Photo Post - October 2016

October opened to an evening with one of my closest friends and a final moment of calm before it got crazy again. We went for Korean food and some drinks and then saw "Swiss Army Man" with Paul Dano and Daniel Radcliffe. For me, it was the epitome of a perfect evening.

All I need in life is good food, good people and good art and the night consisted of all three. Matthew, in fact, is the perfect friend to hang out with when I want to relax. We agree and disagree in the right proportions, have a similar sense of humour and he is a truly wonderful oasis of chill. He's someone I can have night-long DMCs with and, equally, be utterly silent with. His company is engaging but undemanding.

That night helped me catch my breath following the heartbreak, celebrations and fashion frenzy of September.

The next few days were spent catching up on blog posts yet unfinished after all the blogger events in September and Fashion Week, doing chores and working on a big new project.

Midweek, the crazy kicked back in. Wednesday was both my Korean class and my siblings' birthday dinner, with pit-stops in between to buy things for their actual birthday the next day and my trip to Madrid. Thursday saw me attend an Urban Decay event during my lunch hour, an Easilocks event after work and hang out with Sarah afterwards, when we were approached by "killer clowns". Said clowns were actually just silly pre-teens but one glimpse of them sent Sarah running and the kids in pursuit, as they realised they had an easy target in their hands. When they noticed how scared she was, the two girls started apologising profusely, while I put my arm around Sarah, ushered her away and uttered the, perhaps, most old man phrase of my life: "That's enough now, kids, go on home."

On Saturday I flew out to Madrid, met my friend, got changed and immediately went out that night. The next day we tramped all over the city on an intense itinerary and then went to a gig that night. The day after I explored the Prado on my own (bawling at certain points, upon seeing certain works IRL) before flying home.

The next week slowed only slightly: I had an important business meeting after work, another Korean class, met Sarah for dinner, started my Christmas shopping, went on a gallery day with Matthew and explored (the very photogenic) IMMA and visited a haunted house with friends.

Lack of a proper sleeping pattern being a problem became apparent very quickly in the following week. On the Monday I rushed home to help celebrate my sister's boyfriend's 21st birthday, the next day I went to see "Bridget Jones' Baby" with Sarah (surprisingly brilliant - I don't know if I've ever laughed so much in the cinema before but this was helped by the very emotionally involved audience that gasped and oohed comically throughout), had class again, made a tit of myself at an Alex & Ani event, rushed home-home for a doctor's appointment, celebrated my grandaunt's 80th birthday and played with my little cousins.

All of this chaos (and fun - the emotional and energy rollercoaster, basically), meant that I crashed. The big project was draining me and not working as smoothly as I wanted, I was trying to balance work and a life, missed out on a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and lost something so dear to me it felt like losing a limb...so by the time I went home-home the next weekend, I was fragile. Which all came to a head when I started crying at the dinner table for no particular reason. Tensions were high at home due to many factors from the various family members and that Saturday was mostly very unpleasant and saw me spend most of the day crying.

Everyone made up, of course, as we always do, and quickly. My family are a passionate and quick-tempered bunch, paired with some anxious tendencies, and it's often a recipe for emotional outbursts. But we also adore and really like each other, which makes for quick and happy reconciliations.

As a result, the last couple of days of the month were spent eating nice food, reminiscing with Granny, giving the family at-home facials, laughing, practicing on my skateboard and visiting the Most Haunted House in Ireland with, what has to have been, the sauciest and giddiest group ever, which made the tour campy and hilarious and not the least bit scary. One of the most personally entertaining moments had to be the look on the "gimp" and "ghosts'" faces when I emerged from the tunnel I'd been shoved into on my own, playing with my phone and drinking a carton of juice. Terrified, I was not.

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A common conclusion I've been coming to at the end of these posts so far is that I'm extremely lucky to have a life filled with such a great family and friends and this month is no different. From being a host to being a much-needed calming influence and from being a shoulder to cry on to someone to cry until I laugh with, the people around me keep me sane when very little else in my life is.

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TRAVEL: 48 Hours in Madrid

Last weekend I went to Madrid to finally visit a friend who has been living there for over a year and to go to a gig by a South Korean rapper that I like. I flew in on a Saturday evening - a fact that my friend repeatedly gave out to me for as I "wasted a day" but considering how hectic things have been lately, I wasn't rushing for anyone - and we dropped off my stuff and immediately went out for the night.

We arrived late to his friend's birthday dinner and didn't end up eating a lot so while the others went on to a bar, we went for second dinner at Mercado de San Ildefonso, with the plan to meet everyone later. The Mercado was seriously cool and I wished we'd arrived earlier to explore it properly. It is a permanent indoor market and bar where there are loads of different kinds of cuisines to choose from. We went for the burger stand, upon my friend's insistence they were some of the best in the city, and I frustrated him again by choosing to order a hotdog.

When we finished eating, everyone had already gone home so we wandered the city a little, hit up a couple of bars and then headed home, much to my friend's disgust at my old lady insistence of sleeping rather than staying out until 6am like a local. But it was a good thing that I did as the next day was crazy busy.

My friend gave me an intense guided tour of the city in one day which involved stops at the palace and gardens, a visit to a crypt and accidentally attending mass (Granny would be proud), trying jamón in Plaza de Mayor, spotting Pikachu, visiting Sol (a square at the centre of the city that has streets radiating off the circumference like a sun), a pit stop in Sephora and a long, unplanned interlude in the Reina Sofia museum (again, frustrating my friend). Once I had enough of seeing Man Ray, Picasso and Dalí (for now) IRL and was dragged out the door, we headed to the Parque del Buen Retiro and the Statue of the Fallen Angel and the Crystal Palace. Suitably blown away by the scale of the park and the vast range of things to see and do there, I realised I was starving and we went for an insanely delicious five course meal.

Cue the panic as we suddenly realised the time. We ran to the Metro and arrived at the gig about an hour after it had begun but I was in time to see Sik-K, the main rapper, and hear him play my favourite songs. Afterwards, I toddled happily out the door and only noticed that my friend had gone missing. Moments later, he burst outside, grabbed my arm and yanked me inside without much explanation. Next thing I knew, I was dragged into a bar upstairs where he had spotted Sik-K and his crew go. Despite a security guard trying to tell my friend that only people who had paid for a Meet and Greet could be in there, (which I hadn't because I think it's effing weird to pay to hang with a person) my friend insisted that I had come from Ireland specifically for the gig (not exactly true but what can you do?). After saying this loudly a few times, a member of the crew went over to tell Sik-K and, next thing I know, my friend is shoving me towards him for a hug and a picture like a pushy stage mom. Once we had the picture taken, I thanked everyone and tried to get my pal to leave as the security guard eyed us with increasing agitation. Afterwards, all I could do was laugh and call my dad to tell him someone had pulled one of his classic moves. Though I was kind of embarrassed at the time, it's a good story and memory and I'm pretty grateful to my crazy, lovely friend.

The next day I was on my own and spent it sweating and panicking about using public transport solo and then hanging in the Prado Museum. Where I made a show of myself by full-on actually bawling because I got so emotional. Like with the Reina Sofia, I really need to go back for multiple visits but the place was incredible. The emotional mess began in front of Dürer's self-portrait. You know the one. The one where he's all tumbling golden locks. He was one of the artists I first loved and I've only ever seen his prints IRL in the Chester Beatty Museum in Dublin. To see this was different. The next room on, I accidentally stumbled upon some Botticellis. They aren't particularly famous examples of his ouevre but he was also an early and large fave, an influential one. And I suddenly started to cry. People passing by looked at me, startled, probably assuming someone had just broken up with me in the museum or something. I pulled myself together and walked into the next room and spotted Rogier Van Der Weyden's "Descent from the Cross" and the scale and vibrancy of the colours in person set me off again. Sadly, this was one of the museum's big-hitters and had a crowd in front of it...Jesus, I'm an embarrassing human.

The rest of the visit was less intense as there were fewer works thereafter that had such a deep personal resonance for me. I left the museum, grabbed lunch in the  Prado Cafe and delved into the Metro and my many line changes to get to the airport. Having arrived extraordinarily early, I wandered around at a leisurely pace, ending my trip the way I had intended the whole thing to go. But, I guess, if I didn't have someone less calm than me lighting a fire underneath me, I wouldn't have had the amazing experience of the city that I did.

And that's what my 48 hours in Madrid looked like x

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