Saturday 29th March
Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear oh dear. The first dark cloud appears over the horizon of our happy life together. From here on in it will be known as The Mood. Such a mood descended on dear old Flesh Tunnels, and such an effect it had on me that even though I was starvin, I couldn't eat anything cos I felt a bit sick. I know, imagine that like. Things reached a head on the way to Roscrea at lunchtime, where words were exchanged by both parties which dissolved the mood and replaced it with a warm fuzzy feeling of loveliness. Got to his sisters house in one piece, but not before going to Lidl and buying two of The Cake. Yes, folks, thats correct! The Cake can now be purchased in a Lidl near you! What joy! Had a nice day Chez Flesh Tunnel's Sister then headed home and KFCed it up a notch, before crawling up the stairs on me hands and knees in a vegetable-like state of knackeredness.
Sunday 30th March
Nothing much doing today, bar slobbing on the couch and stuffing our faces, listening to the rain beating on the window panes - "leave us in will ye lads?" Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnah!
Monday 31st March
Got up at 5am. I know, how horrific. Flesh Tunnels kindly dropped me at Shannon to meet the mudder who was flying in from "The States". I met her upstairs in the restaurant. "Jennifer you look great" she tells me, reinforcing the fact that I had, indeed, a head only a mother could love. Fell into a deep coma in the back of the car all the way home, but perked up when we stopped at Centra on the quay, Waterford's premier chicken roll vendor. Munch munch munch all the way home and then had a powerful nap safe in the loving embrace of my electric blanket.
That evening Lurk Eile called over with a Limeleaf takeaway. Yum yum pig's bum. Was enjoying it until I looked down and saw the big swollen head on the dog, who had been out ridin all night and had obviously got a "baytin" off some other dog for ridin his missus. The panic and worry sucked the joy out of me dinner so I couldnt finish it. Lurk Eile and I spent the evening limbs entangled on the couch watchin Extreme Makeover, and then Chum called round. After Chum went, it was more Extreme Makeover for us and then an early night. She really is the best boyfriend I never had.
Tuesday 1st April
Was rudely awoken by Lurk Eile going off to work at an ungodly hour. She later rang me to confirm that my hair had achieved the ultimate feat of defying gravity when I poked my head from under the blanket. Got up, threw my stuff into my suitcase and headed up to Dublin on the train. Met Previous and Future Husband (from here on in known as Husband) at the station, paid a visit to Penneys, my spiritual home, but with Eddie's voice echoing in the back of my head after I spent a bit too much the preceeding weekend, I only bought a vest. Which is only fair cos I am one. Fair play to me. Headed back to Husband's house in Kildare for the night.Oh. My. God. WHAT a house.
Whatever about the rest of the house, but the bathroom. The bathroom, people. The bath is a sunken one that you have to walk up steps to get to. STEPS! WALK UP! Oh god. And the toilet is around the corner! Anyone that knows me knows that every fiber of my being is against peeing in front of, near, or in earshot of other people. However with the layout of this bathroom there is a possibility(if extremely slight) of me peeing when me mister is in the bath. All other bathrooms within a seven mile radius would have had to have been destroyed by nuclear bombs, and it would have to be the biggest emergency in the world that I pee RIGHT NOW, of course, for such an event to unfold, but if I absolutely HAD to do it, I know I wouldnt have to get years of extensive therapy after it, because Id be around the corner. Whoop! Same goes for peeing in a field, or anywhere that isnt a secure and spotless bathroom. So the 6 weeks of camping stretching ahead of me in France should be interesting.
Wednesday 2nd April
Wake up at 4. SCRAPE myself out of the bed and get a taxi to the airport. Thankfully my flight was empty, so I had the whole three seats to myself and I stretched out and had a lovely sleep. Stepping off the plane into the lovely warmth was amazing. I felt so happy to get back. I really missed speaking Italian and I missed my whole way of life over here and my little routines and habits. I LOVE this country so much. Walked in my front door about 1pm ish and dropped my stuff and headed over to the supermarket. Bought all lovely fresh stuff and headed home delighted. Passed the pizza place on my road and as I walked past the door a big cheer went up and they were all waving maniacally and screaming "Ciao!" out the door. At me, like. Little old me. I didnt even think they'd notice I was gone, but then again their takings must have dropped dramatically in the two weeks I was gone. Felt great after that, strolling home in the sunshine in my lovely neighbourhood where even the tabacchi always knows what I want. Wistful sigh.
Roommate comes in the front door and has a total shitfreak cos Im home. She has a new job and she looks great. Like she really looks bright and happy and Im delighted for her. Im not delighted that her alarm goes off at 6.45 am every morning, but its grand. Fran calls over, we have some nice rolls and then she heads off again into the sunset.
That night as I am snuggling in bed, Agnieszka takes her flip flops for a walk in and out of the room 73 million times. Calm yourself, Jennie, I say. Its your first night back. But not content with that, she kicks the bed TWICE and then to add insult to injury, she starts rooting in drawers, and Im not talking about having a quick look in the drawer here, Im talking about full-on rooting that is keeping people in Tokyo awake. Shut up with the drawer I said. Fair enough she stops. Only to start zipping and unzipping something, having a root inside it in between. Now I know sacrifices have to be made when you share a room with someone, such as me having to transfer to the kitchen to make internet love to my internet husband when she wants to go to sleep, but I mean for fuck sake. I dont want her to stop breathing or anything, I simply ask that she dulls her sonic activities to at least a deafening roar, like. She finally gets into bed, and my blood pressure returns to normal.
Thursday 3rd April
Im the best girl in the world today. I go to both my classes and dont whinge once. The first is *sigh* Hugues' class. Today he is wearing cream jeans and a sexy little jumper with a shirt underneath it (jumper and shirt combo Hugues - how did you know?) and a leather Madonna-esque biker jacket, showing off his more manly side. Today we are learning about how to talk on the telephone and to make learning fun (he ALWAYS makes learning fun) he has brought in two toy telephone walkie talkies that we have to have pretend conversations on. Sure God love him. He is so totally wonderful that I am completely willing to overlook the fact that the shirt underneath the jumper is most likely a short sleeved one, which everyone knows are only to be worn with a dickie bow on your communion day, and NEVER AGAIN. Oh Hugues!
Go home and have a lovely dinner, and head to bed knackered. Really miss the internet, as this would be the time that I usually catch up on America's Next Top Model, but instead had to settle for badly dubbed Walker Texas Ranger before bedtime. However during it, Roommate blurts out "Chuck Norris can cycle a bike without bending his knees" hahahahaha! She is such a fucking legend.
Thankfully Roommate heads to bed earlyish and instead of poking around every drawer and press in the room, I give her an Irish English lesson, teaching her such important words as "diddies" "fanny" "arseways" and "as tight as a camel's hole in a sandstorm". She obliges me by teaching me their equivalents in Polish. I really dont know what Im going to do without her next year.
Friday 4th April
Wake up and dive straight into some serious study, as I have an exam on Tuesday. About lunchtime, however, I get an attack of the crazies and head out to Lidl to buy myself a rake of shite, including The Cake. Yes, thats right, Im in daily remission. Im just one cake away from being addicted again. On the way I stop in a phonebox and ring Flesh Tunnels, hoping for some nuggets of wisdom, but instead I get The Mood. So off I go to Lidl and head home, bags bulging, and feeling pretty righteous as Eddie cant say a word cos Im still within my budget. Eat my weight in Spring Rolls and have a power nap.
That night, Roommate really outdoes herself. She cranks her flip flops up to 11, and takes several power walks in and out of the room, kicking the bed a record SEVEN times. I finally drift off, only to be woken to the sound of her munching an apple at record volume. It must have been the size of a fucking soccer ball cos she was at it for a good ten minutes before I respectfully informed her that up her fucking hole that apple was going if she didnt finish it fast. She finished the apple and I was feeling hopeful until she started listening to the radio on her phone through her earphones. She must be hard of hearing because she had it up REALLY loud. I was blocking it out though, and was just about to drift off when at 0.45am her phone rings. And she answers it. And commences a full blown conversation as if it was the middle of the day and I wasnt lying there trying to go asleep 2 foot away from her. I had enough. I just got up and took my duvet into the kitchen and slept on the couch.
Another week, another flip-flop fiasco, but Im pleased to say Ive made it with a WHOPPING ten euro to spare. Astonishing!
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