Tag Archives: the national

Since we last spoke..

I’m not going to apologise for talking about my life. It’s all I actually want to write about right now, and you’re here of your own free will so I’m allowed incessantly babble on about myself.

In my last post I think I talked about me feeling rather poorly and how I hoped to make it to The National in Dublin last Friday evening? Yeah well that didn’t happen. And to put it bluntly, it really, really sucks. Bigstyle. There’s not much I can do about it, I know, but it’s realising how close I actually came to seeing them live is what hurts so much.

I’m probably over-reacting. It’s just music, right? Not really though. To most people, Boxer is a couple of good songs by some indie band from Brooklyn. To me though, The National mean a hell of a lot more. Maybe one day I’ll go into it, but not now.

I remember first hearing the rumours that they were coming to Dublin. I was fucking ecstatic. Delirious. It was unbelievable. I was dancing around the house like a headless chicken while my parents looked on in amusement. They understood though. Highs followed lows as the shows sold out, as I managed to get tickets from a friend, as plans got messed up, as plans sorted themselves out, and then the final devastating low last Friday morning when I couldn’t get out of bed.

It didn’t really hit me then. At the time I just felt so shit the last thing I wanted to do was get on a bloody train and traipse around Dublin in the snow. I couldn’t have done it and I wouldn’t have enjoyed it one bit. Today though, on the way home, Bloodbuzz Ohio was mentioned on the radio and immediately I changed channel. For the first time in my life, I couldn’t listen to The National. I couldn’t sit there and let that recording play knowing that I so very nearly heard it live. That moment killed me.

Then I was decorating the Christmas tree earlier and I couldn’t even consider playing Alligator. It sat there in the pile of CDs, but I just couldn’t put it on. No Age, Holy Fuck and Abe Vigoda made up my decorating soundtrack. Not bad, but The National just shoulda been there..

I’ll see them some day, and I know it’ll be worth the wait.

In other news:

  • I had my Irish oral today. Got an A1 (fuckyeah)!
  • Two weeks yesterday ’til my birthday which is exciting!
  • Christmas exams start Thursday which is not exciting.
  • I have a dental appointment on Monday, which may sound like a mundane fact but it is actually a huge event in the life of a dentophobia sufferer.
  • I put up the Christmas tree this evening but plenty of decorating remains to be done.
  • I am going to go to the library tomorrow with Caroline to study for the day. It has been two weeks since I’ve opened a book at home due to my being sick. (Refer to point about Christmas exams)
  • I also hope to get a pair of shoes tomorrow. Grey or black pumps, but a decent pair.
  • I got a lovely, warm, black parka the other day.
  • I currently have a €50 note stuck inside one of my Uggs. I must purchase a harness for the dog tomorrow and I get to keep the change. The harness costs a tenner.
  • I’m tired and I should go to bed (wearing my new pyjama pants!) Good night.

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What’s this?!

At this moment in time you may be thinking that your eyes are deceiving you. This couldn’t possibly be a new blog post from Niamh, could it? No, not really. It’s just going to say the same stuff that all the others say, but technically it could be considered new content. There’s something for you too all debate amongst yourselves.

I don’t really have the time to write here anymore, so you might find yourself wondering (or at least I find myself wondering if you’re wondering) why I’ve suddenly popped up here with a few words of my infamous (not) wisdom. Well, I’m sick. Sort of. I think. Hopefully not. Anymore.

On Thursday night there I started on the ol’ Biology papers, beginning the long trek through the light and dark phases of photosynthesis. Paul McLoone had this competition on his show where you could win two tickets to The National at Other Voices in Dingle. I got nervous and excited at the same time and hijacked all the mobile phones in the house to enter said competition. Around the same time I began to feel a bit crappy. McLoone announced the winner, and it wasn’t me. Or any of my family members who wouldn’t know a National song if it jumped up and hit them.

I abandoned the charming Biology papers and installed myself in front of Ros na Rún, bowl of Cheerios in hand. I think I’ve watched about three and a half episodes of Ros na Rún, but sometimes you get an idea into your head. Anyway, I thought I was developing ‘sensitivity’: a unique, hard-to-describe affliction that I sometimes develop for a day or two. I guess it’s like the flu, but then again, I’ve never had the flu, so I don’t really know for sure. It only lasts a day or two though, usually cured by two paracetamol and a night’s sleep.

But, on this particular occasion, WE HAD NO PARACETAMOL IN THE HOUSE. I’d like to pause here for a second and say the following: WHAT. THE. FUCK. What kind of house doesn’t have paracetamol? There was a few drops of Paralink in a bottle, so I downed that. It really didn’t taste like the claimed ‘strawberry’ flavour but I didn’t care. Ros na Rún was getting interesting.

I went to bed early and took up where I’d left of with The Secret Life of Bees, that ol’ Leaving Cert novel that I should have read over the summer but didn’t. Next morning I woke up none the better and stayed in bed for the day, awaiting a delivery of Panadol and Lucozade, which seemed to help things alright it has to be said. Within an hour of the sweet, sweet Panadol dropping into my stomach all seemed well again. I ate a bit f pasta, took a shower and went to a friend’s house to eat pizza and caramel slices while watching Tubs on the Toy Show.

Getting out of bed on Saturday morning was a bit of a trek, but I managed it, and off to town I went in my ridiculously stupid outfit of a little vintage cropped blazer, bandage skirt and pumps. It was bloody freezing. Did coffee, went home, went to bed. Felt mank, slept, listened to the radio, worried about my health, etc.

Sunday passed in much the same fashion, just involving Sunday papers and plenty of The Panel on RTE Player. Single Handed and a cup of tea perked me up a bit though. There’s just something about that Garda uniform..

Now it’s Monday, and I’m at home. The snow is melting and it’s all disgusting so I don’t want to go out and take photos because it’s frankly quite depressing. I’ve also given up thinking about all the study and homework time I lost over the past four days, and have instead turned my attention towards making it to Dublin on Friday for The National. Which I will. Fuck the Leaving Cert, fuck school, just once I get to listen to that beautiful music LIVE. Excitement is building. And I’d also love if Dublin was all snowy, but I hate slush, okay?

So off you go to cross your fingers, look for 11:11 on the clock, throw copper coins over your shoulder, pray, meditate, whatever you’re into, so that I can make it there.

I’ll bring you back a National badge, like. Now there’s an offer you can’t refuse..

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Dublin trip!

I do realise it’s been an awfully long time since I last blogged, but I’ve been busy busy busy. Well it fells like that anyway, but I don’t seem to have done too much with all the time. Anyway, part of my busy-ness can be attributed to the ol’ trip to Dublin last Monday.

Ten of us, and one teacher, got the train to Dublin for the Irish Times School Mag awards ceremony. It was held in the Science Gallery in Trinity College. There was lots and lots of sandwiches, tea, coffee, Hunky Dorys (controversial!) and fruit. Because you have to provide fruit to make it look as though you encourage healthy eating. We had a look at the competition seeing as all the magazines were on display. Alot of good stuff there..

To cut a long story short, our magazine, Snap!, won three awards. We were runner-up in the Overall Magazine category, won an award for design, and I won an award for my article on the closure of Plugd. They showed this video of the judging process first, and the judges made comments on the magazines and whatnot. I think it was Louise Holden of The Irish Times mentioned three names as standing out for her writing-wise. One was mine. That was nice, very nice actually. I put alot of work into that magazine, and it makes it all worth it to hear professionals praise your work.

When it actually came around to handing out the awards Anthea McTiernan, acting editor of The Ticket supplement  of the Irish Times, spoke about my article again. She even went so far as to say I might have even covered the topic better than they did. She also said how I was clearly a customer and really got across the feeling of what Plugd was about. Apart from the fact that she was talking about my journalism skills, it was nice to hear someone say that who understood what Plugd was all about. And she told me to give them a call at The Ticket anytime. Although I probably couldn’t write about anything else like I did about Plugd.

On top of the lovely awards ceremony, we also got to go shopping, which is always a plus! We went to the usual places you go when in Dublin : Urban Outfitters, Topshop, American Apparel and so on. I got a cream vest in UO, and a navy dress in Zara for my brother’s confirmation on Monday. Possibly my favourite purchase though was The National’s new album ‘High Violet’ that I picked up in Road Records. The lovely Dave there gave me the poster for the album too, so I was well pleased. Only problem now is finding space for it on my wall…

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