Some people were wondering why I hardly blogged last week. Here’s my week from hell:
Work, after work, get train to Dublin, meet Cian, have food, get to Jury’s Montrose, change, leg it to RTE studios for Questions and Answers. RTE reminds me of the way hospitals were a few years ago. Crumbling. The building seems old and very worn. Cian points out the reception on the TVs in the main entraceway are shit. We were ushered into a waiting room with not enough seats for everyone and got served tea and coffee. Into the Q&A studio which is tiny. Seats are totally uncomfortable which is fine since I didn’t want to fall asleep. Cian got to make a comment.
Before the show started they picked a question which wasn’t chosen to be asked on air but would be fun enough to warm up the audience and the panelists. Some American kid had asked “Pepsi or Coke”. Liz O’Donnell answers Diet Coke, Richard Bruton says he doesn’t drink any fizzy drinks, Noel Dempsey says he doesn’t think he’s ever drank Pepsi. (We all know some of his party love Coke though), Eileen Gleeson says Diet Anything and Trevor Sargent launches into a rant about fizzy drinks and rotting your teeth yadda yadda. A mexican wave of eyerolling follows.
Afterwards we are invited back to the Green room or whatever it is where we chat with the panelists. Noel Dempsey sees me, shakes my hand, does the niceities and stays at the other side of the room with his mass of people. Four of which are the people that so vigourously defended Bertie during Q&A. Myself and Cian are there til 0130 chatting with various people with the odd RTE staff member reminding people we’re bloggers and we might blog this. Cian asks someone from the Green Party very tough questions. Fascinating to watch. Cian explains to Liz O’Donnell what blogs are and she finally understands what they are but wonders how she could find time to blog. She does mention lots of people have said she should blog. At least there’s talk of blogs. (Later in the week at the Blogging the Election conference we hear that Fiona O’Malley’s people advised her that blogging is a waste of time.)
Get 7am train from Dublin to Cork, can you believe that’s the earliest damned train to Cork? Madness. Go to work. Later,. get called by Prime Time about Smart. They’re looking to interview disgruntled Smart customers. I find a few for them. They ask me to come on to talk too. I mention I’m in Cork and for the first time they say it doesn’t matter, they can book the Cork studio. (Up to this point TV journos have always reacted with a “Ah forget it so, you have to be in Dublin.”) Go into RTE studios, nervous as shit, do the live interview. Miriam O’Callaghan was lovely before we went live. Very calming influence. No I didn’t know what I was going to be asked. Leave RTE, switch on phone. Greeted with texts from people telling me I’m on telly right now. I realised.
Work, finish work and fly to Dublin. Get into Dublin, ring the guy that was meant to come to the Leonard Cohen tribute concert. He hasn’t a clue what I’m on about. Didn’t know it was on tonight. Has other things to do. Great, I’m stuck with a quite expensive spare ticket. Check into hotel, get food, taxi it to the Point. Tout offers me 20 quid for spare ticket. I give him explicit instructions on how he can have intercourse with himself. Point only starts leaving people in around 3 mins before the show is meant to start. Bars are closed, they demand we hurry to our seats, I slow my pace. Get to my seat and Nick Cave launches into a song as everyone is stilling milling in. Concert is quite good, I fall asleep in parts though. At the interval I bump into Noel Dempsey again. I wonder who is stalking who. As the second half begins I see a guy that looks like Frank with a beard. It’s Frank, with a beard and a bird. Gavin Friday was shit. Sorry Frank but himself and that fucking screeching zombie were like they were auditioning for Jazz Club. They fucked up Hallelujah. Overall I loved the show though, when I was awake.
Cohen show ends past midnight. Head back to hotel, friend who lives round the corner texts me to come over for some wine. Get ambushed to fix his laptop! Back to hotel, pack up for quick departure in morning. Hotel is told wake me at 0545. I wake at 0745. Shit. Missed my flight. Ring reception. They tell me wakeup call was for 0845, eh no. They double check and realise the hotel receptionist writes his 5 like an 8. Get 1100 train to Cork since there are no hourly trains yet! Get into work for 1430. Get piss taken out of me. Finsh work, go to dinner with a friend who is back from Boston. Go out after to the ever horrible Instinct bar. Go home and sleep.
Work, finish work, pack for Dublin, find out am nominated for NetVisonary awards, politely decline, train to Dublin, get into Dublin for 2300. Sleep.
Wake early, not hungover, woo! Head to town, go into TodayFM for interview on Sunday Business show. Get 1200 train to Cork. Home and free! Phew. Almost.