The Vanguard

“Good Morning, Vanguard Chelsea, Cian speaking.”

It is 1:30 AM on another typical night shift in the Vanguard; quiet for the most part with the odd noise complaint, or someone asking to be let back into the laundry room because they just had to finish their delicates at midnight. The odd homeless person stumbles by the doors and I can feel them staring at me out of the corner of my eye. They give little trouble and can be moved on with a dollar or a threat of a phonecall to the police. Drunk residents may come back later and chat about their night for a while, keeping me awake at least. The New York Times delivery guy will stop by at around 3 in the morning to drop off papers for the residents. The Wall Street Journal lady will stop by around 5 to do the same. After my break at around 4, I’ll step outside, have a cigarette and get a coffee, three hard boiled eggs and a butter roll. It has been the same routine for about a year and a half now and it’s not too bad. My sleep schedule is all over the place but sure look, it’s quiet work.
The building comes alive again at around 6 AM. Certain residents leave much earlier then others but it is usually this time of the morning that people leave to go to the gym, others leave for work, personal trainers arrive for other residents and me and the porter on duty start to realise that we’ll soon be free of work for another day.
This happens every Monday and Tuesday night and today is no different, with one slight exception. This is my last night shift as a concierge at the Vanguard Chelsea.

Your last day at any job can be bittersweet. You are happy to be leaving and hopefully moving on to bigger and better things but a part of you is sad that you won’t see some of the people every day. I am personally delighted to be finishing and getting on with things but I will miss a lot of people that I’ve worked with, along with many residents of the building.

I’m going to miss the guys at the front desk, my brothers in arms. It’s obviously not that serious, but we have each others’ backs. Recently, there was a big shift in management and we were without a super for the last four months. At the front desk, we didn’t care. We knew we had it down and if there were any problems then we would sort it out ourselves.
I’m going to miss Freddy the porter. We’ve worked many a night shift together and shared laughs about the other handymen or porters and their quirks. Plus, he is big into his football, so we had a lovely time watching me slide into a mental breakdown over Mourinho the last six or seven months.

I’m going to miss the guy in the coffee cart who sells me my eggs and coffee on the night shift. I don’t know his name and he doesn’t know mine. We call each other ‘brother’, or ‘boss’, and we are the best of friends. He doesn’t know a thing about my life and I don’t know a thing about his. That is why he was the best man at my wedding.

As soon as I started the job the resident manager informed me that it was fine to be friendly with the residents but you could in no way be actual friends with them. He claimed that it would work against you as some residents may take advantage of you for your kindness and friendship. I quickly saw what he was talking about with some people so I steered clear of them. But, I would say that I was on very good terms with a lot of the residents. I would go as far to say I made a few friends who lived in the building. If not friends, then acquaintances for the future whenever I may return.

Billy and Debbie on the 23rd floor are a fantastic couple. Every evening, Billy and I would talk about what was new on Netflix, Hulu and the like. When we found out that we watched the same sort of stuff, we had to figure out what Debbie could watch with him as she wasn’t fond of gory and dark television! They’re getting married in the near future and I’m delighted for them.
Randy, TIffany and baby Zoe moved out recently but they were a delight. Tiffany and Zoe were constantly happy and Randy was like one of the lads. We’d constantly be slagging each other off, although he had an advantage as I couldn’t keep shouting after him when delivery guys were waiting for me to do my job.
Christine on the 16th floor is hilarious and provided me with company and laughs on dreary Sunday afternoons as I wished I was anywhere else. We’d talk crap about whatever carer she had with her at the time and give out about how slow tourists walk around the city. I know she reads this blog from time to time so Christine, if you see this….BUY A PRINTER AND STOP USING OUR PAPER!!! Jokes, jokes.

There are many other residents who I’ve bonded with over Game of Thrones, theatre, football and most importantly, drinking. I know I won’t miss the crazier, more pedantic residents but I’ll look back on my time here fondly. I made some money, some memories and learned a lot about myself. I came to New York to figure out what I wanted to do with my life and this building and the night shifts gave me the time to do that. If I wanted, I could stay here and become a resident manager and live in New York for the rest of my life, and maybe that’ll happen because who knows what will happen, but I doubt it. I’ve done the job and am happy that I’m finishing, but I will forever hold the Vanguard dearly in my heart.

Anal Beads

Part 2 of the Instagram Sessions, coming to you live from a secret location in Chelsea. Today, I delve into the history of a topic brought to my attention by a delinquent friend of mine, who I will not name today. Amidst all the lovely suggestions of writing about beer, Doon G.A.A. and mental health, a certain someone suggested writing about anal beads. I originally planned to have the title in all caps and just write “NO”, under the heading and that would be it. I’d get a laugh out of it and maybe others would get a cheap laugh too. I’ve since thought about it and yes, I will write your post. I’ll play your silly game by my rules.

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This reporter is delighted to bring you an exclusive story fresh from the international creative scene. The American National Artist Liaison, founded in 1975 by Hugh Jass, has announced a partnership with Binge Eating and Excessive Drinking Session ltd, founded in 1993 by Richard ‘Dick’ Butt. The aim of this partnership is to send artists from ANAL to the European headquarters of BEEDS in Dublin to examine the Irish relationship to excessive drinking, binge eating and then drinking again to get over the fear. ANAL and BEEDS have flirted in the past with regards to a similar venture but this time there was no pussyfooting around. Straight in, as Hugh Jass said at the press conference in Anus, France.
“We don’t want to be behind the times,” said Dick Butt. “We want to dive straight in, as Hugh just said, but gently. It’s not like starting a lawnmower. You have to be gentle with the Irish lads, or the beeds as I call them. They might have severe cases of the fear or man flu, and we feel deep in our guts that the artists from America can showcase the plight of the Irish male and his need to binge eat and drink.”
“We are setting up centres for the artists all over Ireland and America. Muff, Co. Donegal and Slickpoo, Idaho, will be our two main thought-centric and idea-haven places where the artists and subjects can get together and really get to the bottom of what’s going on with us males.”
“We’re really excited about this,” continued Jass. “When I made Dick my no.2 on this project I had a feeling that it would all go well. We know that it sounds outlandish. I mean, when you think of the two companies, do you really think anyone will volunteer for this project. Surprisingly, many people did, even outside the businesses. The two main centers in Muff and Slickpoo, as well as numerous support centres in other towns in the two countries, will host hundreds of Irish males in the throes of the fear, as well as artists from across the states who will be attempting to depict our unique ability to soldier on through the fear and the gut you accumulate from a day’s drink, only to do it all again.”

The project will officially be launched in Poo in Spain, allowing the artists and the subjects one last session to tear the arse out of it, but gently.

This has been Cian Dalton, reporting for Rambling House News, on the ANAL BEEDS partnership of 2069. Slan go foill.

Big Brother is Watching

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Looking back on a wonderful year (so far), I can reveal that I have almost no regrets. I’ve had my fair share of fun, visited places I’ve never been, made new friends and caught up with old ones. The only regrets I do have are tied to social media and my tendency to forget to write back to people. I have a built-in function to receive a text, read it in full, process what I will say back to that person and then put the phone down and carry on with my life without completing the interaction. It’s happened so often that I jokingly say to myself, “Jaysus you’d forget your head if it wasn’t screwed onto you, hah! You forgetful prick! How can you treat people who want to interact with you like this? You’re going to be alone because everyone replies to each other and you don’t have the decency to even send a thumbs back. Why in the name of all that is good and holy do you even bother talking to people if you’re not going to message them back? I hate you! I can’t stand being your voice of reason because you won’t respond. You sicken me, and more than anything, I pity you. Go on now, go and watch Parks and Rec for the fourth time and forget to RSVP to your cousins’ birthday party.” In an unrelated note, my subconscious is a dick! Great singer, though.
The point is, social media and social sites have allowed us to keep in touch with what is happening in the world at any given moment. Not only that, we willingly give our personal data and money to sites that have publicly admitted to using our data illegally. We can also keep in touch with each other 24/7. Big Brother is watching, and so it seems is everyone else.

Snapchat allows us to see when messages are opened.
Instagram allows us to see when messages are seen.
Messenger allows us to see when people are online/read a message/are typing a response.
iMessage sends read receipts and shows when someone is typing.
Whatsapp shows two blue ticks when a message is read and allows you to see if that person is online.
Viber does the same thing.

These features are fantastic for a number of reasons.

Families can interact internationally without paying exorbitant amounts of money to call.
Group messages make planning nights out and events easier. The same can be said for projects in college.
Meme growth has never been higher! Send your memes now!
Catch ups with old friends has never been easier.
This is starting to sound like a click-bait ad.
Drunk message your ex: You won’t believe what will happen next!

While these are all fantastic upsides to instant contact around the world, we have lost an element of the past that I still hold dear, sometimes without even knowing what I am doing. There used to be a time when you could just say a rhyme and wouldn’t have to worry about one of your people dying….what the fuck just happened? I couldn’t stop the nostalgic flowback to Toy Soldiers. Spooky.
Anyways, before our time, people weren’t so accessible. The advent of smartphones and technology has made us slaves to our phones and slaves to acknowledgement. As soon as a message is sent to us it pops up on our screens. You can delay in replying or even opening it but not forever. Eventually you will have to read the full message and reply back that you will definitely be at the event, or let the person know when you will be in town next, even if you have no intention of doing so. That’s another aspect of instant gratification by way of smartphones. Ghosting and backing out at the last second has increased dramatically in the last few years because instead of agreeing to a time and place and showing up, you now have this handy little tool in your hand that you can send messages on mere hours or minutes before the event where you can back out. Fantastic.

The reason I am rambling on about this is because I am guilty of leaving people on read. I have done this wothout meaning to but I still feel bad afterwards. I feel bad because I have let a friend down and not contacted her when she was new to the city. I feel bad because I let another friend down and didn’t message him back for weeks. I let my cousin down by not letting her know I couldn’t make her son’s birthday party. I let myself down because it’s not polite to ignore people, whether it is intentional or not.
At the same time though, I value my space and if I don’t message you back right away just let me know. If I ignore you after constant messaging it is best just to leave me be. I’ve moved on.

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I’ve been called many things in this short life of mine. Handsome. Devilishly handsome. Stupidly handsome. Champion. Concierge extroardinaire. The King of Prussia. A poor man’s Prince Harry. A rich man’s Jesse Plemons. A premium athlete. Spartacus. Almost All-Star hurling wing-back of the Junior Shield competition in New York. The King of Prussia again. But to call me a bad texter and a bad friend would be erroneous. Please don’t be facetious when dealing with me. It borders on malevolence. I do truly apologise for the hurt I’ve caused over the years.

Whiskey: A Tribute

A few weeks ago I asked my friends on Instagram to suggest me some topics to write about. I assured them that I would write about them all, and while I intend to keep that promise, there were a few outlandish ideas that I will have to leave stew for a while. A good friend of mine and fellow local beer connoisseur, Ultan, suggested whiskey. I knew this had to be my first one of the Instagram stories. Writing about dating, politics, mental health and other serious topics can wait. The golden brown elixir was the most serious of them all.

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My first experience with whiskey was probably much the same as most other Irish teenagers. Someone’s older brother or sister bought us cans and naggins in the offie and we drank them in fields or at house parties. While it was a chore to get to the field or the house party with alcohol undetected, they really were simpler times. You and your childhood friends were all getting horrendously drunk at the same time, often for the first time. Being drunk was just dizziness and absolutely everything being funny.
Bushing started out with naggins of Huzzar vodka and cans of Bulmers. After a while I started drinking naggins of Jack Daniels mixed with club orange. Someone said that would make it nice. The liary bastard.
After a few years, once we were all of legal age we would sometimes get a shot of Jack at the bar or possibly a Jack and Coke. We felt so grown up. Drinking whiskey at a bar! Oh, how sophisticated of us. What’s that? Cian’s getting sick with his head in the urinal on the night of his girlfriend’s eighteenth? What a mature young man.

I was actually put off whiskey for a while, not when I got sick in a urinal, surprisingly, but when my buddy Lar, in college, drank a shoulder of Queen Margot one night in the first few weeks of first year. I’ve never seen a man as drunk. Lar’s one of my best friends and that man can put away tens of pints and shots in a night but the whiskey awoke some drunken beast in him. If I still had the photos of what you did to that poor car, Lar! Hahahahaha, all jokes.
Funnily enough, Lar drank another shoulder of whiskey two years later and told me and the lads that he loves us, so there you see the beauty of the two-sided coin that is whiskey.

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It wasn’t until I was finished college and having no clue what to do with my life that I started having the odd Jack and Coke again. I was in a bit of a funk, perhaps and started going mad on the whiskey, then, eventually graduating to Jameson on the rocks. My brother will tell you, there were a few nights in the Old Oak on Oliver Plunkett street a few months before I moved here when I got a bit rowdy on the aul whiskeys. Arguing with and shouting at bartenders and bouncers, getting kicked out, only to go back in the next weekend and do it all again. I’m lucky I wasn’t beat up and down Cork city. I’m lucky I’m tall!
Again, I took a break from the whiskey. I wasn’t really ashamed of my actions because gosh darnit if they had just given me my drink then none of that would’ve happened. I did realise that I was drinking a bit much and that a break from whiskey and Cork might be a good idea. So I decided to move to Woodlawn! Hahahaha it’s like the geographical pot calling the kettle black.
I did go fairly wild there at the end of last summer. And I have continued to go wild since but less often, and I like to think with more dignity. I haven’t woken up in an ambulance or smashed my head off the ground after a night on the whiskey neats in a year. I’m genuinely proud of that.

Once I realised that it wasn’t whiskey’s fault and that I was culpable for my own actions, I went back on the golden sauce. I love a Tullamore Dew on the rocks when I’m off, and I have a few bottles of whiskey stored nearby my bed in case of emergency. I just love whiskey. It has been an on-off relationship but right now it is most definitely on.
I’m over Vodka. I’m over Jaegar. I’m over tequila. I’m definitely over Sambucca. I’m over rum and Captain Morgan’s and the like. I’m still very much in love with beers. I’ve drank em solid for the last eight years. I’ve drank all the other spirits for the same amount of time and the only one that I still have a place in my heart for is all the different types of whiskey.
So give me a Jack and Coke and a shot of Jamo on the side. Give me and Ultan two Tully Dews on the rocks there Charlie when you get a chance, please. I’ll try a scotch tonight sure, why not. Keep the Glenfidditch away from me, it costs an arm and a leg. One glass of Teachers, Midleton, what have you, won’t hurt. You’ll have your best nights, fights, dances and deep meaningful conversations on whiskey.

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In fact, legend has it that the Brazilian art of dance-fighting, Capoeira, was actually invented by a Corkman, Dessie Fitz, after he stumbled into a favela after a stag, drunk on Irish whiskey, and was stuck in limbo between a great dance and a great fight.

Thanks for having me, tip your bartenders, waitresses and your doormen! You’ve been fantastic!

5 absolute bangers you may have forgotten about

Bit of absolute shite pandering ‘journalism’ today! I was carrying out my morning ritual (coffee, cry, poo) and opened YouTube to see Clean Bandit had a new video out for a new song. They are always a good shout for a catchy tune and they always get someone well known or currently trending to sing their tunes. This time, her name was Marina. It struck a memory chord in my head as I reached back to my teenage years to try and place her. The name was so familiar. After much toing and froing I remembered an artist that had a hit or two a while back and then almost disappeared from the mainstream media, or at least my timelines. I’m sure that many people still listened and watched out for new songs. I, however, consigned her to the recent history books. I’m here to refresh your memories with 5 bangers that you might have forgotten about, starting with Marina and the Diamonds.

Marina and the Diamonds – Primadonna
This song is only six years old. What the fuck? I definitely thought that it was at least ten years old. Although, now I think about it, I definitely remember psyching myself up the few months in school before the dreaded Leaving Cert by blasting this full volume in the morning. I gave the bathroom mirror some stellar renditions of “Primadonna Girl” that summer. While the lyrics themselves are completely foreign to me and the song is definitely aimed at the opposite gender, for those four minutes, I really am a Primadonna Girl. And you better believe I gave the bathroom mirror in my current house the same show. Absolute TUNE!

She Hates Me – Puddle of Mudd
I can’t remember the first time I heard this song. I don’t even know if I’ve listened to it more than a handful of times. All I know is that it is a certified banger and any time I hear it I wish I could grow long hair and mosh out. If I grew my hair out I’d look like a young Krusty the Klown, which is ironically my street name in the Bronx.

C’est La Vie – B*Witched
Ah, no one could forget this but it’s an absolute banger and I hadn’t seen the video in ages. Calling this a work of art would be underselling this piece of film. Just look at the matching jean jackets and denim jeans! It is quite possibly the most ’90s thing I’ve ever seen and I also didn’t realize how sexually suggestive some of the lyrics were. God, I love being Irish. Definitely throwing this on the jukebox next time I’m in the Avenue for Thursday Night Football hahaha.

Breathe – Blu Cantrell ft. Sean Paul
I got an iPod nano for Christmas one year off Santa and went out the next week to get some new, hip music. I, a pasty, ginger, freckled twelve year old, walked into Xtra Vision and walked out with the R n’ B Yearbook, 2006. I was a child who knew no bounds when it came to culture and just lived for music. Just kidding, I had no clue what was on the album but thankfully it introduced me to Sean Paul and his wonderful habit of shouting his name every twenty seconds. This song is an absolute CHOON and is the reason why I have a best selling album in Latin America today.

Tragedy – Steps
Ah, this list could have been a compilation of Irish and British girlbands, boybands, mixed bands and so on and so forth. Sugababes almost made it in with Push the Button, and Girls Aloud were close enough too. Just a few decades worth of songs you want to throw on at 2:30 in the morning, absolutely off your face on whiskey-gingers, quickly throwing away your freshly lit cigarette as you hear the opening notes to Keep On Movin’ by Five blast from the DJ’s speakers.
Tragedy made it in because the video is hilarious, you would definitely sing along if it came on the radio and I hope that for humanity’s sake, we forget about it as soon as this post is a week old. Enjoy.

I’ve actually laughed so much writing this. Video after video of pure cheese has just been watched on my laptop. I couldn’t be happier. These bangers just put me in a fantastic mood. To be fair, as much as I might mock them in this post, every person in the videos looked like they were having great craic. Except for Puddle of Mudd. They were thick some girl wasn’t giving them the ride.
Honorable mentions go to Halo, by Beyonce. Everyone should remember every single song of Bey’s, but that one is my personal favourite. Promiscuous by Nellie Furtado and Timbaland was also almost there. Probably more of a banger than Tragedy but this is my blog, and that’s all that matters. Funny anecdote actually, I was in Tijuana, promoting my album and I bumped into Nelly Furtado. She congratulated me on my wonderful blend of Irish folk and Latin energy. I asked her what she was doing in Mexico. She told me she didn’t know where her soul was, or her home. It was a weird interaction but one that I will hold dear to my heart for the rest of my life.

The Bodyguard – Review

The long awaited sequel to the 1992 smash hit starring Whitney Houston and Kevin Costner has finally come to Netflix. Kevin Costner reprises his role as the bodyguard as he goes on the rampage against street drugs. Cillian Murphy takes on the role of Bobby Brown in a highly controversial piece of casting, while modern technology continues to wow us as Whitney herself is brought back to life through holograms and CGI. Disclaimer: none of that is true and I apologoise to any Whitney fans who take offense.

Bodyguard aired originally on BBC One earlier this year to rave reviews. Richard Madden of Game of Thrones fame is PS David Budd, an ex-soldier suffering from PTSD who foils a suicide bomb attack on board a London-bound train. He is promoted to be a Personal Protection Officer for Julia Montague, Home Secretary and a politician who promotes the very war that ailed his mental health. She is attempting to introduce a new bill that allows the British armies to go on the offensive against countries deemed a threat of terrorism. Or something like that. I don’t pay attention to all the intricate bills and laws in tv shows. My minds on other things, like food and football.

There is an uproar in the public due to this forthcoming bill and as a result, several attempts are made on the Home Secretary’s life. Buds foils a few of these, drawing him closer to Montague and adding a romantic, dangerous element to their professional relationship. However, not is all as it seems. Montague seems to be involved in several dodgy dealings, some including her bodyguard, while Budd himself seems to be tied to these assassination attempts. Every character is in danger and most characters are suspects.

I won’t give away any major plot points. I do highly recommend the show. It is only six episodes long at around an hour apiece, with the final episode running at an hour and fifteen. From the very first scene the tension is palpable and it doesn’t really let up at all. After Budd and Montague become involved in the second episode we see the extent of the main characters acting abilities. Madden is exceptional throughout as the suffering veteran who struggles to decide whether he can stick to his job of protecting the secretary or if he should care what happens to her at all. Montague is played by Keeley Hawes. She is probably best known for her role on Ashes to Ashes, but she is fantastic here. At times charming and warm and at other times cold and calculated, she is always brilliant, even when she struggles to cope with a fresh attempt on her life.Sophie Rundle, of Peaky Blinders game, plays Budd’s estranged wife Vicky, and although she doesn’t get a hell of a lot of screen time she does well as the confused but heroic love interest.

My only problem with the show is the ending. Amidst all the twists and turns the writers seem to have gone with a bit of a cop out. I didn’t see it coming but I wasn’t impressed. I still thought the show was amazing but the final reveal is a let down. Be warned but have a watch anyways. It is on American Netflix!

Chill the Beans guys

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It’s all getting a bit serious, isn’t it? No matter where you look these days there’s another scandal, uproar or incident. Political movements dominate the headlines online and in print. The advent of social media has driven the amount of movements sky high and social issues have taken hold of the front pages and are first on every timeline. It is truly an amazing time to be alive. It is so refreshing to see so many different viewpoints on many different ideas and situations. In a world where many see social media as having a negative impact on our mental health, and it often does, it also keeps us in touch with what’s happening 24/7. There is obviously an undercurrent of people who revel in just being dicks, basically, and want to bring people down with cyber bullying. They send death threats, actively despise people who are not the same as them and make people’s lives a living hell. They hate that people can be whoever they want to be in this day and age. If you are a man who wants to be a woman or vice-versa, or if you are a homosexual, bisexual, pansexual, or whatever sexual, some people just simply don’t like it. And instead of being a half-decent person and letting people get on with their lives, they make it their mission to go and post hateful things online.
The most sickening thing, however, is that because of the vitriol they spew, these people are highlighted and their points are amplified through the media-verse. A certain president of a certain superpower does anything but help things with his constant posting and lies concerning immigrants, gun laws, and now, ‘bomb’ stuff. There were literal bombs delivered to major political figures, news outlets and well-known figures over the last few days and Trump and his supporters find ways to blame the political side of the people who were affected. It’s madness.

In this current climate you can’t escape the events of the world. Sure, you can deactivate your accounts and switch off your devices and just take a step back. You see it all the time with Insta models. They take four or five day breaks from posting from the stress of it all. Obviously, they are stressed because of their constand need for a certain quota of likes, loves, comments and shares. Some people take breaks from social media because they can’t hack watching everybody’s constant optimism and success. It’s okay to take breaks and look after yourself. But it’s also okay to realise that despite the seriousness of it all, we all lead our own lives.
I mean, look at this post I’m writing. I originally intended to write, “It’s all getting a bit serious, isn’t it?”, and then go on a funny rant about things that are serious that shouldn’t be. I will write that too, someday soon, but this post derailed into another commentary on social media and people getting riled up. In related news, I found out this morning that Ali is apparently being removed from the Simpsons because of people getting annoyed that he is a racist depiction of Indian Americans. Where were ye for the last 20 years! Goosfraba, goosfraba.

I’ve never been enamored by politics and once voted for a Fianna Fail candidate because she was a bit of a ride. That’s sexist, I now know through the glory of twitter but I honestly don’t care. It’s just too serious now. It’s always been serious. The world is too serious. I can’t watch a feckin’ tv show now without worrying whether its racist, homophobic or insensitive to something. I’m tired of it all.
I’m going to stick to the humour and hope it sticks. I’ll be going to school for journalism in the new year and can’t wait to start my career in movie and sports reviews. It won’t change the world but at least I’ll be able to actively turn a blind eye to all the serious stuff. Hopefully. Oh God I hope so.

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

There have been plenty of changes over the past couple of months in the upper echelons of the company I work for. A guy I worked with on the overnight shift went back to Slovakia and told me that change was-a-comin’. Then he drifted into the wind as he waited for a cab on 6th Ave. The first known casualty of Thanos’ regime. But no, he knew of some changes coming in the following months as his brother is a super and had an inside ear on the gossip. And he was right. A lot of managers and execs left and went to another building management company for a whole host of reasons. Obviously there’s more to it than that but I am not willing to divulge any classified information on this. I’ve already said too much. They will be coming for me soon.
I’d love to be a whistleblower and go on a documentary where they blur my face and lower my voice. Then, at the end, I’d get up and say, “Anyways, sound, I’ll meet you for pints later down the town, I think this will sort out the rampant problems in this industry or my name’s not Cian Dalton”, and I’d give away my identity. A simple dream, but it is one I want to happen.
Anyways, the whole changing of the guard had me worried for a minute about whether it would affect me and my coworkers in anyway. This in turn had me thinking about all the changes that had gone on in mine and my friends lives over the past couple of years, whether it be jobs, partners, education and the rest. How does one prepare oneself for change and then deal with the aftermath? How does one adapt to a new place? How does one allow oneself to open up to a new partner? How does one start over again in a new job while they figure themselves out? Tough times.

New Jobs

Starting a new job is always a nerve-wracking experience. Once again you have to introduce yourself to everyone and give the same introduction dozens of times over. It doesn’t matter if you’ve been working in retail for yonks or working behind a bar for years; you have to get to know the system people have in place and be as genuinely nice as possible for as long as you can. Accept everyone’s help and take it all in. Get to know who the annoying pricks are and who are the sound ones. Get to know what makes your amnager impressed and succeed on that for as long as possible. But know also when to stand your ground and stob being the ‘new guy/gal’.
I let one guy be an asshole to me for a couple of weeks longer than I should because I thought it was all banter. Then he shouted at me for taking too much cold water from the water dispenser, which is connected to the pipes of the building. So there would never be a shortage of cold water. I told him to take a fucking break with the shit and find someone else to listen to his shit. I disliked him for a while but now we are firm friends and he’s my Best Man for my wedding so….that’s life.

Partners

A change in one’s lovelife will have major effects on the rest of one’s life, especially as the relationship progresses. Sometimes it can just be a fling and both parties involved know that. Ideal. Sometimes you don’t know where the relationship is going but you like the person and want to see what happens, which can also be ideal as long as feelings aren’t too hurt when it ends. Sometimes a relationship can feel so real and true but for some reason it doesn’t work out and you don’t know why and it hurts. But that’s showbiz baby. Sometimes you meet someone and it seems fantastic but you know it can’t last because you are moving halfway around the world. And that’s fairly shit. But sure look, life isn’t that short and technology is wondrous. Keep in touch with them.
I’ve been single for ages and love it. I want to live all over and couldn’t go getting involved with a young one without deciding three months later that I’m going to live in Germany for a while. And I couldn’t do long distance. I’m terrible at keeping in touch with my friends long distance. That poor fictional girl wouldn’t stand a chance with me!

Education

This is a tough one to talk about change, really. The majority of young people in the developed Western world experience the sharp change between being molly-coddled by teachers and parents in secondary/high school to living away from home and being left to their own devices for the most part in third-level education. People can still get away with doing the bare minimum in college but further education such as a Masters or a Doctorate requires the full discipline and attention of the student.
I am going to attempt to rectify my lazy ways before I start my Masters but I put the bare minimum in in college, passed with an O.K. QCA (GPA for you Yanks), but I know I could have done so much better. I have no regrets with my time in U.L. I had the best craic with some of the best people but I know I can do better academically. So I would recommend to enjoy the freedom of college but for God’s sake don’t just sink into it. Do your work and realise you are building your future with hungover, rollie-stained hands.

Everything Else

You can literally take anything life throws at you in a, ‘roll with the punches’ vibe if you put your mind to it. Except tragedy and death. That’s a whole subject that I’m lucky to not have truly experienced first hand. I would never tell anyone who has suffered how to go about dealing with it. But all of the above and everything else, just remember that you are a worthwhile individual who can deal with this new stress and turn it into a positive situation. Ride the positive waves, men and women. #Believe #don’t@me

The Doorman’s Daytime – Week 3

The one constant thing in a night shift doorman’s daytime is the easy access to programs on every streaming device, as well as movies, podcasts and articles. The odd sleep schedule that accompanies the job is a tad annoying. The reduced time you get to spend with friends is another grievance but once you are engrossed in a new show you stop feeling sorry for yourself and continue to vegetate. Episode after episode is consumed. Season after season is watched through increasingly aching eyes. You should really take a break, or at least use your phone for something more productive, but that’s too much effort. The only time legs are used are to swing your arse from the couch to the other part of the couch so your back doesn’t hurt anymore. Enough about my Tuesdays!
This week, I started going to the gym again. All summer long I used the excuse of the GAA season to not stay active. I played a handful of games and skipped the rest for work. So I decided that enough was enough and that I would eat healthier and cut out the eating out. The drawback to this increase in activity is the lack of time for binge-watching T.V. shows and movies. I can’t concentrate on podcasts when I exercise so I listened to Eminem’s new album.Let me tell you, that guy is angry! I didn’t watch as much this week because of this. I also didn’t read as much because I left my bag with all the books I’m currently reading in a friend’s house after an almighty session. I did use my night shifts to binge a few things instead of working. So let’s have a look.

Bojack Horseman (Season 5)

I couldn’t remember much of the specifics of the first four seasons of Bojack because I binged them all separately and never together. I loved the show before and remembered the basics; Bojack is an asshole who sometimes redeems himself but always manages to ruin his life and other people’s lives; Diane is the book smart friend who may or may not have feelings for Bojack while being with someone else; Todd is the zany, typical comic relief who slowly develops into a rounded character; Princess Carolyn is the unlucky in love agent turned manager who can’t have kids while always batting for Bojack. I was not prepared for how much of their awful, sad lives that I couldn’t remember would come flooding back as I watched.
It is a truly fantastic show that is tough to watch because each episode packs a lot of jokes and comedy around a seismic gut-punch of emotional growth or regression in a character. The fourth season especially dives into Bojack’s childhood and his mother’s reasons for being cold and unloving. It was tough to binge that season because, while the episodes were marvellous and some are ranked in the top echelons of IMDbs top rated episodes, each one left me feeling emotionally drained.
Season 5 is no different. I’ll have to watch it through again to fully appreciate the season. The writers pull no punches, really plumming the depths to which we, the viewer, are willing to go to keep rooting for Bojack. He is plagued by demons even more so in this fifth outing and his past indiscretions are coming back to the surface.
Princess Carolyn spends the season putting out more fires and trying to adopt a baby. Diane and Mr. Peanutbutter have split up and are trying to wade through life without each other. Todd, now crashing on Princess Carolyn’s couch, finds himself in another wacky adventure as one of the top dogs at a website that tells people the time. This show is just fantastic.
Special mention goes to Episode 6, “Free Churro”. The entire twenty-five minutes is just Bojack delivering a heart-wrenching eulogy at his mother’s funeral. Television gold.

Crazy Rich Asians

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I do love a good rom-com. I enjoy the comedy, the always over the top endings and the soundtracks. Movies like About Time, Me Before You and Love, Rosie are some of my favourite movies of all time. They have interesting plots and are just the right amount of corny and cringy. That’s why I was surprised that I didn’t like this movie. The cast are all generically handsome or beautiful; there were sad English songs sang in Mandarin/Chinese; one of the climactic scenes was so over the top it as surreal. Despite all that, it just wasn’t good. The dialogue was clunky, the plot kind of raced along without a whole heap of context and the conflict between the two leads seemed forced. That being said, the aforementioned over the top scene was absolutely fantastic.
Funnily enough, I used to watch Glee, up until the fourth season when the show about an unbelievably diverse group of teenagers running around and singing and dancing in public became unbelievable. Harry Shum grew into one of the main characters. I had seen he was going to be in this movie and he was promoting it pretty heavily online. The prick wasn’t in the actual movie, only a mid-credits scene that apparently sets up two sequels. I was fully sure I just hadn’t seen him on screen.*
So, anyways, the movie is not bad but it is not a great rom-com. I do think it is important for movies of other cultures to be seen in the Western World and I am probably in love with Gemma Chan so that was a plus. But I wouldn’t pay $14 again to just enjoy a wedding scene.
*Disclaimer: I was high as a kite watching this movie so it very well could be an absolute masterpiece hahahahaha

Following up on last week, I didn’t finish Jack Ryan. It just got too much for me. They kept going on about a second 9/11 and I thought there would be more of John Krasinsky and less troubled military guys. I’ll try and finish it this week. We’ll see. I might let ye know. Happy watching!

The Doorman’s Daytime – Week 2

The Emmys took place this past Monday and it seems that streaming services have definitely taken the crown for television viewing. Netflix, Amazon Prime and HBO swept the awards, the only awards for actual network television coming from late night talk shows and reality TV. Although SNL got a few awards which I am happy about.
There can be no real argument against this rise of streaming. Fantastic shows such as The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (haven’t watched it), Barry (haven’t watched it) and Godless (didn’t finish it) garnered multiple awards through their acting talent. In fact, if you look through the list of winners from the night you will see that most shows, nominees and winners are an “Original” from a webite or streaming service. Actors are getting drawn to the quality projects that sites such as Netflix, Hulu and Prime produce. They’re probably getting compensated pretty well for it at the same time.
The irony of it all is that broadcast television just aired their biggest loss of the war yet. Despite shows such as Game of Thrones, Westworld and Succession garnering viewers in real time as the show is first aired, a la broadcast television, the majority of users view the shows on demand. There are even plenty of Irish shows on these sites also. I’ll review these next week.
Anyways, after that diatribe, let me tell ye what I’ve been watching this week. Yes, they were all through streaming services.

The Good Place

This comedy offering had been sitting in my Netflix list for months. I didn’t see the appeal based on the twenty seconds I watched of the trailer. Nothing was tickling my fancy one day so I threw it on and binged the two seasons in two days. It is nothing short of a masterpiece. Created by Michael Schur, who wrote episodes of the Office, Parks and Rec and Brooklyn 99, it blends drama, philosophical questions, mad fantasy and superb comedy into one unreal show.
It stars Kristin Bell as Eleanor Shellstrop, a woman who wakes up in ‘the good place’, ie ‘Heaven”. The only thing is, she has been mixed up with another woman of the same name who was of much purer character. Hilarity ensues. The show stars Ted Danson as an ‘architect’, or angel, and he is definitely the funniest character in the show.
The rest of the cast are impeccable. Adam Scott, Dax Shepard and Maya Rudolph appear in guest roles throughout the series. Jameela Jamil, Manny Jacinto, William Jackson Harper and D’Arcy Carden make up the rest of the main cast and while you may have not heard of most of them, they are all hilarious and perfect for their roles.
I would recommend watching this as soon as possible because season 3 premieres on Netflix the 27^th of this month. Get to watchin’ and don’t be chillin’ while doin’ it ya sick pervs.

Jack Ryan

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Amazon Prime has been advertising the hell out of this eight part thriller based on Tom Clancy’s novel of the same name. It seems to have made its mark with over 140 countries around the world streaming the show. The show focuses on CIA analyst Jack Ryan who is drawn into the world of active anti-terrorism, showing he is much more than a desk-jockey.
John Krasinsky plays the titular character. He directed and starred in the horror hit of the year, A Quiet Place, but is better known by millions around the world for his role as Jim in the American Office.
The show itself is action packed with many twists and turns, but that is to be expected. It’s not as action packed as I’d like, however. The dialogue that takes place whenever the terrorist leader Suliman is on screen is brilliant and the tension is palpable. Krasinsky doesn’t feature half as much as we were led to believe in the trailers, a lot of screen time being given to the villain’s story.
This show is bound to draw criticism for apparent Islamophobia and inciting hatred given the subject matter. I would disagree, given that it paints the Americans and Europeans in just as bad a light. The world can no longer be painted in black or white as everybody’s motives are drawn into question.
Jack Ryan is worth a watch but I wouldn’t go subscribing to Amazon Prime just because of the show.

White Boy Rick

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White Boy Rick tells the story of Rick Wershey Jr., a teenage drug kingpin in Detroit in the mid 1980s. The film charts his rise from a gang associate to drug lord between the ages of 14 to 17, as well as the FBI coaching him on how to drugdeal and snitch while paying him. The film depicts the hard and cold nature of Detroit in that decade, especially for Rick, who must deal with his runaway drug addict sister, his father who wastes his time selling guns and thinking of his video-store business, the FBI who keep hounding him to sell drugs and obtain information for them and an increasingly suspicious gang leader who may have it in for our titular character.
Hollywood heavyweights Matthew McConnaughey, Bruce Dern and Jennifer Jason Leigh lend the star power to this one but Richie Merritt, who plays Rick, is a future star and is definitely a new force to be reckoned with.
It is a very good movie that could have used a bit more action in the final third, but well worth the money for a watch.