The band were amazing, apparently. And she nearly kicked some guys ass only for J the boyf held her back. Yes, indeedy. Driving past the Ambassador on Friday night, the work-mate who was giving me a lift home insisted on me ringing her to see where abouts on the queue she was located. We spotted her then, surrounded by more people in black. She had her cropped top and baggies on. The workmate started shouting at her that she'd freeze queuing up in what she was wearing. I tried explaining that teenagers don't feel the cold.
As she was out at the gig for the night, myself and Mammy2 had date night, she cooked vegetarian shepards pie. It was yum. We chilled on the couch for the night, chatting and watching Fingersmith, love that film. She arrived in around 11.30 with the boyf in tow. It was the first time he would be staying over, so I had the shotgun loaded and took up position between the living room where he would be sleeping and her bedroom. Mammy2 said I was over-reacting and sent me to bed. They stayed up watching some dvds and hit the sack around 3.30. The kid was in bits from moshing. Her nose was bruised and her neck was sore.
I was of course a great help by adding "Well, if you insist on all that headbanging, its bound to hurt" . As it turns out, the boyf slept in his clothes. Something about being worried about me. Perhap he was planning on a hasty exit, who knows. I was delighted to hear that he was scared of me. Its best to keep things that way. He had band practice early that morning, so she spent her time on the couch cutting up perfectly normal sized t-shirts and removing sleeves and most of thee material from them and ending up with a black hankkerchief which she termed a 'top'. Safety pins held this thing together. She moved onto the making her trousers flared. I took solace in the fact that she had a pair of trousers which means that at least her legs would be covered. I was working on one of my other websites. Grocery shopping followed and avoiding her lists, which usually consist of eye pencils and jam and cream rings. We were out with the in-laws Saturday, it was their wedding anniversary and so we brought them to Odessa. However, as we had an agreement with the kid that her and the boyf hung at the apartment of a Saturday evening, we had to get a teenage sitter. Luckily, a good mate, J had offered during the week. She came around and watched dvds and kept one eye on them whilst they 'hung'. A hard job.
Sunday morning, we were awake early to listen to the infamous documentary on Radio 1. Yes, if you are bothered at all, you can download it here http://pc.rte.ie/2006/pc/pod-docone-0603-39.11.mp3 in the next few days. A lovely 30 minute docu on us. How interesting are we. I didn't sound like the bogger I am, thank god. It was strange listening to ourselves talking. It was very well put together and they featured a Juilet Turner song. The rest of the day was spent on the computer again, the project that I've been working on is a lot larger then I thought. She started working on a painting that was due for today. I didn't ask. She is fantastic at art but Captain Speedy she isn't. It was one of Bottecelli's works and its fairly detailed. She has the main woman finished and she was working on the shell last night. I think she lost feeling in her arm at one stage. Or she could have been looking for sympathy. Either way, I commented lots on how fantastic the painting was. See, I am doing better at the paying attention stuff. By around 7 I was slowing becoming a pdf document, so I decided to stop work. I had barely stood up from the chair when she slid in under me, and was on myspace.com before I had time to log off. This is her taking a break from the painting.
Its coming along really well, but I can't see it being finished on time. She was threatened with detention. She said that we should write her a note. I can see it already. "Please excuse _____ from detention, the reason she hasn't the painting finished is because she is an artist and you can't rush art" or something to that effect.
The boyf got a part-time job, he's working Saturday nights and all day Sundays. He wanted to get a job to get money so he could get up to Dublin to see her more. Or that's what he told her. Its very sweet. So, he's up tonight and they're 'hanging' for a while at the apartment. I think I am taking a break from my extra work. I'm wrecked, isn't one supposed to be refreshed after the weekend?
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