Monthly Archives: March, 2012

Tales from Maidens Debating part 2: Trinity and the pool table of lore…Or, the schneaky abortion debate

The second part of the Fresher!Niamh saga.

In this installment- We have an honest to God good time and start to learn the ropes and rules

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When I told my friend I was going to Trinity he told me a story I’m not entirely sure is true or that I want to share with you.

When you debate in Trinity the 2 societies hosting, the Phil and the Hist hold it in various arts building rooms and the Graduates memorial buidling on campus.  In the GMB there are pool tables.  one of them, my friend enthusiastically informed me, is the pool table on which Mary Harney lost her virginity.  And they DON’T TELL YOU WHICH ONE IT IS.

Needless to say I was a little nervous about this one.

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Tuesday Topics: Guess who saw a shitty remake

Damn you, Film Four.

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Heartbreak of my last Saturday on Reading week – Find ‘guess who’s coming to dinner’ on film four and think you’re about to get your Sidney Poitier Katherine Hepburn Spencer Tracy funk on only for the film to come back from an ad break and find that it’s the shitty 2006 ‘remake’ rom com with Ashton Kutcher.

*Sob* There’s go karting…

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Nun so fine

It was a weird weekend.

My case of the Mondays is soothed by the sunshine and the existence of this photo

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Niamh ‘Sisters are doin’ it for themselves’ Keoghan

The Bro clothes summer spotting game

Well it’s that time of year again- Ireland is bathed in unseasonable warmth, the only warmth we’ll be getting before our traditional washout summer.In their excitement about the sun I have noticed several trends among lads dusting off their summer clothes.  I have constructed the following rules for a spotting game for this joyous sun dazed week.

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The bros summer clothes spotting game

Shorts- 1 point

flip flops- 1 point

Beach shorts- 2 points

combat shorts- 2 points

GAA shorts- 3 points

Shutter shades- 3 points

Deep V neck shirt- 2 points ( Bonus 1 point for visible chest hair)

Combo Beach Shorts + flip flops- 4 points

‘Triple crown’ dickhead combo Beach shorts, flip flops and shutter shades- 5 points

And if you see someone with farmer’s tan you win!

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Niamh ‘There is allegedly a naked guy on South Campus’ Keoghan

 

 

 

Thought of the early morning

I have spent all night figuring out wordpress, getting a theme that doesn’t look like a bag of smashed ass and preparing 2 WHOLE POSTS to be published AUTOMATICALLY next week.  I love living in the future ^.^ . while I’m on my writerly buzz, here’s a final thought

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Going back to your old school is like going to a party that your ex is also going to. I have to decide what outfit is going to make me look the most like a well rounded interesting young woman studying interesting things with hobbies like debating, acting and being a fucking badass. Trying to find a pretty dress that says all this is a nightmare.

I was supposed to go to a show in my old school last night.  I was all rared up for going- Fuck yeah, see my old teachers do funny shit, let everyone know what a fucking legend I am now, etc etc.  It was only a migraine that floored me and made me rethink going.  In the end I bowed out, and I had a think about what I actually wanted to do going to sit in that old hall, see the familiar and not so familiar faces and all that.

And then I remembered how much I wanted out of the place by the end of sixth year.  I mean, I wasn’t unhappy for all of my time there- Just a huge amount of it.  I made some good friends but I also had to deal with some of the worst people.  I was glad to see the back of the place for good 2 years ago and I’m a bit annoyed that I’d instantly jump at the opputunity to go back just to go ‘Ha! Yes, I got into College, yes I am successful and happy and well adjusted no thanks to ye!’.  How petty is that?  Do I really need their permission to go around being badass?  It’s an awfully hollow sort of feeling, really.

I think I’ve done pretty well for myself in casting off any evidence of my education there.  In two years I’ve gone from a pretty faithful Catholic schoolgirl with an exclusively female social circle made up entirely of friends from school, to an atheist college student bass playing liberal young woman… thing, with a pretty even spread of male and female friends.  I think the first thing to go was the faith- It was feeble enough to begin with but when my grandmother went down with a stroke that didn’t kill her but let her live on in agony for 18 months any faith I had in the church remaining was killed stone dead.   The male friends and friends beyond school just sort of accumulated happily through the summer of 2010; I collected them up like I did pogs in the summer of 1998, it was brilliant.

I’ve trundled along nicely for the last two years pretty well without the place.  I don’t have to prove anything to them anymore.

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Niamh ‘Once a Catholic’ Keoghan

 

Tales from Maidens Debating part 1: UCD and the Baptism of fire

Tales from Maidens debating part 1: UCD

First in a series recounting my first year of debating at university

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I can pin point the moment shit got real for me in the debating world.  I’m calling it a world because it is a remarkably complex and wide network between universities with its own culture, in jokes and running gags that you are fucked for understanding unless you’ve been on the scene for at least 4 years.  it’s terrifying and terrible and also a rather fun way of passing a Friday and Saturday while feeling all smart intellectual.  It’s the first time in my life I’ve ever been involved in anything competitive that actually takes my interest, so of course when they were looking for people to go to inter varsities I hopped at the chance- And I mean, I did pretty well in maidens, I got through house debates just fine- An IV would be a snap, right?

Oh boy…

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Very Superstitious

Very superstitious

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On walking home last night from the bus, three things stuck out to me-  Firstly, the creepy trees I have to go through to get into my estate.  Secondly, The strange yowling noise I could hear as I walked past houses and thirdly, an abundance of helicopter noises above.

All three of these things have pretty ordinary explanations – I’m nervous of the creepy trees because of the unsavoury characters that might be lurking in there,  The strange yowling noise was a cat in heat and the helicopters were just helicopters, police or otherwise.  The odd thing is none of these sensible explanations for my nervousness are the ones I have.

For the creepy trees my first fear : SLENDERMAN

For the helicopters my first thought : ESCAPED VIOLENT CRIMINAL (Yes, that cliché, I know)

And the third, the yowly cat noise, my first thought : BANSHEE

There is something wrong with how my mind works…

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