Week Nine

I had a big romantic notion of coming home for Christmas when I was in Pavia. Now I'm home and all my romantic notions pertain to how the fuck I am going to get back out!

Monday 30^th Nov

Ok so I got home, I’ve seen my family, I’ve squeezed the head off my nephew Jack, my niece Lily and the dog. Right. Check.

So now what the fuck am I going to do for a month?

Lurked around for the day, halfheartedly translating until the evening when I went spinnin down to Fungarvan to watch Twilight. Lads. Talk about substandard. Yer wan Kristin Stewart was an abomination. The big Portlaw Jaw on her – it nearly took the eye out of me head! Jacob was enjoyable, only because he has a bod that, whilst being somewhat inferior, is reminiscent of BBB. And Edward. Edward. He looked like someone flattened his face with a smack of a shovel. And his nipples? What’s going on there? Talk about uneven! Bit of penny farthing syndrome going on there Edward boy. Still, though, shovel face or no shovel face, I’d leave him throw me into a table any day!

Tuesday 1^st Dec

Got home from adventuring around 2am last night and snuggled up in the bed, SO comfy. Electric blanket, the works. The next thing through the fog of sleep I heard “Jack…Jack” but as I came up from the depths it was suddenly “Jack! Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!” WTF? I lep up outta the bed boy, still half asleep, and ran out into the hall:

“What is it? What’s wrong?” (probably in Italian) No glasses on me, one tit in, one tit out, the usual like.

“Get your father! I’m siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiick!” Oh no. Dear Lord no. I think the worst thing that can ever happen to any child, even if you’re not a child any more, is that your parents could be sick. It’s distressing like, at any age. They are supposed to be mindin you, for the love of God. So poor Mammy then was dyin sick all night from a terrible bug. In the morning I text my sister, who said that she and her husband also had it. It must be going around.

A word about things “going around”. Having worked in a chemist in Waterford City Centre for a number of years, never have I heard a phrase being so overused, and so inappropriately. If someone came in with a cold or with flu-like symptoms I’d be like ah you poor thing, take two of these and take it easy for a few days. Inevitably, and I mean INEVITABLY, there will be some nosy fucker in the queue behind who says “Ah it’s going around girl”. In this instance the use of “going around”, although annoying, is acceptable.

But when someone comes in with something like an allergy, a rash, IBS or one leg hanging off and their head hangin on by a thread, blood flying everywhere and some one pipes up “ah its going around girl”, it gets my back up, BIG TIME. Guess what, fuck off and mind your own business you nosy bitch ( always a bitch, never a bastard). Oh, and for the record, when I ask you how you are as you wait for your prescription, I do NOT need a rundown of the consistency of your stools. Jesus Christ.

Wednesday 2^nd Dec

Translated all day to the point of madness, but was rescued at the last minute to go to the cinema and for a spin after. I just LOVE the cinema. And I just LOVE spins. So a combobulation of the two is enough to elate me, even at times like these.

Went in to see Law Abiding Citizen anyway. It was great, heads exploding all over the gaff. But that wasn’t what haunted me afterwards, oh no! What haunted me afterwards was the trailer for “The Crazies” that played before the film. Much like the time me and Sandra rented The Gift, but that night I lay awake in bed thinking about the trailer for Jeepers Creepers that came on before it.

After the cinema we went up to Mahon Falls. It was about half twelve at this point. The moon was bright enough that we cast shadows but it was still eerie and the like. The next thing, my so-called friend starts going “Jesus look, this looks right a right place for the crazies to come out of.” And the next thing a fuckin sheep jumps out from behind a rock. Now lads. Usually when one gets such a fright a bit of wee comes out, but in these situations, the wee goes so far back inside me, I think I expelled a drop or two from me ear.

We got down to the falls anyway and it was AMAZING. Freezing cold and high wind but just so peaceful but exhilarating at the same time. Next up we went to basically every beach looking for phosphorescence but the moon was too bright so I went home, freezing but happy around 3.

Thursday 3^rd Dec

Another day spent translating, trying to build up as much fundage as I can before I head back in a few weeks. As he evening wore on I drew ever closer to the end of my wick. Texted my friend Siobhan:

“What are you doing?”

“Watching emmerdale, what are you doing?”

“Think I might kill myself, you interested?”

“Ill be there at half eight”

Went for the inevitable spin, Saw Doctors blastin out, singin at the tops of our lungs. Pain in my face from being in the knots. Talk about cathartic. Went home, hit the leaba, happy days!

Friday 4^th Dec

Hit the translation hard all day today. In the evening went to Siobhan’s house for a bit of a DVD/Chicken Shop/Minstrels and Natural Confectionary Company combo. Bliss.

On the way though Siobhan told me that someone broke the hands off the Holy Mary statue at the grotto in the Cork Road. Now lads. I am no holy joe but my jaw literally hit the ground. I know the Catholic Church have turned out to be a shower of evil bastards as per the Murphy Report and the Ferns Inquiry and the like, but that’s not Mary’s fault! I’m shocked, so I am.

Like it’s not as if they could have accidentally knocked them off in passing, they would literally have had to climb over the railing, over the flower bed and then somehow mount the bit that Mary is standing on and then exert considerable force to wrench her praying stone hands from her wrists. Most likely with a group of drunken friends cheering them on.

This to me is just horrifying. I just can’t get my head around it. I get the feeling that whoever did it is not from Waterford, because this grotto has been there over 50 years, untouched until now. It’s just disgusting. I hope whoever did it is racked with guilt. I wish there was some way we could have CCTV footage of it and play it on the news and take a still from the video, a close up of the bastard’s face, preferably twisted into some drunken grimace, and print his picture in every newspaper in Ireland so that wherever they are from their mother will open the newspaper and her hands will fall off from the mortification of it all. Sounds fair to me.

Saturday 5^th Dec

God I just can’t believe this weather, pissin out all day! On the upside though I finished the translation. Whoop!

Sunday 6^th December

Wandered into town today to scout out the new Penneys. It always interests me to visit the site of origin of the Christmas Top that 72% of Waterford will be wearing this Christmas Day. Not great now lads I have to say. Bit lacking on the clothes front. It basically has the same stuff it had before, but now there is more space between the racks! The building is nicely done though, with the old city wall exposed. Very nice. Other than that tis a bit of a disappointment. Went up to Shaws then, got talking to the girl in Dorothy Perkins. "I just went down to the new Penneys" I said, "not great is it girl?" "Nah" she said, "all I got in there was the top with the sequins on it for Christmas. I got it in navy and my sister got it in white."

Case in point.

Although on this little excursion I did realise the extent of the economic differences between Ireland and Italy. The recession basically doesn’t exist over there like it does here. I mean over there they are hittin the shops hard for their Christmas presents. Over here in Ireland, we are hittin grannies over the head with our basket in the pound shop to get the last Old Spice set! I’m telling you now lads, there’s going to be plenty of Brut aftershave sets bought as presents this year. Or “Brutal” as a handsome man I know would put it. Between that now and the ever-classy “Denim” and “Maverick” offerings from Aldi and Lidl, I’d say we’d all want to be wearing gas masks to Christmas Mass! It’s sure to be an eye-watering experience.

Eamonn was in Waterford for the night so we headed to Geoff’s for quiet one or two. Went up to the bar to order and got chatted up by not one, not two, but three fellas. In quick succession. Love it lads. I must be givin off pheromones or something. That’s always the way. When you just start going out with someone new and you’re all luvved up, Jesus they just come out of the woodwork don’t they!

Anyway I was on my usual Paulita white, but holy moley, strange things were happening after only one glass! Then I copped on, over in Italy I always drink prosecco, which has only about 6% or so, depending, so I just got used to that. Well after one Paulita boy, I was in the goolies. After two I was in the horrors. And then the inevitable occurred. I had to pee. But here is the timeless problem with that. You have been sitting down for quite some time, your legs have forgotten how to walk. When you do get up to go to the loo, you will inevitably do the “drunk walk”, hands clamped by your sides, head bopping up and down, what you think is a look of sobriety on your face. The indignity of it. But then I saw a fat wan in a sparkly dress do it ahead of me and I felt better.

Finally got a kebab on my home, sat down in the sitting room with Dad to enjoy it. And by enjoy I mean ingesting half of it and spilling the other half on my face/top/boobs/jeans. It’s the only way to enjoy a kebab.

Something I’m noticing actually. I say Holy Mary and Jesus Christ a lot, and seeing as the ads on my page are determined by the content of my blog, all my ads are now “Total Union with God”, “Jesus Christ’s Real Story” (the uncut version, I’m guessing) and “Free Christian Books”. Now lets see what happens when we throw some more interesting vocab into the mix. Let’s say, for example, WILLY, BOOBS, and DIDDIES. Should be interesting to see the outcome! Until next week, m’dears!