"The struggles I'm facing...it's the climb"

I have taken it upon myself to read 100 books which are all considered classics of the literary world before the summer is out. Originally I thought this was going to be an easy task because:
1. I love reading. Anything with any form of script on it and I will read it. I have read cereal boxes, theses and even the Argos catalog.
2. One would assume that the classics would be given that title on the basis of them being the best of the best. Books so thrilling that they have been passed through the generations and put on a pedestal as the hierarchy of the written word.
3. I wanted to prepare myself for university by putting a huge workload ahead of myself. And that I did.


Thirty-six days into summer 2011 and I have read roughly nine of the classics. I have already come to a startling conclusion...they are classically unbearable. Fame in the literary world is most certainly capricious. This is why I was expecting greatness from the likes of George Orwell and Jane Austen as they have had acclaim as great writers for years. As the saying goes...life is full of surprises. 
I thought that maybe I was being overly critical so I asked the most well read person I know, Mummy dearest. She confirmed with conviction that the classics were complete tat. She has a collection of classics which could rival the national library and said that most of them wouldn't even be worth the paper they were written on. 


But why have they become so famous? Why have they been praised since they were published? Why do millions of people claim that they are their favourite books? 


I have come to the conclusion that these books have reached their standing because people use them as a way of gaining respect. Choosing a book like "Wuthering Heights" or "The Mill On The Floss" demands respect and gives the impression that you are of a higher intellect. I think choosing a classic as your favourite book is a form of name dropping in essence. A question which I often ask people is what is their favourite book and if they say something like "Ulysses" or "1984" then I immediately know that they are pretentious and quite noticeably lying. Reading "Ulysses" could be compared to Nazi-style torture and "1984" is a very dull book about conspiracy theories, a solipsistic choice indeed.   


As woeful as my task has been thus far I will continue looking for a true classic. A book which deserves its recognition and its author's place as one of the greatest writers of the English language. Until then I will use the title of my next classic written by Jack Kerouac as a pun: back "On The Road" to the search for the ultimate classic. 

It's Not Over, Not Over, Not Over Yet...Well Yes It Actually Is.

The bane of my life is finally finished. That is right...the Leaving Cert has left the building. To say it was absolutely horrid would be a lie. Okay there were those moments in which I thought that I would never see the 16th of June, that I would never smile again and I thought I had become an insomniac. I had heard all those stories from my Leaving Cert predecessors: 
1. Childbirth is like a sun holiday compared to the Leaving Cert. 
2. It is by far the worst and most exhausting year of your life. 
3.You will experience a "winning the lottery" euphoria at the end of your final exam. 


Well in classic Leaving Cert style: Are the above true or false? 


False, definitely false. 
I can't speak for everyone but I enjoyed my last year at school. I spent the majority of it laughing and joking with all the girls I had grown up with. I was sleep deprived but that had less to do with the big LC and more to do with my new reality TV addiction (if I fail maths those Kardashians are to blame). And finally on Thursday when I finished Biology, I was too sleepy to be euphoric. 
I am certainly not saying that it was like a trip to Disneyland. Those weeks of relentless work before it were laborious, the exams were very boring and I was getting cabin fever from being locked indoors like a prisoner. The most awful part of it all was how it seemed to drain all of fun out of previously exciting people. It was like Leaving Cert of the living dead. The rate of bant was at zero, I have had more fun doing the dishes. 
I seem to have become weirdly lost without it. I have no direction in my life. I am still working on the timeline of my Leaving Cert. I wake up spontaneously at 8am and feel so lazy because I am doing nothing productive. What has happened to me? I went from the queen of procrastination to productivity overdrive. This metamorphosis should please me but I feel uneasy, I liked my old, lazy self. 
I am looking forward to the best summer of my life. Nothing to concern me only where I am going to find my next outfit or when the next episode of Gilmore Girls is on. Then there is Galway, my brand new life as a college student. I absolutely can't wait and I hope it works out how i have been planning...qui vivre verra! 
The urban myth about the Leaving Cert has been proved to be fictitious. It can be filed between carrots make you see in the dark and the Easter Bunny. To all the future LC's may the force be with you and always remember two weeks before is never too late!

"I've got the magic in me..."

Having just returned from seeing "Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows Part One" for the second time, I began thinking about those people who are so delluded and almost psychotic about things like this. I have a seemingly neverending love for Harry Potter but I was thinking were does the fine line between crazy fan turns into just plain crazy. 
I work in a cinema. I have seen many of these "psycho fans" in my time, mostly Twihards who come to the cinema emblazoned in Edward Cullen some even sporting Vampire contacts. I am not talking about just tweens either, middle aged women were at this craic too. I may be biased as my tolerence for Twilight is noticeably lower than Harry Potter but people were coming dressed in Griffindor robes with lightning scars and wands at the ready. I was asking myself at the time (obviously not vocally) are these people for real or am I in a surreal universe?!
I'm not completely cynical, I had the odd fleeting thought of being a wizard and going to Hogwarts but I did not come home from the film pick up a twig from the garden, don a bin bag and run round the neighbourhood shouting "cruccio" at every passing dog. These people really baffle me. I know they exist, I have seen pictures of conventions when they all dress up like the characters and "play" magic spells. This is completely acceptable when you are eleven and buzzed after seeing an amazing film, not twenty looking for someone to talk to that isn't your mum. I note that this isn't the first place I would look for friends at either, I would sooner speed date in a nursing home.
I may be developing a phobia for these people but God help the celebrities in these films. Imagine being Daniel Radcliffe attending a big movie premiere, you are signing some autographs and some woman reaches over the barrier practically sexually assaults you cheek and then screams "I LOVE YOU HARRY" in your face. I can tell you one thing, I would not be sleeping alone or maybe not even sleeping at all. There have often been cases reported that people have encroached on celebrities property and watched them. I know, personally, that really disturbed me. I cannot fathom whatsoever been stalked, having someone who you do not remotely know following you at all times. I mean there are more sensible people in psychiatric wards.
I realise that these people use this fantasy as some sort of escapism as Harry is a classic example of an anti-hero but I think it is time to perform an expelliarmus spell on yourself and take up stamp collecting or something. Let's leave the magic to the professionals.

Trust me, trust me I'm a...?!

Lately, I have been spending most of my days and nights musing over what to spend the rest of  my life doing. A decision of  huge magnitude I am sure you will agree. Since I was the grand old age of 13, I had my heart set on being the staff writer in a teen magazine after finishing my journalism degree at Dublin City University. I was so definite up until now people have taken it as a given, "oh Áine no need to worry about UCAS you know what you are doing with your life." But do I really?
I have been piling up my DCU prospectuses (or is it prospecti?) for years but now Galway is beginning to sound more and more appealing. I think it may be because it is just like Letterkenny in another place and unlike Dublin, I don't expect to be mugged all the time. Naive country outlook, I know. I had my heart set on doing English and Irish in Galway until last night. Jesus, my mind is as changeable as Jedward's popularity. 
I have been, quite coincidentally, watching a lot of films and reading a lot of books about writers. The writers in these stories seem to have been so unflinchingly motivated and knew immediately that their calling was journalism. I would love some Jesus style signal to show me my vocation. This has gotten so bad I have been reduced to disregarding my atheism for some answers. Might as well ask Santa. These tales of journalistic triumph spurred me on for about ten minutes then I got depressed and watched Jeremy Kyle. Somehow Jeremy always makes my life seem better or at least with less hooped earrings and adultery.
The career teachers have been absolutely no help. There is a surprise. They are basically employed to show you how to get onto Qualifax and that's a days work. Either that or babysit the class while we chat and pretend to be intently studing the prospectus for University of Back Ass of Nowhere. I mean some can't even say CAO, that has to be against some career teacher regulations. Most recently, they tried to take the whole of Leaving Cert to our local IT to say thanks for using their computers one time. These people are allowed to influence the future of this country. Dear Yahweh.
The recession has been affecting my choice too, I know you are thinking "eww the recession how cliché" but it really is. The industry of media was severely cut throat before insufficient funds were thrown into the mix. My main concern is that I will work for 3 years and end up with my Bachelor of Arts to keep me company in the dole queue. I had tried to counteract this issue by doing a degree with Irish and English, most people are very ardnosach when it comes to Irish but let's face it the cúpla focal translates to big bucks. I'm not sure about that either since my Irish is shocking. Seems like I have quite the effing dilemma on my hands.
This blog has been my attempt at making some sort of effort towards becoming a writer. Well there is always Mickey D's....