Tag Archives: alcohol

On the eve of the results..

So, here I am, sitting in my bedroom, eating a banana, alone apart from the crane fly in the corner whose murder I am currently planning. The Facebook statuses are being updated at a rate only comparable to the eve of the Leaving Cert itself, and I’m lamenting the fact that there’s only a glassful of orange juice left in the house to go with my Jameson in the morning.

I’m strangely calm right now, but when I start to think about walking through the front doors of the school again, seeing the principal, teachers and fellow students, and, most of all, being handed that envelope, it makes the whole thing seem a little too real.

In fairness though, this is nothing compared to June. It’s hard not to get worked up about it all, but the exam’s are done and no-one can change that now. (Well, maybe a corrupt State Examinations Commission employee, but that’s unlikely. Hopefully.) And, unless something terrible happens, like failing maths, we all get to go crazy tomorrow night and drink ’til we no longer remember what the Leaving Cert is.

I’m excited too. Excited at the thought of finally escaping from the clutches of secondary education. Excited at never having to think about a state exam again. Excited about what the future holds…maybe.

I went to the pub to meet a few friends earlier. Everyone was just going a bit insane at home and heading out for a drink seemed like the best idea. I had a mojito, which was suitably pretentious of me. People were planning tomorrow’s activities on an hour-by-hour basis, but I think I’ll go with a more spontaneous approach to things, it’s more my style..

Whatever happens there’ll be tears, either of joy or despair, and plenty of alcohol to intensify those emotions and help in the creation of much drunken debauchery. Right now though, it’s time to find that feckin’ daddy-long-legs’ hiding place, murder it with my trusty weapon of The Irish Times, and get myself to sleep. G’luck folks, it’ll be grand..

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We’ll start with last weekend..

Ok, I know I’m always making excuses, but I genuinely didn’t realise how lazy I’ve been with the blog recently. Not that I even need to make any excuses or anything because it’s my blog and I can do what I want with it. But I love ye all so I don’t want you to think don’t care. Anyway, moving on..

Last weekend provided alot of blog material. I should have written about it back when it happened, but I kinda didn’t feel like it. I don’t know did I actually ever mention it, but I was staying with a friend last weekend while her parents were away. So naturally we decided to avail of the fact there were no parents around and invited a few people over to help us consume the litres and litres of alcohol. After an extremely dramatic race in my tights, standing on street corners, and a couple of lies, we managed to get away with it, and Friday was really a rather civilised night. ‘Twas grand, nothing major, just a few friends spending the evening together. Oh how times were easy..

Nightlights for prettiness!

We sat inside, then outisde, and once dusk arrived, I insisted on the addition of nightlights to create some atmosphere. It worked, but then again, my suggestions always work.. 😛

And after all that, everyone else left, and we went to bed. Next morning, I arranged to meet Lorna and Brendan and Caroline in Fellini’s on Carey’s Lane. I’d always passed, looked in, and commented we should go there sometime, but never got around to it until Saturday. It’s a really lovely place with pretty décor and a little vintage shop section with all kinds of interesting things. And the produce ain’t half bad either! On Brendan’s recommendation I got the muffin and it was served warm with melted chocolate drizzled over it. Mmm..! So we sat there for ages and chatted about this and that and it was lovely. 🙂

Oh! Nearly forgot! Just before Hannah and I went to get the bus, I had to go get a rosette for my brother for his Confirmation. And on my way I passed a busker who was surrounded by young ‘wans’. And I recognised him. Last June when I was out selling scratchcards on the street, I stopped him and he bought one and we chatted for a bit about my scratchcard-selling and his busking. I never saw him again, until Saturday. Had I had the time, I’d have stopped and re-introduced myself but I was in a rush home for dinner. It made me smile alot though, because he was just one of those people who’ve stuck in my mind.. I’ll see him again, I’m sure..

That evening, it was Ian’s 18th. And not just any 18th either, this was a Pokemon-themed 18th. Yes, we are so cool. I went as Dawn. Don’t ask me who she is either; it was Google who chose my costume for me.

The famous 'Dawn'..

Not that I looked much like her, apart from wearing a black dress and having the same colour scheme going on. But at least I made an effort. And to be fair, it was an excellent party, and very well stocked. Plenty of drink (to my detriment) and food, and the lovely Jasper too! Perhaps I went a tad overboard with the alcohol, but I was very merry and happy so there was no need to stop. And it’s not like I was going home so I didn’t need to be stone cold sober leaving either.

Although, as the night went on, I got drunker, the house got messier, and stuff got more complicated. But I didn’t mind, because it meant I had an excuse to escape from it all and tell Ian’s parents and their friends my life story and every single problem I’ve ever had. They are the coolest people ever. There was drama, but Caroline and Ian and I went for a nice peaceful walk, but had to turn around abruptly as our lift had arrived. And then the birthday boy sprained my finger. Which was so very nice of him.

The car journey home was fun. And then I went to sleep. when I next opened my eyes, my finger was twice the size it should have been. Attractive..

Sunday can be summed up concisely in one word: Hangover.

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Irish drink culture..

Reading a friend’s Bebo page today I noticed she had listed in her ‘hates’ drink culture and the discussion of it. She has mentioned this topic on numerous occasions, but seeing it declared for all to see on a social networking site (*deep intake of breath*) made me ponder it for a moment or two. And then of course I decided to blog about it.

It’s pretty clear that as a nation we are obsessed with alcohol. No one will even attempt to deny that. It’s not really possible to go out for a night without having a drink, but I don’t necessarily think that’s a bad thing. It’s hardly a crime for people to want to go out and enjoy themselves, and if a drink or two helps, then why not? I remember talking to someone (a little) older and wiser about this once, and they told me that, as in their case, alcohol is good if it’s a behaviour improver. Grammatically that makes no sense, but you know what I mean. He said to me that a few drinks to help a person socialise and reduce their inhibitions isn’t a problem, but if people know they become violent when they drink, well then obviously they should stay away from it.
So I thought about this, and did some research! By research I mean getting “locked” myself before I had any intention of writing a blog on the topic, but I may as well put the experience to good use. I’m not a regular drinker. But if it was easier for me to get away with drinking, the irregularity would be sure to disappear. Underage drinking is another topic altogether, best left to someone not as biased as me.
So anyway, we got our hands on a 20 pack of Miller and a “naggin” of vodka. I’m going to clarify at this point that I do not use the word “naggin” in everyday speech. To summarise events, we got drunk. Three 17-year-olds and three 16-year-olds. One male. Five female. The night’s happenings have led me to conclude that:
1. Teenagers can drink in a sensible fashion. We spent the night in a friend’s house whose parents were away, not out in a field. We even had some pizza with it. Although I was forbidden from going near the oven after a certain point.
2. Even the smallest amount of alcohol can affect a person.
3. Despite the fact that I am a good girl, I ended up becoming quite violent towards one of my best friends after a misunderstanding over a boy.
4. It can fuck stuff up. Emotions, relationships, breakable items, your head.
5. Drinking two litres of water before you go to bed is the best thing in the whole world. FACT.
I’ve gone a bit off the point here, but back to drink culture. What we did last Friday night was fun. It was one of the best weekends in a while, and a major factor in my enjoyment of it was alcohol. I’m not a shy person, but drink makes me lose any inhibitions that might be holding me back. Some may think that’s bad, but life’s short; do what you really want to do.
Social networking and drink are inextricably linked. A quick nose around Bebo or Facebook on a Sunday afternoon will reveal plenty of comments with the words “locked”, “plastered” and “out of it” featuring prominently. In the middle of a recession, is it so bad that people want to show the world it ain’t all that bad? And taking a few pictures and putting them on your profile won’t do anyone too much harm either. Social networks are just a popularity contest. A place to shout out to the world “Look at my life. I’m having so much fun.” Posting photos of nights out is an integral part of that. Of course we’re trying to look cool. Of course we’re trying to show all our peers we have as good a time as them. But we’re supposed to. It’s why Facebook exists. Did you seriously think it was actually to keep in contact with friends and family abroad?!
We’re Irish. We drink. Get over it.

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