So, after two weeks being put up by my girlfriend’s very kind mother in the Mayo countryside (and nearly stuffed in the process – more on that later), Helena and I have finally found a place in Dublin that’s both affordable and fairly central. We’re a five minutes walk from O’Connell Street in North Dublin, and can almost literally fall out of bed into the supermarket, post office and Ireland’s only pub with its own villa fan club (well, as far as I know, but it’s a fair bet, right?). The place itself is small but nice, and just in case anything better does come up, we’re on a one-month rolling contract. Though frankly, if I don’t have to house hunt again for another year or two I’d be more than happy.
So, in answer to the first question I’ve been asked by pretty much everyone over the past two week (where am I), my new address is:
90 Upper Dorset Street,
As some of you might know, my birthday was last week, which makes me the ripe old age of 26. Maybe I’d better stop ranting about pensioner holidays (see last entry), as I’m now well past a third of the way there ;). I have sneaked up to Dublin through the snow a couple of times, and managed to spend my birthday in front of trash TV with a take away, which is probably the best way to spend a Wednesday night when you don’t have much cash to throw around. With wine and cake, of course.
Speaking of cash flow, I’ve been lucky enough to snag my old job at Berlitz back for the foreseeable. The employment situation in Dublin is absolutely dire, so that’s much more of a plus than it sounds, and while I’m hardly going to be out slurping champagne on what I earn there (classes are few and far between these days), it’ll make a fantastic back up to what I can scrape together from writing and make life considerably easier. I might even get to go to Germany for a week or two again if I’m lucky…
When not in Dublin, I’ve been down in Ballinrobe with Helena’s mum, working on my more steady writing jobs during the day and wondering around town or sitting by the fire in the evening. Incidentally, on the writing front, I have some amazing stuff coming in at the moment. For the travel, I’ve got an interview with a North Korean defector now living in South Korea and another interview with a guy who spent ten days sitting by a phone box in the middle of nowhere and answering calls directed to him from all around the world by an experimental website, whilst filming the whole thing. For the music, I’ve got two big interviews – Lost Prophets and Gorillaz. The last one isn’t really an interview, as those of you who know Gorillaz will quickly gather, but the concept of writing out questions for a cartoon character tickled me. I’ll post them on the writing website sooner or later, but decided not to clutter the blog with published stuff anymore.
Perhaps the biggest side effect of living with Helena’s mum is crash weight gain. It’s not that she eats unhealthily (quite the opposite, in fact), more the fact that she’s convinced I can eat far more than I actually can. There’s something a little Mrs Doyle like (see Father Ted), which I think comes from the idea that she thinks I’m shy, when actually I’m just full. I end up eating loads. I hope that doesn’t sound ungrateful – it was great of her to put me up and we get on really well. I’m just so full of food it’s unreal! So, this week I’ll be doing a major detox, party out of curiosity (BBC Northern Ireland had a show on recently where they all went a bit strange after three days on detox food and seemed convinced they’d found a higher plain or something), and partly out of the need to get all the rubbish out of my system. No doubt I’ll be blogging on it, too, so until then, from my new place in Dublin,
Love to you all,