Tuesday, October 26, 2004

Lucy's Guide to Living

Having spent most of the morning in quiet meditation on life and other stuff [other stuff being the reading of The Phoenix and the review section of the Independent from cover-to-cover; this gig is a job in name only], I have come up with a new approach to life. Not merely a set of guidelines, this philosophy for living is so all-inclusive as to be practically a religion. I, naturally, am head and greatest prophet of my new-formed religion. Not too bad for a Tuesday morning!

Up to now, brothers and sisters, I have led a life that could be kindly classified as misguided. If I had a mantra, it could best be described as 'Do whatever you want as long as you can tell funny stories about it at parties'. But like many lost souls, I had to hit rock-bottom to find my way to the top again. Rock bottom came for me as I stood in the Baldy on Saturday night, watching the scenes of revelry and drunken debauchery that is a Saturday night in any licensed premises in Ireland revolve around me. Is this it? I questioned, somewhat in the manner of the Strokes, although less musically adept. Realizing I had reached a crucial stage in my life, I felt it necessary to confirm my suspicions by getting drunk again on Sunday night. Yes, I ascertained, I had been correct in my previous assumption; I was in fact experiencing a spiritual epiphany.

Spiritual epiphanies can be rather tricky to detect. Speaking from my own experience, I can tell you that they feel uncannily like standing up suddenly or like having a few drinks and no dinner. In other words, unusually, unnaturally woozy, rather light-headed and a little nauseous. Mine left me hungover and in desperate need for change in my life. And so I formulated my new credo.

1: Give up drink
2: Give up chocolate and crisps
3: Take long walks every evening to ponder one's life
4: Instead of internally cursing and thinking up ways to painfully murder anyone who skips ahead of me in the queue for the bus, think calming thoughts and radiate inner tranquility
5: Reflect on the joys of housework and spend evenings cleaning parts of home instead of lying on couch watching telly while painting fingernails with yellow highlighter
6: Decide what I wish to do with life, so that, when people ask me 'What's next for you, Lucy?', I will have something to say other than 'Marry a rich man' while laughing feebly
7: Spend more time with friends, even the boring ones like Marie
8: Eat sensible and nutrional meals, instead of starving self until 8pm at night because 'am not very hungry', then gorging oneself on crisps and chocolate. Give up crisps and chocolate entirely. Have I said that already? Mean it this time
9: Read more poetry. Listening to rap doesn't count, even if it does rhyme
10: Buy less books. Instead, join library and read classics. And not just rereading parts of Pride and Prejudice with Mr Darcy in and other books where I quite fancy main male character (ie. Dobbin in Vanity Fair; Sebastian Flyte [despite implied homosexuality] in Brideshead Revisited; Sherlock Holmes; Peter Wimsey in Gaudy Night [and yes, I am aware that it is silly to classify detective fiction as classics!])
11: Practice guitar playing. Saturday night's very public display of misguided narcissim with Gary Kent's guitar was dismal
12: Study for Driver Theory test. Must pass. Anyone want to lend me a book on it?
13: Rinse out drink cans and plastic bottles before putting them in recycling bin instead of burying them under a load of old newspapers.
14: Alter smoking habits until I can stomach the taste of the weird menthol ones Janine smokes. They smell really healthy and minty. Pity the are so vile
15: Learn to spell properly as cannot rely on Word's spellcheck forever
16: Watch intellectual documentaries and educational news programmes on telly, instead of stupid reality shows on MTV and semi-pornographic music videos on TRL
17: Drink more green tea as is apparently cleansing

Seventeen steps to happiness and inner fulfillment! Enriching, I'm sure we all agree. Actually, I just came up with these right now because even though I went to Eason's at lunch, I was unfortunately scared away from the self-help section by the fearsome amount of absolute losers pawing desperately at the shelves. Uh oh;

18: Be less judgmental. Instead, love all mankind. Except Pat Kenny, naturellement

Anyway, I wandered instead into the poetry section and very nearly bought another book of Christina Rosetti poems. Seeing as I have lost two books of her poems already and I only buy them because I am looking for one poem that I can't remember the title of and I am severely strapped in the cash department, I should really know better. Unsurprisingly however, I don't.


Anonymous said...


Lucy said...

Ouch. You cut me deep, my friend.

Linus said...

Well, at least the spelling is correct. Most of the abuse I ever got was done by the functionally illiterate.

Mossy said...

Maybe the anonymous person is Pat Kenny. That seems to be only person who would get insulted by this.

Hey Anonymous! Shut the Fuck up. If you dont want insults don't read the freakin thing.