Stee-rike!

I went to some batting cages with my friend Paul today. It was slightly scary. I thought it was going to be like hurling, but not so much. In hurling, you get to lob it up nicely for yourself; in baseball it comes hurtling at you. Hurling’s from the wrists, baseball from the shoulders. And hurleys are much lighter than bats. I really sucked at first, but less so as it went on. It was fun once I got into it.

Speaking of strikes … I’m quite fascinated right now by the Writers’ Guild strike, and the stagehands’ strike on Broadway. No shows of any sort for the Americans this Thanksgiving, no sir. Joss Whedon’s blog entry about the former is quite priceless …

My head is aflame with images of writers in ruffled collars, silk pantaloons and ribbons upon their buckled shoes. A towering powdered wig upon David Fury’s head, and Drew Goddard in his yellow stockings (cross-gartered, needless to say). Such popinjays, we!

Lovelovelove Joss.

Had a great weekend – my friends Aisling and Ken were over from Oirland, so I hung out with them mostly. They let me sleep in their spare bed for two nights, which I think will give my spine the strength to survive on an inflatable mattress for another six weeks. We went on a Duck Tour, which reduced me to an excitable eight-year-old. And had gorgeous food and cocktails in the Hard Rock Cafe. Good times!

My new favourite band is Rilo Kiley. (I’m so fickle.) ‘Dreamworld’ from their new album Under the Blacklight is just the danciest, most irresistible song ever. It reminds me of the Stone Roses’ ‘I Wanna Be Adored’ for some reason.

“There’s such a fine line between smart and stupid, isn’t there?”

The weather here is gone a bit mad. Friday was cold; yesterday was sunny; today is horribly grey and wet. I wish it’d pick one and stick to it – sunny, preferably.

My Shakespeare lecturer just likened Hamlet to Jackson Pollack, Kill Bill and This Is Spinal Tap. He’s some kind of genius.

I’m feeling very restless. I want to head off on a trip someplace. Boston is so cozy it’s easy to get settled in and not budge. But I’m 21, have another two months in the US, and God knows when I’ll be back. I should do stuff. My friends went to Salem on Halloween but I couldn’t because of class. I’ll start with that. It’s not too far afield. I’ll start small and work my way up. I have this mad need to start ticking off states.

Saw some good movies this week: 30 Days of Night, which I watched through the cracks between my fingers, and a documentary called King Corn, which almost made me cry. There’s this bit where they explain what happens to cattle when they eat corn, and the conditions they live in … arrgh it’s dreadful! Made me feel quite smug that Irish cattle are still grass-fed by and large, and get to romp around in the open fields. We may have BSE scares but at least they get to romp.

At the moment I’m writing an exercise for tomorrow’s Creative Writing class. We’re meant to write a one-page ‘list’ story, in the style of Tim O’Brien’s The Things They Carried. I went for the most obvious theme – books on a bookshelf. (In which I lovingly describe books – it’s book porn, almost.) I bet at least five other people will have done the same thing.

Halloween

All Hallow’s Eve baby! I’m told I’m going out someplace or other. Not sure I want to. I’ve been out the last good few nights and really I wouldn’t mind just curling up with my Buffy DVDs. I’ve had about six minutes’ sleep the last few nights, because it’s been so cold, and because I leave my homework to the last minute like an eejit. At least I’ll look appropriately frightening I guess.

My parents were here visiting since Friday, they just left today. I think they liked it. We had fun over the few days anyway. They brought me Proper Chocolate and Ali Smith short stories.

Did something very silly today: clomped my foot down in wet cement. My black Converse are a dark shade of grey now. They’ll probably never recover. I’m just back from town. Once again I’ve chosen music over food or clothing. So now I have new Damien Rice, Neutral Milk Hotel and Sinead O’Connor.

Handed up short story #2. An Irish American melodrama this. I got such positive response to the Irishness of my last story that I’m afraid I quite hammed it up this time. Begorrah.

Oh yes, and … YAY RED SOX!!!

Obama is my homeboy

I attended a rally for Moneygall man Barack Obama in Boston Common on Tuesday night. It was pretty huge, and the excitement was tangible. I like him. He talks well, if a little scattered. He’s not afraid to seem too naive or optimistic or liberal or inexperienced. He’s funny and sincere. I didn’t get to shake hands with him, but I got this close:

I love the way Americans respond to speeches. They mutter “damn right!” to themselves and roar “You tell ‘em!” whenever anyone says anything anti-Bush. There were actually some pro-Bush guys there, who were chanting something or other; they didn’t take Obama up on his offer to “come down and join the party” anyway. Oh, and there were freaky religious people at the gates who had banners saying “Turn from your idiots to Jesus before it’s too late!” I had no idea he was running …

He’s a smart man too, knows how to work a crowd. He opened by saying: “Hello Red Sox nation!” [riotious applause] “I am a White Sox fan.” [sympathetic groans] “But I’m a principled sports fan, even when my team is losing.” [more riotous applause]

Speaking of Red Sox … they are leading 1-0 in the World Series. The city is going insane. It says GO SOX in lights on the side of the Prudential Centre. Pretty much everyone is wearing Red Sox hats or t-shirts. Impossible not to get swept up in it.

More pics: NYC trip!

Here’s some photos from the first weekend in October, when Conor and I went to New York for a few days.

Brenead and Conor on the ferry out to Ellis Island.

Liberty enlightening the world, or whatever it is she does.

Conor is not altogether displeased with Times Square.

The nice turquoise, purple, pink and black M&Ms I got in M&M World.

St Patrick’s Cathedral.

Me at the … well, that’s all the clues you’re getting.

At Yoko Ono’s tribute garden to John Lennon in Central Park. Weirdly, it was John Lennon’s birthday the day we were there, and people were gathered for a singsong and to leave little gifts at the Imagine mosaic at the centre.

A Triceratops at the Natural History Museum. I was very into dinosaurs as a kid, knew lots of irrelevant facts about them. I still think they look cool.

Last week was kind of fun. I went to a techno club (not as ear-bleedingly awful as you might think), saw an all-female version of Macbeth on stage (nice to see women playing major Shakespearean tragedy roles that don’t involve going mad or dying), and saw a few movies (Across the Universe, Sleuth and The Darjeeling Limited).

Psychology and Shakespeare midterms tomorrow … God help me. But ooh, Red Sox in the World Series! I shall celebrate like the shameless bandwagon-jumper I am.

Conor and Eileen in Boston

Documenting our epic four-day trail around Boston before Eileen had to go home to build her house etc. Well, only partly documenting, since I forgot my camera half the time.

In the restaurant the first night: They think they’re cool but they’re not.

At the aquarium: Ah bless! You just want to p-p-pick them up …

Myrtle, the octogenarian turtle.

Some class of a seal. She has cataracts, poor dear!

On the dreaded Freedom Trail: It’s the gold-domed building from The Depahted!

The perils of self-photography – sometimes you forget to turn off the zoom. (Also, it’s slightly egotistical.)

Me trying to be all artistic with skewed angles. You can figure out yourself where I am.

Ye olde tour guide. Ah bless him, with his red stockings and his colonial hat.

They think they’re cool but they’re not, part two:

Have at thee! says the guy at Bunker Hill.

The last night: In Whiskey’s pub watching the baseball. Picture kindly taken by our waitress, Jason Varitek.

I’ll post some pictures from me and Conor’s trip to New York soon.

My short story was workshopped in Creative Writing today. Everyone was so damn nice about it. Woo!

It’s oh so quiet …

Conor and Eileen have gone back to Old Mother Oirland. I’m back to Normal Life, which involves doing laundry and sleeping in late. Oh, and spending most of my waking hours catching up on homework in Espresso Royale, with their eclectic soundtrack and delicious vanilla chip muffins and actual furniture.

We had a great few days, though. Finally got to doing all the Boston touristy stuff like the aquarium, the JFK museum, the Freedom Trail (can’t! go! on! much! longer!) and the aforementioned Fenway Park outing. Plus Conor and I went down to Noo Yoik for a few days and met up with Sinead and Brendan (or Brenead, to give them their celebrity couple portmanteau). We went to Ellis Island, Empire State, Hard Rock Cafe, World Financial Centre etc. A grand time was had by all. I’ll post pictures soon.

Oh, and the fabulous sibs brought me stuff, like William Trevor short stories and Plain White Ts CDs and Kenneth Branagh’s Hamlet on DVD, which I’ve been wanting for the last five years. There are lovely special features and a commentary. KB’s impression of John Gielgud is almost as funny as Billy Crystal’s impression of KB.

Think I might go watch the baseball in the Joshua Tree tonight. Game 2 of the Red Sox vs the Cleveland Injuns. I’m so addicted to baseball after so little exposure it’s pathetic. Playing hurling with Conor on Boston Common has spurred me into some kind of athletic restlessness. I want to play sports again. Not much opportunity for hurling here and I’d most likely suck at baseball, so I might give badminton a try. I loved it in school and they provide the rackets (racquets?) so it’s all good.

Ballgame

Was just at Fenway Park; saw the Red Sox beat the LA Angels 4-0. It was great. My first baseball match. Eileen bought a foam finger. We had beer. There was hardly any runs because the pitching was so good. There were Mexican waves and rousing renditions of ‘Take Me Out to the Ballgame’, ‘Dirty Water’ and ‘Sweet Caroline’ (for some reason). It was quite fascinating. I feel a sudden urge to take up softball.

AND. In the amazing Fenway giftshop, they had baseball caps and t-shirts with ‘Stocai Dearga’ written on them. Seriously. Proper fadas and tuiseal guineadach and everything. I bought one for my mam as it was her birthday not too long ago. I bet she’ll use it in an Irish lesson or something.

I feel plagued by mice. There’s some lurking in our oven, apparently, and the bar I was just in – Joe’s – had several scurrying about the floor. Cheeky feckers.

In anticipation of the sibs

Conor and Eileen are coming out on Tuesday. Huzzah!

I went out in Boston for the first time last night, to a place nearby called the Joshua Tree (which was surprisingly lacking in U2 memorabilia). It was pretty fun. I played pool, badly. I’m still milking my birthday so I got a few free drinks, which was nice. Though there was something disturbing at the end of the night – saw a guy who’d been stabbed being loaded into an ambulance.  The wound looked dreadful. I’d never seen anything like that before.

I want a skateboard. At home you have to be an unwashed teenager but here they’re a legitimate mode of transport. It’s both awe-inspiring and annoying to see them weaving past you when you’re powerwalking to 8am class.

I dropped Feature Writing – because I’m a wuss, basically. The workload just seemed too much. We have to write a dissertation for DCU this semester as well, so I don’t want to be swamped. I did write one feature before I left – a profile of a classmate, which we all had to do. One of the girls in the class was telling me that the profile of me was read out at the last class, and the reaction was – who is this bizarre person? I don’t think I interview very well. At least not very flatteringly.

Just noticed my dress has a hole in the front – I knew I’d pay one day for never acquiring sewing skills …

Yeah! New York

I went to NYC from Thursday to Sunday as a 21st birthday treat to myself. Just a quick post – here’s some of the stuff I did …

• Ate New York cheesecake, which tastes of evil.
• Saw Curtains (twice) and Chicago – John Kander will probably live off me for a week.
• Told David Hyde Pierce he’s a genius. (‘Cause I bet he never gets that …)
• Gazed at Ian McKellen and Vanessa Redgrave from a distance, but was too intimidated by their awesomeness to approach.
• Passed Rufus Wainwright on 8th Avenue … I think.
• Went into a pub solely because it was called Robert Emmetts, only to be charged $7 for a bottle of Corona. Patriotism doesn’t pay!
• Tipped a street rapper for ingeniously rhyming Eimear with ‘dreamer’. (Boston Dreamer would have been a much less strange blog title, wouldn’t it?)
• Had a mini crisis because I felt unmoved at Ground Zero.
• Got the ferry out to the Statue of Liberty, but wasn’t allowed up the plinth.
• Went to the top of the Empire State Building after midnight.
• Exercised extreme willpower in the MTV Store, the Apple Store, and M&Ms World.
• Loosely grasped the rules of baseball while watching the Yankees play the Blue … Somethings.

Some pictures … first, the NY Times. So shiny!

Blurry pic of me with DHP. It’s him, I swear.

Terrifying Statue of Liberty guys in Battery Park. They look decidedly X Files to me.

My hamfisted self-photography on the ferry over to the Statue of Liberty.

Statue of Liberty and blimp: two great American icons.

Resisting doing the torch pose.

A sculpture in Battery Park representing immigrant suffering … and a guy in a Spiderman suit. I love America.

Me in Central Park.

Beardy Ian McKellen! In a fedora! Awww …