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QueerBash all began eight years ago in 2004 when Paddy McHugh RIP, the then President of OutinUL Society decided to take the words Queer and Bash and make it into something positive for the gay community and also the event was to bring together the whole student community of UL whether you where Gay, Straight, Bi-sexual, Lesbian, Transgender or Questioning
Check out all the details here!
This Friday 13th April sees the 9th Annual QueerBash from Out In UL, the LGBTQ society in my university. I first heard about QueerBash when I was 16 and working for the Red Ribbon Project on work experience. I remember coming in and my supervisor telling me about how she had been too lazy to really commit to her drag king look so had instead stuck on a moustache, left on her usual look and went around shouting, “I AM A LAAAAAAAAADY!” I have wanted to go to QueerBash ever since.
This year is a tribal theme – “Queers Go Native!” – and whilst I am not sure what every other act is doing, I am pretty excited about what I am doing with Choral Society for the event. Daemon Irrepit Callidus, we will have our day again. After a hard night of partying, Sparkles is also happening in UL the next day and involves a series of workshops on pride, sexual empowerment, marriage equality and lots more.
Out in UL is one of those things that I joined with a few nerves but has been the best society I have ever been involved with. To the extent where I occasionally wander up to our president, Niall, and remind him how much better my life is now that I am part of the group. There have been great moments, distressing moments, flawless moments. Fronds, I love you.
I went to a ball on Sunday. Call me freakin’ Cinderella 
After the Yu-Gi-Oh drinking game was complete, off we went to a fancy hotel to be socially awkward (and skip dinner because we are cheap.)
Besides the DMC-ing in the bathroom and the fancy dresses and suits, there was also a number of theme songs (Big Bang Theory, Fresh Prince, Pokemon and Dr Who but to name a few) and the President’s Dance Off, in which Niamh did her presidential duty and made me proud.
I danced a lot. To a lot of 80s music. And really anything else that came on. The shoes came off though.
There is of course more to say but this is a family show. So I leave you with a picture of me in my finery 
- The first time you eat fish after over 6 months is distressing and a bit of a waste of money because you will give most of it away. Luckily, my friends can handle my crazy emotions. But the second time is a little better. And I hope it will get better from here.
- There is a damn sight more than Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transgender. Try LGBTQCISAP on for size
- I’m still shit at bowling.
- Two nights out in a row is exhausting.
- Nobody cares, Token.
- There is always a way to make a gayer exit (for example, singing the Sound of Music.)
- Its really awkward when you wake up from an overcrowded room to find that your society president had a double bed to himself. Mutiny much?
- Racist humour is uncomfortable.
- Dead baby jokes are hilarious.
- I am learning so much about myself everyday, some I like and some I don’t. But either way, its me, I guess.
I am in college again. Actually, I have been in college a week now. What the what?! I get to do Sciencey things like anatomy and biochemistry and practical stuff like peri-operative care and health psychology. But more importantly, UL is letting me live my life.
Lovely things include: Forum Soc (of which I am treasurer.) Costies. Foam Party on Monday. Many other parties during Fresher’s week. Making friends in my course. Making friends in other course. Shy dates in Starbucks. Running in a very pretty location. Being so busy that I often forget that I ever had something as annoying as an eating disorder. Winning the ultimate Twister championship (it may have helped that I was sober…)
I woke up today with a smile on my face. I fucking love my life.
My mother has always claimed to have one of those faces. Something about it, perhaps caring, understanding, sweet, but whatever it is, random people do love to appraoch her and tell her their life story. In supermarkets, in communities, at work, no one likes anything better than reeling off their problems and highlights to Annette Stewart. And she’s not the only one. My aunts and sister are plagued by the same problem, which although for the most part is an indifferent affair, can at times be altogether withering.
I, on the other hand, have never had to deal with this, per se. Admittedly, I never have too much trouble making friends because people tend to gravitate towards me rather than vice versa, but I suppose I do give off a rather cold exterior to people outside my circle. My relative shyness makes for little conversation with new people and the headphones permanently affixed to my ears during any journey means the only sound I have to listen to on the bus is Broadway showtunes.
So, today was a bit of a change. Too tired to go look for my iPod, I high tailed it to bus without it (and got only got charged for a child ticket. Bus driver just assumed. Come get me CIE.) Nothing unusual, sitting on my own as is the norm. Then around Tutorial (for those not familiar with Limerick, this is two stops from the terminal) an elderly lady moved seats and carefully settled herself next to me. Had I my iPod with me, I would have probably turned up the Wicked soundtrack a little louder.
Then, from random comments (from her) and awkward replies (from me) a conversation sprung. About Limerick and cycling and the priests in Pallaskenry. She told me stories of biking twelve miles to get to the Savoy, where she and her friends knew the waitress, who would give them a veritable feast before heading to the movies on the floor below. She reminded me of my Nana telling us stories of back in the day when my sister and I were only young uns.
So maybe I do have one of those faces.
Although considering last night, the ultimate of creepy drunk guys decided to hang out with us for a sold hour and a half before I had him kicked out for smoking inside, maybe having one of those faces isn’t always such a good thing.
Ok, the title is a lie. Because there is no need to set out action plans for the rest of my goals. I just need to do them. In reference to Goal 2-Run a 10K, I need to find a new race. Turns out Cork Choral Festival and the Great Limerick Run are on the same day. Fail. But I have to pick Cork Choral. I love that Opera House *guuush* Fills any void I may possibly have in my musical soul. So any race ideas around the May/June time period are openly welcome
This is a blatant plagiarism of both Nicole Nichol’s Confession series on the Daily Spark and Melissa’s SideNotes Series on Trying To Heal. But I find both so amazing that maybe its time I make this kind of thing part of my Action Plan #1. I just don’t want to make this whole blog a giant stream of “woe is me.” But at least this way, I can get it out.
So this week has been a struggle. On more days than not, I woke up feeling like I had a battle on my hands. Some days, I went to sleep feeling I had lost that battle. Other days, I felt like I had won but knowing that I’d have to fight the same battle tomorrow. Bingeing has been bad this week. But I am really trying again, resetting my resolve and trying to stay determined. I’m keeping my exercise going though. This is a step in the right direction. I’m watching calories, I admit. But the exercise is for my mind. Not as a binge/starve reaction. I am trying to focus on my running and yoga achievements (increased mileage and crow pose!)
The worst day was Tuesday night. I was in Cork and having a grand ol’ time with my friends (admittedly eating my weight in candy, but that’s another story) and we went out to a club. I was fine for the first half hour or so. Then I don’t know whether it was the amount of people, the public space, the amount of reeeeally pretty thin girls or what, but I became so self conscious and so upset that I started to hyperventilate and panic. Even after I walked out and got some air, I was like a piece of lead bringing down the whole group for the rest of the night. I wonder why becoming social has become such a big issue lately. Honestly, I’d just prefer an evening at the cinema with my mom… Is that sad or what?
In musical news, I am back in choir – first day back was exhausting! So much breathing… – and me and Daddy are setting to work on our new act. And by setting to work, we are essentially picking songs to do. But we should be singing by the week’s end As soon as we’re ready, I expect you all in Clohessy’s. Drunkenly supporting me 
Worry. Nausea. Fear.
Family. Chips. Hot Water Bottle.
Anna. Megan. Jenny. Sca. GHD Curls.
Clancy. Squashing 6 people illegally into a 5 seater. Awesome speaker specs fresh from LeSAD.
The Old Cres. Cheap Drinks. Packed Bathrooms.
Dancing 90. Excellent playlists. Looking like an explorer (In a good way.)
Best Friend. Hugs. 18 kisses (for Steve.)
More Dancing. Frienassaince. Talking to people I haven’t seen in years.
Making plans that might never come true. Over-dancing guy. Hauntiness near our bags (shudder.)
Cheap taxi home. Pizza (Ryvita for me.) Late night X Factor.
Hot Chocolate. More Sca. Bed with make up still on.
That is what makes for an epic night.
My working title for this post was “On Being The Lamest Person In Naas. Ever.” But I’m reading Lewis Carroll at the moment so I thought I would take inspiration from my surroundings.
On this Friday night, the first official night of the festival, where am I? Cosy in my pjs, watching Penn and Teller on Jonathan Ross. And I am happy out. At half 6 this morning, Amy and I donated our supplies, food and toilet paper and torches and such, to our friends and trekked over three buses back to our haven, our home, Limerick city. Perhaps there’s an irony in the sense of security one feels approaching Limerick bus station, considering its notorious reputation. But I love it (:
Getting to these three buses was an ordeal in itself. We started lining for the shuttle bus at 7:20 just to be sure we could get the Naas to Kildare at quarter past 8. But 20 minutes passed, the crowd waiting gets larger and suddenly you are told there has to be a line and you get pushed right to the back. People get moved, another line forms, and you realise three buses have left without you and your stomach spasms are getting stronger and your medicine is just not kicking in. Add to this the fact that your new and old Kerry folk are now in the line with you and their lasting impression of you is clutching a gate, screaming profanities at both the buses and your own digestive tract. Luckily, I have amazing friends who assure the organisers that we are a medical priority and we finally get a bus out of the place.
Kildare was nice. We found a cafe with epic soup and lovely passers by who kept asking were excited for the festival. The wellies were such a giveaway. We decided it was easiest to smile and nod and used our time together to have a frienaissance (she moved schools last year) and plan out our next adventure (Dundrum Shopping Centre, perhaps (: ) and also discuss the joy that was not wearing pants. I have this whole issue with wearing pants lately. The comfort of leggings, skirts and shorts is terribly appealing by comparison. Comfy as.
I’m not even disappointed. I prefer to be at home. Prefer to hang with the family today, chat to my mammy, plan to go to classical concerts with my daddy, have a sca with Aimee on the phone and be promised a salad made by my boy on Sunday. Although I did have some truly lovely moments yesterday, it did just get too much. My slight claustrophobia caused a complete episode when I was on the phone to my mom in my tiny, tiny tent and like 4 people crashed into it. I swear I thought I was getting slashed. I heard way too many stories to not be terribly paranoid. On the upside, we made friends with a lovely bus driver on our way up (he called my socks silly and warned me not lose my hat – but in the nicest possible way (: ) and dammit, I looked nice. Well, festival nice. In spite of all the looks I got ha. And I got to spend time with people who I wouldn’t usually have the chance to see too often. Which I adored.
Like I said to my nana as I came in home, it’s character building. Sure it’s an experience at least.
