It’s a birrrrrthday blog!
Yesterday, it was Brian’s birthday. Whoop whoop!
Celebrations for the big day actually took place on Tuesday, but I was still sick at that stage and didn’t get a chance to write about it. In any case, my little green book of blog topics dictated that I wasn’t to write about it until today anyway, so here we go!
The lead up to the celebrations was a little bit tense. Brian’s friends were all meant to come up, but cancelled. Then they un-cancelled. Then they cancelled again. Then, finally, they un-cancelled once and for all. Hurrah!
It was a little odd being in a room with Brian and his friends, because it was just like being in a room full of Brians. Irish accents floated from all directions. Mock-insults rained down like confetti. I always get a strange image in my head of lots of identical people in a little room walking into each other and bouncing off like the balls in one of the lotto machines. This was probably the closest I’d ever see (though, of course, they didn’t actually look at all alike).
Later, I was working in my room and Shannon came and got me to come out and chat to people over pre-drinks (even though I wasn’t going out with the rest of them). It was later revealed that Shannon then got in trouble for trying to kill me, as there were strangers in the kitchen and people were worried that I would have a nervous breakdown or something. So to clarify: I’m not like a new puppy who can’t help but pee itself when it gets overexcited. Yes, I get stressed out in social situations, but I do have the presence of mind to remove myself from these situations if needs be! Promise!
Now seems to be as good a time as ever to say a few things about Brian. Brian is one of my many, many, many flatmates – there really are quite a few of us. You’ll meet the others as time goes on. However, of my several million flatmates, Brian is probably my best friend. We alternate between talking about serious things, talking absolute nonsense, and talking about serious things in a ridiculous way. He also seems to know when he should be helpful and understanding, and when he should just tell me to wise up. That’s important. (No rose-tinted spectacles here though – he can be a tiny bit aggravating every once in a while!)
So happy birthday, Brian! Try not to fall on your face!
My grandmother was not like others:
She wouldn’t confuse you with your brothers.
She didn’t spend her evenings knitting.
She wouldn’t waste a second sitting.
She wouldn’t let them perm her hair.
She had no doilies anywhere.
She never wore a floral dress.
Her room was always in a mess.
And her joy was not concealed
When she played rounders in the field
Or showed us how to cross our eyes
(or how to tell our mother lies).
So how do you honour one so rare,
Fantastical beyond compare?
Her headstone’s a rosebush with blooms in cream,
Her resting place a bubbling stream,
And for her distaste of unhappy times,
Her eulogy’s a nursery rhyme.
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