both my brother-in-law and my Dad were sick. My brother-in-law particularly so, but his bug proved to have a short life, and by sunday, he was more or less ready to go. My father was a different story.
Ever since my father had a bypass operation for his heart 3 years ago, he's been a lot more careful about his health. Add to this the fact that his skills at social prioritising were never the best - to invent a random and arbitrary term that only goes someway towards describing his problem - and he has sometimes passed on attending things that really required his presence.
This wedding, believe it or not, was one of them.
He aired the notion of staying away on Saturday night, and it was met with no small amount of hostility, so he appeared to backtrack. However, on Sunday he was adamant. My sister was raging, as she was of the opinion that as he was on a course of antibiotics, going to the wedding wasn't a big risk, and that he would need to be on death's door to consider missing it anyway. Initially, he said he would go to the reception, and sleep in the room that he had booked in the hotel. He backed out of this later, and decided to stay at home. Needless to say this was not taken well. My mother was quite upset on the morning and if it wasn't for a couple of the neighbours offering moral support, she may never have gotten out of the house at all. My brother appeared to shrug it off, but as was pointed out by my sister, it was always my father he got on best with, so he had to have been disappointed.
We got on with it, asking one of the neighbours to check in on him regularly, and deciding to phone him every so often.
The church ceremony was nice, with a guy playing an acoustic guitar throughout, instead of the usual organ stuff. Having little to do other than direct people to their seats, I was able to relax after a while. Well, after I had read my prayer of the faithful, which I was given only minutes before the service started.
After the ceremony was over, we mingled outside and met a few relatives that I hadn't seen in a long time. It was nice, I hardly recognised some of them, and of course most of them didn't recognise me. After that, we headed to straight to the Silver Springs hotel in Cork and once I got in the door I descended on the free sparkling wine that was provided in the foyer. After that it was into the reception room to sit down to our meal.
It was then that things got a bit more interesting. Because our father was absent, it was decided that I would take his place at the top of the table. It was also decided, not long before the speeches were to start, that I would have to say a few words on his behalf. I was momentarily assailed by waves of terror, but I got it together. By the time my turn came, I'd had a few glasses of wine and was full of my own importance. After being handed the microphone, I started off inauspiciously, but then decided to improvise.
"Paul and Claire's relationship reminded me of Cathy and Heathcliff's in Wuthering Heights", I declared to Claire's bemusement, "but we've got a happy ending in this one". Falling in love with the sound of my own voice, I continued: "There have been quite a few contenders over the years for who would be my sister-in-law", to which the whole place gave a big 'Ooooooh!', "but I'm glad Claire has become the one".
Once I had called a toast and sat down again, I felt as if I had been a bit artless, but everyone seemed to like it, although my brother-in-law said that it was a bit like the Italian Job: I went right to the edge and then braked.
The rest of the night was a blur. The white wine that my glass was constantly being topped up with was maybe the best I've ever had, and I partook liberally. After a while I ended up buzzing around talking to loads of different people and giving one or two men the eye. One such example was my step-brother, the son of my brother's birthmother (my brother was adopted). He had acquired a beard since I saw him last, and was looking distinctly wolfish. Sample: "Matthew, as my step-brother, it would be WRONG to say that you look distinctly doable with your current look. Very wrong indeed". To which he guffawed. Then there was another bloke. He looked at me with fear in his eyes.
The night finished well. I found out that two people I had always liked were now engaged ("Catherine and Peds! Paul and Claire may have been my Cathy and Heathcliff, but ye were always my Romeo and Juliet! Oh, and make SURE you send me an invite to the wedding!") and I rang in the new year by hugging just about every one of the 300-odd people who attended. Then there was an indie disco (Gotta love that category) where we took a trip down memory lane moshing like madmen to Smashing Pumpkins, Nirvana, The Sultans of Ping FC, and God knows what else.
After that, I went to see about which room I was in. It transpired that my parents hadn't booked me into one after all, even though they'd said they'd had, so I ended up having to wake up one of my cousins at about 4am and sleep on the floor in their room.
The morning rise was horrendous. My cousin woke me, saying that my mother was downstairs waiting for me and was driving home in 10 minutes. I stood up, racked with the mother of all hangovers, and staggered into the bathroom. Once it became apparent that I wasn't going to puke there and then, I put on my jacket and shuffled downstairs, shirt still open halfway down my chest. I went to the bar and met one of the tenders from the night before, with a big smirk on his face. "Orange Juice", I slurred. "Certainly", he replied. I annhilated it in under 2 seconds.
I got a drive home and once our destination was reached, I got into bed and slept for a few glorious hours.
Looking back on the whole thing, it was quite a success. I had wondered what it would be like having very few of my friends there, as they didn't really know my brother well enough to come, and had their own plans anyway, but it ended up for the best, as they ended up in different locations, scattered throughout the region. This has been as good a new year's as any I've ever had.
The one major fly in the ointment was, with the crisis of my father not coming, my mother and I forgot to bring the digital camera. The evening has been well documented, as loads of others brought theirs, it just means I don't have any decent pictures immediately to hand to put up here. It's a shame. Apart from anything else, I wanted the world to know what I looked like with a dickie bow and a tux with tails. Perhaps if they're forthcoming from other people.
On reflection, my brother's friends, a bunch I didn't always believe would be the most focussed of people, really came through for him, and I really didn't have that much involvement at all. I still have kind of mixed feelings about this. My brother was the black sheep of the family for quite some time when he was younger, and this may explain why, even now, that his friends seem to enjoy a place in his life that is at least - if not more than - of equal importance than his immediate family. My mother had asked me over Christmas if we still got on, and the truth is he can still be slightly hard to take sometimes. Having said that, I was still paying attention to how much our immediate family was involved over the day. It shouldn't have bothered me, it certainly didn't when my sister got married 10 years ago, maybe I'm just being a bit paranoid. He asked one of his long-term friends to be the best man (thank God his speech came after mine, so he could put my Wuthering Heights reference into context), and I never heard anything about his stag party in Hamburg. But that may have been because I think I once said that I wouldn't be able to afford it, studying in Brighton as I am.
He and his wife are now en route to their honeymoon. They flew to Gatwick today. They had no idea where they were going after that, they were just going to jump on a cheap flight and head somewhere warm. Not a bad idea at all...
So that's it. Major event of the year over for us. Back down to earth with a bang. Bah!
On Saturday, both my brother-in-law and my Dad were sick. My brother-in-law particularly so, but his bug proved to have a short life, and by sunday, he was more or less ready to go. My father was a different story.
Ever since my father had a bypass operation for his heart 3 years ago, he's been a lot more careful about his health. Add to this the fact that his skills at social prioritising were never the best - to invent a random and arbitrary term that only goes someway towards describing his problem - and he has sometimes passed on attending things that really required his presence.
This wedding, believe it or not, was one of them.
He aired the notion of staying away on Saturday night, and it was met with no small amount of hostility, so he appeared to backtrack. However, on Sunday he was adamant. My sister was raging, as she was of the opinion that as he was on a course of antibiotics, going to the wedding wasn't a big risk, and that he would need to be on death's door to consider missing it anyway. Initially, he said he would go to the reception, and sleep in the room that he had booked in the hotel. He backed out of this later, and decided to stay at home. Needless to say this was not taken well. My mother was quite upset on the morning and if it wasn't for a couple of the neighbours offering moral support, she may never have gotten out of the house at all. My brother appeared to shrug it off, but as was pointed out by my sister, it was always my father he got on best with, so he had to have been disappointed.
We got on with it, asking one of the neighbours to check in on him regularly, and deciding to phone him every so often.
The church ceremony was nice, with a guy playing an acoustic guitar throughout, instead of the usual organ stuff. Having little to do other than direct people to their seats, I was able to relax after a while. Well, after I had read my prayer of the faithful, which I was given only minutes before the service started.
After the ceremony was over, we mingled outside and met a few relatives that I hadn't seen in a long time. It was nice, I hardly recognised some of them, and of course most of them didn't recognise me. After that, we headed to straight to the Silver Springs hotel in Cork and once I got in the door I descended on the free sparkling wine that was provided in the foyer. After that it was into the reception room to sit down to our meal.
It was then that things got a bit more interesting. Because our father was absent, it was decided that I would take his place at the top of the table. It was also decided, not long before the speeches were to start, that I would have to say a few words on his behalf. I was momentarily assailed by waves of terror, but I got it together. By the time my turn came, I'd had a few glasses of wine and was full of my own importance. After being handed the microphone, I started off inauspiciously, but then decided to improvise.
"Paul and Claire's relationship reminded me of Cathy and Heathcliff's in Wuthering Heights", I declared to Claire's bemusement, "but we've got a happy ending in this one". Falling in love with the sound of my own voice, I continued: "There have been quite a few contenders over the years for who would be my sister-in-law", to which the whole place gave a big 'Ooooooh!', "but I'm glad Claire has become the one".
Once I had called a toast and sat down again, I felt as if I had been a bit artless, but everyone seemed to like it, although my brother-in-law said that it was a bit like the Italian Job: I went right to the edge and then braked.
The rest of the night was a blur. The white wine that my glass was constantly being topped up with was maybe the best I've ever had, and I partook liberally. After a while I ended up buzzing around talking to loads of different people and giving one or two men the eye. One such example was my step-brother, the son of my brother's birthmother (my brother was adopted). He had acquired a beard since I saw him last, and was looking distinctly wolfish. Sample: "Matthew, as my step-brother, it would be WRONG to say that you look distinctly doable with your current look. Very wrong indeed". To which he guffawed. Then there was another bloke. He looked at me with fear in his eyes.
The night finished well. I found out that two people I had always liked were now engaged ("Catherine and Peds! Paul and Claire may have been my Cathy and Heathcliff, but ye were always my Romeo and Juliet! Oh, and make SURE you send me an invite to the wedding!") and I rang in the new year by hugging just about every one of the 300-odd people who attended. Then there was an indie disco (Gotta love that category) where we took a trip down memory lane moshing like madmen to Smashing Pumpkins, Nirvana, The Sultans of Ping FC, and God knows what else.
After that, I went to see about which room I was in. It transpired that my parents hadn't booked me into one after all, even though they'd said they'd had, so I ended up having to wake up one of my cousins at about 4am and sleep on the floor in their room.
The morning rise was horrendous. My cousin woke me, saying that my mother was downstairs waiting for me and was driving home in 10 minutes. I stood up, racked with the mother of all hangovers, and staggered into the bathroom. Once it became apparent that I wasn't going to puke there and then, I put on my jacket and shuffled downstairs, shirt still open halfway down my chest. I went to the bar and met one of the tenders from the night before, with a big smirk on his face. "Orange Juice", I slurred. "Certainly", he replied. I annhilated it in under 2 seconds.
I got a drive home and once our destination was reached, I got into bed and slept for a few glorious hours.
Looking back on the whole thing, it was quite a success. I had wondered what it would be like having very few of my friends there, as they didn't really know my brother well enough to come, and had their own plans anyway, but it ended up for the best, as they ended up in different locations, scattered throughout the region. This has been as good a new year's as any I've ever had.
The one major fly in the ointment was, with the crisis of my father not coming, my mother and I forgot to bring the digital camera. The evening has been well documented, as loads of others brought theirs, it just means I don't have any decent pictures immediately to hand to put up here. It's a shame. Apart from anything else, I wanted the world to know what I looked like with a dickie bow and a tux with tails. Perhaps if they're forthcoming from other people.
On reflection, my brother's friends, a bunch I didn't always believe would be the most focussed of people, really came through for him, and I really didn't have that much involvement at all. I still have kind of mixed feelings about this. My brother was the black sheep of the family for quite some time when he was younger, and this may explain why, even now, that his friends seem to enjoy a place in his life that is at least - if not more than - of equal importance than his immediate family. My mother had asked me over Christmas if we still got on, and the truth is he can still be slightly hard to take sometimes. Having said that, I was still paying attention to how much our immediate family was involved over the day. It shouldn't have bothered me, it certainly didn't when my sister got married 10 years ago, maybe I'm just being a bit paranoid. He asked one of his long-term friends to be the best man (thank God his speech came after mine, so he could put my Wuthering Heights reference into context), and I never heard anything about his stag party in Hamburg. But that may have been because I think I once said that I wouldn't be able to afford it, studying in Brighton as I am.
He and his wife are now en route to their honeymoon. They flew to Gatwick today. They had no idea where they were going after that, they were just going to jump on a cheap flight and head somewhere warm. Not a bad idea at all...
So that's it. Major event of the year over for us. Back down to earth with a bang. Bah!
Thursday, December 28, 2006
The Dutch have arrived
There are around twenty aryan-looking people squashed around our dining room table, all yabbering at each other.
My mother woke me at the ungodly hour of 9:30 this morning, telling me she was off to the airport to meet the relatives. "There are 18 bread rolls out in the kitchen", she declared. "I want them all buttered and ready to be served when I get back. Be sure to heat up the two huge saucepans of soup as well. That'll take at least half an hour". "Haven't you realised by now," I returned, "that anytime before 1pm is not good for me".
"Tough titty. See you in an hour, and don't you dare go back to sleep".
God above, the things I have to deal with.
So things (and my mother along with them) are only going to get more frantic between now and Sunday.
As an aside, my father's broadband provider is really starting to do my head in. The most harmless of sites are blocked, being categorized as sex sites or occult sites (never heard of the latter rating in content filters before) and they can only be temporarily unblocked for upto 8 hours. It's not that big a deal, as since it was me that set up the connection, I know all the passwords for changing the settings, but it's more than a little irritating. The provider is gaelic.ie, set up in connection with the GAA of Ireland, and it's more than a little reflective of the values of its parent organisation. Newsflash, boys: youtube is not what anyone with half a brain would consider a sex site.
My mother woke me at the ungodly hour of 9:30 this morning, telling me she was off to the airport to meet the relatives. "There are 18 bread rolls out in the kitchen", she declared. "I want them all buttered and ready to be served when I get back. Be sure to heat up the two huge saucepans of soup as well. That'll take at least half an hour". "Haven't you realised by now," I returned, "that anytime before 1pm is not good for me".
"Tough titty. See you in an hour, and don't you dare go back to sleep".
God above, the things I have to deal with.
So things (and my mother along with them) are only going to get more frantic between now and Sunday.
As an aside, my father's broadband provider is really starting to do my head in. The most harmless of sites are blocked, being categorized as sex sites or occult sites (never heard of the latter rating in content filters before) and they can only be temporarily unblocked for upto 8 hours. It's not that big a deal, as since it was me that set up the connection, I know all the passwords for changing the settings, but it's more than a little irritating. The provider is gaelic.ie, set up in connection with the GAA of Ireland, and it's more than a little reflective of the values of its parent organisation. Newsflash, boys: youtube is not what anyone with half a brain would consider a sex site.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Ho ho ho
It's been a bit of a mixed bag.
Most of my family have come down with some illness or other in the last few days. We had Christmas dinner at my sister's this 25th, and in a particularly cruel irony, she herself was unable to taste it, having completely lost her sense of smell. I myself still had a bit of an earache on the day, but it's gone now. Yesterday was pretty good though, as I had rather a lot to drink last night and met loads of people who I hadn't seen since last Christmas and probably won't see until this time next year. I ended up at a house party, and got home at around 5am or something like that.
Some of the people I know don't have much of a sense of ceremony about going out at Christmas though, which is a bit annoying as when I come home, I'm generally raring to go. Or maybe it's the fact that every pub was packed to the rafters last night. Oh well...
My brother's wedding is on Sunday, and the dutch side of the family are all arriving at the airport tomorrow. My mother is catastrophising left, right and centre as she's still feeling a bit sick, and is worrying more than usual about getting better in time for the wedding. I can understand, but anytime I tell her to GO TO BED AND TAKE IT EASY she dismisses it, saying she has too much to do, and ignores any offers we make to do things for her. There's nothing like a couple of obstacles being thrown in my mother's path to send her into a full-blown panic, and she is not one to suffer in silence.
Because of the wedding, Christmas has taken a bit of a back seat this year for us. None of us bothered to try and surprise each other with regard to presents. I got my brother a CD and kept the receipt so he can change it if he wants. I asked for Armistead Maupin's Tales From the City, which I've heard good things about. My father has just given it to me. All three of the titles.
So roll on Sunday. Thanks be to God I don't have to do any speeches. Thank God.
Most of my family have come down with some illness or other in the last few days. We had Christmas dinner at my sister's this 25th, and in a particularly cruel irony, she herself was unable to taste it, having completely lost her sense of smell. I myself still had a bit of an earache on the day, but it's gone now. Yesterday was pretty good though, as I had rather a lot to drink last night and met loads of people who I hadn't seen since last Christmas and probably won't see until this time next year. I ended up at a house party, and got home at around 5am or something like that.
Some of the people I know don't have much of a sense of ceremony about going out at Christmas though, which is a bit annoying as when I come home, I'm generally raring to go. Or maybe it's the fact that every pub was packed to the rafters last night. Oh well...
My brother's wedding is on Sunday, and the dutch side of the family are all arriving at the airport tomorrow. My mother is catastrophising left, right and centre as she's still feeling a bit sick, and is worrying more than usual about getting better in time for the wedding. I can understand, but anytime I tell her to GO TO BED AND TAKE IT EASY she dismisses it, saying she has too much to do, and ignores any offers we make to do things for her. There's nothing like a couple of obstacles being thrown in my mother's path to send her into a full-blown panic, and she is not one to suffer in silence.
Because of the wedding, Christmas has taken a bit of a back seat this year for us. None of us bothered to try and surprise each other with regard to presents. I got my brother a CD and kept the receipt so he can change it if he wants. I asked for Armistead Maupin's Tales From the City, which I've heard good things about. My father has just given it to me. All three of the titles.
So roll on Sunday. Thanks be to God I don't have to do any speeches. Thank God.
Saturday, December 23, 2006
At home again
I'm at home, since last Saturday, the 16th.
Little did I know that as I began my descent into Cork, events were taking place in my left eardrum that would lay the foundation for a very unpleasant couple of days ahead.
At the start of this week, a pain had appeared in my left ear. Attempts to disinfect with olive-oil-soaked cotton wool balls failed miserably, and a couple of days later, I was unable to sleep, such was my agony. I also found it very difficult to have conversations with people who were anywhere in the vicinity of my left side, or watch films on TV at night, such was the deafness that had taken hold in my left ear. I hauled myself off to the doctor, and he prescribed a five-day course of amoxycillin. He also recommended an over-the-counter lotion with a dropper that you use to put the liquid into your ear. I used this once, and shortly afterwards, the entire left side of my head felt like it was going to explode, so I'm not continuing with that one.
So that's it. Antibiotics over Christmas. Which means very little alcohol (I don't think alcohol is advised against when taking amoxycillin but there's NO WAY I'm running the risk of that pain making a reappearance. I'm only just about back to normal now).
In other news, my parents are starting to embrace the 21st century. I came home to see a widescreen LCD tv in the sitting room. There was also a broadband router AND DVD/VCR combi waiting to be setup. My parents can be quite clever about these things. They buy them just before Christmas, when they know I'm coming home, and then don't touch them until I'm in the door, knowing they can count on me to do it all.
But thank GOD. Mallow may still suck compared to Brighton, but it's a bit more bearable now.
That bear I was supposed to meet on Friday before I left Brighton texted and cancelled at the last minute, so an opportunity for hot gratuitous sex was lost to me. Perhaps in the new year...
The preparations for the wedding grind on. Like a lot of women in such a position, the bride-to-be has turned into a bit of a psychopath, and has already fallen out with, and subsequently replaced, the two bridesmaids that she had lined up. They had been friends for almost 20 years. That's enough of a catastrophe. Hopefully there won't be any more.
In other news, I've been helping my mother type up a list of dutch recipes given to us by our relatives across the pond. The relatives had tried translating the recipes using an online translation tool, but had come up with some truly hilarious results. Pigs Head stuffed with cheese had come up as (fnar fnar) Head Cheese, and my favourite, Water-based Gruel had come up as 'Water Horror'. An interesting name for a horror film, that one would be. Anyway, it's done now, so my brother the chef will be getting a bound book of traditional dutch recipes as one of his wedding presents. He'd better apprecitate it.
Now I have to go and help my mother polish silver.
(P.S. I know I've been getting really bad at regular updates. I promise I'll try and keep you all scintillated over Christmas. Ta ra)
Little did I know that as I began my descent into Cork, events were taking place in my left eardrum that would lay the foundation for a very unpleasant couple of days ahead.
At the start of this week, a pain had appeared in my left ear. Attempts to disinfect with olive-oil-soaked cotton wool balls failed miserably, and a couple of days later, I was unable to sleep, such was my agony. I also found it very difficult to have conversations with people who were anywhere in the vicinity of my left side, or watch films on TV at night, such was the deafness that had taken hold in my left ear. I hauled myself off to the doctor, and he prescribed a five-day course of amoxycillin. He also recommended an over-the-counter lotion with a dropper that you use to put the liquid into your ear. I used this once, and shortly afterwards, the entire left side of my head felt like it was going to explode, so I'm not continuing with that one.
So that's it. Antibiotics over Christmas. Which means very little alcohol (I don't think alcohol is advised against when taking amoxycillin but there's NO WAY I'm running the risk of that pain making a reappearance. I'm only just about back to normal now).
In other news, my parents are starting to embrace the 21st century. I came home to see a widescreen LCD tv in the sitting room. There was also a broadband router AND DVD/VCR combi waiting to be setup. My parents can be quite clever about these things. They buy them just before Christmas, when they know I'm coming home, and then don't touch them until I'm in the door, knowing they can count on me to do it all.
But thank GOD. Mallow may still suck compared to Brighton, but it's a bit more bearable now.
That bear I was supposed to meet on Friday before I left Brighton texted and cancelled at the last minute, so an opportunity for hot gratuitous sex was lost to me. Perhaps in the new year...
The preparations for the wedding grind on. Like a lot of women in such a position, the bride-to-be has turned into a bit of a psychopath, and has already fallen out with, and subsequently replaced, the two bridesmaids that she had lined up. They had been friends for almost 20 years. That's enough of a catastrophe. Hopefully there won't be any more.
In other news, I've been helping my mother type up a list of dutch recipes given to us by our relatives across the pond. The relatives had tried translating the recipes using an online translation tool, but had come up with some truly hilarious results. Pigs Head stuffed with cheese had come up as (fnar fnar) Head Cheese, and my favourite, Water-based Gruel had come up as 'Water Horror'. An interesting name for a horror film, that one would be. Anyway, it's done now, so my brother the chef will be getting a bound book of traditional dutch recipes as one of his wedding presents. He'd better apprecitate it.
Now I have to go and help my mother polish silver.
(P.S. I know I've been getting really bad at regular updates. I promise I'll try and keep you all scintillated over Christmas. Ta ra)
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
The Cock
I haven't written about any trysts with men for some time now, mostly because at the time I couldn't be bothered. But then I thought, well, half the reason I started this blog was to record them. So. An update.
It's either feast or famine when it has come to the men in my life lately, but I appear to be in the middle of a feast at the moment. It's about time.
Daffy hasn't been on the scene for a while now. It's a shame. As much as I know he's not boyfriend material, having one of his own already, he's still fun to be around. Oh well, maybe I'll see him around.
There was that time recently where I went out with Dan and June to celebrate the anniversary of their first date. Once that finished, I headed into the Bulldog and netted myself a man. As we headed back to his, he announced that he had a boyfriend. "Where is he?" asketh I. "In prison" replied the object of my desires. "Cripes" said I, "what for?". "I don't really want to talk about it", respondeth he.
We had much fun, but I hope it wasn't GBH or murder his boyfriend was in for, otherwise I may have to flee the country when he gets out.
On sunday night, I arranged to rendez-vous with a smouldering polar bear in the Star Inn. I thought we'd have time to go back to his after our drink, but he had to move on and meet other friends, though I might be able to pencil him in before I head back to Ireland on Saturday.
After he'd left, reinforcements were summoned, and I ended up staying for a few more. The Star has now set up its own playroom. As most of the crowd there weren't taking advantage of the opportunity, I waited until a burly person I've had my eye on went in there, and I followed him in. Some fun was had.
After that, I went to the Bulldog, and after a while, I made eye contact (and then mouth contact very quickly after that) with a hot skin bear. Locked in a passionate embrace, we took turns to pin each other against the wall. We're meeting at mine on Friday after lectures at about 3pm. I'm looking forward to it, and he's well-endowed, apart from anything else. Of course, as luck would have it, he's in a relationship, albeit an open one. Oh well...
Then there's Nuclear Physics Bear, who I'm still in touch with. We've been sending each other filthy texts lately, and now that I've got a camera phone, saucy pictures as well. One of them is currently being used as wallpaper on my phone. He hasn't been back to Brighton since Pride this summer, but there might be some potential there. He's single, at least.
It's either feast or famine when it has come to the men in my life lately, but I appear to be in the middle of a feast at the moment. It's about time.
Daffy hasn't been on the scene for a while now. It's a shame. As much as I know he's not boyfriend material, having one of his own already, he's still fun to be around. Oh well, maybe I'll see him around.
There was that time recently where I went out with Dan and June to celebrate the anniversary of their first date. Once that finished, I headed into the Bulldog and netted myself a man. As we headed back to his, he announced that he had a boyfriend. "Where is he?" asketh I. "In prison" replied the object of my desires. "Cripes" said I, "what for?". "I don't really want to talk about it", respondeth he.
We had much fun, but I hope it wasn't GBH or murder his boyfriend was in for, otherwise I may have to flee the country when he gets out.
On sunday night, I arranged to rendez-vous with a smouldering polar bear in the Star Inn. I thought we'd have time to go back to his after our drink, but he had to move on and meet other friends, though I might be able to pencil him in before I head back to Ireland on Saturday.
After he'd left, reinforcements were summoned, and I ended up staying for a few more. The Star has now set up its own playroom. As most of the crowd there weren't taking advantage of the opportunity, I waited until a burly person I've had my eye on went in there, and I followed him in. Some fun was had.
After that, I went to the Bulldog, and after a while, I made eye contact (and then mouth contact very quickly after that) with a hot skin bear. Locked in a passionate embrace, we took turns to pin each other against the wall. We're meeting at mine on Friday after lectures at about 3pm. I'm looking forward to it, and he's well-endowed, apart from anything else. Of course, as luck would have it, he's in a relationship, albeit an open one. Oh well...
Then there's Nuclear Physics Bear, who I'm still in touch with. We've been sending each other filthy texts lately, and now that I've got a camera phone, saucy pictures as well. One of them is currently being used as wallpaper on my phone. He hasn't been back to Brighton since Pride this summer, but there might be some potential there. He's single, at least.
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