Soft on the inside

Winter always means one consistent emotion for me; longing. My opinions on ladyfolk and other curiosities were formed whilst standing against walls on November nights as a plucky (read “brain-dead”) 15 year old. Six years on, and I still get all mushy inside. My mushiness was something I tried to get away from a lot in the past year, as I think it leads me to taking myself too seriously. Not too far down under this wise-cracking arsehole persona is a romantic boy. I don’t know how to make him less creepy so I hide him away, but sometimes he makes his mark. The other night, Sis, me and a bunch of her friends sat down at the table behind me eating Indian food from our sexy new restaurant. As we tried to cool down, Sis stuck on RealPlayer and at random, it picked out an mp3 of Norah Jones “Don’t Know Why”. Her friends loved it, and asked her where she’d heard of it. Sis, being the saint she is, said “It was actually Joseph that got that”. Four heads swung towards me in shock. Her brother? The big oaf that makes fart jokes, talks about boobs and shaves whenever he finds the razor again? He liked this? I went a bit red; my soft side was exposed and I tried to cover it up by saying something like “oh I saw her on Parkinson, she has nice tits”. I know, I know, I’m being silly. But the more I think about it, the more I realise that Sensitive Joseph has been sent into exile. The person who wrote the first few entries in this diary, the guy who swooned after a girl called Elaine, the boy who dreamed of kissing girls on street corners has been hidden away. It might be because I’ve met so many people that read this. Of the six people who left ten notes in my last entry (thank you all, by the way), I’ve met three of them, the kind of statistic I’d say is pretty typical in my diary. But no, I know that I’m like this in real life too; I’m covering up the soft side. Not that the arse-grabbing, camp, extravagant Joe you see drunk in a pub isn’t me; believe me it’s as much part of me as “Sensitive Joseph”. But I suppose disillusionment with romance, love, kissing and wanting to hold someone has left me a bit empty. Last night I saw this quick clip of a couple on a beach and I couldn’t get the image out of my head later on while I was trying to sleep. A holiday. With a girl. Walking on a beach. It all seems very far away right now.

But things are changing. For the first time in my life, I’m finding myself a leadership role; being “number 1” to my boss’s Captain Picard. I’m missed when I’m gone in work, which is taking me some getting used to. I’ve never had a pivotal role in anything bar a seesaw in a playground. But I’m getting more and more confident of my abilities, far more so than in college. It might feel ridiculous to keep telling people I’m still working in a call centre but sure feck it. I’m now half-way through my Two Grand Plan. I hit €1000 last Friday. I set up my phone at the time I came up with the idea to go off at 6pm on the Friday after every payday with a reminder to go to the credit union to bring up my account to the next stage. By some amazing coincidence, my sister was holding my phone at exactly 6pm last Friday and saw the message flash up on the screen: Credit Union €1000. So now she knows. Still; as long as the parents, who think I couldn’t save a cent to save my life, don’t know about my Two Grand Plan, I’m happy.

Other news in brief:

The Sis and me have been on our own here since 9 November and we’ve managed not to kill each other. Of course, if I don’t put out the bin soon, that may change.

We had one lil get-together the night the parents left; she went to the local club til 2am, came home, fell asleep, her friends came back and she woke and soon the house was full of folk we don’t know; I counted at least 20 which is the highest ever I think. We don’t do parties usually in the L household. I was so glad to be sober, since I never want something like what happened to me one time I had people back at the house to happen to her. I was there to tell this rowdy young shit to calm down and stop ripping up this other guy’s €50 note (???). I also managed to completely stop anyone breaking anything or getting into any bedrooms they weren’t supposed to, which was great. Sis still got sick, but she was feeling sick anyway and she was great after that. So all’s well that ends well etc.

I got handsomely paid for being the boss for that week a while ago so I bought myself new clothes. And a new shower robe in Penney’s. Without a belt. That was really more of a dressing-gown. But then you can’t really blame me; the staff there are abysmal. I mean, they’re all like zombies. I don’t know what their recruitment policy is, but they’ve got to stop employing these waster studenty types that seem like they’d be much happier curled up on a sofa drinking tea they warmed up in a microwave called Stuart or something while watching “Today With Des & Mel”…….but still managing to look absolutely beautiful and charming and witty in their pyjamas in the delightful place of their own and their couch would be a lovely place to sleep on should someone come to visit from Dublin for the weekend so please disregard any Penney’s staff-dissing.

Was Alicia Keys’ video for “Girlfriend” (very good by the way, despite sudden piano solo) made in London? I’m almost sure it was; if so, it’s an interesting twist.

Badly Drawn Boy’s Have You Fed The Fish? is so good I only took it out of my CD player today for the first time in nearly two weeks. It’s epic, heartfelt, catchy and above all – it’s him!!! Buy it! Incidentally, I would go to his second concert only I don’t know anyone who’s going……

My left middle fingernail was smashed up against the balcony of a bus when it suddenly stopped as I was at the top of the stairs. I went flying down the stairs and it ruined my whole “sexy urban man in a blue jeans, long black coat and brown moccasins” façade. My nail is now cracked down the middle and it’s swollen and sore. So thanks, Dublin Bus.

I bought a €54 toaster in Power City Blanchardstown. It hasn’t broke yet.

I wanted to end on a hopeful note.

j