Last Thursday, I attended the BICS (The Board of Irish College Societies) Awards 2015 as part of a large group from my very own college, IT Tralee. It was, quite simply, one of the best experiences I’ve had in college so far. We met so many amazing people from other colleges and learned so much from them. It was kinda surreal to see so many people in one place just for their love of societies. Every single person at the BICS was there because they loved their society and had put so much work into it to make it great.
Last Sunday, August 31st, was without a doubt one of the oddest days of the summer – but the best one by far.
I was woken at around 12:30pm (the norm as I hadn’t gone to sleep until about 4 or 5am the night before) by a phonecall from two of my friends, Ger and Mr. Darcy himself, who were up at Electric Picnic for the weekend, wanting to know if I was coming up. See, I had a Sunday ticket, but for various and slightly complicated reasons, it wasn’t going to be used. I informed my friends of this and they seemed disappointed, but mentioned that they had apparently been spotted front and centre at Blondie on RTE’s EP highlights on Saturday, so I went downstairs to watch it and try and spot my friends.
I started thinking about why I wasn’t going, and mentioned it to my mother. Her response? “Well, why don’t you go? We can sort it out.” So I decided, fuck it! Let’s go to EP! And so began the greatest 24 hours of the summer. My mother (the living saint) drove me to Laois (apparently, it’s only an hour away. I mistakenly believed it was like 5 hours away… the more you know!), and I set off to find my friends. After a but of confusion over where to pick up my wristband (it was a special Sunday Guest ticket), we eventually found the guestlist cabin and we were off for a day of alcohol and music!
This will be just a general life blog post. I’m working on more interesting ones, I swear, but I couldn’t not blog about last week, which I spent back down in Kerry.
It started originally as a simple enough plan: get the bus down Friday, spend the weekend with my friend, hit the nightclubs in Killarney on Saturday night, recover Sunday, get the bus home on Monday morning. Simples. But slowly, day by day, it turned into a week long holiday and I cannot remember a time where I laughed so much or had a greater chance of picking up a British accent. (I didn’t, in case you’re interested, but my mother informed me when I came home that when I called her during the week ad I an extremely thick Kerry accent. Fabulous).