***THE*LUCY*AUGHNEY*NEWSLETTER***
*News in brief!*
*Mags O'Neill sprains ankle! Considered out of the running to represent Ireland in the next Olympics!
*Marie Connolly announces that if she fails her exams, it will be 'all my own fault'. As opposed to all Lucy's fault because she only manged to get you out of the bed for half of your lectures all year!
*Editor's sister reveals intended outfit for disco! Editor declares 'Youre not going out like that!' Editor's sister responds with 'Fuck off back up to Dublin!' Turbulant times ahead.
*Lucy declares intention to study! Doesnt happen!
*Other stuff happens! Nobody cares cos its not mentioned in Lucy's newsletter!
**Quoth the raven; 'Never More'**
As of 5.32pm this afternoon I am no longer a second year student at University College Dublin. Now, I am a third year.Yes, my friends i am finished forever. Well, except for next year, but as Johnny Logan himself says; whats another year? My final exam was a bit of a moment of insanity (more like three hours of insanity), not particularly helped by a last minute chat with my good bud Meabh about the exam in question;
MEABH: Yeah, im glad i prepared those two back up topics anyway.
LUCY: Back up? Topics? Prepare? I think ive lost you.
The mood was considerably lightened when halfway though some wanker broke his chair and fell off. How we laughed. I laughed a little too long and a little too maelevolently though, i fear. In fact, i am still laughing. Har har.
Now that I am back in the land of the little people, ie. Youse (as they say in Wexford), i am planning to purchase for myself a thesaurus to supplement my word power. The following words have become somewhat overused in my exams.
Political Recognise Trend Accordingly
Social Centralise Development MonetarilyReligious Urbanize Consequentially SubsequentlyEconomic Modernize Paradoxically Realise Socialize Obstensibly and Celibite
Also, have just noticed that I cant spell. Fuck that. I have just worked out that i have written eighteen essays over the last two weeks. Fucking hell, im clever.
**What*would*Dr*Forlano*do?
For all of those of you who are weak of mind (that would be all of you), I have been on the look out for a role model for you to aspire to, when I am not around. I have found that person in the manly frame of Dr.Luke Forlano, Surgical consult. at All Saints hospital. Now, All Saints is a programme on TV3 which just happens to be the greatest thing in the world (All Saints, not TV3).
Do not be alarmed when i tell you it is set in Austrailia- Austrialians have feelings too you know. Dr Forlano is a particurlarly stress prone individual. He is forever getting grief from the older surgeons who think hes not up to the job. His intense view of life is obvious as he stalks up and down the corridors of ward 17, wearing coloured shirts and no tie. Ties are for old men. Also he has a red sports car, a brother in jail AND an earing. COOL or what.
Challenge: Your mother asks you what you intend doing for the rest of your life if you dont intend to do a postgrad. Mother is annoyingly persistant in her questioning.
Dr Forlano's Solution: Order a complete set of a labs, a CAT scan, call psych. and test her urine for drugs. This woman is not well.
Challenge: Your father wonders how you could possibly have spent all your money already, since there is no chance youre going out drinking during your exams. Is there?
Dr Forlano's Solution: This man is gone into arrest, get the crash cart in here! Shock him repeatedly until you regain normal cardiac rythyms. Or not.
Challenge: Your exams are over and youre dead bored cos no one elses are.
Dr Forlano's Solution: Have a tempestuous love affair with a fiesty nurse. Break up cos youre too scared to commit. Experience unrequeited love for another nurse. Reconsider life options.
Oops, Dr Forlano let us down on that last one! Well, his name is Martin in real life, were all human.
**Lucy*Fucks*Up*
It was one of those days. First, the ATM wouldnt give me any money so i had to beat up an old lady to get some. Then I lost Marie in the supermarket and had to put her in the little seat in the fornt of the trolley so she wouldnt run off again. And then, just when the good looking and tall for his age scout packing bags at the checkout handed me my shopping, didnt I knock over his little plastic bucket where he was collecting for tents or a new leg for a child or something.
'Whoa!' he said with a laugh. 'Youre trying to do a runner with our cash, are ya?'
'Ha ha!' I laughed weakly. And then I did run away. Weeping. And slapping my head in a vaguely concussive manner.
**Word*Of*The*Day**
'Study'
The process of learning about a subject by reading, thought, intuition or research. No, I dont get it either.
**Non-patriotic*peoples**
Last Sunday Ms Claire King had the AUDACITY to speak at length about her voyages abroad this coming summer. Oh, i pretended to be interested but all I could think was the cheek, the brazenness, the cockiness of this non- patriotic person. I have tried and tried but i cannot come to terms with those disgusting layabouts who think they can just head off on a trip abroad whenever the mood takes them. And to make matters worse, they are nearly all of them poxy students! What is wrong with our fair Isle that you must leave it whenever you get a few weeks off school? What is lacking in our picturesque hometown of Tramore (by-the-sea) that you must look for satisfaction elsewhere? Nothing, I tell you! I am proud to be Irish and will stay that way, at least until after the Eurovision on Saturday!
**Open*Invitation**
I am officially inviting all of you lovely people to a major fiesta in my lovely Dublin abode this coming Thursday. Please come. No, seriously, come. The two Claires we live with have invited about 15million people and I have invited ...none. Oh, you cant expect much from Marie, she doesnt have any friends anyway, but me? I was so desperate today i nearly asked my invigilator; 'Can i have another rough work page and would you like to go to a party on Thursday?'
So, if any of ye are in the area on Thursday (or even in the country), drop into 121 Merrion Grove, Stillorgan rd, Dublin 4 for a drink and a quick mention to the girls we live with that we are really cool. (see the 4 at the end of my address? Thats cool, that is.)
