Inner Punk

Do you ever feel like just letting go? Just going off the rails for just a while? I do. Something inside of me just begs to be set free, I call it my 'inner punk'. A part of me that is suppressed for too long. Everybody has an inner punk, though many do not ever let it show. In today's world, it is socially unacceptable for your inner punk to reveal itself. We live in a world that has become obsessed with money and status, and people will stop at nothing to become the very best. Even if it means forgetting who they really are.

Today was one of those days, I decided to dress scruffier than usual. Clad in denim, ripped jeans, boots that have seen better days, multiple bracelets, necklaces, hair just thrown back, music blasting through my headphones, I set upon my journey across town to my Dad's house. I could feel eyes on me as I walked. I knew it was because of the way I had chosen to dress this particular day. It was not 'typical' attire for a young woman. I don't care. I was comfortable for the first time in a long time. That's when I started to think about it.

I started to notice how people dress to suit society's norms, not how they really want. They have become brainwashed by society. Children of the Celtic tiger. Always working to make more money. I agree, money is important of course, however, it is not everything. They start to mold themselves into people they think they need to be in order to succeed. They somehow get lost along the way. They start to forget who they were before they began climbing, and start to believe the life they've created. I hate fake people. Don't lose yourself just to become successful.

Personally if I suppress my true personality I feel less confident. I lose my spirit. An example, in the place where I work I have to wear a uniform, sensible shoes, hair tied back, no bracelets etc, etc. I don't like it. I feel like I can't express who I am. I mean, I can hardly go around looking scruffy or edgy while working. This is what has become of the world. Freedom of expression is restricted. There's not many places or people who accept certain looks. It's ridiculous. I suppress my style, I suppress my personality. These people will never know the true me. I'm not sure they'd ever want to.

All these restrictions annoy me. To think that I have to think carefully before getting a tattoo in a visible place because it may not be 'acceptable' in a working environment is bull crap. You don't know the meanings of them or the reasons behind which one may have gotten them. I have several piercings. So? What's that to you? It doesn't affect the quality of my work. Neither does my expressive personality. Stop buying into all these limitations that are created by society. Fight the demands. Be original. Not a clone.

I may dress edgier/scruffier than most girls. I may not spend hours on my make up. I don't wear heels and I don't like girly girl things. So what? I am who I am.  I don't judge people who are into those things, why should you judge me for going against the norm? For having the courage to express myself even though society may not be impressed.Who cares? I might look different or whatever but I still harbor the true values that have been long forgotten by many people, friendship, family, loyalty and freedom of expression. Where have they gone? The world is too organised these days. You'll find that the most successful people are often the ones who are not afraid to express themselves freely. These are the true heroes of the world. Don't be afraid to let your inner punk be free, even just for a little while.

P.S. I still love my cat.

A fear of flying.

I've had a bit of writers block for the past while in terms of what I should post about. Should I post about some nonsense that people don't care about but read anyway? No. Should I drone on about my problems to the world? Hell no. Should I write about work? Absolutely not (I've been there for the last six hours. Why would I want to relive it?). This post, my lovelies, is about my frustration in preparing to move to France for a whole year. Yep, you heard correctly. I'm off to France to study as part of my degree. I know you all think this might be thinking; Sure isn't that great? Living in France for a year. Well for some. These are all things I've heard when I've said I have to go to France. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm absolutely chuffed that I get to spend a year in the south of France. (Oh, the weather). But the organising is no walk in the park let me tell you. It's extremely costly too. How am I going to afford to eat? I've no idea, maybe the government's money will come in handy and buy me some bread. Who knows?

To say I was terrified about moving abroad for a whole year would be an understatement. Back in September it was grand, I mean it was a good 10 months away, no need to worry about it. But those months just seemed to creep up on my like a rain cloud on a summers day. Suddenly I was bombarded with decisions. Spain or France? Which city? Where will I live? How will I afford it? What airline? It. drove. me. crazy. I started to get anxious. I didn't know the answers to half these questions. I wanted to run and hide and come back when it was all sorted for me. I knew that this would never happen.

I had to make decisions though. (however bad I may be at it). So my destination for my Erasmus is Avignon, South of France. Is it the right decision? I guess I won't know 'til I get there. I leave Kilkenny  on the 29th of August. It isn't that far away. I'm excited, scared and sad all at the same time. It's a strange mix of emotions. I don't really know how I feel.

You never realise how much you've depended on people and things until you actually have to leave. I mean, it'll be strange not seeing my friends and family all the time. I can tell you right now that my friends are going to get extremely pissed off at me cause I will want to Skype all the time. I can see it now. I'm going to be homesick. This is a certainty. I'm going to miss my family. What will I do without the deep conversations with mam? Or the banter with the brothers? I'll feel so...empty.

I'll be back of course, as much as I can afford. I mean, I want to enjoy my year abroad but I also don't want to forget my roots. I don't want to lose contact. A lot can happen in a year. I have this ridiculous fear that I am/everybody else is going to change too much and I won't fit anymore. I won't know what to do with myself. Friends and family are such a central part of my life as is. What's it going to be like when we're in different countries?

It would be so easy for me to back out of this and just not go. I could back out tomorrow and it'd be all forgotten. But then I'd regret it in the future would I not? You always regret the things you didn't do. That's what I've heard anyway. There are so many reasons that could make me stay, some of them logical, some not so much. But I'm not a quitter. I'll go, I'll explore, I'll have adventures, I'll french it up a little. You never know, it could be the making of me. Or so my Mam says.

I'm not going to lie to you people. This is the most single terrifying adventure of my life to date and I'll miss everyone so much. No doubt it'll be wonderful. No doubt I'll meet great people and create life long memories. But in the end there's no place like home..

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.  - Mark Twain

You are what you write.

I love writing. I'm a writer, always have been, always will be. I get an idea into my head and I just gotta get it down on paper right away. A prime example. It is currently 1:30 am and I am writing a blog post, the idea came to me just as I was about to close my eyes for a good nights rest, but clearly my mind had other ideas.

Writing to me is like therapy to another. It releases emotion. I can create a world in which I can escape with just one touch of a pen to paper. A whole new world opens up and it can be whatever I want it to be. Once I start I just can't stop. It's an addiction. I feel free, like I can be whoever I want to be when I write. The sky's the limit. There's no rules on what you can and can't write. It's one of the few things left in the world that isn't restricted. I can be me.

There may be a lot happening around me, but when I write none of it matters. I don't hear or see anything. I'm present in body but not spirit. My mind is elsewhere. I'm engulfed in the new life I have created. The characters have become my family, their life has become my own. I've escaped. I feel, hear, see everything that I write. If I close my eyes it almost feels... real.

I write about everything, no matter how big or small it may be. My life becomes words which become sentences which become paragraphs which become pages. It goes on and on until I run out of material. It's never too long before I come across something else to write about. My mind is always ticking. The stories manifest in my brain before I can even comprehend what is happening.

I make mistakes, I formulate them into a story. I create a plot. I play it out. I don't like the ending. I change it. That's the best thing about writing. The thing that I love the most. You can write about all the things you've done wrong or the horrible things you've said. You can write them down exactly as they happened. Only one thing is different. You can erase them. You change them, make them better. Change the ending. And for a while, it feels right.

I achieve things. I celebrate with words. I make them into songs, poetry, whatever I might feel like writing. I write it. You can even elaborate on the celebrations, make them bigger than they should be. Nobody will bat an eyelid. Why? Because it's fiction. It's supposed to be 'out of this world'.

The excitement I feel while I write is indescribable. Unless you've felt it before you will never know what it's like. To finally finish a great piece. Something you've been working on for a long time. When it's done and dusted, it feels amazing.

When you get praised for your work. To know that people actually enjoyed reading something that you wrote all by yourself. Without the help of anybody else. That's real accomplishment. To know that your words have inspired somebody else to start writing, to follow their passions or to even begin to hope again, there is no better feeling.

To know that a part of you will always live on through your writing is piece of mind. To know that maybe your work may be passed down through generations, well isn't that enough for anybody?

You can say anything you want with words. There are no limits on creativity, put the pen to paper and just write, a story will be born. Everybody has a story to tell it's just about having the courage to find it. As William Wordsworth said 'Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.'

Writing. That's real happiness.

What if Facebook and Twitter died tomorrow?

How would we all cope? Today's world is occupied with people who spend their lives reading about other people's lives on these particular social networking sites. But what if there were no social networking sites? How would we all survive? The survival of this very blog depends on my usage of social networking. So what if it all ended tomorrow? It all disappeared? I myself just wouldn't know what to do.

How would we inform the world what we ate for lunch? (Like they care) or what we dreamed about last night? (I think people care) I'm pretty sure if there were no social networking sites people would resort to buying megaphones and declaring their news to the general public. There would be outrage. The world would become crazy (crazier). Nobody would know what was going on in the world of A-listers or what the hottest trends were. Hours wouldn't be spent online anticipating the release of the name of the newest celebrity baby. I've decided that social networking is an addiction. Us people living in the 21st century are addicted to social networks. It's a fact we can no longer deny.

People share everything on Facebook and Twitter (sometimes more than is necessary). Their photos. Their relationships. Their hobbies. Their children. Their phone numbers. There is just no privacy in the world anymore. The world can't handle privacy. What would happen if people couldn't post photos of themselves and their friends having a 'session' so that they can look 'cool' to their peers? They'd just have to text it to everybody in hopes that somebody cares. If they couldn't show of their new hairstyle (I'm guilty of this one)? They'd have to actually wait until they saw their friends again. Now that just wouldn't do.

I'm pretty sure there would be a universal melt down. And what about those who have grown up with social networking? This is the only life they've known. Most of their friends have been made online. Now surely they would just like die or something? At least us 90's babies would have some hope of reforming ourselves to the times before social networking. There might just be hope for us yet. But maybe not. Maybe the world has become too dependent on social networking. It is the main mode of communication these days. Letters? What are they? (what has happened to the oul traditional ways!)

After thinking about this for all of 15 minutes I have come to the conclusion that everybody's life would just collapse without the world of social networking. Without being able to inform the world of our everyday errands via tweet or status update the world just wouldn't work. God forbid we keep these little happenings to ourselves. But unfortunately peeps, we have all become victim to the trap that is social networking. It's just the way it is. The world keeps evolving. Just think how much of your life is virtual and how much is real? Now, there's something to think about.

You know what I would do if all social networking sites were to end? I'd make a new one.

Why Oh Why?

This post is about things I don't understand (you might not care but I'm going to tell you anyway!). Why do people think it's necessary to add frills, flowers and bows etc. to the majority of girls clothing? We're not all in favor of this particular fashion trend. Some of us like to dress in shirts and jeans. It may not be typical attire for girls but who cares? There is absolutely no need what so ever to add frills, to like EVERYTHING, does it not itch really bad? I. don't. like. frilly. things.

Another thing. When I watch TV in the evenings, you know, after a long hard day of doing absolutely nothing (it's tiring stuff really), my family decide to not talk but shout to one another during the show and then during the ad breaks they shut up. Why? This really confuses me. Ad breaks are vital talking time. Nobody cares about ads. Don't. interrupt. my. watching. TV.

Algebra. It makes absolutely no sense to me. Never did. To this day I have not used it since leaving school. What was the point in learning it? Simple. There is none. Although, a maths teacher once told me that it is used when building a rocket ship, cause ya know, that was totally next on my list of things to do. It. is. useless. (except for those who study mathematical things of course)

Wrapping paper. I love it, don't get me wrong or anything. But. You wrap all these gifts, they look extremely pretty. Then you rip all that paper off and throw it out. Isn't that a waste of money? Why buy it for it to be ripped off days later. I've resorted to buying bags, at least you can reuse these and  I hate wasting money. Just. be. practical.

Ireland's weather. What up with that? I know the majority of you guys will agree with me. Snow in April? Rain in July? Sun in November? What is going on? It frustrates me not knowing the seasons, this is something that is essential to know. Ireland. quit. being. bipolar.

Fake tan. Now this I really don't understand. People, we're Irish, we're not supposed to be tanned. It's like the law or something. And like sometimes (a lot of the time) it looks orange. Actually, the other day I saw this girl and she had fake tan on but it looked like she forgot to finish it because it stopped at her ankles. It was pretty obvious that tan was not real. Plus, your face always looks far lighter than the rest of your body. That's not supposed to be the case. But ya know, if that's what you're into work away. I'll be stickin' to the traditional white. I'm pale and proud!

High Heels. Good god. I tried them. I gave up. They hurt. They're unstable. They're a lot of unnecessary hassle, sure just throw on the oul converse and you'll be grand! No need for all that stilt (to me, they feel like stilts)  malarkey.  All that balancing is just too much concentration. No bueno dude, no bueno.

People. I just don't get them at all. They go out in little to no clothing in the winter time (are you not cold?!?). They complain about a ridiculous amount of things. They never know what they want. And the thing I don't understand the most about people (including myself) is why they just can't be direct. If everybody was direct about what they feel/think (okay, maybe not everything, I don't want to know everything) then the world would be a more understanding place.

Finally, I. don't. get. Snuggies. A blanket with sleeves? Have you never heard of a dressing-gown? And why is it open at the back? That means only the front of you is warm. That defeats the purpose of blanket methinks.And lets not forget it looks absolutely ridiculous (and please don't even try to tell me it doesn't cause I will turn and walk the other way).  It is one of the most pointless things invented in the world. Along with the pet massager (why would I want to massage my pet?) and the pizza fork (I don't eat pizza with a fork, so why would I want a pizza fork?). These things exist. I swear.

Judgment.

This is a serious post. Just because I do this thing where I pretend everything is all fun and games so that I can avoid the serious topics. Unfortunately, life is filled with seriousness (but fun too). The topic of this post is judgment. I hate it. It is the most utterly degrading thing in the world. People make assumptions at first glance, without a second thought. Why? What gives you the right?

I've been judged. My friends have been judged. My family has been judged. Everybody has been judged at some point. Doesn't make it feel any better. Actually, it makes it worse, knowing that those who judge you know how it feels but they do it anyway. The purpose of this post is to maybe, just maybe, make you think before you judge.

You might think you know a person but you really don't have a clue. That still doesn't give you a right to call them names or make them feel shite about themselves. You don't know what they've been through, what they've had to deal with, could be nothing, could be something. You could be the final straw. Don't make them give up. Life shouldn't be something to give up on. It should be enjoyable. Don't be the one that makes them hate the world.

And to those who are judged don't change just because of other peoples opinion of you. It's not worth your time or energy. It all becomes irrelevant anyway. You'll move on. They'll move on. You probably won't even remember them in ten years time. Just be you and that's all anybody can ask from you. They don't have the right to ask anything more. It's not their life.

So I'll end this post now cause I don't want to rant on for ages. Just please think before you judge somebody. Think about what they might be going through in their own life. Walk in their shoes for a second then walk away. Don't say or do anything. Just walk away.

P.S. I just got called a bagel by a certain somebody (you know who you are). I feel hurt that you equate me to a piece of 'crusty bread with a hole in the centre' (I'm not really hurt. I'm just exposing you as a name caller to the internet.). I've also been called a spoon before, people gotta get some better insults!

Cajun chicken bagel without the chicken?

So recently I started a new job. Well, new in the sense that I haven't worked in that particular premises before. However, I have been a waitress since I was fifteen. Now, the title may seem strange but there is a funny story behind it which I will proceed to tell you. Yesterday was my first day on the deli (in this job), as you might guess I was kind of nervous about this as it is very stressful and a lot to remember in one day. So as I was being trained these two people came to the counter. Now was my time to shine, to show my skills. Or so I thought. The two customers asked for a toasted Cajun chicken bagel each, which was grand, pretty straight forward. I mean, there's a list on the side of the fridge with the ingredients on it so ya know, just follow that and I'll be flying it. I went ahead and made the bagels anyway and gave them to the customers. Shouldn't have done that. Why you ask? Wait for it..

I FORGOT THE BLOODY CHICKEN. I mean seriously. I know I'm a bit on the daft side at the best of times but the clue is in the name, it's a Cajun chicken bagel. I don't know about you folks but I'd say it's pretty darn obvious what's in that bagel. I can't believe I did that.. (but really it's a very typical me thing to do)

And while we're on the topic of funny stories here's another one for ya. Last summer while my Mam was away, I decided I'd be good and clean the house (I swear this wasn't because I had people coming over for a house party or something..pfft...who would do that while parents are away?). Anyway, there's this mirror that my Mam has wanted to hang in the downstairs bathroom for yonks now. So I thought, can't be that hard? I decided I'd try my hand at D.I.Y. My nearest and dearest know that I'm a very clumsy person (I know, odd trait for a waitress) so this was most definitely not my forte. But sure never know unless you try right? So I went ahead and drilled holes in the wall (after measuring the distances of course), then put the screws in the wall etc, etc. but then, when I tried to put the mirror up, it didn't fit. I could have sworn I measured it properly. I was wrong. So I took out most of the screws but went I got to the last one, it got stuck in the god damn wall! I couldn't get it out, I even got people to try at my party but it didn't work! In the end I hung a compact mirror on it and hoped my Mam wouldn't notice. She did. It was probably funnier at the time but I mean come on..those of you who know me, can you imagine me trying to hang a mirror? I think I overestimate my abilities..a lot. So now we have a random screw and multiple holes in our bathroom wall, and people still ask questions.. 

Moral of these stories: 

1. Don't enter the waiting profession. Ever. Trust me, it's not as fun or easy as it looks. And you forget all sorts of things. Like chicken in a bagel.

2. Don't be a feminist and think you can D.I.Y. I mean, please, you will hurt yourself with things like hammers and drills. These are men's jobs. Screw the feminist movement. 

You called your child what now?

Hey there people of earth. Now, some of you may know, others will not, that I have been a writer from a very young age. Songs, Poems, Stories, Screenplays, you name it, I write it. I used to be very private about my writing but recently with the encouragement of friends and family I have decided to become more open about it. And what better way to do that but to start a blog? Recently I've seen an increase in the amount of people using blogs so I said to myself why not jump on that bandwagon? I'm pretty sure my family are sick to the bones of my rantin' and ragin' so maybe I should express my thoughts to the vast universe that is the internet.

There was one thing in particular that came to mind when I was thinking about a topic for my first post; The utterly ridiculous names that celebrities give to their children. I mean whats up with that? Do you want your children to be bullied? Apple? Peaches? Blue Ivy? I. Just. Don't. Get. It. I'm not sure what the purpose of these names are! Okay yeah, naming your child Paris or Brooklyn, after cities..these are normal-ish. But fruit  or colours? Why? It blows my mind. Its makes me sad to think what happened to the good oul traditional names like Mary or John. Did they get lost in transit? 

Do these people think they need more attention? What if everybody named their children bizarre things? Like they just picked the first thing they saw. People would be walking around with names like 'Chair' or 'Desk'. I don't understand how they can think these names are perfectly acceptable. I feel bad for these kids. They're in for a long ride. But hey, maybe they like their names? Who knows. The world is crazy.

And that is where I'll leave you for now, think about that for a while (but not too hard). Until next time my fellow beings!