Yah Boo

Yesterday evening was a rather special one, since I spent it in the birthplace of this great democracy (or so they say), The Houses of Parliament. One of the great perks of attending LSE is that we have the opportunity of attending various talks/debates/conferences. Our Irish Politics class was invited by our Unionist lecturer (know simply as ‘The Unionist’) to attend a book launch by the Irish Academic Press for a book about the IRA bombing campaigns in the UK from the 70s to the 90s. So off I trotted in my nice ‘smart outfit’ and proper shoes (I didn’t think the Lords would share my appreciation of fine trainers) and got off at Westminster tube, feeling very chuffed with myself. We walked to the front of the queue of tourist eagerly waiting to get in to visit (always an ego-booster) and showed our invites. After a near cavity-search and extensive groping, we where showed through the grand entrance. I must say, it really is such an impressive building. It has such a feeling of austere grandure, and the first thing you see when you walk in on the left is the original assembly dating back to the 13th century, with its beautifully carved gothic wooden arches. We arrived early (keaners that we were) so we had a look in at the house of commons. It was funny seeing it in real like, with its green leather benches, and it actually feels quite small. They were discussing some sort of health bill and there were only about 5 people dotted around the assembly. The whole thing was really weird and informal, one guy was asleep, another was reading a paper, and this prat actually had his feet up on the desk where the speaker was sitting! I asked one of the ushers about him and he said they all used to do it before the Commons was televised and that now this particular MP was one of the few who persisted with this bad behaviour. Seriously, Brits are weird! And they wonder why the NHS is a shambles? We also had a look into the House of Lords, who were discussing an equally un-sexy and NOT A PRIORITY topic, climate change. The chamber is really impressive and full of gold adornment and plush red seats. I spotted the uncomfortable looking chair-person sitting on the wool sack(!) So the launch was a bit of a disappointment as we came expecting rivers of champagne and stacks of canapés. Unfortunately it was an ACTUAL talk, no finger-food involved in the operation at all.. But seriously, it was all very interesting (the author, Garry McGladdery had given a talk the previous night so I had already met him. He’s quite an outstanding person as he’s partially blind, and still managed to do a PHD and 5 or 6 years research for this book.) I was seated just behind and right of Lord King, who talked about his stay in room 201 in Brighton when the hotel went kamboom as well as the time the entire Conservative cabinet was nearly wiped out when a mortar bomb went off at No. 10. It was fascinating hearing his first-hand accounts. But seriously, what is it about posh-Tory old men and their disregard for articulation? Of the Northern Irish author and Lord King, the one speaking the Queen’s English was the most difficult to understand. (ra ra ra) We went for drinks after and I met one of David Trimble’s advisors from the UUP. (Apparently gay and unionist is not an oxymoron as I had previously been led to believe.) All in all, it was quite a fascinating experience and a real treat to be able to catch a glimpse at the making of British politics from so close. Ps… When you walk into the foyer bit, there are four corridors that stem from the central hall, and the cealing has four mosaics over each corridor representing England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales. The Irish panel with a mosaic is of St. Patrick and St. Brigid and is handily situated over the exist corridor, for as The Unionist said “Ireland’s on its way out!”

Last Bite

Last weekend was spent in upstate New York, in the charming town of Walton close to the Catskill mountains. The purpose was mainly for Marge to go and say hi to her horse so I just hung around the barn and generally chilled out. Yesterday and today were my last days in New York City so we decided to do some of the sights. We took the ferry to Ellis Island, and passed by the Statue of Liberty on the way, and I must say it was very cool to see it in the (iron?) flesh, as its such a familiar and well known icon. We visited the Immigration museum on Ellis Island and it was so interesting to see all sorts of records and incredible photos of the people who passed through the island which was effectively the gateway to the New World. It was sad to think of all those families and many children who were separated from their parents, who had to leave their homes and go to a far away and strange country. Its sadder to see that things haven’t got much better for so many immigrants today, and especially depressing how they are treated in Ireland when were a bloody nation of diaspora ourselves! Selective memory…! Anyway, after that, we headed into Manhattan and fulfilled what every tourist must do: queue for 2hours to get up to the top of the Empire State Building to experience THE best (360 degree) view of the city. It was definitely worth the wait! We finished off the day with a Cosmopolitan (which I toasted to Delphine, as promised!) in the coolest little place called Beauty Bar, which is basically done up like a 50s hair salon and has all sorts of authentic salon stuff like those hairdrying helmets, and barbers chairs etc. It was really very charming and with the aid of a desk lamp to help her through the warm fuzzy golden glow of the bar, there was even a manicurist on duty! $10 for a mani and a drink… What a steal! (PS, the ‘glow’ has been totally obliterated by the flash in the pic, im not lying, honest!) Today I came into town on my own for my final adieux to the Big Apple. I began in the Upper East Side, taking a bus from Penn station that went all the way up Madison Avenue and had the, um, pleasure of listening to an entire conversation between these two 50 something Jewish women, thick New York accents and all, who were seriously straight out of a Woody Allen film. The conversation ranged from: their husbands’ prostates; bitching about daughters in law; thinning hair; estranged brothers; moaning about modern technology, ‘whata I need a cell phone for? Whatam I gonna do with onea those? Tell me!’; and so on and so forth. This was the soundtrack to my 40 block bus journey… I finally got off and headed to the Guggenheim museum, which a meandered through for about an hour. Then I wandered down a fair portion of Madison avenue (a whole 25 mins walk..quite impressive for anyone who knows me and my relationship with walking). After lunch in the Pain Quotidien (Big Up Stockel!) I headed for the subway, in which I crossed over the Brooklyn bridge all the way to.. dun dun dun…….(scary music)….Brooklyn!! Yes, I dared to leave the island! It was actually great, I walked all down 5th Avenue (not to be mistaken with 5th Avenue on the Upper East side, thank you very much) which has a nice authentic NY feel to it. Its full of different shops and ‘ethnic’ (I really hate that term used in that sense, but you get what I mean) food shops, trendy vintage stores (Brooklyn is the new black, by the way..), and Korean beauty salons every second door. All in all, twas a great day and a nice way to say ‘see you again soon’ to the City!

New England (as if having one wasn't bad enough)

Well here we are at the Bates motel, on Church Street in EVERETT, NOT Boston, as we were led to believe when we made the reservation.. ...Tapping of foot.. ... So it turns out our lil' hostel is outside Boston and bares a frightening resemblance to the lodgings of one Norman Bates. Having said that, the inside has a certain element of shabby chic and our room is comfy. We were put in a room that was clearly already inhabited by two people who had nabbed the top punks. After careful investigation of the scene i deduced that our room mates where German. (Evidence included one brown single-strap Birkenstock, some clinical lookinh pharmacy cosmetics, and a music stand, possibly for a small flute or oboe.) Anyway, the room kinda smelled like someone had died there around the same time the Pioneers landed in New England and there was about 10cm between the bottom and top bed, so Marge pretended to be claustrophobic and we got a new room. Were in a room on our own and its nice and comfy (bearing in mind the context in which we are in: youth hostels in general) So were on a two day stint in Boston and then heading to Up State NY on Friday. We drove up to Salem today in search of a quaint little puritan village, shrouded in mystery and witchcraft intrigue. We found a fairly nasty spread-out industrial town with 4 (no joke) 'witch museums' but that where all complete cack because theyre basically 'attractions' not 'museum'. The nuance makes quite a difference, i assure you. So we payed 6 dollars for a 15minute tour 'about withcraft, NOT the Hysteria of 1681 in which 20 people where burned', walking through the papier mache model-filled dark corridors (all 3 of them), whilst being patronised by a nerdy guy with red hair (who obviously got beaten up in highschool and so embraced the alternative-wicca-weirdo-goth path as a way of coping), as he told us patently obvious general knowledge facts about witchcraft whilst putting on an annoying voice and sipping on his water. The Crucible, this was not. Anyway, the historic part of the town is pretty much gone but we did find a small cluster of houses dating back to the 1600s which was quite cool, and a spooky-looking graveyard that was very Sleepy Hollow-esque. So tomorow we hit Baw-stun for some hardcore historical touring, including the Patriots Trail. Its so amusing what a distorted perspective of history people have over here because the country is so young. I forget that but then i hear people describing something as really old and historic, referring to something from the 1800s, which is basically pretty bloody modern by European standards. Anyway, i mock not. I just hope they all look like Mel Gibson and Heath Ledger!

Steph and the other City: The Big Apple

We arrived in Penn Station and hopped on the subway, primed and ready for my American Dream to come true, based entirely on ‘the Movies’, TV and books ive read… Quite a lot to live up to, id say. As I walked up the stairs from the subway, climbing towards my first impressions of Manhattan, I was hit by the sounds and sights of Times Square: people hustling past, taxis honking their horns (a nervous habit I think, by the way), buildings stretching up towards the sky, and layer upon layer of flashing lights and tv screens, assaulting the senses. (Piccadilly Circus has the power of a desk lamp bulb in comparison..) Vous ajoutez a ceci, les odeurs, le bruit… and you get a pretty overwhelming first impression of Manhattan. We made our way across town to drop our bags and settle in our lodgings for the night, which is a sort of hotel for the convenience of various clubs and alumni groups. Our stay in the suite was very generously provided by Mr. Bolter, member of Squadron A and therefore a club-member eligible to use the facilities. The thing is, the hotel happens to be run by none other than the Women’s Republican National Club (or something to that effect) which means that the entire building is adorned with pictures of all the ‘important’ ladies within the club and various other ‘ladies who lunch’. We accidentally stopped on the fourth floor on the way down and came face to face with a portrait of Reagan… Frightening stuff. Apart from the macabre right-wing undertones of the place, we had a lovely suite and it was such a treat to get to spend a night in the city and to be so central too. (just beside 5th Avenue and Rockefeller Centre.) We spent the day exploring the West Village and all the little boutiques and interesting shops there. It was Saturday so we had a lovely atmosphere with everyone on their weekend strolls. That evening we headed out for dinner, by which time it was 11 o clock - but don’t forget, it’s the city that never sleeps! After our Vietnamese food, we took a cab to the East Village (how cool did that sound?) in search of Mister Ming’s, a lounge-bar type thing that was recommended in one of the guide books as being a hip electro-music venue. After standing in the queue for about 5 minutes I noticed something odd. I could hear something that struck me as slightly strane. Yes.. there it was… Definitely! Bon Jovi’s, Living on a Prayer, rising from the depths of the club. I gasped in horror! I walked over and asked the leather-clad bouncer, was this not Mister Mings, cool electro bar? He looked at me, puzzled and answered in a thick New York accent, “You mean that Euro stuff???” … Emm, yes… I suppose…? “Nah, we don’t got that stuff here..!” …Sigh… “TAXI!” So onto the next place we went, passing away the wee hours of the night in KGB; a pseudo-intellectual haunt of NYU students discussing Kafka and the like over dodgy tasting Vodka that you’d get for 2 euros on the Continent, in Communist-memorabilia dressed surroundings. What I want to know is how the American public would react to someone opening a bar called “SS”, mais bon… passont. Sunday mornings in Manhattan, only one thing to do: go for eggs! So we did just that. We chose a nice place called Isabella’s with an outside terrace. The thing is that about 20 impatient looking New Yorkers also chose Isabella’s so we had to wait with the plebs outside to get our table. The scrambled eggs with Nova Scotia salmon and cream cheese, with home fries and English muffin made it all worth it. We then crossed the Park, but Fifth Avenue was closed because of some sort of Greek Parade. Why is it in cop-films when ever there's a chase, they always run into a parade and end up losing the fugitive in the crowd?? Anyway, I got to see the Parthenon on my trip to New York so I shouldn’t complain (even though it was made of Papier Mache and being dragged along by a pick-up truck). We walked down Madison Avenue, went into FAO Swartz and saw the cool giant floor piano thing that the people dance on in the film Big (we even arrived in time for the show!); went into Tiffany’s and Co and into Barney’s. We even walked down Park Avenue on our Bourj tour of the city. All in all we had a marvelous weekend. So much so that today I decided to go back for more. I left Marge and her weary feet and set off to explore the city on my tobler. I got the train from Long Island and the subway, comme une grande, and im quite proud of myself that I managed to figure the subway out myself cause its certainly different to what im used to - all numbers and straight lines! I started off at MoMa (the Museum of Modern Art) and walked through the galleries of beautiful paintings and sculptures. I saw some incredible surrealist paintings by Magritte and Dali that I never even knew where in the US. I even saw the gargantuan ‘reflections of clouds on the water’ (or something to that effect) by Monet which is truly beautiful. As for the Pollack section… bleeuughh… (C'est un Koundelich, definately springs to mind) After a morning filled with art, time for some of my art… Bloomingdales! I wandered through the cosmetic section and was inevitably solicited by every sexually-confused mascara wearing bronzed male makeup assistant, and smarmy high-lighted lip-linered sales lady; wanting to know if would like to be freshened up. Give the girl a complex! You actually need blinkers to walk into one of those department stores – one flash of eye contact and theyre all over you, descending onto their commission-providing prey like a cloud of vultures. After my ‘little brown bag’ experience, I hopped onto the 6 (like J-Lo, who’s ‘so real’ that she’s really from Brooklyn but just happens to live in LA) and wandered through the West Village. I decided to try my luck with Magnolia’s bakery (of Sex and the City fame) since last time the queue was wrapped around the block. Since it was Monday, I ‘got in’ and purchased a box of the most delightful, colourfully, hand frosted cup cakes ever created, including one for myself for the road. They don’t just look like they belong in the world of Barbie, they actually taste like a sweet summers day, sitting on a swing in a playground, birds humming and the smell of freshly cut grass in the air. Yes, in America they make an artificial flavour for that, I tell you! A perfect end to a perfect day of exploring the city, Steph style.

The Bold and the (not so) Beautiful

Dok, if you think Mum is bad with the proud mom stuff, you should see the endless amount of Soccer Mom's in their SUV's, sporting vanity plates (apparently the name for those personalised number plates) with 'super mom', or bumper stickers with 'parent of Harvard honour student' bumper stickers.. So Florida is a strange person. I'm having a great time but i can't help but be cynical when i look at it objectively. We had a lovely 'high tea' in the pavillion of a sort of estate that belonged to an old family who built one of the railways. Its a beautiful day today and nice and warm without being annoyingly hot. We then went for a stroll down Worth Avenue in Palm Beach, which is sort of the Bond Street of Florida, i gather. Every haute couture boutique you can think of, as well as Cartier, Tiffany's etc. We passed by quite a few characters (which is really quite a nice way of putting it) who where basically 'vielle peaux' who had been face-lifted till they could barely see out of their eyes. Their alien-appearances and leather-bodies gave away their ages. Everyone is 'blonde' and over 60, with diamonds dripping off them, and i SWEAR to God, i saw 3 black people today. One was driving a truck, the other was a construction worker, and the third was one of the waitresses at the pavillion. She was basically thrown in there to create a whole Gone with the wind Negro cook vibe, coming around to fill up our lemonade glasses. The social segregation i noticed is even more marked down here and you really only see 'poor people' when your driving down the freeway and you see trailer parks along the road. Its kinda like a 'Trailer Park Safari' where you observe the poor people at a safe distance, from the safety of your car. Quite different to California, where theyre roaming around in the wild! Anyway, it certainly is very relaxing down here because to be honest there isnt very much to do in terms of culture. It basically has this fake astrotuf vibe to it and could be called a giant golf-course, flecked with a few country clubs, some characterless highrise apartments, and lots of old people who all worship the same god: money. I wouldnt class Florida as one of the wonders of the world. Having said all that, and my cynicalness is probably coming out in unnatural quantities because im away from 'Europe", it is a great place to come if you just want to relax. Its been lovely to go for a swim, sit in the sun, and just chill. Marge's parents are lovely and have made me feel very welcome. We had a lovely meal last night, and i tasted swordfish for the first time which was very tasty indeed. Tomorow we might hit the beach and go for a swim in the ocean which id say will be a bit nippy. Im inlcluding some of the pics ive taken along the way.

Turn on, tune in, drop out (of highschool and become a trendy homeless person?)

Its been a few days, and a great few days at that. Quick summary: After Marge headed down to her family, i went on a day trip with Brian to Marin County. We had a very enjoyable day, listening to some classic tunes in the car on KFOG radio, cruising along the Golden Gate bridge and across the North side of San Fran. Its madness that you only have to travel a short distance and your straight in the heart of nature with red oak trees everywhere. We had lunch in the Pelican Inn, I touched the Pacific Ocean on Miur Beach, and we ended the day at the top of Mount Tam with an increadible view over the entire bay area. The following day I headed down to San Jose (do you know the way?) to join Marge. I got this weird little public bus thing down and the guy beside me was this old Asian man wearing a Belgium cap, reading the Catcher in the Rye. Marge and me spent most of the day in Santa Cruz which was fab because it was such a beautfiful day. We just mooched around, watched these people playing beach volley, checked out the surfers in the distance, and i tried not to go mental from having the Thrills song 'Santa Cruz' on repeat in my head. We spent that eavening and night at Marge's aunt and uncles ranch (seriously) which was really nice. They have this beautiful all-American pastel wooden house thats all bright inside and fullfilled all my American house-fantasies. The following morning we visited the old mission of San Juan Bautista (ive been spelling that all wrong for ages) and the town which is so totally from a Western film, saloon and all. After lunch, we headed back to Frisco and began the mandatory 'Steph wild goose-chase' that usually features on all my holidays. In this case, the Hello Kitty Mecca, childish and slightly unhealthy obssession of mine (well, one of..), the Sanrio shop. It was everything i hoped for...and so much more... That's all i'll say! We finished of the evening with a healthy dose of Nihilism, in the form of Woody Allen's Deconstructing Harry. Despite my complete aversion and repulsion to him as a person (in fairness he's a neurotic, saggy looking sex addict, who always writes parts for himself that involve kissing hot and young Hollywood actresses) its a really excellent piece of popular and contemporary philosophy. Anyway.. i digress.. Yesterday we explored what was possibly my favourite part of the city, the Haight Ashbury area which was the nest of the hippie movement in the 60s and 70s and where all the action happened. If you're going to San Francisco, be sure to wear a flower in your hair. It still has a great buzz today and basically consists of a really long hilly road that's full of colourful shops fronts, vintage shops, 'smoke shops', cafes and bars, cool street art, and plenty of authentic hippie throwbacks/homeless people (unfortunately in San Fran the two terms are often interchangeable) and quite a few younger disciples. We spent the entire day moseying around, trying on weird shoes, just generally basking in the cool San Fran extended and much cooler Temple Bar/Camden-ness. Oooh, we finished off the afternoon with my first American pedi, in one of those cooool chairs with the basin at the foot of the chair. Aparently the mani-pedi market in the US is dominated by Koreans and this place confirmed that trend. So we sat back and relaxed and there's even a remote that you can press to make the entire chair vibrate while they work away at your feet. (Slightly disconcerting and some would even say rude) I even got the parafin wax dip, which Marian Keyes describes in Angels (Dok, you know what im talking about!!), which has left my feet feeling divinely soft. After a short stop in Piedmont back at base, and a disco nap to keep us going, we headed out on the town. We met up with Marge's friends who brought us to the centre of the action on this massive road with flashing lights, night clubs, strip clubs, sex shops, bars etc.. It was so weird i noticed that the que to get into one of the clubs was entirely populated by Asian people. I thought it was funny that the US prides itself on being the original model of integration (all that Melting Pot bollox and all) but it seems to be an increadibly segmented society, with everyone living in parallel with each other but always within their social/ethnic group. Generalisations, generalisations... Forgive me. We settled in this increadible little blues bar that was full to the gills and buzzing with craic from the punters feeding off the excelent live blues band. I suspect we were the only under-40/50s in the whole 'joint'. Tremendous fun though, a nasty amount of kamikazi shots provided by the silver-fox 50 yr old barman named Huck, and his shinning silver ponytail down to midway down his back. The doorman was SERIOUSLY (and this is not just for comedic effect) about 65-70, with a white beard down to his belly, and looked at me funny when i presented him with my crappy paper Irish drivers licence. He told me proudly that there's a picture of him on the bar's website, after i drunkenly told him he was a legend. This morning. All i can say is that it was rough. We stayed at Marge's friend's house and Marge and me slept on a couch which involved folding our legs in positions that God had not intended for legs to do. After much guzzling of water to quench the unquenchable hangover camel mouth thirst, we set off in search of eggs. It was another beautiful day today and after lunch we headed down to Fisherman's Wharf where we were greated by throngs of tourists (because of course, i am exempt from that label) The tours of Alcatraz where all booked up so we took a boat tour of the bay instead which was really cool. We went all around the bay, went right beside Alcatraz, right under the Golden Gate bridge and back to the pier where we spotted the sea lions all pilled up on the little floating rafts, looking like God had taken a big bag of sea lions and tipped them onto the rafts. It was a super day for checking ou the bay and a lovely day to finish off the San Fran visit! So that's folks. Tomorow we head for Florida, on to the next leg of our trip. San Fran impressed me so much. I really fell in love with the place. And our hosts, Brian and Chris, where so nice and hospitable it really made the visit so enjoyable. So we say bye to our little rented Chevy and goodbye to the West Coast. I'm so coming back!!!
PS.. Ill be adding pics in a few days when i get to a cyber caf... x

Frisco

My first full day in San Fransico/the US in general and it has certainly lived up to my expectations! We arrived yesterday after a bit of a long trip via Chicago airport. It was great fun picking up our little red Chevrolet (that just rolls right off the tongue) and off we set, driving across to the opposite side of the bay to Brian and Chris' lovely 20s style, listed house. We made it just in time for dinner and pretty much started to fade straight away, since it was about 5 o clock in the morning for us. But that worked to our advantage because it meant i actually got up at the reasonable(well unreasonable hour in my world) hour of 6:30ish giving us a good full day. We headed to Berkley with Brian and had a walk around the giant (everything is oversized over here, including some of the people) campus. Berkley is like this weird american and extended version of Temple bar and is very much dominated by all manner of youth subcultures. The main street is populated by pseudo crusties who are only about 18 and who have created this sort of 'Homeless Chic' which is a little disturbing and somewhat artificial. It kinda takes the piss out of the real and overwhelming amount of genuine homeless bagpeople and mentalists in general that seem tp just roam around the streets. From Berkley we drove into the city and caught an amazing view of the bay and Golden Gate Bridge from the western end of San Fran. We had a delightful 'sub' for lunch in this kooky little cafe and then parted ways with Marge who headed down in advance to her family in San Juan. While Brian got his teeth cleaned in the city, i popped my American-shopping cherry, which was all i hoped it would be and more. One word.... Macy's.... One moto to live by.... "Who says money can't buy happiness?" Its hard to disagree when you're actually standing in Macy's. So off i wandered.. and hark, i stumbled across the Benefit counter. It would be rude not to! No sooner had i stepped within the Benefit woman's radius that she shimmied over and asked in her honey-sweet American voice : "Would you like to get brightened up??" I stared at her blankly wondering what the fupp that meant but im not one to refuse any Macy's employee. So she proceeded to ask me my life story while painting in my eyebrows, bronzing my cheeks, erasing my bags and glossing my lips. Its really weird, in all the shops and cafes people are ridiculously nice to you and ask your name and stuff. I spent the morning totally falling for their flattery and soon realised perhaps theyre not super-friendly out of the goodness of their heart. The 'inter-personal' relationship you build with sales people lasts about 30 seconds and its very strange. Maybe ive been hardened by most people in the service industry in Europe who have faces like a bag full of spiders and go out of their way to be unhelpful. Anyway, other bizarre things ive seen on my first day: An overweight transvestite with long flowing locks and stubble, but silky-smoothe and oddly curvacious legs, off set by his figure-hugging mini skirt; a homeless man sporting the latest hook from the spring-summer Abu Hamsa collection; a latino gang member with a 'rest in peace Raul' t-shirt with a picture of what i assumed to be his friend/fallen gang-member; a variety of 'places of worship'/places of indoctrination in unusually average looking buildings, which sort of create the impression that some random bible-thumping punter just invented a religion and proceeded to open a 'church' in his sitting room. (...possible not too far removed from the truth?) I also spotted the Jews for Jesus HQ. I have yet to investigate that concept.. So there it is! Im back at the ranch and chilling out before Chris comes back from work and then we'll head out for some dinner while Brian is at his wine-tasting class. (Well actually im going down to a real-live ranch in a few days to join Marge in southern california, but that's by the by.) So i will sign off for now and keep you posted on the strange incounters i will no doubt experience in the next few days!
Word x

News of the World headline: Ginger unleashed on the US

(Click on the map cause you can't read the teeny-tiny writing on this page..)
Yes, i am in fact departing on my trip to the US and AIiii (as Borat calls it).. Some people go to India, some people go to Thailand on their "im on that daunting fringe between studenthood and adulthood so i'll go and see a bit of the world and find myself"-trip, i myself have chosen the US. Or rather, through the world and its unforseen powers, it has chosen me. So i'm putting away my Ireland Palestinian support Campaign badge, and shelving some of my political opinions for the month so as not to incur the suspicion of the CIA. I already suspect my phone is being tapped by MI6 because of all the conversations i've had with dad about essays on the IRA and Sinn Fein.. i think we triggered it after the first ten Martin Mc Guinnesses and Provisional IRAs..) Digression.. Soooo... Off I go on Monday to San Franciso (en passent par Chicago airport.. Home of E.R.) for a week. We'll also be fitting in a few days in San Juan Buatista, one of those Hitchcock-esque missionary towns in southern California. Then next monday we fly to Miama and spend a week in a quiet part of Florida where Marge's parents are renting a house (with all mod cons, a pool and not too far from the beach) After a week in Florida we fly up to New York, where i will attempt to fulfill all manner of Sex and the City fantasies and probably drive Marge crazy. From NYC we move on to Garden City, Long Island where Marge is from and spend about a week or so there. I have decided its finally time to taste lobster and aparently that's the place to do so. Oooh, speaking of Sex and the City fantasies, we plan to go riding in the Hamptons! (Did you see how i said that? I think i pulled it off..) Easter weekend we'll be in Pennsylvania somewhere I think and then I'll return to New York to fly back to London. So that's the craic.. Can't believe i'm really going. Before leaving, my lovely Eibhlinn (my Ginger other-half) felt she had to impart some wisdom onto me about certain generalities concerning America. Here they are:


In the US of A ...(a preparatory lesson for USA virgins!)

- In the US of A a Fanny is not a furry lady part, but a Bum.

- In the US of A, when people say Alright, it's not a question over your health, it's a statement

- In the US of A, girls say really silly things and giggle and 'shimmy' a lot

- In the US of A, they don't have normal ice cream, only FAT FREE FROZEN YOGHURT.Seriously.

- In the US of A, black people and white people don't hold hands cos if they do the men in the hoods will burn their houses

- In the US of A, someone who is mildly obese is 'just dandy'

- In the US of A, people are really friendly, but actually sometimes they're just fucked up on sugar highs from crazy sweets

- In the US of A, you don't say 'sweets' or 'cinema', you say 'candy' and 'movies'

- In the US of A, the movies cost lots of 'dollars' or 'bucks'

- In the US of A, people talk funny

- In the US of A, you see lots of odd things

- In the US of A, everything is relatively modern because the whole country is only like eight years old, before that Indian people lived there, like in the seventies and stuff, and they had papooses, but then Laura Ingalls' dad rode his horse out there and sort of asked the Indians in their wigwams if he could like, build a big house there, and they were all like 'How', so he did. Then he had a few kids, and now they call that place New York. But that was only like six years ago, it's so modern out there. It's crazy, it's so modern

- In the US of A, people drive 'pick-up trucks'

- In the US of A, everyone has a mother-funking Irish grandad. Don't fall for it, it's not true. They're grandad was Jewish

- In the US of A, Stephanie Poisson will have a grand old time, and spend much of her trip in awe at the differences, and the colors of the crazy sweets and the sweetness of Oreos dunked in milk (dear jesus...i need it...) and at 7/11s which, when visited, transport you back into a movie you used to watch when u were a kid in ireland in the 80's...but you can't quite figure out which one...

Katchoniiiie

A shoe-shopping outing turns nasty..

A tasteful and moving statue of Dodi and Diana in Harrods..







Eibh left her hairstaighters at home..
Dervla gets peckish

An insident with Tiaramisu Dinner Chez Anna




Gulliver discovers Pringles

The Candyman can cause he mixes it with love and makes the world taste good..

Hhhmm.. the epistemological ramifications of that are quite perplexing..

Its been a while! I was so traumatised by the loss of my phone, followed by the loss of my second phone and abduction of my bag.. Just didn't have it in me to write. In the mean time I had a delightful visit from Ma girls, Eibh and Derv. They came to check me out in my new digs and make sure i'm still just about sane. What fun we had.. We just basically laughed, ate, gossiped/over-analysed and generally pissed around. We also had a marathon stretch of the lezer 'sex and the city replacement' called the L-Word. Apart from that, we hung out in Covent Carden, going from lunch, to post-lunch coffee, to afternoon tea. Ooh, i got my bloody bad stollen in this pub in Whitechapel where Jack the Ripper used to drink.. You'd think that would serve as a warning.. no. So we had to go to the City Cop Shop and flirt with PC Fit the Second. Of course my keys and diary with my address where lifted, meaning we had to spend half the following day waiting for a locksmith to come and extort 170 quid from me. So Derv went off to Cardiff for the weekend on Friday and me and Eibh headed to the LSE 'here's one i made earlier' nightclub, known to you and i as 'Crush'. We had decided to get a head start by having a few drinks before we left so by the time we arrived.. we were ready to go, i tell ya! We did in fact dance for 3 hours solid, BEFORE anyone else had arrived because it only fills up at about 11. So Eibh and me had our own personal disco (first year..merville..sound familiar?!) and by the end of it we were best friends with the dj, who was giving us all sorts of shout-outs (i think he was only too happy that someone was actually dancing..) including "this one goes out to our very own Crush virgin". So apart from a little run in with an Amerian who incured Eibh's wrath by throwing something at her from the balcony, we had a merry old time. The rest of the weekend was spent nursing hangovers, going to Camden in time to see all the shops/stalls close, going to Tate Britain on Sunday and skipping most of it apart from the modern section which had some interesting video-installations and a section on a porn-star from the 80s.. pre-Brazilian waxing era, i might add. So that's the craic really. I miss them terribly and miss having the craic with them.. Having them around reminded me how much i miss our humour cause no one here really gets me at all in that department. Anyway, apart from mourning the loss of my phones/bags and the departure of my luvies ive been essaying away and watching copious amounts of rugby. But more importantly, im off to the USAIIII next Monday. I can hardly believe it! So i'll be blogging away from there next week and hopefully my posts will be slightly more exciting than this one..

Slan x

Missing: Cute Pink Phone! Reward Offered!

In news this week, i had my first encounter with the crime filled streets on the UK.. I was out on Thursday for a spot of dinner, in a Whetherspoons (i suppose i have no one to blame but myself for that..) The result of what seemed like an innocent evening partaking in Thurday's 'Curry Club', ended in the removal of my beloved pink phone and wallet from my bag! Who could have guessed? (Apart from 'Known theives operate in this area' sign on the front door.. Well if theyre bloody KNOWN why don't they do something??) So off Mary and i toddled to the nearest cop shop to report this most heinous crime against cute pink kawai technology. We were greeted by a 'gang of Asian youths' who were waiting for their friends to be released. They were so funny, only about 14 and thought they were the shit. They were of course sporting the international skanger haircut known across europe: separated meshes of hair gelled to the forehead; as well as the internatinal skanger uniform of footlocker type sport apparel and blinding white trainers. So anyway, me and Mary had the craic with the young cop-man who took all my details. It has to be said that we did partake in some mild flirtation with 'P.C. Fit', as he was later labelled. We were like kids asking him all sorts of questions, and i even managed to scam myself a cool little writing pad that says 'Metropolitan Police' on each page. 45 minutes later, no money, no phone, and facing harsh weather conditions, we took refuge in Don Quixotes little all night cafe for a nice mug of hotchoc. Of course, there's no hope of ever finding either items but i suppose we live and learn..What a night! Other than that, entering into a frightening zone of essay-presentation madness... I suppose they have to grind us down with work to in some way justify the cost of attending the LSE.. Bastards.. Right, back to the Essay Factory!
Ps.. What a poor weekend of Rugby.. Shame on Ireland and DAMN those English fools...

Jellied Eels

Putting aside for a moment my sometimes anglophobic antecedents, I really must ask why on earth a nation that claims to be a member of the ‘civilized world’ could possibly have invented, let alone continue to eat such an unfathomably vile concoction?? Jellied eels… The very name is so disgustingly evocative, its been in my head all day! Aside from the culinary ‘delights’ associated with good old Britania, myself and Isabelle had the joy of discovering the old skool seaside resort of Brighton. We had a cracking day! We took the train from London, which took us to the sea in just over an hour. On our arrival we visited the Royal Pavillion which is this mega royal palace built by George IV (son of the mental one, I think?) when he was but a prince, and its basically a complete folly (genetic?) and designed in Indian/Oriental style, with minarets and lots of guilding and opulence. Fab altogether.. Then we mozzied down through the winding alleys of ‘the Lanes’ were a fair few hairdressers live (it is the gay capital of the UK, after all) and lots of kooky little shops lie waiting to be discovered. We headed down to the pier and walked down it with samonella-free 99 complete with gone off flake and stale cone. We walked right to the end to the fair bit (most of which was closed..it is January) and went on a ghost-house ride thing. So funny… Mechanical plastic scary-things jumping out from all over the place.. Even got a few screams out of us! (Id like to add at this point that we were the only ones on the ride) Oh, I forgot to mention the Grevous Bodily Harm I suffered at the hands (webbed claws? Feet?) of a giant seagulll… I was standing by the railings innocently enjoying my icecream, when out of NO WHERE this bastard swooped down and grabbed half of the 99! I got such a fright because I hadn’t seen him and thought Isy had hit me over the head or something.. I didn’t realise what had happened until I looked down at my half-gone cone and Isy folded in two in hysterics. Even this couple beside where laughing! So after the rather Hitchcock-esque experience, we headed for shelter in the form of Ivor, the fortune teller, and his mini tinkers’ caravan. I got my tarot read for the first time and had to try not to laugh because he looked like Frank Butcher and was so hilariously theatrical. Not particularly insightful… I already knew that I was stubborn and a perfectionist who hates being wrong, thanks. We couldn’t return without purchasing a few sticks of the famous Brighton rock so we stopped off at this little sweet shop where the guy tried to explain how they get the writing that runs along the entire centre of the stick… Didn’t really understand! Anyway, after a walk on the pebbly beach, we headed back to the New Age vibe and i got a shiatsu massage to try and assuage the back pain induced from weeks of coughing. Finally, After our day of wandering, we retired to Darcy’s for a perfect wrap up to the day. A quaint little Tudor style cottage serving afternoon tea with scones and clotted cream and jam.. Im starting to get a sense of why its called ‘clotted cream’.. Well my arteries are.. Delightful! So we retreated to London on the 6 o clock train, feeling knackered and rejuvenated at the same time from the lovely sea air. Next stop, Blackpool!

Hurry up and die, Sharon

God, if i was him i'd be cacking myself about Pergatory.. But then again I wonder if you has any true understanding about the things he's done? Surely when someone has perpetuated so much evil, deep down they have some kind of remorse, unless they are a psychopath and are unable to distinguish right from wrong? I wonder which category he would fall under? In any case, i can safely say that I would not like to be climbing those steps to meet my Maker, if I was him... In other international news, i saw a squirell running up a tree this morning with a massive nut in its mouth. He was standing on a fence as i walked by and looked so embarrassed that I saw him, hi just legged it up the tree. He was one of those Grey ones that were artificially introduced into the country and are now stealing the Ginger ones' food causing them to slowly die out. How sad! Yet another example of Redism. It even happens in the natural world! I feel sick at the thougth that im in the libro again today, although its going to be a short one. My cough keeps resonating around the whole place (bloody high ceilings..) and i nearly coughed up a lung this morning. I want to try and get down to the trendyoid Burough Market (where Jamie Oliver ponces around buying rare organic cheeses from the udders of himalayan mountain yacks and such culinary delights..) to try and get some fresh fruit and veg and a bit of fresh fish. (wish i could just go down to 'the Square' to Martin's stall) So as you can see, im doing all my possible (can you say that in Engels?) to get on with the mountain of reading i have to do.. (!) I swear to god, sometimes the stuff writen by social scientists is so RIDICULOUSLY written it makes you want to roll around on the ground and scream and pluck your eyes out. Its like a fupping parody of itself sometimes... Anyway, enough negativity. I shall go forth on my educational quest and leave the fun and joy of Saturdays to be had by someone else.
Ps.. Did anyone see that BBC2 docu on thurday about people who treat their pets like humans (sound familiar, anyone?), with this dirty little Italian Greyhound called Hugh who kept "getting his lipstick out"...? Disturbing...

The Rare Ol' Times

Finally back in our Fair City for the alleged culmination of these past four years toil, commonly referred to as the Conferring or, an other joyful american import: graduation. It was indeed lovely being the centre of attention for the day (in my family, not the world) although it did feel a little odd and i felt like i did on the day i made my communion: lots of people making a fuss over me and me not being quite sure why. So there we all were in our Hogwarts gear, parents gleaming with pride. It was actually so strange meeting some of our parents friends for the first time and just sort of making out the fact that they were a weird amalgamation of their parents looks. The Sacradilliaq Crew was reunited for an emphemerate moment (plus a few random people, as well as those people who have been in college with you for four years but who you'd rather forget..) After the Hugh Brady Ard Feis/part rally/our conferring ceremony (in which i succesfully collected my degree without getting attached to the stair banister as the previous hundred people did.. including Eibh!), we chit chatted with the parents in the college resto, then set off. In the evening, the O'Keeffes and Fitzpatricks had a delicious meal in Bang Cafe (haunt of Brian O'Driscoll, but that didnt put us off..) including artichoke and chanterelle mushroom layered things, Thai baked sea bass, coconut rice, pheasant, outrageously rich and delicious chocoltate fondant and the mandatory Cosmopolitans. Delish! The rest of the night was spent in Wax (Dublin's poser heaven) and we had a fab ol time dancing away and sipping triple vodka oranges (...actually, that was just me..) All in all a lovely day! The rest of my time in dublin, i did the rounds of my fave cafes and shops and generally had a nice time at home. Its so nice to always be able to fit right back into Dublin because it really is the place i know and love the best. London doesnt have a pinch on Dublin!