eamonn owens

Ah, Remember When...

Well, here we go, ladies and germs! The ever-anticipated special anniversary post of Eve! Now my, have we got something planned for you! That's right, tis Eve's Greatest Moments, chosen by the one and only Eve herself! So sit back and relax, take some time to check out all these wonderful memories (it will take a while, but it'll be worth it, I promise!) and reminisce with the ole Evester!

. . . .

But wait! Harc! Could there be more!? Oh yes, I think so!

Guess what?? This is also the last post of Evenpr! (the crowd gasps! :o) Not to say that she is leaving, oh no dear readers, she would NEVER do that to you... she is just changing her identity! That's right, from now on, Eve will be know as...

cerule!


She will of course continue to keep up with all of her loyal friends, and she asks that you reciprocate by updating your friends lists by adding cerule (you can do it quite easily right HERE).

. . . .

and so, here we go, finally... EVE'S GREATEST MOMENTS!
da-da-dan!

  • 2001-07-24 - I just wish I was a kid again. - An entry in this journal's first day finds me reminiscing about childhood in an old neighborhood.

  • The saga of Eamonn Owens, boy wonder... - The First Post - The sequel to this post is here. A discovery of one of his recent films is here, and the conclusion to that, here!

  • 2001-09-09 - I suppose I could blame my childhood, all right. - Just some mental ramblings, some introverted rants if you will, under the influence of too much British and Irish media.

  • 2001-11-02 - "And I will drink my coffee slow; and I will watch my shadow grow." - "...all I want to do is cry, or die. Something easier than going through every day as miserable as I am… yearning for things that could never be… and even if they were, would never be enough." Never thought The Monkees could influence so deep a nostalgic, philosophical entry, didja!

  • 2001-11-07 - I want to LIVE. - Another film influence causes me to get terribly introspective, philosophical, and just plain whiny.

  • A Visit to Antioch College - I visited Antioch College in Yellow Springs, Ohio. I first heard of it a few months ago when Seth, an alumni of City Year who attended and now worked there, came and talked to us about it. The philosophies and structure of the school immediately struck a chord within me, and I looked it up immediately. - December One, Two, and Three, 2001

  • 2002-01-01 - I guess the changing of the year is as good a way as any to count the passage of time. - As 2002 begins, baggage of 2001 ends... I think.

  • 2002-01-23 - holiday - a dream - More annoying reaches into my childhood for self-identification.

  • Henry Jaglom - January found me emailing filmmaker Henry Jaglom. A general email and then another on a specific film, New Year's Day.

  • 2002-02-25 - news... - Guess where I'm going in the fall (hint: look up a few lines)??

  • Ah, the wonderful Troy Chapman - Troy is a writer and spiritual activist who also happens to be a prisoner for life. I found him through this article in March (post contains excerpts and a link), and wrote to him shortly thereafter (post contains emails to some other neat folks, too). Our correspondence continues: 2002-04-19, 2002-06-15, 2002-06-23, 2002-07-04. I also talk about him on 2002-04-27 (as well as some other neatish stuff).

  • 2002-03-18 - what is it about snow? - I love snow, you know? This is why.

  • 2002-04-01 - "it's three o'clock in the morning... and i can't even close my eyes" - Blues-inspired, well, blues. People issues, fun!

  • 2002-04-25 - :) :( :\ :p - H'ho, the Evester stands up for herself against a pain-in-the-ass heckler (check the last two comments), something which started at an earlier post, in a letter to Troy.

  • 2002-04-27 - my 21st birthday - A test done around birthday time; bloody "Puritanical" Americans...

  • 2002-06-07 - a night with a midget - hehe - Hooray for meeting random people on lj who turn out to be awesome!

  • 2002-06-10 - Looks can be deceiving. - Yet another depressing loss-of-childhood entry. Sorta pretty, though.

  • 2002-06-23 - a day of: potluck, bonfire, good-byes, theatre, ron palillo, troy, crying - A fun yet exhausting day out. Out? Oh my god, I didn't think I knew what that was... I never cease to amaze myself!

  • 2002-07-01 - timeline / almost a year! - Prepping for this entry, I get retrospective. "i meant for this to be a short timeline of significant things in my life since i began this journal to put on my userinfo page. like everything i write, it became an epic ;)."

  • Ri Ra! - my newest second home, Ri Ra The Irish Pub - On 2002-07-07, I get jealous because my mom flirts with my bartenders; on 2002-07-14, I got stranded there, shoe-less; and the next night I wrote a helluva lot.

  • 2002-07-06 - the times they are a-changin' - It's been a while, so I figured I'd try another shift in consciousness. Why the hell not, right? Can't be stable for too long, eh! :P

  • 2002-07-12 - the support of surrogate families - A cheesy entry (yes, I lied in the last one) about old friends.

    Did you know that Eve is also a talented *coughcough* creative writer? Here are some of her highlighted poetry and prose from the last year!

    POETRY

  • 2001-08-11 - Inhale/Exhale - "In with the good, out with the bad…" a quasi-poem of self-therapy
  • 2001-10-12 - A Sigh Caused - Inspired by a dream; need I say more?
  • 2001-11-15 - A spark of idealism | Your Image - Two poems, the latter of which is one of my personal favorites.
  • 2002-01-19 - Snow Cadence - A poem about snow, music, and you
  • 2002-06-04 - All The Beautiful Things Of The World - "the stars are bright on a blanket of fading indigo"
  • 2002-07-16 - Our Extended Flirtation - A short poem about people who sometimes annoy the fuck out of you just by being there (I manage to put it more poetically in the poem (how fitting!)).

    PROSE

  • 2001-08-26 - Ah, vicious cycles… - "Come to me! Hold me! Drown out my thoughts with hallucinatory bliss!" a quasi-story of self-therapy
  • 2001-10-23 - Echo - Calling out in the darkness for anything, anything...
  • The Dealing With Going Away Series - You Make Me Happy (2002-03-22) and Will I Ever See You Again? (2002-03-28)
  • eamonn owens

    happy happy blah blah blah

    hi.
    happy anniversary, o journal. remember?

    i have a neat thing all thought up and prepped to post as a sort of celebration, but at the mo i am really really sick with a really really nasty ear infection, have been since the weekend. the only reason i even have the energy or motivation to post this is because i'm just out of a strange, half-delirious, codeine-induced sleep (which i will meet again very shortly).

    so. i just wanted to post and say, happy anniversary, and that when i'm feeling better, i will post the special thing :).

    and apologies for not being a good talkative friend this week... in any form.
    eamonn owens

    ri ra!



    Lavin's originally opened in the town of Swinford in county Mayo on the wind swept west coast of Ireland in the year 1889. There it stood unchanged until 1998 when it began its journey to Providence. Now this wonderful example of a traditional shop bar is centerstage in Rí~Rá Providence.

    Throughout the entire pub you will find items of antiquity and interest. The iron pillars at the entrance to the pub, for example, were part of the original steam driven machinery from the cotton mills in Drogheda, County Louth. They originate from the early 1800's. The parlor bar, c. 1850, was recovered from a Georgian property in Dublin that was gutted by fire in 1995.

    Of particular interest is the stain glass panel in the gothic bar. Dating from the 1600's, it is an early example of glasswork. It has been re-leaded, but look closely and you will see that the glass is uneven and irregular in thickness. Glass at that time was blown and flattened by hand before it cooled. Also of interest in the gothic bar are the pillars and paneling that came from Belfast, c.1700's. (Look closely at the wood paneling in the gothic bar and you can see the shadow of the numbers that once hung on it are stained into the grain of the wood.)

    No visit to Rí~Rá Providence is complete without a look at the authentic Dublin Harp, made by Egan's of Dawson St. With its fittings of brass and carvings decorated with the original gold leaf, it is believed that this harp was once played in the Irish National Symphony.
    eamonn owens

    Our Extended Flirtation

    I feel your eyes, on me
    I look away, coquettishly
    or perhaps, merely to avoid
    your constant, darting stares
    your presence, unavoidable
    your fascination, unmistakable

    I roll my eyes, wish you'd leave
    but at the same time, wish you closer
    I am torn between conflicting sides
    of what to do with you
    and perhaps you are, too
    which may explain
    our extended flirtation
    eamonn owens

    written at ri ra #2

    "You ran off with my pen last night."
    "No, I didn't! I gave it to Colin."


    Man, he's stingy with the black. They haven't started yet. Boo. And so here I sit, wondering if I should edit. *off to edit*

    "We can't have our regulars stranded. That would be bad for business."
    "I could have stayed the night. That would have been good for business, no?"
    "It wouldn't be the first time that's happened!"


    letting settle the hair of the dog...
    These 'tenders are good. They work in packs, the best of them. Or at least in pairs. They are teasing me with this music. Sporadically playing talking laughing in between don't you dare! Oh here we go the flow flow makes me think of the meadow I haven't seen fields for so long melody meadow mirth mist not in that order of course but close flow flow I don't know I don't know what this is supposed to evoke I just keep thinking of endless fields of green grass sheep munching away and the sea going swish swish along with it now what good is any of this if I keep quoting Butcher Boy and nothing more? Oy I mean och I need a break a drink.

    "Writing again?? You've been writing non-stop since last week."

    There are so many reasons to keep on the pen cap but it's just too restrictive - they try to talk to me I just wish I cared er could... because that's really all it tis - the half and half stares are me relentlessly, go climb a meadow! Please let our lady have mercy oh but she can't! Why not I say? Because that's not her job the disembodied voice says. I wish I was facing the other way I could you know it's not that difficult was that humming?

    I wonder if it's a Sunday problem - what a miss out considering how kickin' this place is when mediocre cover bands are here but that's just cuz it's Saturday isn't it? I was just going to write hooray for blank pages but they're not blank anymore are they? At least this one isn't this is so inspiring or maybe it's just drunk.

    What is it about attraction anyway? Sometimes it's pure lust based on the physical, sometimes it's spiritual, and sometimes you just want to know a person's innards, and when it's all three, whoa-ho, look out. Especially if they have a nice smile.

    So EMPTY good lord it's kinda nice but sometimes one just wants to talk to someone oh my god did I just say that? Oh sure I could talk to C & C but they're busy working though humoring randomly coquettish, mental love-starved (ha-ha) customers is probably clearly stated in their job description, still! Exactly that. Boy this is depressing let's move on melody meadow milk crate? I am too cocky so I will probably not find one tonight.

    Guinness Is Good For You. Guinness is a strange thing. It has to sit for a long time I wonder why ba-ba-ba-ba no that's not a sheep just me scatting to the meadow music my it's marvelous and forced alliteration is just unfortunate but accidental is nice I don't know if that flowed but I think somehow it did - oh look at me I am on a roll! For anything of worth or importance? Probably not but at least I have finally realized the vital importance of being earnest. I need to see that again, oh Colin, Firth that is, was that some weird connection or just misplaced precognition (presque vu!) yes I rather like to think it is.

    I love this fucking place I am going to miss it perhaps more than anything even if it is a chain.

    EVIL. just plain evil!
    ditto.

    I'm either fizzling or just in need of a break.
    brake? ha ha!
    groan...

    Blue feet. That's gotta be worth something. Even if they aren't cerulean. I was just going to say quit breathing I mean talking youse bastards but then they started now they've stopped don't tease me!

    Don't look at me. I am INVISIBLE with a capitol I.
    You can go away now yeah I mean YOU!

    Sitting down to pee, is a biological inadequacy.

    Writing really does take away any extroversion I may have within me, somewhere...
    and extroversion = social!

    "The ladies will lead and the gents will follow...
    a real life sort of thing."


    Don't call me love unless you mean it, you bastard!
    and suddenly he's heavy on the black!
    I guess he knows I cannot get stranded tonight.

    How they can create such flawless, beautiful music...

    I wonder how set they are on making good tips?
    What, i.e., would they do for them?! Hee...

    I should come here the night before I leave.
    I can't believe I'm leaving. What then? O, that's the horror of it. But it's also the beauty of it. Not knowing. Scares the shit out of me and yet it's all I want.

    Man, they should market that shit.
    I say to myself, no more.
    "Ready for another one, love?"
    And that's all's about it!

    That was neat. Gave away my copy of Twisted Love. Someone noticed!
    The dude just did a theatrical poem for me. It somehow went along to the music. "I am a McFlynn!" he said, that is the only key to his identity. The rest is a mystery. He ran off with my book leaving my empty in an Irish meadow - a meadow which the thrives on the beauty of not just people but of words... and not always conventional beauty. Whatever is allowed to be free, is whatever is allowed to experience their own perspective on beauty... in whatever form it may take. How inspiring! Quick encounters such as these, durations which continue onward, in different forms. How dare he interrupt my writing! I yelp as he interrupts my writing or perhaps my writing was just interrupted. Quick human interaction when one has no solid base, seems to be that much more significant. But I don't know. I've thought of that tonight. I've been at too many places for nights within the last week. Haven't been home since Tuesday - however many days ago that is - the pen going to the music I want my potato cakes what a sweetie he opened the gate - end

    In the bathroom I was thinking, why do I want someone to share things with? I've done it on my own all along, haven't I? Then I though, wait, maybe that explains a lot. Because who was there to keep me from going insane? Something to ponder...

    One of the musicians reminds of me Delaney. Aw, Delaney. What a doll, even if he did only want youth by association. Youth is usually a burden, when interplayed with those older. But not always.

    "We try to keep is clean around here thank you very much."
    "Don't you dare talk to me in that Gaelic brogue!"

    I always feel so protective of people - I don't like that woman harassing my Corky.

    But being introspective can be fun, too.
    You just need to learn how to do it gracefully in public.

    "You charged me for 4 of these, but I think this is 5."
    "Oh, that's fine, I must have missed one. Very honest, though!"

    Sometimes the beauty of this music makes me want to cry -
    as of yet, I haven't quite figured out why.

    They seem to know that I like to wait for the foam at the end to turn into liquid and then drink it. Otherwise, they're lazy.

    "If you're gonna get cancer, get it from a natural cigarette, right?"

    Whistle while you work, Corky ole boy!
    eamonn owens

    stranded at ri ra

    I am still a bit hungover, so pardon the anticipated lack of rhyme or reason.

    This is a good story. Promise.

    Last night I went to the Mahers as promised, with a six-pack of Guinness. Siobhain and Dennis were there, as well as Siobhain's boyfriend Chris. The two were planning on going out, and we decided to go to Ri Ra (big shock (I think I'm suffering from Irish overload (if there is such a thing, ha!))) Anyway - one of Sean's ex-girlfriends, Melissa, came along with me. When we got there, it was insanely packed. Saturday night, cover band, $5 cover charge. A first for me. We snuck in the side door so we wouldn't have to pay. (Later, I went out to get my cloves and on the way back in, they'd locked the side door. I went to the front and told the guys, "I was just here, but the side door is locked." They let me back in without charging me :).)

    We got our drinks - from, of course, my Two Favorite Bartenders - and tried to find seats. We couldn't, so we resumed our standing spots by the bar ("Whatever's closest to the booze!"). At one point, this guy came over to order a drink, and in the process brushed up against Melissa. He vehemently apologized - "I am so sorry, for whatever that was!" He said, "I'm not exactly sure what I brushed up against - don't tell me! I'll get red."

    To which I replied, "You already are!" He covered his face and turned away in exaggerated embarrassment.

    This brought about the introductions. His name was Bob, which, he said, was just his "stage name. He said he performed on bar tops to get the crowd going. Total bullshit, of course - and for that I immediately liked this guy.

    We found a table and grabbed it, sans Bob. He kept coming up to us, though - and he sure was making the rounds. He admired my tattoo and did some silly moves emulating a dragonfly - "Is that part of your act" Eventually I made some actual conversation with him. He's from Long Island, here temporarily, here in town making a film with some brothers from Federal Hill. We talked about the biz and life and whatnot, and eventually he went back to making the rounds.

    When I turned back to the table, Siobhain was giving me The Look. "What's up with Robert?" she asked. I shrugged.

    It was a great night. I loved hanging out with them, especially, of course, Siobhain. As I wrote in the last entry - yeah, we're very different, but we also connect in many ways. We have similar senses of humor, and she brings out my female side, which has been dormant for how many years?

    That's another thing. Because as much as a tomboy as I am, as often as I feel I was born into the wrong sex, the women thing has sometimes been working for me lately. And I don't mean the girl thing. I mean the female pheromone thing. It's the not shaving, I tell ya!

    Back to Bob, as that sort of came up. He was talking to Melissa, and afterwards he came up to us and said, "She really turns on the girl thing, doesn't she?" "How do you mean?" I asked. He proceeded to demonstrate how she got really touchy-feely when talking to him. I laughed. "That's funny; I don't have that at all."

    "No you don't!" he replied. "You're just yourself."

    During an Irish drinking song, he pulled me off my seat after a few flirtations and dragged me around in some random dance. At the end he gave me a big hug :).

    At the end of the band's set, me and Bob went outside for some air. I told him I knew a good spot - on the river.

    Oh, wait - but before that. As the set was ending, I knew I wanted to get his phone number. I went up to the bar and asked Corky for a pen. As he gave me one and a sheet of receipt paper he said, "Writing again, are you?"

    Outside with Bob, all I had was the pen and paper. My shoes and cloves were back at the table. These are important details, I promise.

    So Bob and I sat by the river and talked a bit. Goofed off, had an ice-spitting content, the whole slam. Shortly I said, "We should probably head back." Siobhain had mentioned needing to be back, because she had to work at 6:30. I felt bad running off, so I didn't want to stay out of sight for too long. On the way back, I got his phone number. He said he hoped to hear from me and we parted at the door. He ran off to the Biltmore and I ran into a brightly lit, quickly emptying Ri Ra in the process of being cleaned.

    They weren't at the table. Neither were my shoes or cigarettes. I looked all around, outside. Their car was gone. "Oh, shit," I thought. I wandered back into Ri Ra. (What was terribly amusing is that I live a 10-minute walk from Ri Ra, but my stuff was in Warwick, which is 20 minutes away and I'm staying in Rockville, which is an hour away.)

    Colin asked as I approached him, "Coming tomorrow night?"

    "Of course!" I smiled and told him my "however I have a problem" story.

    He said, call a cab? I said, they have my money. He said he'd give me the fare, granted I'd pay him back tomorrow. "Oh, thank you, thank you." With his $20 in hand, I took off for the Biltmore. How lucky I am to be a regular, eh!

    I hopped into a cab. He got me there for $14. I kept laughing at my situation. He joined in on the laughter when I told him.

    The pheromone thing, I'm telling ya. A regular damsel in distress. While searching outside, some guys in a truck asked me where the party was. In the cab, some other guy in a van motioned for me to come and join him. At first I thought, maybe I know him, but then I knew I didn't so it was pretty weird. Then the cab driver started saying some subtle shit (wow, that was good alliteration.) This is probably not a big deal for most women, especially if you're dressed like one (which I'm not usually, but I happened to have been!). But - I never get that. Ever. And like I said, lately it's been working for me. Now the next step is attracting someone who doesn't just ask me where the party is ;).

    When I got back, Chris and Dennis were up. Apparently, I'd been at the river with Bob a helluva lot longer than I thought. But they took my cloves and my shoes and my bag, which had been in the car.

    I still had the paper. I'd given the pen back to Colin.

    At that point, I wasn't at all tired. It was about 2:30. We all had another drink in the basement, talked, saw 4 a.m., and crashed. I awoke at nine, and no one was up. I got my stuff and drove back to Rockville.

    I am waiting to go to Ri Ra. It's Sunday night, and I promised Colin I would pay him back.

    The nights, they just keep getting more interesting. If this keeps up I'm going to have a full social life just in time for me to leave the state.