Tag Archives: parents

#3 – Your parents

Dear mother and father,
Ye’ve made mistakes. Everyone has. I don’t live in the centre of everything and I can be a bit cut-off. When I was younger, I was the good girl, and that’s probably down to you. Ye can be a bit annoying every so often but that’s to be expected. And a final mistake? Mum, you should have let me have a dog when I was a child. And I’m talking when I was a young child. I know the house wasn’t huge but the dog didn’t have to be huge either. There’s no guarantee that a dog would have prevented asthma, but it just might have. Not that the asthma bothers me or anything, but still. You’re not always right, like.
But that’s enough of that. I want to thank the two of you. Thanks for giving me this amazing life. I’ve always been loved and I’ve never had any huge problems growing up. Thanks for being teachers. I don’t know if this helped me or not, but I’ve never struggled with schoolwork and I reckon that’s partly down to the two of you.
Thanks for providing for me and for giving me everything I’ve ever needed. Thank you for trusting me. many teenagers my ages aren’t trusted, and I appreciate the fact that you both realise I’m relatively sensible. Thanks for letting me go out, make friends, follow my dreams, drink, do my own thing, go away now and then. Thanks for the support, encouragement, chats, kind words and glasses of wine.
I live in a fab house in a nice area with three gorgeous dogs. I have a laptop, iPod, phone, DSLR camera and much more beyond. I’ve gone abroad numerous times, eaten the best food we could find and worn some not-so-shabby clothes. Sometimes I forget that I’ve led such a privileged life. I’m not saying it was five-star luxury all the way, but it’s far better than a hell of a lot of people, I know.
Hopefully I’ve been an ok daughter too.
Niamh x

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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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How to re-create an authentic Irish pub scene..

If this is something you want to know how to do, you’ve come to the right place. Even if it’s not, stick around because it may come in handy.
1. Find some Irish trad music (CD or tape) and play in a portable CD player.
2. Strum some basic chords on a guitar to complement the CD.
3. Get two glasses and clink them together every so often.
4. Make vague noises to give the impression of speech, banter, laughing, drunken shouting etc.
This is what I spent Saturday night doing, well a part of it anyway. We were over at a friend’s house for the night, just a ‘girls night in’ you could say, while her parents were away. But one of the girls who were over for the night isn’t trusted completely by her mother due to a little incident involving too many glasses of wine. So her mother insisted on having our host’s parents ring her to confirm our whereabouts. But of course there was no-one there to confirm. We tried to put her off by saying that our host’s parents were in the pub with friends. But the wine-lover’s mother insisted, so we ended up making pub sounds as outlined above while one of us pretended to be our host’s mother.
And it worked. So our pub sound creation can’t be that bad!

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The washing-hands-of..

A friend of mine recently told me how her parents had washed their hands of her. Didn’t sound too appealing to be honest…I mean my life has to be financed in some way. Yesterday though, it sort of happened for me. I went into town with my mother and brother because I needed to get books for school and I was meeting friends later on. Anyway, my mother, brother and I went to Coffee Central in the market to meet my aunt for, well, coffee. This particular coffee house is a a counter on a corner with about 6 seats. Due to the fact that it was written about in a newspaper recently my mother loves the place. Personally I would prefer somewhere with an adequate level of seating, but not my mother. The place was full, so I said ‘Can we not just go to Butlers? I dunno why you’re so obsessed with this place,’ to which my mother replied ‘I am not obsessed. There is a smaller cp of coffee here and it is much nicer.’ Whatever. So basically she ended up telling my aunt and I to goo for coffee ourselves and she’d meet me in half an hour to get my books and proceeded to storm off. Oh the joys.

I met her, got the money, bought the books, which came to €19 more than the €100 she had given me. She did pay me, albeit a tad reluctantly, and left without so much as a ‘See you later.’ And yesterday when I got home she wasn’t angry with me, but just, well, nothing. Completely indifferent towards me. It’s amusing at times. Like this morning, she said ‘I wasn’t going to talk to you, but there’s a glass on your table so put it outside before the mildew starts growing on it.’ Obsessed with the focking mildew she is. A bit like the way she’s obsessed with Coffee Central.
The ironic thing in all of this is the fact that she has ‘washed her hands of me’ for the most insignificant of reasons. If I’d been caught drinking, or didn’t come home some night, or went off the rails fine. But because I didn’t want to go for coffee next door to raw chickens? It makes me laugh.
I’m hoping something positive will come of this, like her telling me I have to get out of here once I’m finished school. But she hasn’t washed her hands of me that much…yet.

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