It's a week since St Paddy's Day! Already!! At about this time last week, we were, I think, wandering up Grafton Street. Looking for somewhere to put a bet on. The only things open, as Neil pointed out, consistently were pubs and bookies! "Where would you get it" etc...
I'll do a write-up of that trip later, hopefully over the weekend while I'm at the folks' place in the Tyrone. Think I'm going to have to come back a lot sooner than expected, owing to this NAM talk. Really pleased I've got one, although what can be said in 9 minutes is going to be an exercise in conciseness. Arse.
Thursday 24 March 2005
Friday 11 March 2005
Plans for next week! Already!
So it looks like there'll be no apartment at Heathrow involved on Wednesday of next week, but we're doing the oul' A.L. taxi to Paddington at least. Early morning, hopefully no traffic, sleep when we get checked in. Maybe. Should be grand!
I'm vacating the office shortly, and that's the last time I'll be sitting here for ten days. Weird to think it... Looking forward to a holiday!!!
Quite looking forward to having my weekend now, too. Going to sleep a lot tonight. Then get a haircut off our Italian friends and maybe settle down to some rugby in the afternoon. Temptation of Saw Doctors on Sunday... But can't be hungover at all on Monday for the RS meeting. Bum.
I'm vacating the office shortly, and that's the last time I'll be sitting here for ten days. Weird to think it... Looking forward to a holiday!!!
Quite looking forward to having my weekend now, too. Going to sleep a lot tonight. Then get a haircut off our Italian friends and maybe settle down to some rugby in the afternoon. Temptation of Saw Doctors on Sunday... But can't be hungover at all on Monday for the RS meeting. Bum.
Tuesday 8 March 2005
The inside workings of my head
Couldn't get to sleep for ages...
... then had a dream about getting tickets for the Wales v Ireland game in two weekends. Have a chat with Brian O'Driscoll, who has suddenly replaced my dog, who dad didn't think had "long to go", also sitting with Gavin Henson in an "Irish" bar on some courtyard/shopping centre. Henson's worried about killing the apparently-ill O'Driscoll, in what is "probably O'Driscoll's last game" (due to illness? who knows...?) and tells me as much as we head off to the Millennium Stadium. When we get there, O'Driscoll's asked us to blag a ticket for his Mum. I come up with a ruse, but the girl at the ticket desk is much amused when Mrs O'Driscoll — a small, very white-haired lady — pops up behind the counter laughing, to reveal that Brian has played this joke on every member of the Welsh team, and they've all been coming up to the ticket desks with various blags.
The bummer of the dream, however, is that I go back to the pub before the game to for a slash. Almost leave my phone behind, then go back for it. But on the way back, I have to go back along some roadworks which have no barriers or protection around them. I'm holding the ticket in my hand, the same way I always do when I go the cinema (for fear of forgetting which pocket it's in). I'm already gutted as I've missed singing Gwlad in the stadium with the crowd (personal ambition), so thinkgs aren't going well, but I have seat C7 (third row, I'm thinking). And then one of these bits of plant equipment knocks it out of my hand, onto the smouldering tarmac! Ruining the ticket completely, as the bit I've recovered falls apart in my hand.
So.... answers on a postcard. Fucked if I know what it means!
... then had a dream about getting tickets for the Wales v Ireland game in two weekends. Have a chat with Brian O'Driscoll, who has suddenly replaced my dog, who dad didn't think had "long to go", also sitting with Gavin Henson in an "Irish" bar on some courtyard/shopping centre. Henson's worried about killing the apparently-ill O'Driscoll, in what is "probably O'Driscoll's last game" (due to illness? who knows...?) and tells me as much as we head off to the Millennium Stadium. When we get there, O'Driscoll's asked us to blag a ticket for his Mum. I come up with a ruse, but the girl at the ticket desk is much amused when Mrs O'Driscoll — a small, very white-haired lady — pops up behind the counter laughing, to reveal that Brian has played this joke on every member of the Welsh team, and they've all been coming up to the ticket desks with various blags.
The bummer of the dream, however, is that I go back to the pub before the game to for a slash. Almost leave my phone behind, then go back for it. But on the way back, I have to go back along some roadworks which have no barriers or protection around them. I'm holding the ticket in my hand, the same way I always do when I go the cinema (for fear of forgetting which pocket it's in). I'm already gutted as I've missed singing Gwlad in the stadium with the crowd (personal ambition), so thinkgs aren't going well, but I have seat C7 (third row, I'm thinking). And then one of these bits of plant equipment knocks it out of my hand, onto the smouldering tarmac! Ruining the ticket completely, as the bit I've recovered falls apart in my hand.
So.... answers on a postcard. Fucked if I know what it means!
Monday 7 March 2005
Combi-birthday weekend: predictable hangover
Mighty day and night on Saturday. Almost the whole shebang: very successful day at the races, good crowd out in the evening, drunken row between the birthday people back at the house, bodies on the floor yesterday morning, some of whom had to be left home by meself (very unwise), depths of hungover depression while everyone else slept on and I agonised over how bad the row (which I didn't remember, even at the time) was; rousing Student Ben and his mate from underneath the emergency duvets, and then all capped off with a hot dog and chips in the fresh air out at Newland's Corner (at the "24 hour" cafe).
Thursday 3 March 2005
28 Today!!
Don't think you get many cards with that badge on, do you...?
As I've been doing for the last couple of years, I mentally prepared myself from the 1st of January this year for being 28 (as well as driving home the fact that it was 2005), so that when 3rd March arrived, I'd actually remember what age I really was, not what I'd been. Technically, I'm only 28 around the time last orders are called (was that a warning sign?), but going to do the big combi-birthday bash on Saturday at the races, as long as the weather holds, with a wee drink or three in town tonight. Thinking of the Keystone as a bit of a reccy for Saturday.
Anyway, rang the mothership this morning to say hello and thanks for card, and that I would be coming home for Easter.
Random thought: snowy up here today, which was a susprise after leaving Gilferd.
Postscript: Neilo's plans to attend some birthday drinks at the weekend have been scuppered by him being sent to Scotland without his prior knowledge. Arse (bunch of).
As I've been doing for the last couple of years, I mentally prepared myself from the 1st of January this year for being 28 (as well as driving home the fact that it was 2005), so that when 3rd March arrived, I'd actually remember what age I really was, not what I'd been. Technically, I'm only 28 around the time last orders are called (was that a warning sign?), but going to do the big combi-birthday bash on Saturday at the races, as long as the weather holds, with a wee drink or three in town tonight. Thinking of the Keystone as a bit of a reccy for Saturday.
Anyway, rang the mothership this morning to say hello and thanks for card, and that I would be coming home for Easter.
Random thought: snowy up here today, which was a susprise after leaving Gilferd.
Postscript: Neilo's plans to attend some birthday drinks at the weekend have been scuppered by him being sent to Scotland without his prior knowledge. Arse (bunch of).
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