#ballymun

[flirtlikeafrenchgirl]

Recipe for Dublin Coddle Irish sausage and bacon are a major component of this traditional winter stew from Dublin.

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Two (Part 3)

We sit in the window of a vegan restaurant and we pick at our sweet potato and quinoa bowls while she goes on about some poetry night she was at last week. She always goes to poetry nights, she insists that she’s moved by the prose, which to me seems like endless spoken word performances about the Ballymun flats, soliloquies about the gentrification of the working class postcodes, references to things that Dubliners love, like the Poolbeg chimneys, which are… just chimneys. 

Marnie is one of those people who loves pretending that she isn’t posh. She can lament about the flats, but she’s never been in or near them. She buys bags of tobacco, skins and filters for five euros when she could easily afford to buy her cigarettes pre-rolled, and does her best to uphold the most neutral of neutral accents, so ambiguous that nobody could ever guess where she’s from. It’s only on rare occasions when she lets her guard down that her plummy, south side accent peeks through and she can’t disguise affiliation with the fee paying school she attended in Blackrock. For both primary and secondary, no less.  

I’ve been to poetry nights with her, but only once or twice, because I hate them.  She likes to sit there and make outraged sounds in the right places, pretending to be furious at the bankers, even though her dad is one and he definitely benefited directly from the housing market crash. The whole reason she’s there though, really, although she’d never admit to such shallowness, is so that she can meet weird, literary boys who go to Trinity. They seem to love her, and I can only ever sit in amazement as she brings me to their tables and watch as she wraps them around her little finger using nothing but clever words and conspiratorial little smiles. None of them are that handsome, they’re all a bit gawky, and usually after a couple of weeks of knowing her they’ll do something earnest like write a poem about her which she’ll read to me mockingly, pretending that she isn’t privately delighted by it. 

She’s not like anybody else I’ve ever met, which drives my fascination with her. She’s very interesting. She reads books about feminism, and always has high-brow, intelligent opinions about things like the patriarchy, which I am only now hearing about for the first time. And she’s very cool, and I know that she tries very hard to be cool, but it works, and when I’m around her I kind of feel like I’m cool by association. She’s got attitudes towards things that I know someone like my mam would say were “very modern”. She told me before that she used to be in an open relationship with a boy called Peter, and insists that humans were never supposed to be monogamous. But the open relationship arrangement only seemed to apply to her, as evidently Peter never went on a date with another person for the entire relationship, and they eventually split because he was jealous. Except she hadn’t said “jealous”. She’d said “Unevolved”.

“Come on, Evie.” She pesters me over our salads after my less than enthusiastic response to her invitation to yet another slam-poetry-spoken-word-whatever night. “It’s always a good laugh. I know that you have a good time, even just a small bit.”

I sigh. “I really don’t, Marnie. I’m just not that bothered about the poetry.”

“Well, if you don’t like poetry, at least come with me to flirt with a few cute guys. It would be good for you.”

I look at her doubtfully, knowing that there are never any cute boys there, only exceptionally odd looking ones wearing doc martens boots laced all the way up to their knees. “I’m not that bothered about the boys there either.” I say. “None of them are… really my type.”

She puts her hand on my wrist and looks at me worriedly. “I was actually wondering.” She says in a low voice. “Like, I’ve known you for over a month now, and we’ve been out in town so many times and met so many people and yet I’ve never seen you even flirt with a single person.”

“So what?” I say defensively. 

“So do you like boys? Girls? Neither?”

“I’m shy.” I huff. 

“I used to be shy.” She comments, and I don’t say anything to that, because I know that her definition of what shy looks like is extremely different to the kind of shy I’m living with. “I was a very quiet child, then my parents sent me to a therapist and I was alright after that.”

“You think I should go to therapy because I’m shy.”

“Oh, everyone should be in therapy, it’s absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, and actually, this country’s relationship with mental health has historically been shameful, so we have to make extra effort to challenge our prejudices about it.” She goes off on a tangent, all while gently stroking her thumb over my wrist, and I zone out for a few moments so I can look out the window onto the windy city street. 

“So like, when’s the last time you got with someone?” She says suddenly.

I pull my hand away from her so I can rest it on my hot cheeks. She’s very good at asking direct questions in a very conversational way that are very difficult to twist your way out of, and I don’t know what to say so I grumble something incoherent. Then she pokes me in the arm. “Hey. It’s no big deal, just a simple question. How long has it been?”

I sigh. “A while.”

“What’s a while?” 

I take my fork and start stabbing at my chunks of sweet potato, my hand fisted at my cheek. “Never.” I finally admit. “You got me, okay? I still have my… virginity.”

I know as soon as the words leave my mouth that she’s going to have something grandiose to say, and she does. “Virginity doesn’t exist.” She announces. “It’s made up by men to control the sex that we do or don’t have, completely based on the obsessive patriarchal ideological rhetoric that leads to the idea that daughters belong to their fathers before they belong to their husbands.” 

“Okay.” I say. 

“So go out and have it.”

“It’s not that simple.” I say half-heartedly, already tired from years of having this exact conversation with first Kelly, then Claire, neither of whom have ever understood me, or tried to. “Everyone else already has experience, and will expect me to have experience too. Because I should have some experience by now. And when I finally do… it with someone, I’m going to disappoint them.”

“Because you’re not immediately a porn star?”

“Yes.”

“Well, there is that, and men will always have unrealistic expectations of what is physically possible…” she says unhelpfully, then stops when she sees my forlorn expression. “But you’re too in your head about it. The best way to get over it is to just do it.”

“Yeah. Great. With who though?”

“Someone, any lad will do.”

“It’s supposed to be special.” I say weakly. “Everyone says you don’t forget your first time, and if I’m going to remember it forever then I want it to be perfect.”

“People have sex sometimes, Evie. It’s not a big deal. Can you imagine the pressure of having to live up to the kinds of expectations that you have?”

I never considered the effect of my expectations. Maybe she’s right, maybe I am piling the pressure on too high for everyone involved, but I have no idea how I’m going to even begin to untangle the web that is my intimacy issues. I groan and rub my eyes with the heels of my hands in resignation. “I know I have to try. It’s not like I want to be like this, but I just feel so stuck.”

“We have to unstick you.”

“We?”

“Yes I’ve decided to help you.”

“Marnie…”

“Oh, come on. It’ll be fun. Think about it, you and I out on the pull together, chatting to men. I could definitely hook you up with someone.”

I fix her with my best warning look. “I don’t ever want you to try and set me up with anybody. I want free will and choice.” 

“I have great taste.”

She doesn’t. The last guy she hooked up with had an infected eyebrow piercing and curly mohawk in this queasy, seasick colour where it used to be blue. 

“Fine, next time we’re out, I’ll give you complete agency.” She relents. “I won’t bring anybody over to you, even if he’s an absolute babe who’s exactly your type.” Then she reaches out and touches my wrist again. “But I think this is good, Evie. It’s time to push past your anxiety, and just see who’s out there.”

“I suppose.” I say grimly, and go back to stabbing my salad. “But I’m not ready to sleep with anybody. I just want to talk, and maybe kiss someone. Maybe.”

“That’s so secondary school.” She teases. “But look, I get it. It’s probably been ages since you even kissed someone.” A pause. “If ever?”

“I’m not Drew Barrymore, I’ve been kissed.” I scoff. “Just not in a while.”

“What’s a while?”

“My debs date tried to kiss me.” I say elusively.

“Tried to? Or actually did?”

“Tried to.” I admit, and then shudder with the memory of Bootsy’s dead eyed face looming toward me on the dancefloor, mouth already open. He didn’t even have the decency to look disappointed when I rejected him either, and ten minutes later I saw him devouring Cristina the Horse Girl by the bar.

“Okay so you objectively did not have your last kiss at your debs.”

“I suppose not.” 

“So it was when?”

I feel too embarrassed to answer. Since the dawn of my love life, since my very first kiss at thirteen, I’ve never gone more than a few weeks or months without it happening. It used to be something I did just to get it out of the way, so that I could say that I’d done it, but now something has switched. I’ve had an intense aversion to it, to anybody showing interest in me. It all just seems too much, too overwhelming, something so gross and unappealing to me now that the idea of it makes me feel a little sick.

“A while ago.” I say, feeling flustered at the old memory. “It was back during the summer after fifth year.”

“So like, a good year and a half?”

“Yeah when you put it like that it sounds so sad.”

She doesn’t need to tell me that yes, in fact, she does think it’s sad, she just shakes her head in dismay. “You’re getting back on the kiss train, firstly. Let’s start there. Once you’ve broken the seal it’ll be easy. It’s just about pushing through fear.” She says it like she really knows what she’s talking about, with absolute conviction, and I kind of believe that she does. Marnie gets all the boys, all the time, even if they’re not handsome boys, she still gets them, so surely she knows a thing or two that I don’t. I find myself nodding along to what she’s saying. 

“Alright.” I say. “I’ll get back on the kissing train.”

“Amazing.” She grins. “Let’s go out tonight.”

I take a shaky breath. “Wow, that’s soon.”

“Come on, Evie, it’s never too early, just push through it.”

“Alright. But can we go to a normal bar? Not one of those Trinity pubs, please, I don’t fancy any of those academic types.”

“I feel as though you’re just making excuses.”

“I’m really not, just, please, can we go somewhere normal.”

She sighs. “You know I like the Trinity students.”

“Can you compromise?”

She rolls her eyes theatrically. “Fine. We’ll go to a bar. A boring bar full of boring people.”

“That’s more like it.”

“But as a pay off you have to kiss someone.”

“I have to?”

“Okay, like, obviously it’s really bad-out for me to pressure you, I know, but you have to try some light flirtation with at least one boy.”

“Okay.” I say to her, “I’ll try.”

“Promise?”

“Yes. I promise. One boy.”

“That’s good enough for me.”

Prev // Next

[k00295740]

Here are some of my favourite photos from Amelia Troubridge’s photography work “Urban Cowboys” Dublin 1996. I read about here work (link below) and was interested in the similarities between the context of her work and the current social situation in Moyross Limerick, where I photograph horses for my project.

The Ballymun flats that Troubridge photographed have since been torn down as part of a regeneration scheme to combat crime, unemployment and substance abuse.

The estate (Delmege Park) in Moyross that I photograph horses in is also half demolished as part of a similar regeneration scheme.The Limerick regeneration scheme was unveiled by Mary McAleese in 2008 and is ongoing to this day (pictured below).The project has has been successful in certain aspects - the crime rate has dropped significantly, but the demolition of houses during the housing crisis has lead to serious housing problems for locals and a rise in homelessness, as replacent houses are not being built as quick as they are being torn down.

Troubridge talks about the positive impact the horses have on the lives of the locals and I am in agreement with her. That’s why I am more so interested in showing how the horses are disruptive on a visual level because I don’t believe the horses are a negative thing in their owners lives. In my project I want to explore the juxtaposition of having a large strong powerful animal in a city.

Here is a link to Amelia Troubridge’s full work below and an article about the regeneration project in Limerick.

[bonos-grindcore-sideproject]

I was on my own last night so I watched "Into The West," an Irish film about two little Traveler boys whose father has brought them to live in the Ballymun towers (of blessed memory) after the death of their mother, but then their grandfather somehow acquires a magical white horse and tells the boys the legend of Oisín and Tir Na Nog and the boys name the horse Tir Na Nog and the younger boy is somehow cured of his asthma ONLY in the presence of this horse and a mean rich guy steals the horse and the boys steal it back and have an Adventure and are pursued by very nasty gardaí and you can just work out the connection between the dead Mam and the horse for yourself but I ended up an emotional wreck.

Fucking Ireland, I stg.

[oww666]

IRELAND RISES: MASS PROTEST (East Wall, Ballymun, Fermoy, Clondalkin, Sh...

[theohonohan]

All Channel

A few weeks ago, on the bus from Ballymun in the afternoon, I was sitting opposite two young kids. One was reminding the other that they had been the one who showed them that it was possible to get on the bus and go into town (I'm not sure if their trip had involved slipping away from some daycare program). The second kid said "Oh, so I created you!"

I was struck by this remark, because it seems to reflect the influence of video games or fantasy narratives. I don't think it would ever have occurred to me to use that metaphor when I was a kid. The notion of creating or training another sentient being, like a pokémon or a tamagotchi, is common in the video game world, but historically this kind of filiation been very controversial—Frankenstein's monster, for example, or heretical doctrines such as traducianism. It seems amazing to me that kids would adopt this way of thinking about the creation of other individuals outside the worlds of fictional narratives. Weird new practices such as tulpamancy come to mind.

In a video game, the human players are typically the only agencies, and they experience the game world as a combination of background art, NPCs and game mechanics. This situation inspired David Cronenburg's film eXistenZ, which features a virtual reality game that is generated from the combined psychic energies of its dozen or so players. The participants are the sole constituents of the game world, connected by an all-channel network which somehow generates the experience of the game, presented to consciousness like a dream. All there is, really, is an interface between the players. There's no source of truth other than their competing wills. (Cronenburg has remarked that he was thinking about Schopenhauer's theory of Will and Representation when writing the script for eXistenZ.)

Video games describe a world in which individual agency (the control of the player character) is the main event. All other forms of causality (even chance occurences) are minimized in the service of a coherent narrative or a fair contest. Much like the characters in eXistenZ, the players of a video game provide the only inputs from which the world is generated. A perspective on reality that takes video games as its model may miss the significance of independent human experience beyond interaction between people. There's plenty of space on the spectrum between the solipsism of a single-player game and the incessant social interaction of a multi-player arena. To think of oneself as creating another individual seems like it might lead to a kind of object permanence problem: one discounts all of the experience that individual might have outside of their interactions with you.

Elif Batuman's book The Idiot evocatively describes the way email, in the 90s, could provide for the first time a narrow, persistent textual channel between physically separated people. In the absence of direct interaction, the participants in an email conversation find themselves simultaneously reducing their interlocutor to his or her typed words, and projecting a psychically complex persona from those words. Since then, the wonder of email has worn off, but people still talk about "text chemistry", which operates in this strange impersonal territory.

Insofar as I’d had any idea about it at all, I had imagined that email would resemble faxing, and would involve a printer. But there was no printer. There was another world. You could access it from certain computers, which were scattered throughout the ordinary landscape, and looked no different from regular computers. Always there, unchanged, in a configuration nobody else could see, was a glowing list of messages from all the people you knew, and from people you didn’t know, all in the same letters, like the universal handwriting of thought or of the world. Some messages were formally epistolary, with “Dear” and “Sincerely”; others telegraphic, all in lowercase with missing punctuation, like they were being beamed straight from people’s brains. And each message contained the one that had come before, so your own words came back to you—all the words you threw out, they came back. It was like the story of your relations with others, the story of the intersection of your life with other lives, was constantly being recorded and updated, and you could check it at any time.

(From https://www.penguinrandomhouse.ca/books/314108/the-idiot-by-elif-batuman/9780143111061/excerpt)

[superior010]

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[adidriving]

Driving Lessons in Ballymun

Unlock the freedom of the road with our tailored driving lessons in Ballymun. Our experienced instructors empower learners with essential skills and confidence. Our driving lessons in Ballymun have been available from Darragh and Allied Driving Instructors since the mid 2000s. Contact us today!

[superior-driveways]

Premier Paving Contractor Services Dublin

Welcome to Superior Drives & Patios Dublin, your go-to place for exceptional paving and landscaping services in Dublin and the surrounding areas. With over twenty years of experience under our belts, we're passionate about turning outdoor spaces into breathtaking masterpieces. Whether it's crafting driveways that make a statement or creating patios perfect for relaxation, we offer a comprehensive range of services. Backed by expert consultation, creative design, and flawless installation, we're committed to bringing your outdoor visions to life at Superior Drives & Patios Dublin.

Superior's insight:

About Superior Drives & Patios Dublin

Superior Drives & Patios Dublin is a leading provider of paving and landscaping services in Dublin, dedicated to delivering exceptional results and customer satisfaction. With a team of experienced professionals and a wide range of services, we are committed to enhancing the beauty and functionality of outdoor spaces in Dublin and its surrounding areas.

Contact: Address: Santry Cross, 20 The Hampton, Ballymun, Dublin, D11 W022, Ireland  tel us: 01205810 Mail us: info@superiordrives.ie   Website: superiordrives.ie

  Media Contact:

Tom Superior Owner Superior Drives & Patios Dublin Email: info@superiordrives.ie Phone: 3533012058109

[urban-vyaas-blog]

Here Comes Everybody's Karma (8)

For centuries untold, the cornflowers have adorned the fields of Ballymun, the dusk rose has claimed the hedges of Goatstown, and the intertwining tulips have graced the sweet Rush in the mesmerizing dance of the twilight. The whitethorn and the Redhorn have enchanted the may valleys of Knockmaroon, standing resilient against the passing of numerous ages. As the Fomorians have withstood the…

[kingsecuritysystems]

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Business Address: Ballymun and North Dublin, Co Dublin, Ireland

Phone: 0851921661

Website URL: https://kingsecuritysystems.ie/

[adventuregirl2023]

Urban Explorations: Adventure in the Heart of Dublin

Dublin, the vibrant capital of Ireland, is a city steeped in history and culture. Beyond its famous landmarks and bustling streets, there lies a world of urban exploration waiting to be discovered. This article embarks on a journey through the heart of adventure in Dublin, uncovering hidden gems, historic sites, and the unique blend of old and new that characterizes this captivating city.

The Hidden Alleyways: Unveiling Dublin's Secrets

Dublin's charm extends beyond its well-trodden streets. A sense of adventure awaits those willing to wander off the beaten path and explore the city's hidden alleyways. Temple Bar might be a known hotspot, but adjacent lanes like Crown Alley and Eustace Street reveal quirky shops, street art, and small cafes that provide an intimate look into the local culture. These narrow passageways offer a genuine Dublin experience, away from the crowds and touristy hustle.

Graffiti Wonderland: Street Art that Tells Stories

Dublin's walls are a canvas for artistic expression, with vibrant street art transforming ordinary buildings into visual storytelling. Areas like Smithfield and Portobello showcase a diverse range of graffiti, from political statements to whimsical creations. Artists like Maser and Subset have left their mark, turning Dublin into an open-air gallery. Each mural reflects the city's dynamic spirit, with the art not just adorning walls but becoming an integral part of Dublin's evolving narrative.

Historical Haunts: Exploring Dublin's Abandoned Spaces

For those with a taste for the eerie and historical, Dublin offers a plethora of abandoned spaces that whisper tales of the past. The Pigeon House Power Station, with its industrial remnants along Dublin Bay, and the hauntingly beautiful Ballymun Boiler House stand as silent witnesses to bygone eras. These forgotten places provide a fascinating glimpse into Dublin's industrial history, offering intrepid explorers a chance to connect with the city's evolution.

Canal-side Serenity: A Tranquil Escape in the City

Amidst the urban hustle, Dublin's canals offer a serene escape. The Grand Canal, lined with stately Georgian buildings and weeping willows, provides a picturesque setting for a leisurely stroll or a peaceful picnic. As swans glide along the water and narrowboats bob gently, the city's pace slows down, inviting reflection and relaxation. This hidden gem showcases Dublin's ability to seamlessly blend nature into its urban landscape.

Rooftop Revelations: Dublin's Skyline from New Heights

For a truly unique perspective, urban explorers can ascend to the rooftops of Dublin's iconic buildings. The Guinness Storehouse, with its Gravity Bar boasting panoramic views, and the Marker Hotel, offering a stunning vantage point of the Docklands, allow visitors to witness the city from new heights. The juxtaposition of historic landmarks against a modern skyline paints a comprehensive picture of Dublin's architectural evolution.

Lively Liberties: Dublin's Oldest District Comes Alive

Dublin's Liberties, the city's oldest district, is a treasure trove of history and culture. Cobblestone streets lead to landmarks like St. Patrick's Cathedral and the Christ Church Cathedral, showcasing Dublin's medieval roots. The area has undergone a revival, with artisanal shops, distilleries, and lively pubs breathing new life into the Liberties. Urban explorers can witness the convergence of tradition and modernity in this bustling district.

Conclusion: Dublin's Urban Tapestry

Dublin's allure lies not just in its renowned attractions but in the layers waiting to be peeled back by urban explorers. From hidden alleys and street art to abandoned spaces and tranquil canals, the city reveals its true character to those willing to venture beyond the familiar. Dublin's urban tapestry is a rich blend of history, creativity, and contemporary vitality. As the city continues to evolve, urban explorations serve as a reminder that Dublin's essence extends far beyond its iconic landmarks – it thrives in the nuances of its streets, the art on its walls, and the stories whispered by its abandoned spaces. So, grab a map, put on comfortable shoes, and let Dublin unfold its secrets to those ready to explore its heart.

[fabulousfamilyfinds]

Winter Sensory Friendly Session

Fabulous Family Finds have come across an evening for children with additional needs. Hosted by the Axis Ballymun and Dublin County Council. So register as soon as you can for a lovely evening.

On December 19th from 2-4pm, Axis Ballymun and Dublin City Council - Finglas/Ballymun are delighted to be able to host a special Winter Sensory Day.

This will be a sensory-friendly day with soft play and sensory play on offer. This event will have limited attendance so that children with additional needs and their families can relax and enjoy the experience.

If you’d like to attend, please email niamh.nic@axisballymun.ie

This is a FREE event but booking is required.

[thoughtsntalesonline]

I saw this poster on the streets of Ballymun and I got intrigued. I wanted to know what the design was about so I searched online. I found out that The Better Ballymun Trinity Comprehensive History Trail was launched during Better Ballymun Action Day.

This interesting event, organized collaboratively by Ballymun Tidy Towns, Trinity Comprehensive, and Dublin City Council, aims to celebrate the rich history of Ballymun. It's an exciting opportunity for students to contribute by creating an engaging history trail that features eleven remarkable sites.

The Ballymun History Trail serves as a walk down memory lane, inviting the community to rediscover the captivating history and heritage of Ballymun.

I like the fact that the picture used in this design is in black and white, showing that there is a form of history in the design and evoking a sense of nostalgia amongst the people of Ballymun.

The elements in the design are also center-aligned, making it easy for the reader to browse through. The sans-serif font used here is also very legible, making reading easier and enhancing effective communication.

[stmcdaily]

A great experience the for 6th year Irish classes today, attending An Triail by Mairéad Ní Ghráda in the Axis theatre Ballymun. The drama is a key component of the Leaving Cert course. The boys enjoyed a superb production that will help them in their understanding of the drama. 

Roinn na Gaeilge STMC