Day 249 July 22, 2008

A dinner out with JG: Pier36 great food, lovely wine (so much for my non-drinking pledge) and an offer of ten days in Tenerife…is this the ass-kick I need to finally do that school work? Should I channel that money I’ll spend at home anyway into something more worth while? I (if not my ailing bank balance) could certainly benefit from ten days spent reading by the pool (in fairness dragging my lardy ass to a poolside is a little less than tempting).The idea of returning to school relaxed and rested (and bronzed) is so very tempting!

The sensible side of me; so often ignored reminds me of the soaring cost of living and of all the things that remain on my ‘To Do’ list; remind me of the trips to London and Paris not yet fully paid for; and then the ditzy bimbo that really rules my soul says ‘Carpe Diem’; live for the now/ embrace the moment…

Decisions, decisions….

244, 245, 246, 247 and 248 July 22, 2008

Did I just hit publish on another mind-numbing mumbling better kept to myself: quite possibly!

But back to business:

244: a day at home doing almost nothing is hard to get excited about and nothing presents itself as a moment to cherish: I should really get those books out and remind myself that I have a job.

245: An impromptu coffee with Big Sis that also included Mum; to be honest though I wasn’t a huge fan of our chosen location; but was good to catch up.

A ‘quiet’ hen night: turned out to be just that; with two pregnancies and three new and therefore breast feeding Mummies seem to emphasise my increasing drunkenness and yet again someone should have confiscated my mobile phone.  Clearly drinking for four should shared out amongst the masses; it was good to let off a bit of steam.

246: Less steam would have been better: I’ll never learn that my body takes cold and cruel revenge when I try to poison it. The only merits to a hangover is that it eventually fades…

247: Good to wake up and not feel as if I’m dying and headed for hell…good to go home and eat ‘real’ food…not so good that my late night reading (a gripping autobiography: I’ve submitted Northern Irish politics for yet another Obama epistle: feeling I needed a little at home patriotism; I was worried that my tuneless humming would start to attempt ‘America the Beautiful’) has crept into the small hours and my consqeuent awakening somewhere around lunch.

248: I was invited to lunch at a friend’s house. A rambling, beautiful bungalow that has all the character of an old quaint farmhouse and none of the draughts. A girl I’ve known forever and ever; who has just had her second daughter a month ago. Another friend from forever was there with her 6 month old daughter. This was female bonding at its finest. The babies were lovely and momentarily hushed the ticking of my clock: I sat in quiet awe at how G managed a house, a 2 year old and the constant breast feeding a new baby demands. My long afternoon turned into an invitation to stay for dinner (I need at least three weeks notice for a coffee guest); a hard working husband managed to ‘bring home’ and make desert, feed L her dinner, reconnect with with the baby, do the dishes, entertain both me and the other guests that ‘called in’ and eat his dinner before heading ’back to do a few things’.  I started to wonder what it was I did with my time…

I’m blessed by generosity and hospitality; and by the easy friendship of those I’ve known a lifetime.

A digression, a confession and a re-assessment. July 22, 2008

So I’m back: a little shame faced and still searching through my own confusion.

Having re-read my last ‘365′ entry at various points over the past few days it took all of my less than considerable will-power not to delete it; that I did ‘fall in love’ with the delectable Mr Butler during last week’s movie moments remains as true now as it did then, but what I’m less sure about was my decision to ‘publish’ what really amounts to the silly confession of a lonely girl on a forum where the world can see it.

To delete number 243 would be to present a less than truthful account of myself in this journey of self-revelation; but all this pondering did lead me to realise that Carrie could definitely benefit from a little or a lot of self-censorship. And this realisation has forced me to consider many questions:Do the innocent bystanders (my family and friends) deserve to have the minutiae of their lives presented through my less than focused gaze? Do they even care? In a world where identity fraud is all too common-place, when every tiny detail of our increasingly electronic lives is up for public scrutiny why do I still seek the limelight?

Would I care about the reams and reams of pointless, silly, over-dramatic words I’ve committed to internet paper if I didn’t know that people I respect and need to respect me were the reading audience?

And the answers?

I like to write; and I love to read the writing of others. While Carrie O’Hara 365 was in its infancy; I thought that at some point it may  act as an account of a year; significant or otherwise that at sometime; perhaps many years from now, I would read again and rediscover my moments of madness and of magic. I enjoy the dialogue; the comments from one blogger to another; that I’ve ‘met’ an ever growing list of blog acquaintances and rediscovered ‘lost’ friends is to the credit of blogging. That I’ve discovered an (almost) daily discipline to commit something to paper is somehow also in a self-serving way meritorious. That Carrie’s real blog has given me an opportunity to write at length, almost regardless of the lack of merit in its content, is something I’m unwilling to walk away from.

Nothing that I’ve written in my 365 is untrue; there are of course the glaring sins of omission we all commit; and that I wish 243 was one of them may just be a truth I have to deal with facing. I guess I’m now, finally, at the crux of what I’m trying to say: I presented myself with a truth; nothing particularly world-altering or soul changing but less than flattering; something less the woman I’d hoped I was beginning to become and truth and the fallout such ‘revelations’ present are less than glorifying; yet I didn’t delete them; instead chosing to take a moment of self-analysis instead.

These words of confusion and confession would have been better squirelled away in the pages of a hid under the bed journal too….and that too is a truth I’ll just have to ponder; and take Carrie on the rest of her 365 journey.

(Of course it could just be that a girl without the daily grind of work, children and a demanding boyfriend to distract has much too much time on her hands to anaylse the twaddle that resides in her mangled mind!)

243: For the love of Gerard Butler July 16, 2008

I’ve fallen in love…it has happened before…in this same all consuming, stomach turning, seemingly life altering way…last time it was Jonathan Rhys Meyers when first watching Bend it like Beckham. Tonight it was Gerard Butler while watching PS I Love You…I’ve already googled him, with JRM I had to drag myself away from the closeted English department computer, and my stalkerish surfing of the net, to actually do my job and teach a class; that I’ve more month than money is the ONLY thing preventing me from buying Mr Butler’s entire filmography catalogue from Amazon (for the movie buffs amongst you this would include The Phantom of the Opera: a movie I’ve missed to my considerable peril)

 I’d advoided the film PS I Love You as the two reviews I’d read in now forgotten places had totally slated it; EVERYTHING had been wrong with this film. I’d loved the novel and didn’t want it to be sullied by a crappy re-interpretation…but I wanted to avoid another night of box sets I’d seen before so Sky Box Office to the rescue.

It is a chickflick and totally sappy but it is warm, emotional, poignant: the soundtrack is full of songs I loved (perhaps a trip to Amazon is in order?): in fact that MY leading man had a sexy Irish accent and a heartfelt, soul searching, singing voice made for much of his charm.

In the absence of a real-life counterpart; spending the night in the company of this particular leading man is the best ‘date’ I’ve been on in quite a while.

238,239,240,241 and 242: A life Reily could be proud of… July 16, 2008

For the love of Lily T…

#238

I’ve been a terrible cousin of late: my decamp to D’dee meant that I was no longer ‘just down the road’ for impromptu babysitting of  W and K. I hadn’t even seen either of them since Christmas (They said it had been,’Years and Years!’: I like to encourage their love of the dramatic) I happened to be at ‘home- home’ on the afternoon Uncle J phoned to need a babysitter: Mum and I were able to organise ourselves to allow  ‘Mummy and Daddy’ to go to a wedding.

I’d forgotten how much I love spending time with them both: how comical and innocent their view of the world is and how affectionate they both can be: K with her knee snuggling and endless desire to be cuddled; W in a much more reserved and serious way that makes his hugs moments of fleeting pleasure.

I thought Kung Fu Panda was WICK!

#239

An early start as Mum had to work and W and K were still at her house…way too much Scooby Doo (I was never a fan) but some lovely art work/ colouring in; and a great story about a sheep dog but it was high time for some serious playtime…

S and P had invited me for ‘cocktails’ this could have meant half the world would be at their place; or that the that I would be expected to party until dawn at some obscure club; instead it was my favourite third option: drinks and endless giggling at their place; just the three of us.

The cocktails were to die for (although P’s measuring was OVERgenerous) and the unveiling of the chocolate fondue fountain to belatedly celebrate my birthday was made all the more splendid by my acquiring a brand new handbag as well. It had been too long since I’d spent ‘real’ time with these warm, loving and truly witty guys. The giggling was no doubt ’spirit fuelled’ but the affection real…

#240

 A late brunch and a decision to brave the North Coast, we walked the very crowded Portstewart strand, S won an absolute fortune in ‘Phil’s of Portrush’ and I introduced the boys to the splendor that is Ramore Wine Bar (initially a  bad idea: given the fact that neither of them have any patience and have a need to be treated like Princesses by wait staff: but the true glory of Ramore cooking made listening to the tantrums worth it).

And yet even as the Atlantic Coast’s greatest applauder today’s moments were found during the journey: S had given me a pamphlet to read by a charity called Soulforce; its esteemed writer Rev/Dr Mel White wrote with insight, simplicity and knowledge about the complex and difficult issue of the bible and homosexuality. I know that his words had brought S closer to a point of re-finding a faith he constantly seeks; and it helped me; the spiritually ignorant, find important answers.

#241

We were unwilling to relinquish our holiday feeling…and decided to make use of P’s familial connections; he is the son of a farmer whose diversification project was a caravan/campsite over looking a lake. We spent a fortune buying bubbly and barbecue food before we left: the view alone worth a lottery win.

I also got to meet P’s Mum: a character in so many of his stories and one that has been considerably undersold.

Lily: you were right caravaning was the bliss you promised it would be: I see wheels and maps and various sunsets in my future.

#242

Our “romantic” row-boat trip upon the lake was funny only in the retelling: a choppy lake and reluctant rowers are not the stuff of Mills and Boon.

It was time to call it a day; time to re-discover the feel of my own bed; time to give P and S their relationship back. Home to unpack, have a bath, catch up on ‘my’ programmes through the pleasures of 4oD (and therefore to cry through ‘my’ first ‘Civil Partnership Ceremony’ on Brothers and Sisters)and to Rupert Penry Jones on the cover of this week’s Radio Times.  Life is good.

233, 234, 235,236 and 237 July 10, 2008

Another list: I don’t apologise…who is even reading my daily dose of bullcrap?

#233

A restless Sunday: I ruined the to quote the very annoying Sue Barker ‘truly unforgettable’ Wimbledon Men’s Final for Mum by moaning throughout about the boredom of tennis (sorry Smoothstones) the only thing I could find to appreciate was Roger F’s cute cardi…and creating a ‘background’ story for his worthy opponent that was based on the presumption that he had a very pushy sports driven father and a neglected ambition to play for Real Madrid (clearly the One Tree Hill has gone to my head Smoothstones; tell KBE that he doesn’t get to watch America’s Got Talent AND judge other dubious TV choices…)

#234

And a restless Monday: a day with nothing planned: cue finally unpacking the car and doing some school work? Little chance of that miracle… instead I caught up on house stuff, answered mail…boring, boring. I learnt an important lesson today: I need to take control of my own boredom and introspection.

#235

Today’s moment is easy: I spent the afternoon with Ryan, who is almost eight months old and absolutely gorgeous. Playing Mummy was a childhood past time I’ve never really grown out off: joyful moments when he laughed and laughed at his singing Iggle Piggle, the heartbreaking sound of his crying as he struggled to find sleep and then that poignant hour that he spent in my arms having found what he was looking for. There were two more great moments when ‘Mummy’ and ‘Daddy’ each returned: Ryan was so obvious about his utter delight: surely this is the antidote to any ‘bad work day scenario’? It has been too long since I spent time with a person this little; manna for the soul.

#236

A morning coffee with a great friend who made no fewer than three pregnancy announcements: the Era of the Yummy Mummy continues: and that of the cinnamon scone.Then a long-awaited and perhaps years overdue visit to my new dentist. I have a total ‘ostrich bury her head in quick drying cement’ approach to my dental health (cue the telling off from the blog Yummy Mummies): no real excuse beyond having had major teeth trauma since childhood and embracing all things dental would make me more masochistic than I tend to be…

Wasn’t too terrible…wasn’t wonderful either but some progress was made.

#237

I did a favour for a friend much in need of support (long and horrible story) and went paintballing today. I never saw the point: in fact as recently as last week I made GD  (a stag party/ paint ball veteran) explain its merits to me; he failed, miserably…

The ‘battlefield’ with its sand, sand bags, machine gun soundtrack seemed to make a mockery of the real thing. The others were impressed: I had very wrongly presumed that my lack of enthusiasm equated with my lack of testosterone: but no the other seven girls in the group were loving it. Along with my total lack of sporting prowess or ability I also skipped getting whatever part of chromosomal matter makes you competitive. I don’t get why ‘fake’ shooting your friends is enjoyable (in fact I had so much unused ammunition at the end that the very cute boy in the ‘army’ uniform checked my gun was operational) especially when the pain and the bruises are so real.

There was further torture in the form of archery, miniature golf and an inflatable assault course…

My moment: that I survived and am here to type the tale, that the friend in question enjoyed her day and that I NEVER EVER have to do such things again.

229, 230, 231 and 232 July 6, 2008

I know the lists are getting monotonous: but I’ve a lot to be grateful for this week… I’d confessed to Lily last week that I was worried about a rather empty summer holidays and the 365 boredom that would no doubt ensue but my first week has been filled with moments bittersweet and otherwise…

#229

Seeing the waiter in Pier 36 laughing  as I laughed much too loudly with Mel and G: I’ve forgotten the precise source of our humour but can remember his bemused expression. And I got to ‘feel’ the baby kick…

#230

It seemed Mel’s nesting/ need to sleep in her own bed my tiny and at times claustrophobic bachelorette pad / my talent for burning breakfast was going to cut short my time with two of my favourite people: but instead they suggested I followed them up the road and moved our trio to a new location: their place.

I’m so grateful for their generosity: that yet again they opened their hearts and their home (and their beer fridge) to me. Today’s moment was sitting have cream scones in a very quiet cafe in Portaferry, while Mel read aloud from a ridiculous tabloid newspaper.

#231

Another day of endless hospitality: we made it as far as Junction One and I spent too much money…but really enjoyed getting drunk on  beer in a sun-drenched garden with a little discussion of American politics thrown in for intellectual measure.

#232

And home finally beckoned. It was good to sleep in my own bed and to indulge in a night of solitude. I entirely indulged myself in my new found love of One Tree Hill: yes like many American ‘Teen’ Dramas: it is way too heavy on the moralistic voice over; and these ‘kids’ are about a decade too old for high school and it is all about the melodrama: but beyond my crush for Chad Michael Murray, I’ve found characters to care about: storylines to engage  with and something to escape a wet and fling free summer.

(225,226) 227 and 228 July 1, 2008

This was supposed to be a blog about the glories of summer freedom; drinking cocktails in Dublin and the resurrection of my love for Ronan, Stephen, Shane, Mikey and Keith but real life pervaded my blissful existence…

225 and 226 may appear in due course…

I return to last night (227) and an unexpected but welcome phone call that announced the imminent arrival of Lily Todd. Even my travel weary mind worked out that her journey to North Down was for a wake for the father of a mutual friend…I’d decided that for links friendship and familial, I had to go to the funeral…

My moments with Lily were such that I was reminded what makes her, her: I was in a particularly opinionated mood: and we managed in just over an hour to do the sort of catch up that I manage with few other people in my life. It was coffee, and conversation: silent Boyzone, life, death and laughter: it was Lily Todd and I love her.

And to today: I constantly worry that I subject myself to the funerals of others in some sort of search for self-centered catharsis. The less introspective part of me realises; that despite the horrors of my family’s loss we don’t get a monopoly on grief. I don’t get to bypass the raw suffering of others because I experienced it too.

I’m grateful today to get to do a very little something for other people: for Lily; she stood for Sara and I stood behind her, for Little Bro: his friend’s father had died and he was a hemisphere away; and for a the boy I remembered as Little Bro’s friend who has lived a lifetime in 26 years: Daniel stood by his sister as she read a poem at their father’s funeral: offering her a support so poignant it defies description.

I could, as I’ve said before, with little effort write a list of the people who ‘appeared’ for me at Daddy’s funeral: I needed our family name to be on Daniel and Sara’s list.

And I’m grateful for JG who yet again took me out for dinner; listened to my woes and shared hers.

Days 221, 222, 223 and 224 June 26, 2008

Be grateful people of blogland that I’ve been ‘otherwise detained’: you have been spared yet another week of work driven moaning.

#221

The last Monday of term too busy to really enjoy that moment. Big Sis came over for chat and herbal tea (I stick to the coffee) was good to catch up but worry that relationship advice from me ‘the most single girl on the planet’ may lack clarity and direction.

#222

The ‘Welcome Yr 8′ evening at school: it was good to dress up in a suit and heels and be the ‘professional’: work has been about too many ‘other’ things recently. What actually made today though was S: he came to stay we had champagne and Chinese in our pjs and a conversation that reminded me how much I love him.

Didn’t sleep a wink though!

#223

I don’t dare ask what S did in the bathroom for 45minutes but HATE, HATE, HATE being late: I had time to break a wine glass and a cup, clear up the mess: cook and eat breakfast and still he was semi-naked and singing from my bedroom: made me grateful for my single living status.

This was a very hard earned half day from school; but I had my ‘at school gym’ induction: I had a long list of things to do, but after the exercise and lack of sleep: I hit the sofa and awoke sore and annoyed two hours later; bang went my productive evening. I’m hoping the shut eye served me better than the productivity.

#224

Today’s theatre trip to Blood Brothers was incredibly shambolic: in total fairness to the teacher involved organising 87 pupils is huge: but it is within reach. We all looked ridiculous today: that we all made it to the Opera House and back with all 87 still intact is something of a miracle.

But the production itself never fails to move me: the humour of the characterisation; the talent of the cast; those horrifying shots and the ‘Tell Me, It’s not True’ finale that is heartbreaking every time: I was sobbing as I came to my feet for the standing ovation. Even the most jaded of pupils are touched in some way.

Go see it!

 

Day 217, 218, 219 and 220 (where did this week go?) June 22, 2008

#217

Thursday: went to dinner with my sister, was good to catch up with the passing pages of her new romance and good to spend the night chatting with our favourite SATC episodes playing in the background. We both need to find the time to do this more.

#218

A work bbq at a beautiful location: a farm place nestled between Slieve Croob and Slieve Donard: on the sort of deck with a pot bellied stove that creates an alfresco atmosphere totally perfect for the Northern Ireland climate. Was good to meet with people I don’t normally spend a lot of time with in work…was good to be sober and and observant rather than the one feeling like she is being observed…

#219

A shopping/ lunch trip to Belfast were I spent too much money in House of Fraser: was totally overwhelmed by just how great our little city has become. A rainsoaked coffee in Cafe Nero with fabulous biscotti and making the right decision to stay at home for the night rather than brave the rain once more.

Mum and I finally overcame our indecisiveness and booked four days in Paris at Hallowe’en: tres bien!

And late last night just as I was pouring a glass of wine I stumbled across Gone with the Wind: movie magic.

#220

The arrival of a second daughter for a close family friend. The satisfaction of FINALLY cleaning my house/ doing my ironing/ being as close as I ever come to actual domesticity. And now I wait for Mum to take me to dinner…tough being me!