Golden Hot Pants

The Freshers ball was class. We didn't go near the gig tent which I'm annoyed at myself about, because if there's one thing I want to get involved in it's local gigs. It was put on by Banquet Records too so I'm sure the bands would have been good. The Foam party was pretty cool but we didn't spend long in there. The Silent Disco was hilarious fun. It's amazing looking at everyone dancing around and singing to nothing!
It ended at around midnight so we moved on to a bar called McCluskys. We were actually there the night before. We had met some people on the way there. Two girls who were Irish (which is how we got talking) and then some other people. We hung out in McCluskys all night, and I ended up kissing one of the girls we were with. I can't remember a lot (Freshers drinks cost fuck all) but it was really great, and so is she. So I saw her again at the Freshers ball, but I guess we're both the nervous, shy type so we didn't really talk...or see each other at all for the whole night. Oh well. I got quite drunk anyway, and I was on a mission to kiss another girl. I talked to loads of girls but never really got anywhere. I guess I was that bit too drunk, where girls will humour you, but want nothing to do with you really. I was talking to one girl though, and then she whispered something to her friend, who whispered something else to her boyfriend, who came over to me and asked me to go back to his house with them. Apparently she was in to me. I had no clue what to say. Quicly enough, I assessed the situation and realised that if I did go back to yer mans house, I'd be parting from my group which included my brother and his girlfriend, and my two cousins. When I wanted to go home from his house, I'd have been by myself and wouldn't be sure where I was going. Plus, these people could have been anyone. I could have been their target for a gangraping or something. I told him that I really couldn't leave my friends so I'd pass it up. The girl didn't talk to me again after that so I think she may have been looking for a ride or something. Kind of annoyed at myself for saying no, but it's def for the best anyway.
After McCluskys we hung around the town a bit, messing with a trolley and annoying some girls and then trying to get punched from this guy who really didnt want to. I'm a dope when I'm drunk. I have pictures up here.

I've been feeling great lately. Getting on with life and meeting loads of new people. I'm even listening to loads of new music (new to me, anyway) and it's making me really happy. I've decided that I'm definitely a relationship person, so that's what I'm aiming for. Not quite yet, but I'm not the sort of person that would sleep with a different girl every week (although that would be cool). I don't know. I'm just 'discovering' myself. Blah.

Yo.

College and other stories

The first few days of college have been great. I've enjoyed all the meetings and I've got some of my books already. Kurt Vonnegut is on the course which I'm excited about because I was meaning to read his stuff. We're gonna read Slaughterhouse 5, it sounds deadly. We're also reading Hemmingway, Robert Louis Stevenson, Charlotte Bronte and then someone else I can't remember. Creative Writing is class too. Tom my brother is in that class too, which is gonna be fun!

I know that England are a bit mad for the surveillance, but I was totally shocked the other day when I saw one of these fuckers driving around:

That's right; it's a car with a CCTV camera attached to the roof. Fucking hell.

I woke up the other morning to the sound of an alarm. Not an alarm clock, this was like a burglar alarm. I got up in a daze and found my Mam in the hall going 'What is that??". We couldn't figure out what set it off but eventually we turned it off. It was really bizarre. We went about our normal morning routines until I heard sirens blaring outside. I had a look out the window and saw a fire truck outside, and firemen coming into the garden. It was the fucking Smoke alarm, not the burglar alarm! The Fireman bashed on the door really heavily and I opened it.
'You're Smoke alarm's been off!' he said.
'I know, it went off by accident' I told him.
'We'll have to come in and have a look'.
Two big Fire lads came in and had a look at the smoke alarms and the control panel for the alarm system. Apparently our Smoke alarm and Burglar alarm are the controlled from the same panel and are run from the mains, with a backup battery pack in case of a blackout. It just so happened there had been a blackout the night before. The Fire fellas seemed to think that had something to do with it, but my Mam thinks it may have been the steam from her shower. If steam can set off SMOKE alarms. Anyway, they told us to ring up British Gas and ask them to reset our alarm, which we did. That's the boring conclusion to the story.

Me and Will went out on Monday for Freshers week. It was a hat party in the Students Bar. When we got there we realised that it was strictly only students allowed in. Luckily, Will managed to blag his way in, with me talking for him in parts. When Will told the bouncer that he was living at home rather than in Halls, he couldn't believe him. He said it was 'weird', as if no one did it. Dope.
The Hat party was only alright. I didn't get to talk to anyone really, except for a few people that Will happened to know. We ended up staying with them all night and moved on to another bar. It was a really nice bar that played pretty good music, but it only had one toilet each for guys and girls. Not even a fucking urinal. So the queue was huge.
Then I eneded up waiting about half an hour to get served a drink because the cunt barman totally ignored me. Then when I did get served, I learned that most places in England don't have Miller on tap, which sucked. So I settled for Carlsberg. I got two pints because I was fucked if I was going to try to get served again. The bar was closing soon anyway. I drank them much too fast, but luckily didn't get very drunk at all. When the bar shut, we decided to go to a club called Oceana, but when we got there the queue to get in was HUGE. Like it would have been at least an hours wait. Me and Will said 'fuck it', got some Subway (the veggie patty is gorgeous) and got the 24 hour bus home.

That's all for now!

C-Wrist.

English Cops? Naaaah.

I'm in Farnham today, hanging out with Will. We went to a park with some of his mates and we were drinking in broad daylight, among parents with their kids and opposite a police station.

No one cared.

I'm amazed.

Kingston...

...is fucking AWESOME! It's such a great little town. It has everything and more, that more being Banquet Records. It's one of the best music shops I've ever been in, just as good as Rasputin or Amoeba Records in America. I picked up Campfire Punk Rock by Frank Turner and See You In Another City by Blakfish. I'm gonna go back in on Monday and get some more stuff!
Kingston has a class music scene, so I'm gonna try my best to get involved in it. I'm definitely gonna start a band over here. I was thinking a straight up pop punk band, because I can see it being lots of fun and pop punk songs are much easier to write than the kind of stuff we're doing in Rubes or Vicious Dig. We'll see what happens anyway.

The University itself is really nice. The building I'm in is new, so everythings all state of the art and shit. I got my timetable, and I'm in every day, but for never more than like, 3 hours. It's class.
Most of my tutors are women aswell, which is grand. One of them has to be a lash. Please.

The Freshers Ball sounds amazing too. There's gonna be a foam party and a silent disco! I haven't been to a foam party since I was like 12, and I've never been to a silent disco.
It's taking too long to get here! I'm sick of sitting here at home being totally bored where the highlight of my day is an alright wank. Fuck it.

More later.

Starting College

I have to go register tomorrow...wooh! I get my student ID and a 'pack' whatever that means.
Then I start officially on Monday, although the whole week is just an 'introductory' week, meaning we'll meet our lecturers and shit, and then just have the buzz later on! I can't wait for Freshers week. It's gonna be class. A chance to make some friends and meet loads of people.
I think there's a few gigs happening aswell which will be class. I'd love to start a new band over here. I think Strung out are playing in October somewhere near here, I'm gonna ask a few of the lads to stall over and we'll have the fucking fun.

I know that I said I'd stop talking about this but I dreamt about her again last night. I didn't feel so bad waking up this time, though. I think it's because I have a little crush going. It's nothing really, it's a girl I know who's even FURTHER from fucking Ireland, so nothing is really gonna happen. It's just nice to have these feelings again. I met her when she was in Ireland a while ago, it was actually just after me and my ex had split up. She's really cool and really pretty. Hopefully I'll see her again because she says she wants to come back to Ireland, so I hope I'll be there too!

Anyway, I've been doing nothing these last few days. Since I got back from Spain, it's just been: Wake up late - eat breakfast, take vitamins - watch TV - stay on internet the rest of the day - have dinner - take Dog for a piss - read a bit - go to bed.
Although the other day I went in to Wimbledon town. It's really cool. It has all the major shops and it's just a ten minute walk away from my flat, so it's super handy. I don't know about it's night life yet, I saw a few pubs but no clubs or anything. I think Kingston or Putney has loads of that stuff though and they're not too far away I think.
I got an Oyster card, which is just a handy and cheap way of using the Bus or Underground. If you get an Oyster card, prices are pretty much halved for Transport. London transport can be so fucking expensive so it's class for saving a bit of much needed cash.

I've been downloading loads of music lately, just because I have my own laptop now and the connection speeds here are unbelievable. I got two albums by a band called Osker, just on a whim because I'd heard of them through a forum called Moshspace. They're definitely my favourite band now. They play really simple pop punk, but it's so catchy and the lyrics are incredible. I've been using their lyrics everywhere...check them out.

I think that's enough for now.
G'bye!

FUCK FONTS

Ok I fucked up the fonts somehow in the last one. Fuck this blogger piece of shit, it's so annoying.

Back To The Front

I felt good yesterday. I was thinking about a girl. I was feeling better. Then I fell asleep.
I don't quite remember where the dream took place. It kept changing; one minute it was a pub, then it was a Diner. At first, in the pub, I was with my ex. We were kissing and hugging, which was reminiscent of a time I saw her before I left for London. We were getting back together in the dream. Of course I didn't realise this was a dream, so I was super happy. Anyway, the rest of the dream isn't important. I woke up.
Now I feel like I'm back to the fucking start. How the hell am I supposed to get over this if my own sub-concsience can't even forget about her?
I don't usually believe in dream interpretations, but I looked mine up anyway:

"To dream about your ex-boyfriend/girlfriend or ex-husband/wife or that you and your ex got back together again, suggests that something or someone in your current life that is bringing out similar feelings you felt during the relationship with your ex. The dream may be a way of alerting you to the same or similar behavior in a current relationship. What you learn from that previous relationship may need to be applied to the present one so that you do no repeat the same mistake. Alternatively, past lovers often highlight the positive experiences you had with that person. "

Most of that doesn't seem to apply. I had mentioned that I was thinking about a girl, earlier. However, sometimes I feel like I'm forcing myself to think about her in an attempt to forget my ex, because when I really think about, I have no feelings for her. I really wish I did, but I don't.
I guess the last sentence makes some sense. We had some amazing times, and every time I talk to another girl, I always try to imagine having the same experiences with them but it never works.
I've never been so confused. I should really stop talking about this so much. Ok. Finish.

This Is My Goodbye

I can't live the same heartbreak every day.
It's there; in the pictures, the stories, the tainted memories.
It hurts to see your life without me, so I'll have to close my eyes
And wave to you goodbye.

This is not the end, but it's no beginning.
You'll live with me 'til the day I die.
I just can't see you if I'm not there too
So for now, this is my goodbye.

Getting Over It

Ugh......this sucks. I've been trying so hard to get over my ex-girlfriend, but everything reminds me of her. I keep hearing her favourite bands everywhere, seeing her favourite films and anything that meant something to both of us keeps popping up somewhere. All my passwords for things have something to do with her. I know I should change them but that's such a pain in the hole.
She's doing fine, I think. Out having fun with new friends, already meeting new guys and I'm stuck. I can't stop thinking about her, as much as I try. Everything I write on sites like Bebo and MySpace are just cries, that I'm hoping she will hear. I'm even hoping right now that she reads this. I'v put up links everywhere, hoping she looks.
I'm totally selfish. Here she is getting on with her life, making the best of what was a bad situation, and all I want is for her to want me.
I can't imagine having another relationship anything like the one we had. It was fun, happy, exciting, sexy, comfortable and....everything else. She saved me. I could have ended up a depressive recluse and at one point came very close, but she saved me.
I know eventually I will get over this. I will find someone else and be happy, like her. I'll never forgive myself, however, for what I've thrown away and potentially destroyed forever. It could have been so much more than what it was, everything that the two of us could ever want.
It would have been fun.
It would have been happy.
It would have been exciting.
It would have been sexy.
It would have been comfortable.

It would have been.

A Pair of Interested Ears

I just got back last night from spending five days in Spain with my cousin, Will. He's been one of my best friends for years, and we had a blast. His parents have a house in a place called Cambrils. It's right beside the tourist area of Salou, but it has virtually no tourists so it's really relaxed and just a great place to be.
We divided each day between soakin' up cosmic rays during the day, and drinking a lot of beers during the evenings. The first night we were there we went to a bar on the beach that was just across from our usual beach. Will has a fair bit more Spanish than I do so he tried to order some beers from the barman. He stumbled through an order but the barman seemed to understand him well enough. Will then asked me a question in English which the barman heard, and he said "You guys speak English?! Guys, come on! Everyone speaks English here".
"Oh, we know, I was just trying to get better at my Spanish..." Will sheepishly replied.
The Barman told us his name was Mauri and that he was from the Dominican Republic. He was a super cool guy. He had an amazing level of English and was able to converse with us comfortably, which he did almost every night we were there.
That first night, we got quite drunk and started up chats with everyone around us. We got to know this German couple and a lad from Luxembourg. We couldn't ever remember any of their names, which is totally rude I know, but we were super drunk. Well, I was. After talking to 'Lad' from Luxembourg (which is what we christened him), he told us he had some weed. I never really smoke weed or do any sort of drugs at all, but being drunk, I got really excited and smoked a lot with him. It was a terrible idea. Or terrible weed. I found myself sitting with a group of German kids for about an hour while they chatted in German. I just sat there saying nothing, staring blankly. Eventually I realised how thick I looked and went back to the bar to find Will.
Unfortunately that night, Mauri only had half pint plastic glasses to offer us. When we said we'd really love a pint, he decided to give us a two litre jug of beer for the price of a pint. Being the intelligent consumers, we took full advantage of this offer. Four times. I hadn't been that drunk in a good few months, and eventually of course, I needed to get sick. According to Will, I was adamant that I wanted to get sick into the sea, and not on the sand. Apparently my reason was that 'kids be playin' on that n' shit'. I got thunderously sick into the sea, and then we went home.

The next morning I woke up with a crash. The steel pot Will had placed beside my head, in case I got sick, fell to the floor with a horrible loud noise. I had an awful hangover. My head wasn't so bad, but my stomach felt like a few rats had a shit party in it. In an attempt to get my blood sugar levels up, I tried to force down a cereal. I had about two soggy spoonfuls and couldn't manage anymore. I had a glass of apple juice which went down ok, and then about two spoons of a strawberry yoghurt. I sat back and admitted defeat. I just could not eat anything. Will gave me a bottle of water which I wolfed down. Then I felt that old feeling. I ran to the toilet and got sick again. Only when I had finished, I felt amazing. I could eat the full yoghurt!

We did this for a few days, and then on Saturday we went into Salou for a night on the 'tiles', except there was mostly pavement. I still don't get that phrase.
We got a taxi there, and as soon as we stepped out, some lad from an Irish pub cringingly called 'Danny Boys' came up to us and desperately tried to get us to go inside. He was from Northern Ireland and said things like "Free shots with your first drink! A live band playing great hits from bands like Snow Patrol and Oasis! You love them, right!". In spite of his off-putting enthusiasm, we went in for one drink. There were too many Iirsh people inside. Who the fuck goes on Holiday to be with the people they were trying to get away from in the first place? Irish people, apparently. We drank up quick and moved on. We went into various clubs which were all the same really, until we ended up in a club called Kiss. The whole place was shaped like a pair of lips, with the bar in the middle. It was kind of small but it was great. There were a lot of Irish and British people in there though, but I suppose that's what Salou is made up of. We got talking to a good few people and started having a great time. We met this English lad called Henry at the bar and he was a bit sleazy, going around feeling up girls. One girl he tried to feel up turned out to be Irish, and I got talking to her. Well, very limited talk since it was very loud. We started dancing anyway and things got very close. She took me outside where we talked a bit more and started kissing. It was great. Having just gotten out of a serious relationship a few weeks previous, it was so liberating and uplifting just to be with someone again. We stayed outside for a while getting to know each other and kissing aswell.
At one point we heard a bit of commosion going on from the door of the club. Two lads were knocking the shit out each other. After a minute or two I realised one of them was a bouncer. Another bouncer came along to help, and they both threw this guy straight into a wall. He tried to get up, but stumbled and fell. He had blood on his face. The bouncers just stood there with their arms folded. The guy's friend stood face to face with the bouncer, screaming at him that she was going to call the police, but the bouncer didn't budge. It's weird how they can do that, but I guess it's their job. This guy was obviously causing trouble, he looked like he was seriosuly drunk.
After that, we went back inside for some more dancing. We were together for ages, and it was amazing to have that closeness back again. I knew it wouldn't lead to anything serious and I wasn't even looking for that, but it made me so happy.
Will came and found me. He said he'd been with at least six different girls while trying to find me. I didn't doubt it, I'd seen him do similiar things myself. He was with two girls at the time, and they wanted to go to another bar. The girl I was with wanted to stay with her friends. It was just a fling, so we said our goodbyes and I left.
Will, two girls (who turned out to be Irish aswell) and I went to another bar called Snoopys. It turned out that one of the girls was actually a barmaid around Salou, so we got into the VIP area. It sucked. It was so boring and we were probably the most Important People there. We stayed for fifteen minutes before they wanted to go back to Kiss. I got a bit shifty. I thought that if the first girl I was with saw me come back with two other girls she might slap me or something. When we got back, I saw her with another guy. I was relieved. I'm still in a relationship frame of mind, so it still feels like I'll get in trouble if I'm with another girl. Although she was with someone else, I still tried to avoid her, because I had told her I was going home...
It was a great night in the end. I needed something exactly like that to help me get over my ex-girlfriend and it made me feel great. The whole holiday, even though it was just five days, was so relaxing and helped clear my head. I had been slightly depressed before I went but I was feeling great now. We spent our last night hanging out with Mauri on his beach bar and we exchanged emails and the like. Our last morning was spent on the beach, diving off rocks and trying to get some colour into my pasty Irish skin.

We got back to London that evening, had some pizza and went to bed. We spent a good eight hours traveling, due to using the remote airports Reus and London Luton. I hate English trains already.

Holidays are class. It felt weird coming 'home' to London though. I'm still not used to it. It made me sad not to be in Dublin. I'm still homesick, but I'm sure when college starts I'll get over it.
New people will never replace the old ones, but it'll be nice to make some friends. London will never be my home, but it will be a nice three-year holiday.

Chris

And now, we proudly present...

London.

I guess this is the start of my new life. What's strange is I haven't totally left the old one behind, so whatever I turn into will be a hybrid of the old me, and the new me; everything in between. This will be the story of how that happens. For now, sleep.

Chris.