General blog about nothing.

I'm having a duvet day today... I believe it is needed, I've been drunk way too much recently! Going to have to clean out some parts of my room to get moneys of the mothership so I can afford next week.

Someday, I'm going to blog drunk. And it'll be awesome.

"Write drunk, edit sober"- Ernest Hemingway.

x

Green Day...

Was the most amazing night. I'm just home (And still a sweaty mess, so attractive, right?). I'm still buzzing...

It was just unreal.

They played old stuff. Like proper oldstuff.... Basketcase, On the wagon(!!), 2000 lightyears away...ect.

THEY PLAYED KING FOR A DAY! I've seen King For A Day live. My life is complete. I can die happy now.

Fuck man, I love that band. I mean, I don't listen to them as much anymore. I had an OBSESSION when I was 13-14 but I grew out of it. I know fuck all new stuff. I know American Idiot stuff... Which I'm not the biggest fan, but I enjoy. Especially live.

But when it comes to albums like Dookie, Warning, Shenanagins (I'm unbelievably in love with that album, I'm not even joking), Nimrod, Kerplunk and Insomniac... Fuck man, that's the shit for me right there. Hell, I fucking love 1039/ Smoothed out slappy hours. First album ever, half the songs sound the same, Tre Cool's not even in it and the sound is shit, and I still will always love that album. Obviously, I will never hear them play that live... But how can you not love an album that Paper Lanterns and a cover of Knoledge?! LOVE.

My 13 year old self is coming back with a strong obsession for Billie Joe Armstrong all over again. I forgot how amazingly sexy he is. And now it's like a million times more so because his stage presence is just unreal...

Best gig of my life. Kicks any other's ass by miles.

Fuck man, I'm buzzing something serious.

Lovelovelove,
Ri. x

Endless Summer.... Or Something That's Not As Ghey As DJ Cammy Lyrics...

This summer is going to be a very interesting one, I should think.

A weird one too. Hammo is fucking off for three weeks, Clo for two... Sin is going out with Doyler, so I'll see her less too. Ian's home, so I get to chill with him sometimes. That's good, I always miss him so much when he's in college.

I want to meet a lot of new people this summer, and go out plenty and have fun. I want to have a summer to remember... Or not to remember which might be the case. (BEER SAYS YES!)

Last summer was a shit one, full of trying to get over Mr. Artsy and worrying no one in the actual town liked me, in just a platonic way. It was a low time. Dark Days, you could say.

So this summer, I can't let it happen. I won't. I'm turning seventeen in two weeks, and that better be epic.

I'm going to Green Day tomorrow, which I'm hoping will be unreal.

I'm going to find lots of other cool shit to do, before I start sixth year and have the Leaving Cert looming over my head twenty four seven.

YIH BOY YIH,

Ri. x

What To Do? What To Do?

I've landed myself in a complicated situation. I'm worried about this. I worry too much, it's a thing.

I'm even more worried, because it's so unexpected. Normally, I can predict what will happen so I can find a solution for all possible consequences to my actions. Not this time.

Don't get me wrong, I am fucking delighted about what happened. Fucking over the moon. I just don't know what steps to take next. It's definitely a situation for treading lightly.

I'm talking shit. No one will get this except Cathal, and maybe Frank.

Over and out,
Ri. x

Seriously, Is There Not Like A Cleaning Fairy Or Something?!

I'm cleaning.

(Well obviously, now I'm typing; I'm meant to be cleaning).

I hate cleaning. Hate isn't even a strong enough word for how much I despise cleaning.

I should probably mention, I'm sick and cleaning. C'mon, like. Give me a break.

But the Cleaning Nazi has ordered it so. (She also goes by Mam, Mother, Ma...)

To understand why I don't like cleaning so much, you should probably see the floor of my bedroom. Or not see it, as the case would be. I have a picture somewhere, but I'd rather no one left my blog in horror and disgust- as some surely would.

It's not even a disgusting mess. There's nothing extraordinary growing here, no new plant, no new form of the plaque... It's just... Clothes and books. I've too many of each. I've no where to put them. I have problems when it comes to clothes and books.

I have three bookcases and five big boxes for my books. Still not enough room. I should probably just throw out my childhood favourites, but they hold sentimental value, man! Besides when I'm sick, like I am now, I completely regress back into my childhood. (I spent the last two days watching Disney films- proudly).

And as for clothes.... One wardrobe and a chest of drawers is not gonna do it. I have a lot of clothes. I like clothes. I don't like silly little designer crap, that looks the exact same as Penneys clothes does except it says "Abercrombie" or "Lacoste" or some shite on it. I like clothes from those little Asian shops, where everything is like two euro and amazing.

Mam doesn't understand this though. "You have lots of clothes you don't wear anymore." It's true, I do. But clothes I stopped wearing three years ago, because I just thought they weren't the style or the look or the whatever I was going for, I'm wearing now. It's called recycling my clothes. I can't throw them out. Think of all the money I'd spend when i get bored of my "recent" wardrobe. It'd be awful.

Yeah, I'm sorry Readers. That was a bit of a waste-of-space blog. But it did stop me cleaning for about ten minutes...

What else could stop me from cleaning? Food. Eating food. I must do that now.

Till next time,

Rii. x

Sillies.

Me and Mr. Artsy talked.

It was nice. It was good. It was friendly.

It was too friendly, it was like nothing had been wrong.

Is that weird? Should I be happy the ex and I are talking?

Because I am. Kind of.

But at the same time, I hate the fact it can just be normal like that.

Without any apologies.

I don't like that I enjoyed it.

Late Night Thoughts.

My friend and his long term girlfriend just broke up. He is crushed. And I'm worried.

I tried, at first, to sugarcoat it. I'm not good at sugarcoating anything, because tact isn't my strong point. I told him it would take time, but eventually he'd be okay.

He replied, "I'm sick of everyone telling me it takes time! You've had time, you're not okay!"

I thought I was hiding the not fully better thing pretty well, but apparently not. Not my point.

I decided to do what I do best. Be the blunt fucker that I am. So I told him exactly how much he's not gonna be okay, and all the little fucked up stages he's gonna go through and exactly what he should and should not do (Like not talking to her for a while- something he's totally not going to listen to me on).

He thanked me for my honesty. He said it was good to hear.

So here's my question; when it comes to situations like this, should we brush it off optimistically or realistically?

Over and out,
Ri x

I Swear, I Swear...

This time, I won't let it hurt.

This time, I won't let it hurt.

This time, I won't let it hurt.

This time, I'll lie.