Drama Schmama

So last night we went to see Sive, a heart warming romantic comedy by John B Keane, all about a young girl who doesn't want to get married so much that she kills herself. Alot of hilarious insights into the fact that girls, just before they marry, have no clue what they're thinkin, and that romance is only a waste of time, Mr VCTB nodding along heartily beside me (only kiddin he's all romance - only the other day he turned to me and lovingly said "We don't have to get each other presents now, just cos we're getting married, do we?" ). There was a very funny performance of Sean Dota (the old man she doesn't want to marry) by John Carabini, and overall the whole cast did very well with it on their opening night - congrats to all at Lucan Drama group.
So then we went home for our last night, alone, in the house, as an unmarried couple, - my folks are moving in with us tonight - we made the most of our last real crazy night of freedom, stayed up as late as we wanted, ate coco pops for dinner etc etc - sweet sweet freedom...

So Here's a Game

To occupy you while I'm away...

Take a book, any book - write down the first 10 nouns that appear in the book, and the last 10 adjectives.

Match em up at random - see if you can make an interesting poem, or if any other ideas strike you from the unusual combinations.

Here's what happened this morning when I tried this out with "My name is Red"

I call it

"My meaningless poem inspired by nouns and adjectives from My name is Red"

He had a worse heart,

beating black with a convincing midriff,

gave him a harder edge.

I admired,

his prettier breath, absent from the elegant body,

the sand rough bottom of the absentminded corpse.

A delightful wretch, deep in the night -

a bleary eared, smeared murderer.

Feel free to post up the results in the comment box - and remember this can be repeated as often as you like with lots of different books - so should keep ye entertained for awhile...

The First Three Letters

So - the first 3 letters of his surname are MAN (and what a man!), and the first 3 letters of mine are BAG (say nothing). We have a decision to make -

If we are to combine our names we have to go with either MANBAG, or BAGMAN for our new surname.

Manbag is not without it's attractions - evocative of long walks among trendy cafés in town, strong colours, gimmicky pockets, and tiny laptops. Plus it would have the added advantage of placing my surname some where around the middle of the alphabet. Supposedly a good place to be, in fiction terms, (I once heard Colin Bateman complaining about being a B surname for this reason).

However - Bagman is a bit more meaningful. Notwithstanding my reputation for poor relations with plastic bags, I love the way Bagman would fit at the end of a "NANA NANA NANA NANA NANA NANA NANA NANA .......BAGMAN!" Plus it could be like our own special super human skill, like to be honest Mr VCTB is very good at remembering to bring plastic bags to the supermarket anyway, as am I - but I usually leave them in the car, so that I still have to buy a bag when I'm in there, maybe I secretly always knew someday I'd be a Bagman, and therefore was building up the stocks. It could be like Bicycle repair man - always ready - Bagman is there with a bag at the ready...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U01xasUtlvw

But as always I'll defer to the popular vote - or should I keep my old name - so that my "Fans of the future" can trace me back to my early stuff - ie my one published poem?

In case you were wondering...

The new smushy pink background is, in fact, in honour of the smushy pink wedding coming up once 7 more sleeps have passed...
It will be a sunny day, no matter what the weather is like, I've informed John Spillane that we're using his music, so he may well decide to gatecrash (John you'd be most welcome only if you have the guitar with you), and we have almost finished deciding who is sitting with whom - no one yet has expressed any enthusiasm for the idea that they should all change places between courses. anyway, i'm experiencing technical difficulties again today - blogging from rosland, which means i have to hold down the mouse while typing... not that there's actually a mouse here, not even a computer mouse, since it's a laptop - but you get the idea...
have a lovely bank holiday monday y'all

Page 190 - Shamelessly thieved

Where I shamelessly take Radge's mysterious post idea, and shamelessly adapt it for myself, I don't know what his means but it doesn't matter since he never reads this - but here anyway - here's a section of page 190 of a book I'm currently reading...

Feel free to do the same yourself (my advice is to pick a book with large font though!) and if you are first to correctly guess what book my post is from, I'll give you a loan of the book when I've finished it...

A cloudburst. Rain. Buckets of it. Dick ran. Perry ran too, but he could not run as fast; his legs were shorter and he was lugging the suitcase. Dick reached shelter - a barn near the highway - long before him. On leaving Omaha, after a night spent in a Salvation Army dormitory, a truck driver had given them a ride across the Nebraska border into Iowa. The past several hours, however, had found them afoot. The rain came when they were sixteen miles north of an Iowa settlement called Tenville Junction.

The barn was dark.

"Dick?" Perry said.

"Over here," Dick said. He was sprawled on a bed of hay.

Perry, drenched and shaking, dropped beside him. "I'm so cold," he said, burrowing in the hay, "I'm so cold I





A confession here - I actually had typed out two other paragraphs as well, but somehow deleted them by accident - they were boring anyway

How Writers get their kicks

I get my kicks by including the word "Writer" in the title of my blog post and sitting back watching for all the writery types to come rushing in from other blogs for a look - Bwa hahahahah haaa. (tee hee)

Other than that I suppose there'll be big kicks to be had tomorrow week, which is scheduled to be the "happiest day of my life", no pressure now, all down hill from there etc etc... sure it's bound to be better than today, a day when even "Rich, creamy, melted, slightly acidic butter flavouring" doesn't do it for me.

I am excited alright though - just need to call the hotel and check if they've ordered in the extra lemsip for my cousins from Mexico.

Oh yeah - and another kick getting method I favour - leaving comments on more popular blogs than mine, and imagining I have friends as the emails with cleverer comments than mine roll in...

Fair Marley

Fair City was a disaster tonight - well not quite - but they played it wrong or accidentally played the second half first and then had to go back and play the first half, and my poor brain was all confused.

In addition to that I watched Marley & Me last night - cute puppy - no story - i almost hoped the dog would die the first time he got sick - sorry anyone who hasn't seen it, actually I'm not sorry, you didn't put yourself through it and now you never have to. The dog dies in the end.

And I wasn't crying it was a bit of fluff in my eye, that's all.

I'm off to read some Kafka, or is it Cathy Kelly - yerrah whichever comes first.

She Arose

She arose,
Pulling herself up on the counter by the soft chairs,
eyes tight with concentration, eyes dark, dark clothes.
Like a shark breaking shining water - teeth grimace like jaws.

She holds the counter bravely,
hands clamped tight on wood,
as the whole nightclub rocks and buffets in the storm of the music,
the rushing wind of lights,
A while later -

- she loses her grip,
slips off the ship
body limp, she hits the steps up to the soft chairs -
but, softly padded, she's protected, and rolls like a baby on the ground,
No bouncers around,
no friend to phone.

No one wants to help or get involved
"Help"
she shouts, then
"Fuck off"
when they try.

She kneels up, then stands, then hours later somehow leaves,
bouncing off the walls, as she flies,
another mystery left unsolved.
How we can end up so alone.
So totally alone.

Brideshead visited

So - my head has officially turned into a brideshead as evidenced by the following psycho bridal dream, which entertained me in the early hours of yesterday morning...

Part I

I'm at the church with mam and all the dresses on hangers - mine & bridesmaids etc, holy communions are on, and I'm due at the hairdresser in 5. Guests are already in the church, cos they saw the white dresses and thought we were starting early. We run out to car park, and car is blocked in because of all the arrivals. There's no taxis to be hailed because of a protest about the economy or the weather that's going up the road.

Part II

We finally get a taxi - driven by a friendly girl, so friendly that she pulls in so she can better concentrate on our chat, after 10 mins we ask her was she stopped for any particular reason - "Oh you're in a hurry?" she asks coolly and pulls out. Then stops 3 estates away from our place so we've to walk back to the house. She comes walking home with us.

Part III

At the house we realise we left the necklace I was gonna wear in the car, the taxi driver girl refuses to go back for it, I'm crying - begging my Dad to "make her go back and get it" etc etc.

Part IV

My aunt arrives with the mass booklets, she's putting them together for us. She has inserted a weird Devil worshipping ceremony in the middle, tells us it's the priests idea and there's a cake that goes with it, part of the ceremony (I blame Dom Oub for that bit). Everyone is trying to convince us to go for it - "Just try the cake and you'll love it"

Weird eh? My first ever time dreaming of my wedding day too! Am sure twill be nothing like that at all - you always dream the opposite - or something?

The one thing I've learned...

....this weekend is that my friends are talented tiara makers, as you can see from the above, and that life saver tablets do not agree with me, but do prevent hangovers because of the slowing down effect they have on my drinking, and that you cannot judge a drink by it's appearance alone, and that I'm a natural Belly Dancer - particularly when it comes to the camel move (of course I couldn't be good at everything - so that explains the Bollywood), and that the word daisy comes from the words day and eye - from the cute way they open up in the sun and close at night - and that I never want to go to a nightclub without pink fluffy wings on my back, they just add so much to the outfit, and that a dip in the atlantic is sometimes hampered by an icecream headache in the arch of your foot for good reason, and that banna beach will always always make me feel hideously good for all the good memories and crazy natural beauty of the place, and that I'm ridiculously lucky to know some amazing people, and get to spend time with them.