DarrenByrne.com

This evening’s DART journey was thankfully far less eventful than this morning’s. After an eye-opening and boundary crossing shopping trip with Maybury, I’m heading towards home and can take the time to look back over my week.

I got set up with the O2 Broadband last week and since then, rather than blog incessantly, wherever I am, all’s been quiet on the webbery front. So, what have I been up to?

Well, work’s been very busy and while I try to avoid spending my working day online anyway, this last week has seen me spend particularly short periods of time online. Short of answering emails and playing the odd word in Scrabulous on FaceBook, I’ve been actually doing my real work. A few people lately have asked me what I do for money in this big bad world. I usually say that it’s not that interesting and move on, but trust me…it’s not that interesting, so I really don’t want to bore you or me talking about it. Move on.

So, this week, when I’ve managed to get home from my stressful days’ work, I’ve been so tired that I really haven’t wanted to write about anything, least of all my life. Instead, I’ve been listening to Tom Waits and doing some tidying up around the apartment.

The cleaning up is an absolute necessity following last Saturday night’s cocktail party, thrown by Miss Lottie. Such a fun night I have not had in ages, considering I’ve had some brilliant nights in recent times. I apologise now to everyone who was there for hogging the SingStar mic for the whole night. You all need to learn to say “No Darren, No”.

Many songs, many cocktails, many odd conversations later, I found myself on the sitting room floor at 9am staring at D2‘s laces. Yes, his laces. I did what any other rational, sane, intelligent person would do. I stole his laces and tied Anto to Orpies. Orpies managed to free herself rather quickly (she’s a bright girl). Anto – not so bright.

Monday night brought us back to see the Dark Knight for my second time and Lottie’s first. It really is awesome. The truest Summer blockbuster since Jurassic Park. I will go again…and again.

Tuesday came and I still hadn’t recovered from Saturday night/Sunday morning, but I was due to go to dinner with the other volunteers for the Dublin Writers’ Festival. We ate in Eden in Meeting House Square and had a really nice evening. The company was great, the food was beautiful and the service was excellent. Thank you to Lean, Jack and everyone in the Arts Office for arranging both this night and the Writers’ festival itself.

Wednesday – finally, I get the opportunity to go home, chill out, sit down and recover. With Waits on the iPod, I sit back relax and read through a small portion of the three billion posts in my feed-reader. I need to trim some of these down.

A Humble Return

Which brings me to Thursday. I return to the Blogosphere and I am shocked at how much I missed it. I love writing about what’s going on with my life. It’s not so I can entertain and enthrall you lot (because I’m undoubtedly wide of the mark if that’s my aim). I do it for me – it’s fun and entertains me. I enjoy writing and I enjoy looking back over the day, over the gigs I’ve been to, over the nights out I’ve had, over the conversations and altercations I’ve had with the people I’ve met. I hope I don’t over-analyse, because I’m constantly telling Doyle to stop that, but I do enjoy clearing my thoughts and doing post-mortems on the things I’ve done and said. It pains me to sound this American, but I find it therapeutic.

Anyway, I’d like to say thank you to everyone who reads my blog and a massive thank you to all who comment. The comments are the icing on the cake for me – cheers.

Update: After publishing I noticed Raptureponies has given her thoughts on Blogging at the moment. Check it out.

I got on the DART as normal this morning. I sat in my usual seat. I had my usual journey (the train was running a few minutes late). I got up to stand at the train doors and Grand Canal Dock, so I can get off quickly at Pearse Station, as usual. What was not so usual was the strange middle-aged woman who had no concept of personal space.

I had my hand on the poll beside me and she moved through a few people to come to a stop right beside me and the poll. She then proceeded to rub her middle-aged breasts against my arm. At first I assumed she hadn’t noticed and the cramped DART forced her into this compromising position. So, I moved slightly. Problem solved!

Nope – she followed me and continued to rub her middle-aged breasts against my arm. The DART was not that packed. There was plenty of space. There was no excuses – this woman was rubbing herself against me on purpose. And to make matters worse, the DART had now come to a halt just before Pearse Station.

There is a term, according to the urban dictionary, ‘frotting‘, which is when men rub their genitalia against women on busy public transport to get a sexual thrill. Can the term be used to describe women who do something similar?

A short while and a small move later I notice that her middle-aged breasts have two very obvious, very protruding middle-aged nipples. It’s at this point that I panic and run to the corner to cower like a frightened animal.

I feel violated!

Is this a common thing? Do middle aged-women do this a lot? Do younger women do it? I’m not sure I’d have such a problem if the rubbing was being done by two breasts who were not middle aged. I’m just sayin’!