Film Festival Frenzy.

Another weekend! I'm perking up! So what if I'm single again; the only way to deal with this is to be positive. And I'm starting a new job tomorrow, so I'll have some €€€

Starting tomorrow night, I'm gonna hit the Film Festival in a big way. Yeah!

Opera Ireland

I got an email from Dublin Tourism today telling me that they've scored me two free tickets to the opera next weekend, in the Gaiety Theatre. Well, that's going to be an interesting experience for me, because it's not the sort of music I usually listen to. I do love the theatre, though, so I am feeling pretty optimistic. Bepe, my housemate, has been a great friend for me over the last few days, as I've been really sad and gloomy, so I thought he might like to come. The thinking was, well, he's Italian, Italians invented opera, obviously he's gonna like that sort of thing.

Sadly, however, he's going to be otherwise occupied. Like, watching football on Sky TV or something. Sigh, he's a lovely guy but he's not the most culturally adventurous.

In other news, my brand-new part time job kicks in this weekend. The lady from the Irish Countrywoman's Association who I met last week hooked me up with a friend of hers who was looking for someone to take care of her kids on Saturdays, as she's opened a new business in town. I met her yesterday, and we're starting on a trial basis.

I may have, ahem, slightly overstated my experience with children. The two girls I mentioned having spent a lot of time with? Actually my sister and me, growing up. But I will do my absolute best and I think it will be OK. They are an 8-year-old girl, and a 6.5-year-old boy, and she wants me to take them to things, like workshops in the museum or events in The Ark. Which will also be good for this blog, I guess. Another good thing, apart from the fact that I will be earning a little money, is that my Saturdays are now going to be very full, which means that it's going to be harder to sit about moping, which is what I'm doing most of the time since the worst weekend I've ever had. Huh. Well, at least the Russian Culture Festival is going on. Tomorrow I am going to see a "series of short informational films" in Meeting House Square in Temple Bar. Which sounds curious. And once again, I love the way the Irish just think "what the heck" and organised outdoors events all year round. It makes sense. Life is too short to worry about the things we can't change.

Blue sky, blue

It's a beautiful, gorgeous spring day and ordinarily I would be hugely happy to walk about Dublin enjoying the sunshine but today it's not helping overmuch. As well as sad I feel incomparably stupid. Like a kid who used to believe in Santa Claus and has just found out that Mom and Dad have been deceiving him all this while. It sucks. I saw Him today, walking across the cobble stones at Trinity College. He's evil, but still beautiful, and I would take him back in a heartbeat. He didn't see me though, because I scurried away and lurked in a doorway pretending to check my texts.

I have decided to go out every night until I feel better. I don't even care if I have to go out alone. There's a film festival on and at least in the dark nobody can see that you've been crying. I know that I look awful. To make matters worse, I haven't stopped eating since the weekend, and it's already starting to show.

This week, there's a Festival of Russian Culture on in Temple Bar, just across the river from my apartment, and I am hoping that it's gonna involve some suitably gloomy Russian art or something. I haven't really checked it out yet, but I have read quite a lot of Russian novels, and I've seen some plays, and if there's one thing the Russian really do with style (and I'm sure there's a lot more than one thing), it's melancholy. I don't care; I am not going to try to cheer up. I'm miserable, and if I have to be miserable I might as well do it properly. I'm going to check out the festival after college today and here's hoping that there will be some soulful movies about love gone wrong and stuff. Because that's what seems to be the flavour of the month around here.


The one good thing is, college is going well and I think I'm really beginning to focus on the idea of doing more research next year. This isn't the best time in the world to find a good "career" job, so I'm thinking a couple more years of study would be not a bad idea.

Worst Weekend Ever

Dublin was alive with colour and spring light and men carrying bouquets of flowers this weekend, and I hated it.

Saturday night, as planned, I met That Guy at Fallon and Byrne's Wine Bar. I was dressed up. I had even, unusually for me, put on a pair of shoes with heels. I'm tall, so I usually don't bother. I gave him his present; Le Fanu's Carmilla, all wrapped up in stupid shiny paper and I note I'd made about le Fanu being one of Ireland's best and most unappreciated writers. You know, I was so excited, because I had been planning this for ages, and I'd hardly seen him over the last couple of weeks, even though we go to the same college.

I feel like such an idiot now.

He opened the book, said, "Uh yeah, thanks." (Uh, yeah, thanks???? I put a load of thought into that!!) and then he goes, "Uh, we gotta talk." And I sat there with the nice wine that I had thought he'd like as he tells me that he's gotten back together with his girlfriend, the mother of his daughter. When? Well, there's a thing. Four weeks ago. FOUR WEEKS AGO! Yes, we've been out in that time. We've been together. And he was already back with her.

I felt as though someone had stuck a knife in my gut, twisted it and then walked away. Laughing. I just got up, pushed the chair back and left. He's sent me a few texts, but I haven't answered them. I went straight home. Saturday night, I felt so bad, I just sat at my table in my room and looked at flights back home. I was seriously thinking maybe I'd just abandon the masters and leave. Then Bepe got back. Fabia hasn't been around since her last trip over, so he was on his own at the weekend too. He knocked on my door to see if I wanted a coffee, and when he saw that I'd been crying (embarrassing; I am not usually a weepy person) he made me take off those stupid high heels ("You look like you're going to fall over") and go out with him for a pint. I told him I was thinking of leaving, and he said not to be stupid, it's not Dublin's fault that I had the bad luck to hook up with such a jerk. He pointed out that things are going well: the course is going well, I've even got a part-time job to start soon (hopefully) and I am thinking of staying on to do more research. It's not worth throwing away all that because of this guy.

But oh, I am so sad. I really liked him. I really like him. And if he rang and said it was all a horrible mistake, I would go straight back. I can't believe that this has happened. Saturday, I was so upset, I didn't even want to sleep in my room, so I crashed out on the sofa in front of some rubbish on the television and woke up feeling even worse, because now I had a hangover, too. Bepe could not have been nicer. He ordered me into the shower, took me for breakfast at a local pub, Smyths on Jervis Street and basically forced me to go out and about with him to check out the Chinese New Year stuff. I did feel better after the breakfast. I guess there's nothing like a plate of greasy, salty food to give you a boost--even if it's not the healthiest start to the day.

It's funny, because I'd have thought that the first person I'd want to call would be a girlfriend, but Bepe was perfect.

I've got to stay busy, because whenever I'm idling I just start thinking about the whole thing and getting so upset. I'm gonna work harder than ever, and I'm going to go out every night until I'm so tired I just fall asleep without thinking. Is this going to make me feel better? I sure hope so, because I can't imagine feeling worse.