Annie Rhiannon

{ A drawing of my father by my mother, c.1980 }

Last week was the 20th anniversary of Nirvana's ?Nevermind', which I mostly celebrated by not feeling a need to wear all my dad's clothes at once or thrash around my bedroom in a hormonal rage.{ Read the rest at The Anti Room }

Rita's turning 80 this week and I want to know what she'd do differently with her life if she was starting all over again. I find myself doing this a lot lately: pressing people for more stories and wisdom than they were expecting to have to share. "Body lotion," says Rita, lighting a Silk Cut like a full stop. This conversation is over, my friend. Body lotion! I don't believe her. She just doesn't want to spend another afternoon discussing love and ambition and personal failure. "Okay,...

{ Erotic fiction writer extraordinaire }

?It's amazing what you can fit in to these small cars, isn't it,? says Adrian at Storage World, watching me load up my boxes. I don't think it's in his job description to help with any lifting.?Yes, Adrian,? I say. ?My entire life.?I only say this because that's what people always say when they pack up their physical possessions, but I don't really believe it. I'm more romantic than that and I like to think my life fits in footprints on mountains and in pictures I took in the desert ? not in...

{ Mulligan's beer garden in Stoneybatter }

I feel a little bit unsure when I get back to Dublin, like maybe I don't belong here or something, so I put on my aviator sunglasses and I go out driving. Am I a fugitive or some kind of a lady cop' Nobody knows. I stop to pick up Megan ? magic, magic Megan ? who'd surprised me at the airport when I landed back in Dublin. SURPRISE she'd said, throwing out her arms, and I had been confused and then happy and then I'd started to cry a little bit. But crying at an airport isn't the kind of...

{ with Just' and Vala at midnight in Reykjavik }

This is my little goddaughter, the daughter of the previously mentioned "David the Postman" who moved in to my spare room all those years ago. David married Arna and had two lovely kids in a small town on the south coast of Iceland, where they built a shed and turned it into a cafe. Next time you're passing Eyrarbakki you should visit. He still bakes amazing bread.

Dear AdrianThank you for your email asking if I'm ever coming back home. I'm pleased to be able to tell you that I've accepted a job in Ireland and I'm on my way back for the rest of the summer. I should be there as soon as tomorrow.You know, it means a lot to me that there are people like you ? real Dubliners ? asking for me and referring to Dublin as my 'home'. When I left town back in March it was like the city no longer had a place for me. I felt crazy and lost, unrooted and alone, and it...