Hanging in there
Sheesh, it's been two weeks since I've posted! Where has all the time gone?
Well, most of my (awake) time has been spent at work. I still like work, which is a minor miracle. I like the driving-commute better than the bus-commute, and haven't had an accident yet (another minor miracle, considering the generally poor driving skills I've encountered). I'm finding the time difference with my Canadian and American colleagues frustrating at times, so I've started leaving a weensy bit earlier, and emailing in the evening. I get less purely work-free time, but I'm far more efficient.
I have spent a small amount of time knitting. Much less time that I would have liked. But I'm well on my way to finishing a beautiful shrug in a jade green bamboo that I bought in Paris. I really, really hope I'll have enough yarn - I asked for extra, but the girl gave a Gallic shrug as a response, which at the time I took to mean "oh, okay then", but which may, actually, have been "no, you won't need it". I think I *do* need it, so here's hoping...
The funniest bit of knitting the shrug was translating the pattern. No wait - it was watching myself knit it faster and faster as the ball of yarn dwindled into almost nothing. It was as if I might magically have more yarn if I knit fast enough. (Translating the pattern was pretty entertaining too, I realised that I remembered a lot more 5th-form French than I credited myself with.)
I've been reading a little, but not enough. I'm often too tired to do much other than slump in a chair in front of the tv and eat what David gives me. Tonight's blog post comes courtesy of our currently tv-free state in our new apartment - otherwise I'd be slumped and incommunicative.
Speaking of which, the move has happened. All that remains is for us to clean the old place and fight to get our deposit back. The new place is large, airy, light, and much more like what we're used to. It's not large-large, but it feels much larger than the old place, even if it's probably just the same size. Plus, we have an under-the-stairs cupboard, aka the Harry Potter cupboard.
(And no, I haven't read the new Harry yet - I'm trying not to buy a non-matching book for my set of paperbacks. So that's a 6-month wait... Someone did very kindly offer to lend me their copy though, and I'll certainly take the offer up once they're done.)
I've spent a fair bit of time talking about the weather. Ireland is having it's coldest, rainiest winter yet, apparently. I'm not entirely convinced that people aren't conspiring to lie to us till we're too entrenched here to leave. But it rains every day, and for a fair bit. Plus it isn't hot. So no summer for us this year. I'm beginning to think that the Ireland-and-green association is not only due to the trees, grass, etc. - but also to mould from such a damp climate...
Amidst all the hustle and bustle of our busy lives, it's almost my birthday again. I'll be 29. As in, 30 on my next birthday. Now, I know loads of people who have turned 30 or more, and they're all fine. I truly believe that my 30s will probably be even better than my 20s. Yet I still feel like I'm playing at being a grown-up. I find myself saying and doing things like my parents (hi, parentals!), I like early nights, and I complain about noisy, inconsiderate people. It's like I've gone straight from 20-something to a pensioner.
Oh, and David teases me that I'm the fun police.
Anyway, as the big 2-9 approaches, I ponder the usual questions, plus a few new, fun ones:
- Can I nip down and buy some booze right now, or do I need to find some photo ID?
- Do I still look about 18 when I wear jeans and a hoodie, or do I now look like a mid-20-something?
- Why do I always want yarn that is impossible to buy in, or get shipped to, where I live? I mean really, I have relatively pedestrian tastes, and I could understand NZ - but this is EUROPE, people! Not continental Europe, but Europe all the same!
- Now that we live in a 1-bedroom place, what's to bet that *everyone* will want to visit us? (Luckily for you, there's a nice and cheap hotel 2 doors down - or you can bring a tent and camp on the roof terrace if you don't mind the rain!)
- Are the 30s really the new 20s?
- When I turn 30, do I have to start buying swishier clothes and shoes?
- When are you really supposed to start with the eye cream?
- Will living in such a sunless country (seriously, people, the rain and rain and RAIN!) undo some of the sun damage that NZ wrought in my skin? If I spend 5 years here, will I cease to age for those years?
- What do I really want for my birthday, anyway? (Damned if I know, it's a tough one. Answers to my questions would be useful.)
Oooooooooh! One little brag before I finish. In November we're going to Pisa and Florence. Our flights cost us 90 euros altogether. Which is stupidly cheap. Plus, it's Italy. All we'll need is a pair of elastic-waist trackpants each, and an empty suitcase for all the wine we'll bring back. Oh, and a week to sleep all the pasta off :-)
And with that verrrrrrry long post, I'm off to read a bit of my book, and hope that David will bring me my post-yoga (his yoga, but anyhow) kebab soon. No Britain's Next Top Model tonight (no tv, ergo no tv shows - did I mention how much I miss having tv yet?) - might try catching up on some sleep instead.
Well, most of my (awake) time has been spent at work. I still like work, which is a minor miracle. I like the driving-commute better than the bus-commute, and haven't had an accident yet (another minor miracle, considering the generally poor driving skills I've encountered). I'm finding the time difference with my Canadian and American colleagues frustrating at times, so I've started leaving a weensy bit earlier, and emailing in the evening. I get less purely work-free time, but I'm far more efficient.
I have spent a small amount of time knitting. Much less time that I would have liked. But I'm well on my way to finishing a beautiful shrug in a jade green bamboo that I bought in Paris. I really, really hope I'll have enough yarn - I asked for extra, but the girl gave a Gallic shrug as a response, which at the time I took to mean "oh, okay then", but which may, actually, have been "no, you won't need it". I think I *do* need it, so here's hoping...
The funniest bit of knitting the shrug was translating the pattern. No wait - it was watching myself knit it faster and faster as the ball of yarn dwindled into almost nothing. It was as if I might magically have more yarn if I knit fast enough. (Translating the pattern was pretty entertaining too, I realised that I remembered a lot more 5th-form French than I credited myself with.)
I've been reading a little, but not enough. I'm often too tired to do much other than slump in a chair in front of the tv and eat what David gives me. Tonight's blog post comes courtesy of our currently tv-free state in our new apartment - otherwise I'd be slumped and incommunicative.
Speaking of which, the move has happened. All that remains is for us to clean the old place and fight to get our deposit back. The new place is large, airy, light, and much more like what we're used to. It's not large-large, but it feels much larger than the old place, even if it's probably just the same size. Plus, we have an under-the-stairs cupboard, aka the Harry Potter cupboard.
(And no, I haven't read the new Harry yet - I'm trying not to buy a non-matching book for my set of paperbacks. So that's a 6-month wait... Someone did very kindly offer to lend me their copy though, and I'll certainly take the offer up once they're done.)
I've spent a fair bit of time talking about the weather. Ireland is having it's coldest, rainiest winter yet, apparently. I'm not entirely convinced that people aren't conspiring to lie to us till we're too entrenched here to leave. But it rains every day, and for a fair bit. Plus it isn't hot. So no summer for us this year. I'm beginning to think that the Ireland-and-green association is not only due to the trees, grass, etc. - but also to mould from such a damp climate...
Amidst all the hustle and bustle of our busy lives, it's almost my birthday again. I'll be 29. As in, 30 on my next birthday. Now, I know loads of people who have turned 30 or more, and they're all fine. I truly believe that my 30s will probably be even better than my 20s. Yet I still feel like I'm playing at being a grown-up. I find myself saying and doing things like my parents (hi, parentals!), I like early nights, and I complain about noisy, inconsiderate people. It's like I've gone straight from 20-something to a pensioner.
Oh, and David teases me that I'm the fun police.
Anyway, as the big 2-9 approaches, I ponder the usual questions, plus a few new, fun ones:
- Can I nip down and buy some booze right now, or do I need to find some photo ID?
- Do I still look about 18 when I wear jeans and a hoodie, or do I now look like a mid-20-something?
- Why do I always want yarn that is impossible to buy in, or get shipped to, where I live? I mean really, I have relatively pedestrian tastes, and I could understand NZ - but this is EUROPE, people! Not continental Europe, but Europe all the same!
- Now that we live in a 1-bedroom place, what's to bet that *everyone* will want to visit us? (Luckily for you, there's a nice and cheap hotel 2 doors down - or you can bring a tent and camp on the roof terrace if you don't mind the rain!)
- Are the 30s really the new 20s?
- When I turn 30, do I have to start buying swishier clothes and shoes?
- When are you really supposed to start with the eye cream?
- Will living in such a sunless country (seriously, people, the rain and rain and RAIN!) undo some of the sun damage that NZ wrought in my skin? If I spend 5 years here, will I cease to age for those years?
- What do I really want for my birthday, anyway? (Damned if I know, it's a tough one. Answers to my questions would be useful.)
Oooooooooh! One little brag before I finish. In November we're going to Pisa and Florence. Our flights cost us 90 euros altogether. Which is stupidly cheap. Plus, it's Italy. All we'll need is a pair of elastic-waist trackpants each, and an empty suitcase for all the wine we'll bring back. Oh, and a week to sleep all the pasta off :-)
And with that verrrrrrry long post, I'm off to read a bit of my book, and hope that David will bring me my post-yoga (his yoga, but anyhow) kebab soon. No Britain's Next Top Model tonight (no tv, ergo no tv shows - did I mention how much I miss having tv yet?) - might try catching up on some sleep instead.
What rain? It was a warm sunny day. Barely a cloud in the sky. Town was full of people enjoying a mild evening and it was quite stifling in my yoga glass.
OKay, a couple of comments.
a) i know that it has been feeling like winter, but its actually summer here in Ireland (I'm assuming that you didnt notice that you said that ireland is having its coldest rainiest winter ever bit...)
b) I seem to recall the first time we sat out in the Dublin Castle gardens a comment that you made about the great sun we were having and that you didnt believe that it rained as much as we said it did....we were having a stretch of sun at the time.....believe it now??
c) Your 30's are better than your 20's, believe me! you become more confident in yourself, your body and get to the stage where you dont really give a shit what people think about you
d) eyecream is optional.
e) what about a wii.....give you more time in front of the box! and out of that rain (dont believe the sun thats outdoors at the moment...it will only last until this evening...)
People kept telling me my 30s would be better than my 20s, but I'm not believing it yet!
But it's not worse than my 20s. Yet.