The Love of My Life (and other furry animals)

This evening marks the four week anniversary to the day of my arrival to this wondrous land. Some of you may think it rather poignant that I have chosen today to write this post, those amongst you who know any better are aware that I've been too busy trying to achieve this. And failing miserably. Interestingly enough, that link is one of only 4 bookmarks on my Google Chrome.

Here is an assortment of things I have done (roughly) chronologically pre and post repatriation.

1. Morgan, Jason and I did something no man shall ever again achieve without incurring a high risk of heart disease and ate our way through realistically six times the average serving of Korean Barbeque. Though the last mango and sticky rice made the shine leave Morgan's eyes despite the recommended mint ice-cream palate cleanser, plans are in the pipeline for a plaque to be erected on Nathan Rd. where we crawled, dribbling, onto a bus bound for Lee On.

2. Glenda took me to see Hong Kong. Two years late, but I did appreciate it. There was plenty of food involved in that too. Sticky photos made me a little overexcited.

3. I went to the absolute back arse of an tSín. Like, Tajikistan way. 33 train tickets and a motley crew of Dilene, Halfdan, Adam and I left Hong Kong and returned sans tickets and Halfdan. We saw some yaks, ate our weight in lamb fat (excluding Dilly; she's a vegan with her own hemp footwear range), were almost always (in my eyes) excruciatingly late for trains (so much so that once when myself and Dilene were happily smug in our carriage whilst the rest bought noodles at the pace of a latino - surprisingly with only one present in the form of Pao - I almost wanted them to miss it for schadenfreude-y purposes), flew a beautiful kite called Mr./Mrs. Happy (depending on your take on gender constructs), sang a horrific rendition of Óró Sé Do Bheatha Bhaile in a strange Tibetan hostel 3000m above sea level amidst drunken Tibetan chanting, got ripped off by a baller in a yellow shirt with a popped collar and a smoking rate of 4 a minute, played Counter Strike in a smoke filled cavern of death, coconut juice, bitchslayers and G.Daddy Halfi's, wound up in the dodgiest amusement park the world has ever known (the one that sometimes comes to Gowran is like Oakwood in comparison), became the face of Urumqi Vogue following an impromptu photoshoot in the park and almost bought a burqa for Parker. 

4. Had Anna come to visit. Despite woe-filled tales of rain and depression, we actually had an incredibly pleasant time, much to the disappointment of my love of self (and country)-deprecation. There was drinking on the 'nal, cartoned white wine to Fergie's Glamorous on the beach, and a visit to the Natural History Museum Dead Zoo where we found a melodramatic bat and a couple of sloths. 

5. Went to Body and Soul avec le Morg. Interacted on a personal level with (read: groped/waved deliriously at) Wallis Bird, SOLANGE (that's only a few strands of DNA from Queen B and upping the cool stakes), Nick Cave, and the love of my life, David Kitt whom I got to sign a ratty napkin with "KITTSER MY CAMERA WAS STOLEN WILL YOU SHIFT ME?" written on it. He gave me the greatest hug and signed it with "big shifts, kittser xxx" so I reckon I have a massively decent chance when he comes to Kilkenny. Also met Longford's self-proclaimed greatest Nick Cave fan who was a bit Paolo Nutini-esque, enjoyed saying "unreal" and accidentally got me drunk on something out of a plastic bottle.

6. Became opinionated on the abortion bill. Sorry but if a woman can't get urgent medical treatment that might affect her fetus because both of their lives are worth the same then surely it's worse if two lives are lost as opposed to just one.

7. Rediscovered the rabbits. Some say they will outlast even cockroaches in the event of a nuclear fallout. All I know is that I think we've had them since I was in fifth class. Cookie (much to her disgust) has become my replacement for human contact, though it's a matter of days before she retaliates fiercely to my insistent whispering of "WHO'S MY BESTEST BUD NOW".

8. Became the proud owner of a debit card. This shall be my demise. Purchases so far include Polish bus tickets and a beanbag shaped like a wombat (the second part's a lie, but the internet is such a fabulous place).

9. Abandoned blog writing in favour of tea.

Disorientation Week: take 2

I said this to someone recently, that I wasn't sure whether I was going home or leaving home, and was heartily reassured that that disorientation would affect me from now onwards. On the morn of my graduation, and second last night in school (provided I'm able to leave at all considering the fact that my clearance form has gone walkabouts), here's me summing up not just positives and negatives but the lifestyle of this 70's prison we call a school and a home, in comparison to what I remember of the home I'll be back to in two weeks.

Leaving home means no more Hui Lau Shan  Forked lighning Cockroaches in the sink  Interdorming Mosquito bites  Free hair cuts Block 3 pizza/cha siu fan Wearing only leggings Internet ban  Glenda sneezes  Pressure in the third shower  Kowloon Dairy  Stairs  Boones  Signing in and out  Jubes  Check in  Ants in the 4th toilet Walking on the grey tiles in the rain IB  Ordering in broken canto MTR  Skyscrapers  Effective public transport Free airport wifi Humidity  MOS apple pies  Living opposite a mountain  Swimming with no swimcap  Waterfall  HK City Hall Library days Wellcome  Baozi  Typhoons  Fro Yo  Chocolate powder ice-cream sauce  Red taxis  Sneaking out  Gatings  Canteen parties  Trams  Dragon boat  Cheap postage  YMCA roof  Mee & Gee atrocities Pretending to be a tourist Lung cancer  Brunch  Expats  Custard buns  Service planning  Thai curry for lunch Drinking in the street People who can dance Latinas  Paisanos  Sad nights in the library Broken curtain rails Student kitchen produce Chungking Mansions Linda e-mails (plz god) Air con 681, A41p, k807, 299, 1A  Phytoplankton  BOB Brown line Design labs La Bodega Rush at Mong Kok Worrying about Steve/Trevor/Brian being in the gym Lee On McDonalds Smirnoff Slushees Bubble Tea Annoying birds Managebac Grand dictations Condensed milk toast GIFs Travelling with Maddie In my country... Broken bikes Pacific Place toilets Egg waffles Concrete Hot rain Arrogant Frog Lino floor Angry cicadas Trevor whiteboard Mass e-mails Block 2 bench

Going home means more Baths Stocked fridges Come Dine With Me Town Reese's peanut butter cups Real milk Penney's The nal Sessions Cycling Breathable air Dore's Rabbits BBC radio 4 Putting on the dishwasher Texting Doing Clob's hair Tea (!) Bulmers Green Stir frys Getting lifts Sheep Sleep Weeding Body & Soul Rain Mint Crisp days Billy Byrnes The Rocco's/Larkin's debate Of Clody's elbow's in my tea Calling dinner tea Saying rubbers, plasters, rubbish bins, pavements America's Next Top Model Castle park Curry chips Dip dabs Shifting, less making out Arts Festival Langers and lickdipses Eating bread rolls whilst going round Supervalu Tracy's treehouse Shops closing at 6 Top 40 Oifigiúil na hÉireann Sitting in a car Darkness at night Museli Leprechauns Talking in tea rooms God awful attempts at customising clothes Ditto going to the gym Dressing gowns Camping It being hotter inside than outside Muller corners Privacy Records Chapattis Scacraicbant Badedas Stars Jenkinstown Picnics outta Dunnes New socks Boredom Sitting by the old pool eating Dominos' meateor Downloading films Sue Ryder shop Poulanassy Loud music Bedroom dancing Jaffa cakes G.O.L.D. Flash animation Hoovering Parents BBQ Hula Hoops Beat the bomb Change in jellies Regularly washed clothes Time for Soggy Twiglets?

For Want Of A Play Review

On Tuesday evening my household had the pleasure of holding the monthly Justin Bieber Convention. To escape obsessed adolescents I decided to go see this.

And it was megaquarefuppinCLAAAASS so it was! Now I know today's, wha, Thursday, but it runs until Saturday so if you haven't seen it then just feckin go. Srsly. I won't spoil nowt for yis cause reviewing a play would seem too much like some sort of homework of the Junior Cert kind, a long buried memory of a yoke.

After a loffley evening stroll down the parade cause Becky and I weren't sure where we were getting collected, I returned to the eh...party, and so proceeded to drown my sorrows in Nick Drake, tea, and stolen Heroes from downstairs.