Friday, February 24, 2017

Too Boring For A Title

Ziigy and I took it upon ourselves to book a dog friendly B&B in Cushendall. We spent last Saturday night in solitary bliss after a pleasant walk along the cliff side. On Sunday we took a walk along the beach and it felt very much like spring. The lady who runs the B&B had offered to look after Ziggy so I took her up on this offer so I could get a bit of dinner at one of the local restaurants. When I arrived back I was offered a glass of wine. Having been anti-social the night before I thought it would be nice to get to know my host. She was due to go for dinner with a friend who was making a fleeting visit but a guest was due to checck in and she felt anxious about not knowing what time he'd get there. I told her to go out anyway and I would hold the fort and show him his room. What I really wanted was another night of solitude in my very lovely room but sometimes my desire to be of service to others overrides what I want.

As it turns out the guest who arrived was a lovely person. I showed him around, offered him a cigarette and within 20 minutes we were tackling the deep and meaningful. Our host came back and asked us if we'd like to go to the local pub where we were regaled with traditional music, dancing and singing. The next morning our host drove us to Glenariff forest, which happens to be one of my favourite places up here in the North. Then it was back to butts, back to class, driving lessons, study, counselling and all those things that keep me out of trouble and moving forward.

I do realise it's a disgrace that this is only my second post of the year. But there has been nothing new to say. Gus and I did another open mic night. We didn't corpse and we're playing again tonight at an ice cream parlour. We've had some great nights here at chez Nellybert's jamming with The dog's Dogfather and Mr. Banjo. Tobe, the GCDC's bass player has been around for some fun and vegan food also.

Bobo productions is sizzling away in the background. Creativity abounds and new songs about potatoes and being deadly serious are on the horizon. But, whilst it's important to make time for fun and games lurking at the back of my mind is the fact that I have assignments and deadlines to meet for my course. Hoops to jump, boxes to tick and mountains to climb. But for once in my life I actually believe I can do it.

Thursday, January 05, 2017

First Post of the Year...Don't Get Too Excited

So there you jolly well, flippin' well, blinkin' well go! That's all that nonsense over and done with for another year. This year was the best Christmas I've had in a long time. It didn't take much. All that was required was me not having a broken heart, the cat not peeing on me, not being too sick to eat dinner and dinner being gorgeous because it wasn't a strange clove infused curry. Simples.

New Year was also fun and I even made it to midnight. And now I'm off work for the next three days. I'm almost scared to say it but I think I've just got caught up with myself. I will enjoy this little sea of tranquility because next week the madness begins again giving me the heebie jeebies.

On Christmas day the dogs and I walked down the back lane and t'rough the t'ick of the woods. There was absolute joy in my heart for being in those woods and not having to race back to do coursework. On New Years Day we did the same only Gus joined us. He lisitened to my sinister "woods" song and laughed at my impressions of a wild pig.

Today Ziggy and I are for the beach with a lovely chica I work with. The last time I was asked to go to the beach Ziggy wasn't allowed. We're leaving at 9 and it is now 10 past 8 and Ziggy is still lying under the blankets in bed snoring. The lazy brute. The sun is only just coming up now but I am hopeful it's going to be one of those bright, brisk days. Better wrap up warm. Last night I dreamt of old ladies mittens. The ones that are fur lined and suede on the outside. I also realised yesterday that the span of my hand covers my whole face.

So, off and off I go, to get ready for the beach.

Wednesday, December 21, 2016

It's About Time

All those times I slept for 10+ hours at night, I smugly banked them. I knew one day that I would be thankful. I didn't need to see the Great Eclipse of 2000 and whenever. I am also grateful for the fact that I have not wiled hours away watching things like Grease and the LOFT trilogy, or anything else that is deemed as a "must see". I will, however, spend the length of time it takes to watch a film trawling the internet looking for the most obscure/disturbing/enlightening film I can find only to realise that I have no time to wetch it.

But time is such an illusion and so the waste of it is purely subjective. The ways in which I have chosen to "waste" time have been:

Waiting - mostly for transport. I have been also known to wait for lost luggage, technicians, treehouses and soulmates
Sleeping - for me, the nectar of the Gods, the one true escape from reality
Befriending animals - from potentially rabid dogs in Thailand to wee tired and hungry wasps called Julien...One for all and all for One
Getting to Know Myself - not exactly a waste of time but a lot of time has been devoted to it and sometimes the process of getting to know oneself involves a whole lot of nothing in particular, or waiting for transport.

Time, and our use of it, really is matter of perspective. Some people don't have time to wait in queues, or talk to random strangers in the street. Some people think time is money. Time is a construct and it has been constructed to keep us within the regimented timetables ascribed to us by someone else. This is why bosses say "You're on my time now". When I worked in Thailand, they operated in Thai Time, meaning things would get done but only after food had been consumed, naps were taken and it was remembered whatever it was that needed to be done in the first place.

Time is a matter of consequence, and some believe that matter can travel through time. But that's a tricky buisness to be involved in and one that I may or may not get round to blogging about.

Friday, December 16, 2016

GCDCs Debut

I feel like today is a lucky day for me. I had looked forward to the year 2016 because my fascination with the number 216 made me hopeful that it would be a good year for me. It wasn't that awesome but it wasn't bloody awful either. I think the general consensus, however, is that 2016 has been a pretty shitty year all around the world. Oh, and the only reason this year wasn't bloody awful is because I moved back home at just the right time. I said to moms that I really didn't think I would have coped living in the flat, struggling with everything on my own.

I have been much too drained to keep up any kind of online presence. I have one more week of mentalness and then a relaxing 3 day break to look forward to. I've almost made it. This is the very pinnacle of surfing the blowhole. Last week I hit a brick wall. Everything seemed bleak. The week before that I overthought myself into a frenzy that I think too much to become a counsellor. You can think yourself round in circles like a dog chasing it's tail. Just as fruitless though a lot less fun. And with confidence in tatters as usual I mustered another little last ounce of strength. I used it to sing a few songs at Uncle T's open mic night. Gus helped. He helped a lot by playing the wrong chords which resulted in us laughing which kinda made people interested. We played to a small but friendly and supportive crowd who were full of compliments afterwards.

Almost just as exciting as that, and a big part of the reason why I feel today is a lucky day, my new Irish passport arrived which means I can think about getting a small break away somewhere. It's great being so easily pleased :)

Friday, November 25, 2016

Boy Child Wonder Dog

I came home today to discover that Ziggy has been writing a draft for the Palace:


Hannah wakes up for work super early. She faffs around downstairs then she comes back up to do her hair. This is when I retreat beneath the blankets. I don't like the stuff she sprays in her hair. She doesn't do it every morning but I am like Pavlov's dog and as soon as I see her sitting in the 'getting ready' spot I dive under. I sleep until I hear Granny getting up. I stir but I decide it's still too early. When I hear Bert getting up I know the day is beginning. I go downstairs. Granny lets me and the other dogs out. She sometimes shouts "Ev" as she does this. Since granny and I are highly attuned I know this is short for "Everybody out!".

I do my buisness and then wait at the door for someone to let me in. I go for my second snooze of the day, sometimes on the sofa, sometimes back in bed. Visitors may come and I am compelled to bark and greet them excitedly. Eventually, Hannah comes home. I get very excited to see her and a little cross at all the others dogs crowding round her. I am also reminded, when Hannah arrives, that I have much coveted rawhide sticks that my BFF Gus brought round. I go into territorial mode. I may bark and worry at things below the sofa just to let Hannah know that she has been missed by me and I have all this awesome stuff to show her how well I can chew and guard and so on, so forth and suchlike.

Then Hannah goes upstairs to study. I go for my third snooze of the day. She works real hard with frequent breaks to talk to me and tell me she loves and how handsome I am. I sigh contentedly. Dinner comes a few hours later and I like to hang out with Granny in the kitchen for an hour just in case I get a treat. Granny doesn't even make me do tricks for them.

I often go to bed with Hannah but I may be up and down like a yoyo. Things that will stir me are; the clattering of pots and pans - this could potentially mean Granny is cooking, visitors calling - it's like a game of "who's it going to be?" and it pretty much doesn't matter who it's going to be because I'll get some kind of pat on the head. I forgot to mention, I have taken to going out in the evening and barking incessantly for at least 20 minutes. It just feels good to let the whole countryside know that I'm here and I've got all this rawhide and nobody's getting any!

Tuesday, November 22, 2016

Yes I'm Going to Cry

I re-sat my theory test on Wednesday as it had expired. I passed so that was a relief. I recorded 2 sessions with 2 different clients and that was also a relief as I have a deadline for that piece of work looming. So When I went to sleep on Wednesday night my body and mind must have relaxed and I fell into such a deep sleep that I slept through 3 alarms. I made it into work on time but I was drained. A work colleague told me I looked awful and I went to the toilets and cried. This has been a problem for me for a while. Crying when I really don't want to be. Hence; no more tears on the floor for the girl who lives in her coat.

It seemed to be correlating with my monthly howl at the moon cycle so I went on the pill to see if I could fool my body into thinking it was pregnant. I tried it out for a month and it made me feel worse in the long run. The trial and error rule applies to everything and I'm left now with the option of just accepting I'm going to be a big weepy, emotional wet blanket for at least one day of the month. So what! Yes I am going to cry because that bull looked so happy when it was freed, yes I'm going to cry when I spend all day looking at babies and am reminded that I don't have any, yes, I'm going to cry when I think about how much I love Ziggy, yes I'm going to cry when one of the bad girls from the Bad Girls Club is crying. I'm going to cry when I feel like crying and I'm going to stop trying to control these emotions that are embarassing and cumbersome.

And while I let those emotions flow freely within me and without me, then there is room for the happiness to flow within me and without me. Moms is sorting her computing room out this week so we can light fires and make it cosy. I need to seek out the beauty and joys of winter because they are there just the same as the cold and darkness.

Saturday, November 12, 2016


I am pleased and a little surprised to report that the coursework is going ok. There's still a month until deadlines and I've made a good dent. Surely no last minute panic and annoyance. I will, of course, leave the referencing 'til the last day, about 10 minutes before it's due to be handed in, just so I can inflict some uneccesary stress on my heart. Just so it feels like I've really accomplished something.

In my first year at uni I took an elective module called 'Stars'. It was about famous people, actors and suchlike. The essay was a critique of a stars perfromance in a movie and I chose to do it on Courtney Love's role in The People Vs Larry Flynt. To be perfectly honest, I was out of my depth. I just liked her but I hadn't a damned notion about her acting abilities. It was a 3000 word essay and it caused me pull my hair out and curse the tutor who took the class. I handed it in the day I was flying back home for Christmas. It was a mess but it was done. I then complained about the ridiculous word count to a fellow student in the union about half an hour later. He informed me that the essay was only meant to be 1000 words. The tutor probably wouldn't even mark it.

I ran to the admissions desk and asked for my essay back. I sat in the union and scribbled out paragraph after paragraph. The sweet and kind Dirt Bird offered to retype it for me and hand it in on my behalf. Disaster was avoided. After Christmas I went to collect my work. I was amazed to see one of the best marks I have ever received for an assignment. The tutors comments started off "Hannah, I liked your essay!" So, when it came to editing out all the waffle I actually had some good thoughts. Which was to question how much Courtney Love was actually "acting" in the movie and how much she was just playing herself. I don't care. I'm glad she's not my mum but I still think she's cool.