Saturday, February 18, 2006
Cities rise...empires fall...continents drift...glaciers grow and recede...and aidan updates his blog.
Howaryeh! (Been practicing my dub)
Should apologise here and now for the spelling; mo's laptop has a sticky 'n' key and it doesn't always work.
So life continues apace. I'm still holed up in rathmines like a demoralised dictator in his bunker, cos I'm still not rich enough to afford even the meanest of hovels in this city to call my own. Been applying for more jobs than I can keep track off, both the shitty pump-jockey types and the pie in the sky dream variety, but they are united in their lack of interest in what I got to offer. Worse, I've found my bitterness to be leaking into my writing, which isn't necessarily bad for certain articles; everyone likes a bit of blood and thunder in their journalism, but isn't as welcome on job applications. When I first got here they were all like:
My dear, dear sir/madam,
Forgive me for having the impertinence of stirring you from your weighty and exciting daily business with my unworthy words, but I was wondering, perchance, if you would have some post in your enterprises where my wretched vessel could be of some small service to you...
Though gradually they have become more along the lines of:
Listen up fuckhole,
I've seen you. I seen the people you employ. I don't know much, but I know how to recognise a shower of no-account, hacky, scarcely sapient turd-burglers when I see them. Meanwhile there's someone who at least knows which end of a pencil to write with, and which to pick his arse with, starving to death because he can't get work in your city. And just before I do, believe me when I say I'm going to follow you home and do it on your wife's car, just so I can die with the satisfaction of showing her what a shitheel she married. I look forward to hearing from you soon...
Bitterness and e-mail is a dangerous cocktail.
In other news, I saw what I'm reliably informed is the first picture of my first nephew or niece, though at first I thought I was looking at a blurry satellite photograph of the Philippines. For those of you hadn't heard, Edel's pregnant. Suggestions for names can be posted here; Edel suggested Jesus (cos it's a miracle), even though she and Luke had both promised me their first born son would be named Axel, thus fulfilling a personal ambition I've harboured since a young age; to be related by blood to Axel Foley.
TV has pretty much been eradicated from my life, which is one of the few things I’m happy about these days. I make half an effort to go out to Brenda’s once a week to keep up with ‘My Name is Earl’ (and, of course, to see Brenda). I successfully resisted the temptation to watch the second series of Lost, which began on RTE just about the time series 1 ended on C4. Too much effort to be arsed, and once you fall behind, you’re screwed. The new series of Desperate Housewives has also been running for a while here, but again, just don’t see the point anymore. I have, however, got some tickets to go see the new Podge and Rodge show being filmed over in Donnybrook in a few weeks, which promises to be a laff.
Work is OK. I think Catherine (my boss) is trying to tell me something, though. On Thursday morning she removed me from the helpdesk and showed me to a table with a few thousand letters and envelopes. Other people may have taken this as an insult, but fuck it, after dealing with fucking Med graduates and their God complexes for a few weeks, I welcomed some good old fashioned monotony. They also, rather thoughtfully, provided me with Reese Witherspoon to keep me company while I did the work. She works up in the registrar’s office, and I can only surmise that she has proved herself as singularly incompetent up there as I have down on the front lines. She also insists her name is Susanne, but her lies don’t fool me.
And finally, the award for ‘Least pleasant thing to happen to me for at least a month’ goes to me crashing Grainne’s car into a ditch two weeks ago. I’d like to thank God, Puffy and whatever witch doctor placed this curse on me in the first place; I’m going to find you, motherfucker, and when I do I’m going to make you my bitch.
Aido ‘I’m thinking of changing my name to “Stavros”, whatd’ya think?’ Potato.