Strange Days

All throughout Sunday and Monday, I had a period of silence; I texted whomever texted me, and with the exception of a couple of texts on Monday, that was it. I didn't talk to anyone until they talked to me. This does make for a lonely time, of course, until someone says something to you. I was fortunate that on Sunday, I got a text from the lovely Miley Cyrus, and for seven hours we kept a conversation going about friends and stuff like that. At the same time, I was reading The Thin Executioner (review). It kept me going through the day. It was actually a pretty good day, after that. I remember going to bed happy.

The next day, I wasn't so happy. Having discovered I wouldn't be seeing a friend, whom I haven't seen in about three and a half weeks and hadn't heard from in a few days, either, I got myself a bit down. I didn't text anyone, then. I stopped replying to Miley to stop myself moaning to her the entire day and getting her down. Paper Towns (review) arrived at twelve. I read that, to keep me going. I got through the entire thing that day, in between a couple of texts to see what, exactly, I might be able to arrange with the ever-distant friend. In short: nothing. He didn't reply. I sent him a long, bitchy email about it. I finished Paper Towns, texted him again.

Three things: one, sorry for being such an arse earlier. Two, I've sent you an email that I still don't really understand but I know I still want you read. Three, I read the most amazing novel ever today, and I think I understand things a whole lot better now

I didn't get a reply, and I didn't expect one. I went to bed thinking about hunting down paper towns.

I awoke at three in the morning. I was tired. Very tired. Three hours sleep. That was all I'd gotten. I was awake until six, thinking about something. Just thinking and planning. Like Margo Roth Spiegelman. I love Margo Roth Spiegelman. So I planned, like Margo, to go somewhere. I knew my itinerary, once I knew when I was having dinner; I left my house early in the morning..ish. I got a quarter past eleven train with an Eason bag in my hand, containing a not-birthday present and a brown envelope filled with the necessary explanations of crazy, and my novella.

I walked to his workplace; I had my plan, but I didn't have a car to speed things up. I hurried around the industrial estate, looking desperately for where he worked so I could hurry back to the city centre for lunch. I eventually asked a man at a taxi place - because taxi drivers know where everything is - and found the place. Closed. Yeah, they'd just moved a few days ago.

That was it, I thought. I'd come all that way for nothing. Except... "Are you looking for [insert name of company here]?" It was one of the employees. He had the van behind him. He had a pony tail and a friendly face, and he explained that they'd moved, and where they'd moved to, and asked did I know how to get there. No, I told him. I didn't say I'd gotten the train, that I couldn't drive, and that I was in a big hurry. He gave me directions. I was still a little lost. Eventually, I just asked if he could deliver the Eason bag.

And he did. He took it from me and drove off. Sorted. I walked to the train station again. There was nobody else there. No staff, no commuters. It was silent. There was no info on when the next train was coming. I was in the middle of nowhere, the only back arse of Dublin, and I had no way of getting home. No one but Miley Cyrus and Pony-Tail Man knew I was in the area.

I waited. What else could do? I just waited, and waited, and waited. Eventually the train came. I was already late for lunch. I had already deferred the question of where I was and how long I'd be. I had no idea how long I'd be, when I first got the text. The train brought me back to the city. I finally had my lunch.

Then Miley texted. Could she meet up? Of course she could! We hung out. Adventureland Day 3. We headed towards Stephen's Green. I had just said to her to text our friend who I'd tried to visit, when the TARDIS began to call out. The TARDIS is my ringtone. I know, utterly nerdy. I didn't recognise the number, but I knew who it was.

The package had been delivered. I'd asked him to call when he'd gone through everything. It was in a letter of explanation in the brown envelope. I'd written it between half four and ten to five that morning, then rewrote it much neater writing, and with a fancy pen. He called me crazy, twice, in two different ways. He could write a book if he wanted if he can manage to not repeat himself in conversation. I was impressed, and laughing. He was stuffed away under a table. Literally under a table. He had three computers, two screens, over 100 ports and, if you'll excuse my French, a shit load of cables. He had to try figure out what went where. And he had no windows. Not the comptuer programme. He literally had no windows. He couldn't see what sort of day it was outside. He wasn't missing much. It was overcast.

I bought Strange Days, the album by The Doors, and a Jim Morrison poster. I was happy. I was estatic, actually. I'd gotten a phone call, and when I got home, I discovered that I'd also gotten a reply to my really long email. A really cool reply. I won't post it here. It's more fun keeping it to myself. My train had left the station four minutes before I received the reply, so I didn't get until later. That and the phone call and the meeting up with Miley - they made my day. It. Was. Amazing.

But I was still very tired. Sure, I now had the musical awesome that is Strange Days playing, and we got pizza in for dinner, but that didn't make up for the fact that I woke at three and fell asleep shortly after six, only to wake again shortly before eight. Even as I write this, after at least eight hours sleep, I'm tired. I'd let myself worry too much beforehand. Still, it's all turned out for the best. I think... Unless he really thinks I'm crazy. But he wouldn't have called if he didn't want to be friends. S'all good in the hood.

Yeah... that was three really strange days. Today is recovery day. I'm tweeting again, blogging again, responding to comments again, leaving things on Facebook again, texting again, not calling anyone unless I need to because I'm low on credit, but that's it. I'm back in touch with the world, after lots of silence and lots more craziness.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some tea to make and drink. I reckon five-seven cups today should help...

Oh My God It's Miley Cyrus!

So, yesterday was my second day of Adventureland with Miley Cyrus. It was rather epic. I went to Offaly, where she lives; we spent a large amount of time being children, in and out of her house. Her parents were lovely; her dad (or, daddy if you go by how she refers to them) was very smart and funny, and her mum kept trying to feed me. Her brothers were shocked that I didn't like football, but oddly didn't hold it against me. Once I said I had no interest in it, they left it at that. That's a first. Really, it is. Too many people start asking, things like, "But why? Would you not just watch it?" Eh, no.

We also watched Ferris Bueller's Day Off, and decided that one of our friends is pretty much like Ferris. Naturally, I texted him to express our opinions. "You. Are. Ferris. Bueller. FACT!" I don't know whether he was more amused or confused.

Aside from having a wee adventure to Tullamore, getting Animal Cookies, White Mice, jellies and hot chocolate, we pretty much just hung out and chatted. Good times were had. We also took a few photos, and recorded the above video. Photography was mainly consisting of us wearing 3D glasses. Let's face facts - 3D glasses are a waste unless they are actually worn, so we might as well take photos with them. I won't be posting them here... because really I'm too lazy. See, it takes a while to get to Offaly, so I travelled a bit yesterday... two 40-45 minutes train journeys, two 15-20 minute LUAS journeys, one 20-25 minute bus journey and four 15-20 minute car journeys. I got home after twelve at night, having left before nine in the morning.

It. Was. Awesome!

However, it has left me quite tired. I think I'll be resting up tonight and writing tomorrow, and hoping I'll have another day of Adventureland next week. Even if it does stop me writing, it's loads of fun! And that's what this summer is all about, for me. Writing is what eats away at the boredom between Adventureland, and what lets me explore the lives of a few people. Fun fun fun!

Today's News

Okay, strange day so far... I woke up unnaturally early, not upset, but not happy, just very, very tired. Last night was a bit like hell, but I got through it. A not-too-brief phone call set me straight. As a result of falling into a state of half-sleep, though, I 'woke' after ten. Just in time for a fry, I might add. I came down as it was about to be dished up, hungry (very hungry) and gasping for a cuppa.

If the waking up early wasn't odd enough... I walked nearly ten kilometres today. Without staying anywhere too long. It wasn't like going to college, where I spend a couple of hours sitting down. I was on my feet the whole time, listening to The Doors and Glee, in that order, once the former had run out of songs on my iPod. This is a rare occurence for me; not only was I out of the house, I was actually walking somewhere. I had to get birthday presents, and lodge a cheque. Party tonight. I may be dead tomorrow. But in the good way.

Now, onto the news! First and foremost - very sad story about Mandela's great-grandaughter. May she rest in peace. What's worse is that it coincides with the start of the World Cup in South Africa; I didn't see the opening ceremony (or the match that's being played as I write) - can someone tell me whether or not there was a minute's silence for her at some stage?

Moving on, Galway City have discovered the age-old invention of fire. The city hall was in a blaze this morning, before the workers arrived. Thankfully, no one was injured. However, the people of Galway have now been educated in the very tentative ways of release of energy. They are currently blaming the fire on water.

There is evidence to suggest that the bankers and every successful business-person was, and probably is still, a liar as a child. This discovery explains how the world is so troubled; the once successful Greeks lied for so long that everyone believed them. Now they owe a lot of money. Well done Greece on your continued success in drama. We only hope next time you won't use the world as your stage. However, if you wish to follow the example of Greece, just don't mess everything up. Play it cool - lie and cheat your way to the top, but don't get caught without any money.

Lisa Sills, celebrated blogger for the Literary Den, today revealed how the media have distorted our images of the people we call celebrities. Miley Cyrus is now considered something of a whore and a poor role model for six year old children - I would imagine that the eleven year age gap has something to do with that, too. Earlier, too, Britney Spears's mental issues were newsworthy enough to exploit. Sure, it'd be rude not to. And throughout Lisa's life, as one of Ireland's quadruplets, she's been in the news, only because she was born. With the release of pictures from her eighteenth birthday, one can only assume that the Irish media is hiding a few morons amongst its midst who insist on invading the privacy of someone who didn't ask for fame, and never even actively persued it. Well done Ireland; I forgot there was nothing more important happening in the world that we should focus on, rather than pestering a family for all of their lives.

In the world of Twitter, the World Cup is now trending, and eating up the servers. As a result, uninterested parties like myself are suffering decreased usage of the site. Thank you, Internet, for becoming less of a safe haven from football, and more of a nuisance. I really like to be treated like a second-hand citizen because I don't like football.

On a more personal note, I am a "shit stirrer". That is to say, I am intentionally winding someone up. Someone who'll remain nameless, simply because I don't want to start a witch hunt, has a habit of posting pictures of celebrities who he believes look like him. In response to questions as to why there are so many men and so few women, I explained "These are the ones on his list. The only celebs he's allowed to ever cheat on his partner with at any stage in his life." This story is still in development. Anyone who sees the funny side of my comment, noting that the person in question likes women, let me know.

This has been Paul Carroll, telling you the news that isn't all that important to everyone.