just life
Phew. I used up more energy than I had readily available today. We walked down into Cobh, and on the way went by one of the restaurants which had its lunch menu out and something on it cost €15.95. I said, "For that price you might as well go into Cork and have a burger at Brown Thomas." Then we got to the post office (which was our goal) and the line was a mile long, and it was absolutely gorgeous out, so we said, "Huh. Want to go into Cork and have lunch at Brown Thomas?" and did. And got rained on. >.<
Anyway, we walked around Cork and had lunch and got our hair cut (Irish hairdressers seem to have an unholy terror of cutting the hair at my nape as short as I want them to. my hair is now a very cute bob except this EXTREMELY ANNOYING stuff in the back that's too goddamned long. i have given up on hairdressers and have asked my mommy to bring sharp scissors and fix the back of my head when she comes down this weekend.) and by the time we got home again I was completely out of energy and becoming morose. I deduced a meal might be good, and have displaced the morosity, if not the general tiredness.
But! I got an ok from the photo class people to take tonight's class when it's next offered later in the month, so I'm going to go see a fiddler play at the Sirius Arts Centre here in Cobh tonight. And Ted has gone to photo class, and will tell me if there's actually any Big Revelations (tonight's class is "practice using the photoshop tools they showed us very quickly in the first class", and I suspect I wouldn't get much out of it, really, because I know how to use photoshop and what they talked about and did didn't go over my head, although it clearly went over most people's. So I've already been using all those tools now that I know where and what they are). So all is well.
I am getting *seriously* sullen about not doing any writing, though. (Oh the irony. I whine and bitch and moan about not having a life, and as soon as I go out and start doing things I whine about not writing. Perhaps if I stop by a planet on Orion's belt, I will find a happy medium...)
miles to Dunharrow: 152
Anyway, we walked around Cork and had lunch and got our hair cut (Irish hairdressers seem to have an unholy terror of cutting the hair at my nape as short as I want them to. my hair is now a very cute bob except this EXTREMELY ANNOYING stuff in the back that's too goddamned long. i have given up on hairdressers and have asked my mommy to bring sharp scissors and fix the back of my head when she comes down this weekend.) and by the time we got home again I was completely out of energy and becoming morose. I deduced a meal might be good, and have displaced the morosity, if not the general tiredness.
But! I got an ok from the photo class people to take tonight's class when it's next offered later in the month, so I'm going to go see a fiddler play at the Sirius Arts Centre here in Cobh tonight. And Ted has gone to photo class, and will tell me if there's actually any Big Revelations (tonight's class is "practice using the photoshop tools they showed us very quickly in the first class", and I suspect I wouldn't get much out of it, really, because I know how to use photoshop and what they talked about and did didn't go over my head, although it clearly went over most people's. So I've already been using all those tools now that I know where and what they are). So all is well.
I am getting *seriously* sullen about not doing any writing, though. (Oh the irony. I whine and bitch and moan about not having a life, and as soon as I go out and start doing things I whine about not writing. Perhaps if I stop by a planet on Orion's belt, I will find a happy medium...)
miles to Dunharrow: 152