Life's a bastard...but sometimes it lets up

The life and times of an ordinary Dublin girl. Follow her journey as she finds out working from home really ISN'T about watching Oprah all day and that perhaps men aren't really all bastards.

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

One foot in the grave and the other on a banana skin


AS some of you may be aware, it was my birthday last week and sadly I have reached the grand old age of 27.

I had thought that I would be able to keep this ever descending slide into my thirties from you, but Blogger, being the omnipotent being that it is, changed my age on my profile here on the blog, about two seconds past midnight on my birthday, so I am forced to come clean.

My big day was on a Tuesday and as I was working til 9.30pm, I didn’t get to celebrate on that day (apart from the half eaten cake Mammy and Daddy Dunne presented me with, complete with guilty sugar-stained smiles) but I did go out on the weekend.

Dressed to the nines (well, maybe the seven and a halfs) in my black boobylicious Sasha top that I mentioned before, I sallied forth with some childhood girlfriends in tow to a pub and then a club.

Without exception, we were the oldest people in there.

Where do all the people in their mid-20s, early-30s go? And why do bouncers allow young-uns, who should by rights be down the youth centre, into their establishments?

Children, for that is what they were, rolled past us all evening complete with spotty skin, skirts up to their buttocks (ooooh Matron) sqeaky voices and Ben Sherman shirts, locked after downing two vodkas and red bull.

One fella even bore a shiny red rosette and medal from his Confirmation, I swear to God.

I was all for presenting myself to Mountjoy Prison for having inappropriate thoughts about a minor (Confirmation boy was cute) but the music was good so I partied on.

Seriously though, there seems to be an absolute dearth of any people my age when I go out and about, particularly men, so it’s no wonder I’m single!

Am I perhaps merrymaking in the wrong places? Do men and women my age go out to fine wine tasting evenings? Galleries? Museums? Doesn’t anyone go to pubs anymore?

Ah, just like it is with policemen, you know you’re getting older when the guy you have backed up against the fire escape in a club starts to look younger.

Pic www.pocketfactory.com

9 Comments:

At 5:19 p.m., Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hi Kaz

(was on your site last week (feeling poo, much better now))

As someone who has gone over that 30 shaped hill and currently sliding down the other side, maybe you are imagining everyone being really young cos its on your mind? Put it this way, if I met you out I would presume (from your photo) that you are much younger than 27!

Furthermore...

I was in a serious relationship with a lovely girl (and v happy) at 30 and then it all went tits up. I was v sad for ages, then started to feel better (for no apparent reason) and now I go out way way more than I ever did and enjoy it way more for some reason!

Dont be stressing about the age thing - you are a beautiful, very funny (and thats the most important thing I think) young lady. You just gotta go out there and enjoy being the age you are.

And as for the confirmation boy - go for it! Thats at least one way to make you feel a lot younger!

 
At 5:55 p.m., Blogger KnackeredKaz said...

Ah thanks Anonymous! That makes me feel less like a wrinkly oul hag! Maybe I AM imagining they're all really young, so yeah, I'll take your advice and stop stressing out.

Thanks for dropping by again!

 
At 8:38 p.m., Blogger Teenage Kicks said...

If there were good enuf youth centres we'd go...but there's not in my area, unless i convert to being a full blown bible basher, which just isnt happening. xx

 
At 11:18 p.m., Blogger dunner said...

Well said anonymous. Now here is a suggestion, if you think so highly of Knackeredkaz, and you are in the Dublin area, why not come out of your closet of anonmyity and arrange to meet up??

Now that would be taking blogging to another level!!!

Teenage kicks, steer clear of those bible bashers, they are a strange breed.....

 
At 4:39 a.m., Anonymous HG said...

It's all relative, 30 somethings are in the same situ looking at all ye late twenties with yis're boobylicious Sasha tops.
On a serious note do stay away from the Bible bashers clubs, a much safer bet is a night on the town followed by a take away & a hiding...

 
At 5:24 a.m., Blogger Gary said...

My, you are getting old. Maybe you should get yourself a rocking chair.

 
At 7:57 a.m., Anonymous Anonymous said...

Mornin Dunner!

I mentioned to Knackeredkaz last week that I'm pretty new to this blogger scene (man). I had heard of em and had read references to them in newspaper etc but never actually read one!

I came across Mrs Bishop's (now gone sadly) when I was googling something or other and read the whole thing in one day. Then hit her links and starting reading them all (including yours - very good).

This was about a month ago and I am addicted.

But coming out of that closet of anonymity - well that's another few weeks away.

As for scaring the life out of poor knackeredkaz by suggesting we meet up, yup I'm in Dublin, but I think she has made it very clear her proclivities are for men on the other side of that hill!

You might be able to change her mind though....

Keep up the good work and I’ll join yis soon.

 
At 10:11 a.m., Anonymous Marns said...

Oh I hear you - the worst thing is that its not they they are getting younger - its us getting older! When you were 19 and you went out you could be fairly sure that any man in the place was your age or older, now ... well... *sigh* ... not so much...

NY's I was at a place in Dublin called D2 (??) and every boy I pashed that night was under the age of 25... sad... very sad...

 
At 1:34 p.m., Anonymous Donal said...

A belated happy birthday! Better late than never I suppose.

Speaking as someone in my mid-20s, I was at the cinema. Sorry about that. January's a bit of a detox month so staying away from the pubs for a few weeks.

 

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