Aoife got us free tickets to a Munster vs. Glasgow rugby game!
Whoops: I wore blue into a red sea.
“That sky looks dodge.”
….Yet the Irish have a great laugh if you misspell, and especially if you mispronounce:
Cobh, Youghal, Dún Laoghaire, Thurles, or Tráighlí! [or Edinburgh!]
I tried reading the rules later, and can’t follow most of them (what is a “scrum”?). I liked the wording of this Stellenbosch Law:
“Defending teams may collapse a maul.”
Collapse as a verb is so satisfying.
Rugby is a frustrating sport to watch. Every, tiny advancement is smothered in a pile – it really is just a lot of heaving.
”Sport is my passion!”
“It was plain that he was upset by the loss of that precious object. It was plain. The loss of the object upset him. The object was precious. He was upset by the loss of the object.”
A mid-day drunk at Mok’s realized it was his friend’s birthday and ran across the street for a cheap cake and a box of small candles (some of which he shoved in wickside down).
On a related note, Amy Sedaris discovered that the plastic decorations stuck into the billowy frosting of holiday cupcakes are themselves called “pokes”. Amazing.
Completely blown away by this bloomhouse! James told me that it “doesn’t exist” by the city’s records (it was once a squat), and so it doesn’t have to follow building codes. Also amazing.
“My body vibrates like a bridge over a waterfall.”
Eleanor in James’ garden.
The originals read “Left Wing Government? NO thanks!”
They were just asking for it.
Bertie getting reelected. Someone yelled at me to take his picture, haha.
The election results party.
“Happy Bertie, Mrs. President.”
“an utter numb-skull… a most lack-a-daisical, graspless fellow, born to stare at existence.”
Eugene [my favorite] and a woman from Detroit walked home with me. When we got to the gates of my apartment I told them I had the matches [lucifers!] they were trying to find, so we went in to find them. The match box sounded like it was a full box of rattling, hale and hearty matches. However, we drew the drawer out only to discover that someone must’ve, match-by-match, struck them and immediately blown out the flame. Every single head of every single match was singed.
a flotilla in Cionn tSáile (Kinsale) harbor.
Kennings & invented words (not mine):
“faith-heat” for enthusiasm
“word-strain” for accent
“whale-way”, “drowning-flood” or “waters-strife” for the sea.
Damien at Charles Fort.
I am pretty into this alternative siding: shattered slate smeared together with some mortar.
Crumb by crumb.
Leticia & Anne-gaïd.
Someone also brought a balloon animal-making kit, so there were intermittent explosions all night as the animals were stepped on or ripped apart from duress.
Christian & Mary are constantly en-embrace.
(en- is perfect because it’s a prefix that derives from French loanwords with the onset of “en-” meaning (in English, maybe for the most part in French as well?) “to cause (a person or thing) to be in”.) I have never studied French D:.
Top: Viviane, Florean, Caroline, Marion, Patrick the Shithead, Mattias.
Bottom: Michael, Liz, Leslie, Claire, Anne-gaïd, Leticia, the Purple Dog.
“un petit souvenir de Cork.”
Cailin & Germany.
Anytime I see a picture of myself taken in the dark of an indoor venue, I seem to have more freckles than I actually do. Maybe keeping away from the sun gives me mottled, shadow freckles.
I am moving into a hammock in two days!
[and flying to Vasteras, Sweden in 2.5… ahhh!]
Michael & maman Gaïd.