• so that happened

    The Best Things Come in Small Packages

    I have an unfortunate bedtime habit. It takes me what feels like twelve thousand years to get to sleep, and I would rather have my skin peeled from me in strips than lie in the dark with my thoughts, so instead I have a habit of propping my phone on its side and scrolling mindlessly through r/politics or the Aliexpress app on my phone until I fall asleep, one fingertip still pressed to the screen. (You might be able to guess where I’m going with this…) On more than one occasion I have woken up having purchased some truly ridiculous items are not in any way necessary to my life:…

  • so that happened

    Toast Seems to be The Hardest Word

    I look at the brunch menu in my hand as if it is written in Sanskrit. What is ‘endive’?  Why ‘avocado bruschetta’ and not just regular bruschetta? Why a ‘3-egg omelette’? Who needs three eggs in the morning? Isn’t that awfully inflexible? What happened to poached eggs and toast? I flip the menu over and finally find what I was looking for; namely scrambled eggs on toast, goujons, french toast, and bacon butties. They are clustered together in a section marked disdainfully as only for ‘Under 12’s’. Ridiculous, I think, flapping the menu in distress. Are omelettes now considered more mature than scrambled eggs? Does the way you like your…

  • Communication,  so that happened

    Hello

    I carried a towering pile of items to the till and placed them on the belt. “Hi!” said the cashier. The friendly chirpiness in her voice was probably due to the fact that it was almost closing time, but that’s just a guess. I smiled and returned the greeting, and then focused all of my limited attention on placing the heavy items at the front of the pile so I could bag them the proper way. Little known fact, but that’s actually what adulting is all about; trying not to smoosh the brie beneath tins of tomatoes. True fact. The cashier made a comment about the weather, and my friend…

  • so that happened

    Questionable Decisions

    The delivery man called me a few minutes after ten o’clock. “I’m on my way to ye now!” He said, his voice bubbling with confidence. “How do I find ye?” I spun slowly on one foot, chewing my lip as I considered my geographical ignorance. “It’s just…. through the village?” I said, my voice lilting upward at the end because I sincerely hadn’t a clue. Frantically I attempted to chart the course in my mind, but it was just a hodgepodge of picture-book images in there; the post office, the church, the water pump. Was the church before or after the post office? Where was the water pump in relation…

  • so that happened,  Thoughts on...

    One Stranger, Two Viewpoints, Three Drinks

      I had a pretty interesting but slightly infuriating conversation over the weekend. It wasn’t really that infuriating at the time, because I had already had two vodka & cranberries and at that stage I’m content to slip easily into the role of Devil’s Advocate on any given subject. I don’t know about you, but I’m a happy drinker. After a drink, I just want to do two things: talk and dance. I don’t much mind where you want to take the conversation, I’m happy for you to take the lead as long as I have a white russian in hand. Unfortunately at the weekend I didn’t have a white…

  • personal,  Thoughts on...

    It’s Okay To Not Be Okay

    I don’t know if this post is for you. Maybe. I guess you won’t know either until you’re halfway through it. If it’s not for you, that just means it’s not for you today. It still might be for you three weeks from now, or next Summer. At some point, I think this post will be relevant to your life. Unfortunately. Even though it’s Monday, and I would have preferred to start the week with something lighthearted, I sat down to type and this poured out instead in a wave of emotion, so here we are. I want to talk about unhappiness. This is not an overt unhappiness with people crying…

  • Thoughts on...

    Being a Bit of Both

    “Where are you from?” “Here.” “Where?” “Here. Dublin.” “No, but where are you really from?” “Dublin. I’m Irish.” “But where were you born?” “The Coombe. In Dublin.” “Okay but where are your parents from?” “My father’s Irish and my mother’s Spanish.” “I KNEW it!” I’ve had this conversation a truly astonishing number of times. Most of the time I save time and energy by answering the first “Where are you from?” with the answer to the question I know they will get to eventually. I know why they’re asking, and I know how to stem the conversational tide. A simple “My mother is Spanish” tends to trim the conversation nice…

  • so that happened

    Falling Half in Love with Strangers

    I love being able to express myself in writing. It feels more accurate somehow than speaking words. Talking for me can sometimes feel like playing tennis with a colander; I mean, it’s possible, I can do it, but it’s not ideal. The ball goes over the net, but just about. It goes where I want it to go… more or less. I can’t be sure it’ll hit it’s mark, but I can hope. Later, I’ll go home and think about how I could have done it some other, better way. Writing is different. Writing is a tennis racket. When I’m writing, I have the time to think about what I’m trying…

  • Uncategorized

    Chasing UFOs at Chichibu National Park, Japan

    I had been in Japan only a few days when my brother suggested visiting Chichibu. “It’s beautiful,” he said. “You’ll love it!” I was happy to go along with his suggestion, seeing as he 1.) is my brother and b.) was living in Japan at the time, so I cheerfully agreed, and the following morning I found myself on a little bus destined for Chichibu National Park. This post isn’t really about the national park, however. As we wandered up the hill from the entrance, I munched on my matcha-flavoured pocky sticks and looked around me. It was a sunny day and my brother was right, the park was beautiful.…