The alarm went off at 7.30am as usual. My phone beeped. It was a message from my boss. The office is closed today as Hurricane Ophelia thunders towards Ireland.
My heart soared with joy. Naturally I am concerned that people are safe, and that the damage caused by this weather event is not too devastating, But for self-centred and petty reasons, I was happy. There won’t be too much working from home for my good self today, seeing as I left my computer at work on Friday. What a shame. Continue reading That one Ophelia – I never liked her. Always had fierce notions about her.
When I get my driving license (whenever that may be – I have the test in a month, but I am well aware of how tricky it can be to pass, so I need to stay realistic) I do not ever want to get into breakfast discussions with colleagues, about the traffic on the way to work in the morning. I’ve just had the most mind-numbingly dull bowl of porridge, and boiled egg of my life – and these are not thrilling foodstuffs at the best of times.
This morning my breakfast companions were all male. I don’t want to engage in stereotypes about the sexes, and I am a firm believer in equal opportunity for everyone. However I have observed that there is a distinct difference in the topics of conversation over morning gruel, depending on whether you sitting with men or women. Continue reading Men v women – why I will go straight to hell
As avid readers of this blog will tell you, I occasionally write more than blathering blog posts.
I started this MidnightMurphy venture shortly after I arrived in Dublin. During the months before I moved here, I was engaged in a readjustment phase to Ireland, from my childhood home in Limerick. I was also detoxifying after decades in Amsterdam. To help me deal with these major life decisions I started writing. Continue reading Writer’s block
I had an early night last night. I wanted to feel refreshed and energetic for the day. The long weekend in Amsterdam was still working its way through my system. By Thursday however I ought be feeling revivified.
Having finished my bottle of manly anti-perspirant the previous morning, I got dressed after my shower today, without dousing myself in freshness. Continue reading The smell of adventure
Days like this are dangerous for your career. Continue reading Days like this
The International Bar close to Dame Street was the venue for the new one act play ‘Show me your everything’ by Canadian playwright Rose Ugoalah which is playing this week. Having seen and enjoyed her short play ‘Love me Tinder’ in the same location last year, I was looking forward to this new piece. Continue reading Theatre times: ”Show me your everything’
A friend invited me for a midweek beverage. This would be a rare Tuesday night excursion for me. However seeing as the location was in George’s Dock in the IFSC, close to my house I had no excuse.
Running for a fortnight at the end of September, is the German festival of Oktoberfest. This was our destination.
I’ve never been to the German version – although I am aware that it is massive beer festival originating in Munich in Germany, where the German delicacies of beer and bratwurst and lederhosen are celebrated. People drink massive steiners of beer served by comely farm wenches. Or something. Continue reading Oktoberfest Dublin – the scam
My plans were noble for this Sunday. I was going to visit the Irish Jewish Museum on the South Circular Road. Sadly, by the time I had pulled myself together it was already 3pm – and almost closing time.
Wanting to have a somewhat productive Sunday I decided that a coastal walk would be an enjoyable alternative excursion. I had once heard loose talk in some sleazy tavern, that the Dalkey to Killiney coast walk was a pleasant stroll. Continue reading Seaside on Sunday
Each year in Ireland there is an event called ‘Culture night’ – an evening where museums, galleries and exhibition spaces are open late, and free for all and sundry. Tonight was that night.
I am a lucky boy in the sense that I finish work at 4pm on a Friday and I live in the city centre. My last quarter of an hour at work was spent clicking on the website, to find cultural things to do on the way home.
The plan was simple. My bus stops at the top of O’Connell Street – I was going to try my luck at getting a backstage tour of the Gate Theatre, and mosey over to the Writers’ Museum to see if I could draw inspiration from other authors’ pain.
I arrived in town at 5pm. The lovely woman at the Gate box office told me that their event was starting at 7.30pm. Too late for my carcass. I wandered over and investigated the Writers’ Museum which was reasonably engaging.
Then I had a brainwave. I’d head towards the Customs’ House which – for one night only – was open to the public.
En route I passed the Abbey Theatre – the national theatre of Ireland. There was a queue outside. My interest was piqued. What could this be? Continue reading Theatre times: ‘Katie Roche’
It has been a long time coming – this Red Hot Chili Peppers concert at the 3Arena. So long – thirteen months – that I have in fact written blog posts about the gig on two previous occasions.
The first post (which you can read HERE ) describes my excitement last August getting the tickets, my memories of the Chili Peppers covers band who introduced me to Amsterdam in the year 2000, and the impure thoughts I used to have about the lead singer Anthony Kiedis.
The second post (which you can read HERE) details how a mere days before the Christmas gig – the opening night of the world tour – my Anthony got the flu, and postponed the concert until last night – the closing night of the tour.
I was ready. I had been ready for over a year. I was late leaving work so I didn’t have a chance to go home to dress for a rock gig. I would not be wearing a bandana this evening. I would be eating a big, greasy burrito from ‘Burrito Blues’ in the IFSC, on the way down to the concert though. Continue reading Concert: Red Hot Chili Peppers