(no subject)

It's quiet here right now. I've spent the last hour catching up on a few things and updating my real journal. And smoking. Wisdom's asleep behind me, and I'm enjoying some me time. It astonishes me to realize what an entirely solitary creature I've become. It's not that I don't like having him here, it's lovely. In fact, the time is passing far too quickly, and soon he'll have to leave. But that doesn't mean I'm not enjoying this little chunk of nothing.

(no subject)

He's just left... his red tie is still here, along with his giant Hershey's bar and a can of that Sobe energy drink stuff and most of his steak from last night. I wish he hadn't had to go, but it's kinda for the best. We have this inability to keep our hands off one another, and every single muscle in my pelvic area feels as though it's been pounded to a fine paste... with some interesting side effects that I'll just skip talking about. My neck is sore, and I've got a headache which blossomed just as I sank into the hot bathwater. That, and I'm just plain weary. I don't share beds all that well, and got less sleep than usual.

So it's really for the best that he's left. I don't know quite how to be miserable around him yet. That and I can smoke without feeling guilty about it now.

We saw the biggest mallard duck ever today.

He'll get the tie back next time he visits. I think the steak is for dinner, though.

(no subject)

Saint Patrick's Day.

This day, to me, has absolutely nothing to do with religion, nothing at all to do with snakes or the English. But it is the only holiday devoted to Irishness.

I am about as irish as an american girl can be. I've got the dark hair and the big green eyes (most people don't realize that the red hair is more of a norman thing, and was brought to Ireland from the south when they invaded... that's why there are so many redheads in Wexford and Waterford), I have the pride, the notorious fertility, and the temper, God help me.

My mother is Irish times two, with O'Boland on her father's side and O'Keefe on her mother's. My father's name, Drennan, is very Irish, and on his mother's side is Tillry, whilch is either Scottish or Irish. My brother and I studied Gaelic (no, I haven't kept up with my studies... sorry), and followed the news in Ireland via the internet, keeping a specific eye on the north.

This is a day and age in which claiming irish heritage is almost as trendy as claiming Native American heritage, but way more common since nearly every person here can trace some blood back to Ireland. Hell, there are more people with Irish blood in the US than there are in Ireland. Because of this fact, I've been ridiculed because of my own claim to Irish blood. But it's more than just blood to me. It's the way I was raised.

My mother was always adamant about the fact that we were irish, and that was something to be damn proud of. Before her slide into a more severe form of alcoholism, she provided a proud, strong female presence in the household. She was always a fantastic hostess, providing more food than could be eaten. We were all raised with both pride and manners... there was always the impression there from my parents that we were better than most people, and as bad as it sounds, the more I'm out on my own, the more I realize how true it is.

I've never bothered to trace back my ancestors because my blood is more about who I am than it is where I've come from.

I regret that I couldn't provide my standard fare for my friends out there. I'm certain that you all had much more exciting times this year than you would've sitting around stuffing your faces with me anyway. But entertaining, preparing meals for the people I care about... it's just something I do because it makes me feel good. It makes me feel as though I know that for at least one night, you're all smiling, and you've all had a warm meal. Because I care about you, I suppose.

Fleadh Agus Failte, a banquet and a welcome, to all of you.

(no subject)

I want to be beautiful. I want to be one of those delicate creatures who always knows what to say and what to do and always has perfect skin and a brilliant smile. I want to never be bloated or cranky or irrational. I want to never cry until my face is swollen and blotchy. I want my nose to never run and my hair to never tangle. I want to be magic. I want to be able to create beautiful webpages that carry the richness of a family scrapbook and the professionalism of a set of stationary. There's so much in here that is wonderful, and I can never quite get it out right.

Who are you?

(no subject)

You never realize how alone you are until you need answers and you discover that there's nobody who really knows you well enough to give you those answers. Not anymore. When I blunder into unfamiliar territory, nobody knows what steps I'd taken to get there. There's nobody to show me the way back. Nobody to touch my heart and make me feel better.

My face is hot and my hands are cold. I hope it's not a fever. I'm a step away from crying... something I haven't done for months.

(no subject)

This ant crawled onto one of the bulbs on my christmas tree light and made a big and shadow on the wall with wave antennae. It was cool.

I think I need to try to sleep, regardless of my emotional state. I'm out of smokes.