| I just wrote a passive-aggressive note for the Embassy waiting room. Sample sentences were:
"The embassy cannot process your application until you have paid the fee. The closest ATMs are on ..."
and
"EU heads of unit, chefs de cabinet and other officials, albeit of high ranking within the EU institutions, are not acceptable witnesses unless they are a member of one of the professions indicated in section 9."
How long til it makes it to www.passiveaggressivenotes.com?
It's my only, last hope for fame. Sob... | comments: 3 comments or Leave a comment   |
| I've been watching the french equiv of Big Brothrt for the last two weeks. Brian, Jonty and co. just don't compare to Maxime, Xavier, Julien and Gabriel...
In other news, after NINETEEN entire days of celibacy I got really drunk on Saturday, snogged some guy, brought him home amd promptly fell asleep- fully clothed. Last night I then got really drunk, snogged some guy, brought him to a party and then fell asleep. Zzzz... p o i n t l e s s | | comments: Leave a comment |
| I was thinking today about couples. Something in me likes the idea of mismatches. I met this guy in Brussels- right TOTALLY nothing in common- but isn't that sort of appealling?
Like when you see a really attractive girl with a slightly ugly guy... you- or *I* should I say- think: oh, their relationship must be based on something much deeper and more wonderful than looks or shared interests... it must be really real!
Like a shakespearean couple, all mismatched and tortured. Your friends saying "what do you *see* in him!?"
It's a retort, right? A statement. "I am more subtle than that. My tastes more complicated, my needs less base, less obvious than yours. What, you thought I wanted a medical doctor with boyish good looks, muscles, five foreign languages, a huge indie music collection, a selection of vintage adidas tracksuit tops and a gold amex? What a common sort of boyfriend, what pedestrian tastes..."
Sort of like one of those fairy stories where the heroine chooses the smooth, dull pebble over the gaudy, shimmering jewels...
PS. How horrendous in Live Earth? The music bit is fine, the interviews are so terrible though.
"So Kasabian, do you think the terrible weather we've been having is down to Global Warming?"
"Oh, absolutely... "
Only slightly less ridiculous than the Bishop of Glasgow's claims that the floods were God's wrath about gay civil unions... | | comments: Leave a comment |
| SWB went to Mountjoy Prison on Friday for a bit of a visit, to prepare for future visits to Irish prisoners in Belgium. Umm, it's like, horrendous. No rehabilitation, Tiny, smelly cells. No inside sanitation (bedpans). One third of the inmates on methadone. Three to a tiny cell. Etc. etc.
Like, I know it's not supposed to be a holiday camp, but honestly... surely there sould be some attempt at rehab?
Maybe I'm obtuse, but I just don't understand exactly where all the money goes...
our much-vaunted ten years of prosperity... why aren't our prisons and hospitals better?
ANYWAY. Isn't Richard Aldous a RIDE? It makes me wish I were studying history at UCD...
 | | comments: 1 comment or Leave a comment |
| Oh My God!
Secret CIA prisons confirmed by Polish and Romanian officials
That's so bad. But what can we do? What does the European Union stand for? I know we arguably have a duty to spread the zone of peace and prosperity across Europe etc... but instead of everywhere else becoming more like Sweden, we're all becoming more like Poland! Like, look at our own government... this is seriously evil stuff...
SWB weeps for the world etc.
In other news, I love Lesley.
 | | comments: 2 comments or Leave a comment |
| Greetings Earthlings,
It is I, back to Dublin after thrilling times in Berlin and Istanbul.
BERLIN
I visited Park Sans Souci, walked along the Spree, saw where poor Rosa was chucked in, drank wine in little bars in Prenzlauer Berg, read Ian McEwan's The Innocent in the Zoologischer Garten, marvelled at the Reichstag, went to stupid boring meetings on the Euro-Mediterranean process, went to Cafe Moscow (amazing!), went back drinking to a flat in Kreuzberg and oh- met this amazing guy. A little like Alex Zane, lookswise, and studying art history.
aah... we got drunk, we danced, we sat in the chillout area under the stars, we had a small snogette, we stumbled out and sat on Karl Marx Allee watching the sun rise and listening to Dirty Vegas walk into the sun on my iPod, we walked home in the chill dawn in our t-shirts clambering on monuments on the way and squinting in the light. It was the best holiday hook-up I've had in years... certainly since David in April 2005.
But anyway, he lives in Rome, that was it... adios. Or arrivaderci, even...
Anyway, bla, Istanbul was nice, but I was kinda expecting crazy parties in clubs overlooking the Bosphorus- pumping euro-techno, crazy trannies, designer drugs- and well, it underwhelmed me somewhat. Very pretty though.
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In other news, I have a work-dilemma. Give up 3-4 years of ok work in Brussels for 1 year of absolute mind numbing (but extremely well-paid) work on secondment to the Commission in Brussels, plus another crack at the postings list next Christmas? Sydney, Buenos Aires, San Francisco, Boston and London- but also the threats of Riyadh and Bucharest? Better the devil you know? | | comments: Leave a comment |
| Green Party John Gormley
Labour Party Ruairi Quinn
People Before Profit Rory Hearne
Sinn Féin Daithí Doolan
Independent Eoin Tierney
Fianna Fáil Jim O'Callaghan
Fianna Fáil Chris Andrews
Fine Gael Lucinda Creighton
Progressive Democrats Michael McDowell (null points)
I actually find this guy not unattractive... maybe I should join the Socialist Workers Party- a militant boyfriend would be quite nice, non? I'm thinking either longish or very short hair, I'm thinking hard-drinking yet vegetarian, I'm thinking passion, I'm thinking backpacking in Azerbaijan, I'm thinking tattered copies of Les Justes and Les Mains Sales...
Very Baader-Meinhof, without the collective suicide pacts and hijackings- and with better leather jackets (second-hand, of course). | | comments: 1 comment or Leave a comment |
| | Subject: | 04:38 | | Time: | 04:38 am |
|
| Ok, so it is 04:39, I've just finished up a lock-in in Flannery's. I've got an an interview for first Sec tomorrow morning. Agh.
ugh.
Do you ever feel... what happened to those days when you could not study and still pass, eat whatever you wanted and not put on any weight, make absolutely no effort when you went out and still get hit on...
sigh | | comments: 2 comments or Leave a comment |
| Tonight, au Dragon
S***ie: "Oh sorry, I've spilled my drink on your converse."
SWB, like the good diplomat: "Goodness, don't worry at all. They're so old and worn anyway."
S: "Actually, I don't really care."
SWB: "..." (nonplussed) | | comments: 1 comment or Leave a comment |
| Maybe it's just me, but do you ever find that the pretty guys are dull uninteresting, and the interesting ones unattractive? Thank the Lord that you and I, gentle reader, are perfect. But unfortunately you and I cannot date as that would surely breach the 4th wall of blogdom.
But yet there are plenty of uninteresting *AND* unattractive guys out there. Surely the obverse must happen sometimes?! Or did they all move to London?
ANYway. Given what is there, does one
date those from sector A? Or from Sector B? Or live a life of eunech-like chastity?*
Sigh.
Do you choose someone attractive, then attempt a pygmalion-like transformation? Force-feeding Booker shortlists, Eats Shoots and Leaves, atlases and compilations of Dorothy Parker aphorisms?
Or.
Choose someone unattractive, then slather them with gym memberships, dental appointments, buy-roaccutane-online websites and low-fat meals? Isn't this what women generally do?
My Fair Lady vs. Clueless. Except that Brittany Murphy was actually quite pretty to begin with.
Perhaps some of my readership who have experience in dating relatively attractive, yet somewhat personalityless boys, could advise. Does the prettiness lose its impact after a few months- leaving one with just the crushing boredom? Has anyone successfully effected a transformation? And if so, did they leave you right after. Did you then say "I've created a monster!"? Etc...
*without the castration part, obviously | | comments: 3 comments or Leave a comment |
| exerpt from an email from some minger I slept with in Norway
Hi XXXX,
Thank you for the nice time we spent together in Oslo. It was very interesting to meeting you and I would like to spend some more time together with you......
When I came home I made some cakes for my birthday and I invited my family for coffee and cakes. The last week it was very nice weather and every day I was sitting in my garden drinking coffee and eat rest of the cakes, so even now I feel filled up.
I have attached some photos from where I live. Two photos taken during the winter time. You can see my house, the dark brown one. As you see I am living in the countryside. It is 20 kilometres to the town called Molde with 25000 inhabitants. You are lucky that lives in Dublin, that big city!
On the photo where I am having breakfast in the garden, you can see my old sailing boat in the background. The boat is so old that I am dreaming of a new bigger one. That is why I visited the boat show just outside Oslo the weekend I met you. The photo from the mountain is taken in 1999. The hight over the sea level where I am standing is just above 1000 metres. I like to walk in the mountain, but my favorite hobby in the summer time is sailing.
Leif, back in 1973.
I am SO depressed now. Lives of quiet desperation, anyone? | | comments: 5 comments or Leave a comment |
| | Subject: | HOW EMBARRASSING! | | Time: | 04:34 pm |
|
| Israel has recalled its ambassador to El Salvador after he was found drunk and naked apart from bondage gear.
Reports say he was able to identify himself to police only after a rubber ball had been removed from his mouth.
oh, those crazy gimpsdiplomats
A foreign ministry official described Ambassador Tzuriel Refael's behaviour as an unprecedented embarrassment.
Foreign ministry spokeswoman Zehavit Ben-Hillel confirmed that lurid reports of the incident in the Israeli press were accurate.
Haaretz website reports that police found Mr Refael in the Israeli embassy compound where he had been found bound, gagged and naked apart from sado-masochistic sex accessories. | | comments: 1 comment or Leave a comment |
| 
guess who was in the George last night? Not ONLY Sophie Ellis Bextor's drummer, who is a complete ride, BUT ALSO...
PATRICK WOLF!
How exciting! I touched the hem of his robe ridiculous scarf. Alas, while Vinnie and Owen made witty urbane banter about indy music and various other cool topics with the man himself, I was making stilted small talk with the straight, female, bored sidekick from PW's band about her recent bout of gastroeneteritis.
Alwuz the bridesmaid, me etc. Just as well really, as all I could think to say to PW was "Err... I read on Popjustice that you get piles from sitting for long periods on your tour bus. Is it really gross?" which wouldn't have made for a very good opening gambit.
This may be a good time to mention that I once sat behind Bono in the cinema (Screen). Glamorous, my life. | | comments: 1 comment or Leave a comment |
| | Subject: | x - x | | Time: | 09:23 pm |
|
| I had a small, never-used part of my self removed last week.
No, it wasn't the frontal lobe of my brain*, but rather, my appendix.
They gave it to me in a jar- it looks a little like something you'd find, pickled, amongst the 'Polsky Produkty' section at Tescos.
I plan a small installation next week, I think it will complement the Georgia O'Keeffe exhibition at IMMA.
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*The Frontal lobes have been found to play a part in impulse control, judgment, language, memory, motor function, problem solving, sexual behavior, socialization and spontaneity. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| Hello... the weekend went swimmingly. Except that getting too drunk on Friday night resulted in me
1. Taking my shirt and trousers off in the FL- and not in the bathroom, either- in order to change.
(morto)
2. Placing a cadbury's creme egg in the pocket of my already-quite-snug jeans, dancing around the George, and ending up standing in the middle of the dancefloor trying to lick chocolate-caramel mix out of the crevices of my I-Pod and phone.
(attractive)
How do you eat yours?
3. Snogging a rather pink-and-blond, horribly confident American, bringing him home, and realising 5 minutes into the walk than I wasn't into it. Having to then pretend to fall asleep straight away, with t-shirt and pants still on. Upon morning, having to pretend to be comatose as I did my best to wriggle into the crevice between my bed and the wall, in order to escape the hands of said American.
(eeeeurgh)
4. Embarrassingly seeing American out the next night- at Bear night in Gubu, where one would expect to be safe from meeting anyone you know- after I had said I was staying in to study.
a workplace friendly gay bear.
... and not getting drunk enough on Saturday night resulted in me
1. not enjoying *at all* the reasonably good party I went to.
2. not hitting on person I wished to hit on due to overdeveloped sense of guilt
3. looking bored
4. seeming like a mardy bastard
:o(
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cock block [cok blok] a particularly revolting phrase my American friend Christina taught me.
–verb (used with object)
to obstruct sex by placing obstacles in the way
example:
"I'm cockblocked from scoring Billy, because he's my friend Charlie's ex-boyfriend, and he gets jealous, even though Billy is never going to be with him again, and Charlie and I really like each other." said Adam
"I was cockblocked from scoring that cute Swedish guy" said Daniel "because his not-cute friend liked me and the cute one didn't want to hurt his feelings."
"I was cockblocked from scoring that Irish guy I liked" said Lars "because my friend Bjorn fancied him and I had an overwhelming sense of guilt."
ETC.
I mean, honestly, some people. They date a boy for a few weeks, and then everyone else is warned off them for MONTHS, due to their own emotional instability!
It's hardly fair on anyone, is it? Least alone the boy.
In other news. The above.
I don't remember all that sapphic stuff in the novel! It was trowelled on in the film in the most explicit manner. SWB thinks most of it should have been removed. Plus the gold stars don't fit in with my understanding of Barbara's character. They seem so unlike her.
Bla bla bla. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| I just read the most disturbing article ever. Possibly worse than one I read about that German cannibal a few years back.
legless in lincolnshire
In other news, I am practising moving to Bruxelles and not knowing anyone and having to go out ON MY OWN (eek) by trying to make random conversation with people in pubs, when at the bar ordering a drink.
Is this a little strange?
Anyway, no matter. IT'S SOOO HARD!
I've been deliberately only talking to people one would generally find unattractive, to start off with in order to supposedly make it easier, but- I dunno- maybe I just come across as a big weirdo. But it'll have to be done when I'm in Brussels.
1. Really quite overweight fake-tanned 40yr old in figure-hugging stretch black shirt, open four buttons, accessorized with rosary bead-effect necklace- ordering Moet
SWB ( brightly): Special Occasion?!
MOET (in scornful manner): No.
SWB: I suppose, you're dead right, you only live once etc. You're worth it! Ha!
MOET: O....K.... (exits left)
2. Really quite passable transexual with long blonde hair, very large hands, very dressed-up.
SWB (banally): What a crowd, eh!
TRANS (flicks hair): And all of them gay! I'm in the wrong bar!
SWB: Really? But...
TRANS: I'm a woman, obviously, so straight men find me attractive. And there's none here.
SWB: Oh yes of course. I see your point. Quite the conundrum indeed. But...
TRANS (begins singing the lyrics to 'Footloose'): Footloose, footloose...
(turns back to SWB and ignores)
3. Really quite elderly man in lumberjack shirt tucked into jeans, purchasing large quantity of different drinks.
SWB: Aha! I see you got stuck getting the drinks then!
OAP: What?!
SWB: I said... 'I see you got stuck buying the drinks then!'
OAP: What do you mean?
SWB: Err... the DRINKS. You're buying a lot of DRINKS! For people!
OAP: Sorry, I have no idea what you're saying.
SWB: The... (gives up) | | comments: 3 comments or Leave a comment |
| Another monday, another day of finding it hard to work an the appetite to eat an apple.
agh- I'm full!
Another 30 minute search of the streets looking for my bicycle on Sunday afternoon.
Jeff has these new friends, and they're OH MY GOD such fun! Hard drinking, all-night, slightly cute, slightly slutty guys who work in the service industry.
Hurrah. Of course, I'll probably never see them again now.
Never explain, never apologize
Hmm... Somewhat drunk. I actually had to do damage limitation and text half my phonebook with general apologies after two seperate people texted me to ask why I had been acting so oddly on Saturday night.
Ugh. I hate that sort of apology when it comes from others. So unnecessary.
Plus I have a horrible feeling... going on an email I received today... that I may have come on to an ex-datee with the sentiment of... "Oh we should never have broken up... maybe we should try going out again..."
EEEK
I dunno, surely there must be a middle ground between being some anodyne namby-pamby dreary individual who never does anything they regret and being an unpredictible, moody, alcoholic fuckwit? I mean, a little unpredictability, is nice. But perhaps I'm projecting... just because I like guys who sometimes get really drunk and hug you and buy you a drink, and sometimes get really drunk and call you a wanker and bitches about everyone they know, it doesn't follow that others like that.
Sigh...
take two after meals
Also a conversation on Saturday centring around how size 28 inch waist trousers in TopMan are the same as size 30 inch waist trousers from River Island rather alarmed me. IE you're a fat bastard if you take a 30 at TopMan.
Eeeeeeeek.
I CAN'T do 30! My pelvis is too wide!
I've always felt that there's skinny, and then there's gay-skinny. Ugh, the pressures of being a modern homo in an age of skinny jeans and Mika.
My hips will never be so snake.
ALSO THIS WEEK
SWB saw... The School for Scandal at the Abbey. Bla.
slept through.... The Last King of Scotland. Somebody said Gillian Anderson was in it. Ya wha? The last ten minutes were excellent, though.
read... the french language Closer. AMAAZING. Celeb gossip- but you're learning at the same time!
watched... Celebrity Big Brother. BLAAAAAAAAAAAA. BOOOOOOOORING! Get some proper gays or transexuals in to stir it up a bit. H from Steps doesn't count. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| Any of my former or current housemates can attest to the tender place I hold in my heart for S Club 7, S Club Juniors, Rachel Stevens... and all other Sclub related personnages... but that Jo O'Meara has gone too far...
What a bitch!
SWB deplores the use of the term *pram-faced*, yet...
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In other exciting gossip based news, Saturday night was a bumper night for scandal. Unfortunately, I was so drunk I forgot it all (as well as where I had parked my bicycle) and it had to be recounted to me later.
"He said what?!"
"I came on to who?!"
etc etc.
If there's anything I like better than a bizarre love triangle, it's a bizarre love square. Unfortunately, I'm not involved, but still, the intrigue is great.
Will S dump A and go out with D? Will D get tired of waiting? Will S ever see that J is really the one for him?
Or will, in fact, everybody get bored of each other in two weeks, in time-honoured gay fashion, and move on to the next people?
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It's been a while, I think I'd like a torturous, self-destructive relationship, to keep my thoughts occupied while at work. How to start though?
First: find unsuitable boy.
Second: delude oneself into thinking in love/lust with said boy
Third: embark on unsuitable relationship, after short period of psycho stalking
Fourth: decide who is going to be the sad, mournful one in the relationship, and who's going to be the adulterous one going out all the time shagging
Fifth: throw some things, perhaps
Sixth: cry, preferably at discotheque
Seventh: enter self-destructive cycle of drug and alcohol abuse, meaningless sex*
Eighth: wallow some
Ninth: repeat if desired
*pretend not to enjoy but to be merely numbing deep internal pain | | comments: 2 comments or Leave a comment |
| My sister and her husband have decided that she will go back to work, and that he will stay at home and mind the kids.
I'm so envious!
I feel slightly cheated that such life choices are not available to me. I mean, I quite enjoy shopping, cooking and cleaning. Much more than writing sppeches, anyway.
Sigh. | | comments: 1 comment or Leave a comment |
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