He’s a Super Freak, Super Freak/He’s Super-Freaky
It appears I married a freak. Well, not so much a freak, but a man of freakish intelligence. Boyfriend is the annoying type of person that will nail an exam or assessment with (or what appears to be) minimal effort. Boyfriend combines study techniques with an incredible aptitude and masters any exam.
A couple of months ago he decided to make a go at the incredibly difficult exams that are GAMSATS. He committed to studying, but did not do all that much. He did not even buy the right books. He considered this attempt a practice round. Following the exam he dismissed his attempt as a waste of time. Based on track record and his modesty, I knew there was a chance he’d nailed it. As I said, he’s amazing like that.
The results for the UK GAMSATS were published this morning. Boyfriend attained the mark he needed. He’s amazing. I mean he’s incredible. I’ve never met anyone like him.
Swiners
A cough developed in a couple of hours. This was followed by high fever, chills, nausea, headaches and fatigue. I went to the doctor this morning. It’s official; I have swine flu.
Blind Ignorance
MyopicPsychotic (MP) – “Why are the covers of Andrea Bocelli’s albums always the same?”
Boyfriend – “What do you mean the same?”
MP – “Why does he always have his eyes closed?”
Boyfriend – “Maybe it has something to do with the fact he’s blind!”
MP – “Is Andrea Bocelli blind?”
Phone Conversation with Father
Dad – Did you go to Stephen Gately’s funeral on Saturday night?
MyopicPsychotic (MP) – “No. Why would I go to his funeral?”
Dad – “I thought you’d be interested in that?”
MP – “Why would I be interested?”
Dad – “Well you are gay and he is gay so I thought that would be a reason.”
Shoes Glorious Shoes …
I am on a shoe buzz at the moment. I have fallen in love with both of the below. The first are Cuban Boots. I really, really want these. The second are a sophisticated pair of Kurt Geigers that Best Friend is going to pick up for me next week on his trip to London. These are as good as in the bag in my opinion.
Ignore the Sender
The coat stand in the office collapsed on a colleague for the third time. At the department meeting that week some person with initiative suggested we email the Facilities Department and request a new coat stand. Yes, I am jealous of her ability to give a shit.
“It’s dangerous,” said the colleague with initiative. “It nearly fell on the person.”
Perhaps we should leave it in place, I thought. It might result in one less colleague to bother me. I was in one of those moods when everyone was annoying me.
I piped up. My department looked towards me in unison.“I emailed them last week and requested a new coat stand. I didn’t receive a reply.”
Colleague with Initiative looked surprised. “I wonder why they didn’t reply …”
I thought nothing of the lack of response from the Facilities Department. I put it down to bad manners or lack of efficiency. One evening, while regaling a friend on the drama of the coat stand, my friend asked me if I email Facilities often.
“I’ve emailed them a few times, yes.”
Later that evening I thought on the emails I have sent Facilities during my year and a half with my current employer. Since my start date, I have sent emails on the following matters:
- There is no washing up liquid in the kitchen
- There is no hand soap in the bathroom
- There is no hot water in the showers
- There is a funny smell in the office
- The air con is not cooling enough
- The air con is too cold
- The changing room smells
- We need a new coat stand
- We need a new scrubbing brush in the kitchenette
- There is a leak in the kitchen
- The composting bin smells
Is it really any surprise they didn’t reply to my email?
My New Outlet via a Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian
College was probably one of the favourite periods of my life. I loved it because it was very social. I knew so many people. There was always someone with whom I could laugh. Most students were from “down the country” as Dubliners referred to it. We country mice used college as a hang out as opposed to a place of learning. Monday to Friday entailed twenty hours of lectures. The rest of our time was spent messing. My college pals and I passed our time in the students union; binging on piles of junk food; talking about sex (and getting none); and sharing information on the guys we fancied (and borderline stalked). The craic was plentiful.
The students from Dublin treated college like a part-time job. They never arrived early and left as soon as lectures ended. Some were uninterested in making friends. They reserved themselves to chit chat before a lecture. Evening outings were out of question for them unless it was one of the seldom functions scattered on the academic horizon. The Dublin students had no dependency on college as a social outlet; they had long-established friends from home. I never understood why anyone might not want more friends. You can never have too many in my opinion.
A year after college I had plenty of friends. Progressing time and increasing complexity of life caused the expanses of my college group to deplete. Time constraints limited the frequency we met. My fledging relationship (and newly discovered joys of sex) actively distracted me. As the years passed, I met with college friends less and less. I gradually realised we had little in common. Slowly the boundaries of my social world receded. Last year, my handful of close friends took a further hit when one went travelling, a second moved to London and another left Dublin.
It’s understandable why I miss the college days, but I sometimes wonder if the friendships back then were bonded out of naivety, pure necessity and circumstance. There we were at the age of eighteen, fresh faced, open minded and away from home for the first time of our lives. We intended having a good time and pretty much did. Today, when I meet my former, college classmates the conversation does not flow. The awkwardness usually subsides after a drink or two. Perhaps, those nonchalant students who lived in Dublin already knew this.
I am certainly not lonely at the moment. I have plenty of good friends. An interesting observation I made a few months ago is that my group of friends and Bestfriend’s friends are slowly merging. His close friend from college, Miss Polly, is now a good friend of mine. I know Miss Polly’s and her husband’s family. I view these expanding networks to be roots. My settling down has been slow and gradual. Overall, it’s a nice feeling. It’s solid. My current existence is probably the most permanent I’ve ever known. I realise I have a place in the world, but I still need to meet new people.
I can continually long for the college days when “a stranger’s just a friend you haven’t met”. Alternatively, I can do something. With the help of a friend, I located a Book Club based in Dublin. They are meeting 20th October and I intend joining them. It will be healthy for me to meet some strangers – or potential friends – or even just learn something new. Life is about exposure and I am missing certain outlets. I’ll read the book, A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian, attend the meeting and talk about the book with some strangers. It can’t be that hard, can it?
Certainly no molehill
I climbed the below mo-fo last Sunday during a weekend in Donegal. I’d lie if I said the walk wasn’t tough. At times I was on all fours, crawling across loose scree. The highlight of the walk (for me) was Kevin falling into a bog hole. I laughed hard as I helped him out. The lowlight of the walk (and highlight for everyone else) was me falling into a bog hole not once, but twice. No one helped me. Everyone was too busy doubling over in laughter. I was immobile; stuck in bog muck up to my shins. The level of laughter increased when I tried to pull a leg out only to topple over onto my hands. I was not even out of the car ten minutes at this stage. I washed my hands in a stream and attempted my ascension with wet socks and squelchy boots.
Dealing with (sh)It!
A certain party are giving me a hard time at the moment. I’ve gone from worried to stressed to angry to upset. At this stage I’m just fed up. This evening I dealt with my hassles the way any male in his mid-twenties does.
I rooted through my rarely used CD collection, looking for a particular CD. I set the album to the desired track and turned it on full blast, mouthed the words and did the hand actions associated with the performer.
Don’t look at me
Every day is so wonderful
And suddenly it’s hard to breathe
Now and then I get insecure
From all the pain, feel so ashamed
I am beautiful no matter what they say
Words can’t bring me down
I am beautiful in every single way
Yes, words can’t bring me down, oh no
So don’t you bring me down today …
