Oh God, I accidentally selected all the music in my back up iTunes folder and double-clicked. There were 357 windows. The horror!

In other news, my interview is tomorrow and I'm shitting it. I just can't think how I'll stand out against all this English kids who've been practicing interviews since they could talk and who volunteer at hospices and hospitals instead of being selfish like normal teenagers. Assholes.

In Ireland, very few courses require an interview. I did my first ever one only yesterday and while I know how to present myself, I'm terrified they'll ask me really hard questions about medical procedures and drugs etc. Fingers crossed I can at least get on the plane anyway...

Crusha Gym Kittens

All goods should be advertised this way. I know I'd buy them, despite the creeping paedophile voice...

Me And My Elephant

He's been in my house as long as I can remember, but he doesn't have a name. How about Barbar?


When I'm dead, we'll still hang
Do not feed please
I love this top!

You are cheap Uffie. Go away.
MICK JAGGAH!?

Things Are Looking Up

I found out that Aer Lingus (Irish Airline) let you use a bus pass for flights to the UK and a bus pass can be applied for and printed right in front of you! So now I can go to my interview. And even better, my laptop has been fixed and the guy said he would re-image it for me so I could actually have some decent space on it. Fingers crossed it all works out.
W00t y4'll.

Here are some of my favourite images from the depths of my hard drive...

Yes yes yes! New shoes! Nom nom nom...
They're for my graduation, so bittersweet...


And I got a leotard. Because.

And after that scary amount of posts, I'm kind of up to date. Now go away, I'm busy.

Look at my cat.

How did this get canceled?! INJUSTICE!!

It was my sister’s birthday today. She turned 21, although I’m pretty sure she’s even less mature than when she was my age.

Anyway, I made her this awesome card instead of actually buying a present for her. That’s how we roll in this house.

The card reads ‘Sigh, to be 21… You’re older now, but you still like to pretend that you’re young enough to get tattoos’. I’m working under the pretense that she’s turning about 40 rather than 21, just so we’re clear. Also, it’s really hard to find specific words in magazines and I had to use tweezers because the apostrophes were so tiny.

The photo next to the hag is from this amazing spread in Vogue that my sister is trying to copy. Currently she is failing.

The inside features some weird male models, a happy cat and a casual insult.

This is whopper. Crystal Castles again self-titled sophomore album has leaked. I’ve just listened to two new tracks, ‘Pap Smear’ (yum) and ‘Suffocation’.

Firstly, the tracks amazing, so no worries about CC being one-hit wonders.

Secondly, it’s a lot more dreamy than I thought it would be. But I like it. This album definitely shows the maturity of CC since the first album. Crystal Castles 1 was raw Alice captured and locked in a computer. This time round however, Stockholm Syndrome has taken a hold of her and she’s drifting ghost-like through computers and keyboards. I would marry her if she asked me. She is so awesome.

I saw them last summer at a festival called Oxegen in Ireland and it was mental. If you’ve never been to one of their gigs, be afraid, but fuck it, go anyway and punch some one in the face. Ethan approves. I remember going schizo at these two tween bitches. Good times.

About two years ago, I got a really nice digital camera. We clicked straight away; I pressed the button, it took the photos, I uploaded them to my bebo. Yeah, I said bebo. Anyway, one day, it disappeared. I couldn’t understand what had gone wrong? Was it me? Did I not give him enough attention and care? Or was I too overbearing? We all ask ourselves these questions, but rarely do we find the answers we're looking for...

Life went on. My friends took the photos instead, I look on longingly, heartbroken. The years went by (all two of them) and I moved on.

Then a few weeks ago, while crying and turning my room upside down to try and find my passport, there he was in my wardrobe. While it was a bit like a smack in the face, finding something I had no current need for while looking for something I needed in a few hours, it was good to see him again.

We’ve spent the last few days getting reacquainted and I’ve discovered that he actually has a lot more features than I noticed. I feel we’re more in love than ever…

I never knew how to do these until now...

A-mazing.

I wish I could either look like that or take photos like that...

Big Feet And Bad Luck

I’ve always had a soft spot for boys with big feet. Maybe it was my pre-pubescent obsession with Gorillaz, in particular the perpetually high 2d, or maybe I’m just wired that way. But I love how dorky it looks. My favourite thing is when my boyfriend is just cruising in his rolled up jeans and days-of-the-week socks…

My passport was stolen a week before I was supposed to visit the bf and two weeks before I had an interview for an English university. And also my laptop died. I’m truly beginning to believe in fate and the universe as a whimsical son of a bitch. Why didn’t I just get a new passport? The passport office just finished striking and are trying to deal with the backlog.

Today, I officially began my final exams. I will finish in June.

I’m dying

This is it. The end. Blehhh.

I’m facing the worst cold of my life. I know, poor me, dreadful cold, the world should stop for me. You know there are people who have cancer right? God you're insensitive..

Seriously though, I know there are people worse off than me, but colds are fucking awful. Can’t breath, head feels like it’s exploding and leaking out through my nose. I ache. I want to be a productive member of society, go out, talk to humans again. But I’m infectious, gotta keep to myself. Plan quiet, passive aggressive revenge on the ones who did this to me (so called ‘friends’)

The only thing keeping me going is my beloved first series of Skins. Remember the good times with me kids…

Green

Here is an excerpt of a blog written by someone I hate.

“At the Moment everything is my fault, and I can’t bear to think about it. Let’s hope tomorrow is happier.”

Well it probably is, dear.

Here is an excerpt of a blog written by some one I like.

"Fucking Japan, making everything with tentacles sexually perverted. I have a deep love for octopuses, but like all non-sexual deviants I find it difficult to see their sexuality."

After five years or so, my most beloved band, Gorillaz, have released their new album, Plastic Beach.

Words cannot express my love for Damon Albarn. I would carry him up a mountain if he asked. Because he likes mountains I guess... or something.

As soon as I have the album, I’m gonna take an hour out of my day, put it in my stereo, lie on my bedroom floor and listen. That is how it should be done. Nom nom nom, tasty music...

Mystery

I think mystery is an important part of blogging. Things like Twitter make people seem uncool because they're desperately telling us about every unwanted detail of their ordinary life. And we don't want to think of celebrities as ordinary. How bourgeois.

I always think that in about 10 years, "coolness" will be rare. The celebrities of tomorrow will all have facebook and blogs today. It will be easy to find pictures of them when they were young and normal. Mystery is important, and that's probably why my most favourite bloggers reveal little about themselves and post infrequently, just enough to keep the masses happy. Unfortunately, I’m a talker and I like people to know everything so the mystery here will be short lived...

Right now, I’m in Bristol University Halls in Clifton, Engerland, where my boyfriend lives. He is out working and I’m very bored, waiting for my hair to dry. I don’t have any keys so I’m pretty much stuck in this room until he returns, so fun. We went to Bath on Monday, it’s a nice city although I’d hate to be a local because I loathe tourists. I always do my best to not ever look at maps or ask for directions when I’m abroad. I found my way around Belfast one grey morning by sneaking glances at my secret map and never walking for more than 200 metres away from that huge Ferris Wheel. I should also mention that I’m notoriously bad with directions. I once got lost on a journey from my friend’s house to the tram station. It was a straight line.

Don’t let R Kelly ever impregnate you. That is all.

Moving House

When I started blogging, I was using Tumblr but I think I prefer blogspot. And that's the magical story of how this came to be

*La la la, cue fairy music

Why is my cat so angry?