today is a day i hate living in east belfast.
i hate the flags fluttering on an otherwise sunny saturday.
i hate the sound of those flutes.
i hate the sound of those flutes on a fucking car stereo at noon, while walking back from the chemist's; a guy actually listening to their hollow squeal from inside his car, while sitting at traffic lights with the windows down and the volume up.
i hate the plastic chairs lining the streets hours in advance of the parade.
i hate the tacky plastic union jack hats being sold on fold-out tables on the corner of My Lady's Road.
i love the irony of place names.
i love that it is Canada day. here's to celebrating all things canuuk. like maple syrup. joni mitchell. rufus wainwright. and beavers.
i also hate period pain; the sound of a blue bottle whizzing around the living room and occasionally smacking into windows and doors; the way coffee grounds take ages to go down the sink; the guilt i feel for putting coffee grounds down the sink and not being able to compost; only being able to watch the west wing in black and white...
but i love the fact that i won't be here on the 12th.
at thursday night's poetry event in the city hall, gearoid maclochlainn performed a poem in irish listing things he hated. i can see why.
