Sunday, January 27, 2002



Some people, i think do not know what they got till its gone. Some people, for instance, never EVER thank me for increasingly frequent electronic correspondence they recieve from me, even when i spend many hours typing said correspondence when i should be studying. Some people, who ring from Wales in the wee hours of the morning and with whom i converse for many moments on a windy chip- shop corner, neglect to mention how my witty and urbane emails have made a certain Welsh- educated Irish girl feel loved and special, when she is wintering out in some far flung recess of grotty Wales.

As i said, some people dont know what they got till its gone and i intend to remove any ungrateful and uncomplimentary subscribers from my address book unless i am duely praised and thanked. I have said my peace, i will say no more.

Today, my friends, is Sunday, the Lords day. Besides being a non attender of mass, i am an intensely spiritual person. I am often to be found staring out a window at God's wonderous nature and have been known to remark on moral and theological issues to my friends and families. Admittedly, these usually take the form of
"Sally [my sister], you look like a tramp, you cant wear a miniskirt to the shops!"
or perhaps
"Jesus Christ, who put that there?!"
but the point is that such thoughts are always with me.

Sunday is a day that i insist be kept sacred, and i always refrain from studying on a Sunday, instead to choosing to reflect on my thoughts and ponder my existence. The odd Sunday i spend enjoying a few quiet bevvies with some chums, but on the whole i withdraw from the grind of daily life. Or, la vie quotidienne as the French say.

Where am i going with this you might say? I too ask that same question. In all honesty, i have very little to say this evening and i just thought id start writing and see what came out. Very little of meaning, as it happens.

Thanks for mentioning me.
-Lynne Kirby, friend
Hee hee, you little minx you!
-Deirdre Treacy, friend
Lucy are you doing a BA in dossing and Burger Kings?
-Lorraine Cooney, friend
Well done for correctly representing the life of an arts student! Cant wait to see what f**k ups you do on Rag Week!
-Liz Kelleher, friend
No comment.
-Celia O'Meara, non-apreciative person
Ah, it has been a quiet week for this stalwart favourite! I did fall down a few steps when i was coming down the stairs from upstairs in a bus, but as my head banged into the wall i managed to fall backwards a little so no one saw me, and thus saving myself from certain mortification.
The worst thing i think was when i was getting on bus last Tuesday and in fumbling in my pocket for change, a storm of coins burst forth. (Ah, those damn Eurpoeans and their money!) What was horrifying however was that the oldest man in the entire world was standing beside me and rushed to pick them up for me, and then HELPED ME ON TO THE BUS!
***New addition!***
Today i have chosen the word 'bust'. I like it because it is more slimline than the overused 'burst' and a terrificly dramatic and shocking to use in a sentence. Also i think its a really cute and funny word, as i am myself.
eg: My head bust open.
The telly is busted.
Bust off with yourself, buster!
Nice, eh?
In the last issue of that luminious and brilliant (two words that mean pretty much the same thing; needless verbiage, its a great way to fill a page!) publication THE LUCY AUGHNEY NEWSLETTER, the editor wishes to apologise most profusely for an inaccuracy stated. In the survey of Dublin Burger King's it was written that the Burger King situated on lower Rathmines road was 'very nice' and equipped with 'clean toilets'. On closer inspection, this Burger King was proven to be a Mcdonalds, and as the editor does not hold with such establishments, she wishes to alter her review to say:
'Complete and utter s**t hole, and filthy scumhole toilets. Really, I think it very suspicious that the place masqueraded as a Burger King just to be mentioned in my newsletter. Most irresponsible of them.'
Thank you and good night.

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