Watching Little Women while attempting to eat pizza should qualify for a new Olympic sport. Attempting to swallow molten mozzarella while choking back sobs is, I believe, a feat of Herculean strength. Just an observation I've had. The solitary hair sprouting from the corner of my right upper lip is still very much there, doing… Continue reading Groundhog Daze: How Future Holly will make Past Holly proud
I wish I was the kind of person who knew how to correctly apportion food. Tonight, I swore I only wanted a snack, a nibble, just a few bird-like mouthfuls of Sunday's roast skewered together in perfect symphonic harmony and somehow I ended up with a plate the size of a small child. I said… Continue reading Groundhog Daze: The Roast Dinner Conundrum: how many scoops of mash does a monster make?
For the past week I have had the troubling sensation of feeling there is a hair in my mouth. Curled around my lip and into the cavernous vortex of my gob, a rogue follicle is rakishly entangling itself in my food until the moment of mastication when it detaches, like a lover who's just heard… Continue reading Groundhog Daze: Mary, Mary, surprisingly hairy, how does your moustache grow?
You know that Tame Impala song, "feels like we only go backwards"? Well, word on the deserted city streets is Tony Holohan has started a secret petition to make it our new anthem-elect until 2047 when all of this shite ends and we remember what it is to shake hands and walk up to a… Continue reading Groundhog Daze: Blah like Enda Kenny
18.10.20 I didn't go for the morning run I said I would. Instead. I turned over and waited for the cat, curled away from the crook of my knee-calf, to sense that I was awake and begin purring. He did and I rewarded his love with the stroke scratch tickle we can never truly know… Continue reading Almost as it was before
First things first, can we please have a moment for the visual accompanying this entry that perfectly demonstrates me leaping into the unknown? THANK YOU. If I had to estimate, I would say it’s 45 degrees right now and there is a 30% chance that this is horrendously inaccurate. Still, for the purposes of entertainment,… Continue reading Day 44: What Holly Did Next
Another one from the archives. Or, more accurately, the multitudinous, multi-faceted ether of my iPhone notes. Does it surprise you that it's always been my dream to work at the UN? If it does then I've been highly misleading in these diaries. Well, dearest reader, that dream almost came true for me the other night… Continue reading Day 43: “Hey, u up?” and other things I’ve emailed the UN at 2am
What you're reading is approximately ten days to two weeks stale. Proceed with caution and apologies if it's a little soggy. I am so sick of my own music. Dear God, what did I listen to before The National? Is there a life outside of the same frigging playlists that I keep relentlessly shoving on… Continue reading Day 42: What does one listen to if not listening to The National? Asked the human cookie monster.
I am sitting in the back of my parents’ Hyundai eating potato salad with my bare hands. I am on day two of the worst hangover of all time and I am insatiable. I wanted a 99 but Circle K thwarted me again. Why is the world so against me indulging in some soft-serve sugar?… Continue reading Day 41: Potato salad fingers.
Is this the chosen subject line of the email I sent one head of department in my organisation to tell him I was quitting my job? Maybe. WHOEVER SAID I SOLD OUT AND BECAME AN I-DOTTING, T-CROSSING, NINE-TO-FIVER WITH MY REGULAR SALARY, PLEASE KINDLY EAT YOUR WORDS NOW. I'm still eccentric, I'm still a maverick,… Continue reading Day 40: I have some news…(I’m not pregnant)