2002 flew

My brain went mushy at the start of this month and is currently being moulded into an altogether better lump of neuroses, irritations, rants, lame jokes and…I dunno, Kylie’s still in there somewhere along with Sophie Ellis-Bextor. Due to my condition (“love” is the scientific term), a proper entry looking back properly at the year is impossible. In short though, it was a year where I:

· left college

· drank too much

· became a football fan for a month

· fell over a few times

· went drinking with my sister

· assumed a (temporary) position of authority in work

· went for a promotion

· nearly crashed the car again

· made a statement to the Gardaí

· finally let go of Mate as anything resembling a normal dependable friend (presents were not exchanged this Christmas for the first time)

· made a decision to save money and go to Australia or something

But in reality, it was the year where I fell in love with the girl of my dreams. Literally. Last May when I met her first, I dreamt of her constantly. “Oh Baby” by Rhianna also rang through my head, but this was nicer. It ran around my head so much, but it was impossible and it was torture so I tried to stop wanting it. I wrote a half arsed entry about the dilemma of trying to express how I felt to a girl who I fancied called Catherine. Eventually I didn’t, and it faded to the background.

I got my last Christmas present today; a Popbitch t-shirt. It meant a lot, really did. Popbitch.com is this site I go to religiously every time I’m on the internet. It’s basically a message board for meejah people with nothing better to do but the combination of way-beyond-X-rated humour, red hot gossip about celebrities and general bitching about pop culture (hence the name) makes it a must-see for me no matter where I am. Now you’ll all go to it out of curiosity and it won’t be working. Well that’s because it’s huge, libellous and run for free by unpaid people so they pretty much keep their own hours.

Getting back to the point I rudely walked away from there, I have a soft spot for Popbitch only those close to me would know about. So it was rather sweet of my sister to use Dad’s credit card to get it for me, even though the post office fecked up (while ironically paying Dad’s wages). I only got it today, but it’s a lovely fit and I’m trilled wit meself.

Catherine is…. arriving here on Friday. The nerves aren’t giving way just yet, but I am anxious that it all goes ok. She’ll arrive in the afternoon, I’ll collect her and we’ll drive up O’Connell Street to show her the Spike/Spire/why?er. My idea. And yes, it’ll probably involve me taking a wrong turn and ending up in Wicklow. But I’ll try. It’s not as difficult to conceive how this will go in a way. The last time we met, I was *this* close to a heart attack from anticipation. Grungepappy, being the closest here to such an ailment *pounds fist, remembers forthcoming fight*, might be able to shed some light on the possibility of an anticipation-provoked heart attack. I got pretty close. Luckily, she was a little bit late and I had a precious few minutes to compose myself.

This time I’ll enjoy the whole day. Waking up after a long night’s sleep, leisurely driving to the train station, parking in plenty time and walking to the big huge electronic notice board thing. Calling her to see where she is, relaxing. Swinging my hands, clenching and releasing my fists, walking in circles. Then I’ll see her, probably with one bag. She’s got this Mary Poppins-like gift for packing everything into one bag. She’ll walk to me, I’ll walk to her, she’ll put her bag down and we’ll kiss. And hug for a long time.

Then we’ll drive out to this little disjointed suburb and she’ll meet my family. Mam will have her glasses on and she’ll be all smiles, Dad will too. Sis will be giggly, she’ll say something like “finally”. I’ll show Catherine to where she’ll be staying and then we could sit down. Go for a walk, watch telly, just be together.

We’ll go for a meal with my family that night. The next day we could go ice-skating in Dublin or just hang around at home and that evening we could go to my cousins. The next day she could make me watch Lord Of The Rings, maybe try and go into town and see the sequel. And meet up with Embryo and Cassie. Who knows? It’s not like I have an itinerary…

I know 2003 is going to be good. I have this feeling that if things keep going the way they are, I’ll be fine. I’ve never been able to say that one the 31st of December before. I’m so happy. There’s no plan, but it’s been planned perfectly.

j