happy happy happy
happy first Mother's Day to murph_grrl, and happy Mother's Day to potbellynine and to my mom and to all the other mothers out there!
Today I am twenty-one years old.
I have nine days left in Ireland.
It's the second rainy May 14th I've seen; the other came when I was eight. But somehow, it's all okay. It's Ireland, after all. Plus, the last few days have had really lovely weather, and that makes me happy.
The party last night? Fan-fucking-tabulous craic. Everyone who was invited came (which I wasn't expecting, in honesty), Peter brought me chocolates and Diarmaid and Stuart brought bottles of wine, Peter and Cormac and Matt and James all brought their instruments and we had a session in my kitchen (kitchen party zomg!), billions of pictures were taken. Laure led me in an absolutely lovely birthday waltz. At half eleven we left, and thought we'd missed the last bus, but went to the 46A stop anyway. Ran into Noelle on the way, and she gave me a card (awwww!) then we caught a late late 46A and went to Messrs. The music was, as always, awesome. A freakin' remix of Tell Me Ma, followed by the Riverdance song that Peter played at Open Days. Sweet Dreams. Loads of others. Diarmaid bought me a drink. There was singing, dancing, and many shenanigans. Woooooot.
I'm gonna miss Peter's duet at the Fleadh. It's far and hard to get to. But I had a good morning. Ash and Lauren made eggs with peppers, cheese, onions, turkey. I found a card from Matt on the table. I got a quintilingual happy birthday sung to me: Steph in Spanish, Ash in French, me in Hebrew, and Diarmaid in Irish and German.
Ash says that Steph says the lads stayed after the going-outers left, playing until she asked them politely to go because she had to study in the morning.
I'll see Matt again once: next weekend. I'll see Diarmaid again once: during the week.
I'm leaving a week from Tuesday.
Today I am twenty-one years old.
I have nine days left in Ireland.
It's the second rainy May 14th I've seen; the other came when I was eight. But somehow, it's all okay. It's Ireland, after all. Plus, the last few days have had really lovely weather, and that makes me happy.
The party last night? Fan-fucking-tabulous craic. Everyone who was invited came (which I wasn't expecting, in honesty), Peter brought me chocolates and Diarmaid and Stuart brought bottles of wine, Peter and Cormac and Matt and James all brought their instruments and we had a session in my kitchen (kitchen party zomg!), billions of pictures were taken. Laure led me in an absolutely lovely birthday waltz. At half eleven we left, and thought we'd missed the last bus, but went to the 46A stop anyway. Ran into Noelle on the way, and she gave me a card (awwww!) then we caught a late late 46A and went to Messrs. The music was, as always, awesome. A freakin' remix of Tell Me Ma, followed by the Riverdance song that Peter played at Open Days. Sweet Dreams. Loads of others. Diarmaid bought me a drink. There was singing, dancing, and many shenanigans. Woooooot.
I'm gonna miss Peter's duet at the Fleadh. It's far and hard to get to. But I had a good morning. Ash and Lauren made eggs with peppers, cheese, onions, turkey. I found a card from Matt on the table. I got a quintilingual happy birthday sung to me: Steph in Spanish, Ash in French, me in Hebrew, and Diarmaid in Irish and German.
Ash says that Steph says the lads stayed after the going-outers left, playing until she asked them politely to go because she had to study in the morning.
I'll see Matt again once: next weekend. I'll see Diarmaid again once: during the week.
I'm leaving a week from Tuesday.