Quitting

Well everyone, It's been fun. 5 months of blogging, and 94 odd posts, some odder than others. But like Pat K, every so often it can be good to re-evaluate, and having discussed it with the goldfish, I've decided it's time to quit while I'm ahead.... Ahead of what I'm not exactly sure, but this blog will end now - effective immediately. Thanks to everyone who ever read it/ commented etc and best of luck for the future to all my bloggy friends...

This week's Fad

I have a teeny bit of an addictive personality - not that you hang around with me for 10 mins and get all high - no...no... it's more a thing that I get into things, and get kinda very very enthusiastic about them, and stick with them for awhile.

Ask the girl in the school tuck shop who sold me burger bites EVERY day for 5 years solid.

Ask the tobacco shaped shadows left on the walls where I lived years ago when I'd have 3 cigarettes before I even awoke.

Ask my employers who only saw me have 1 sick day in the last 10 years (of course it was the one year there was an attendance award.)

Ask the nice people on the door at Nighthawks who've seen me never miss a night yet.

This week you have to ask my strained calf and neck muscles, yes my friends - this week's little addiction is dancing. Last monday saw myself and himself attending a dance lesson. It was fun. Reminded me how much fun you can have challenging your feet to do silly things in time to music. Last saturday whilst abandoned and bereft, I decided to get in some extra practise. In a disco bar. There was a terrible mix of music, but it all ended well with a play of Nirvana and the sore and strained neck that now bravely, somehow... holds my head up. And we're going dancing - again - in just over an hour, and I'm pretty sure there's no head banging required in the Cha Cha, or the Jive, but my little calves will wish they were veal by the time I'm finished with them...

Peplums and Batwings

You'd never know to look at me that I'm not majorly into shopping. Hard to believe I know. In fact I've just for the first time (just now this minute) started looking at clothes shops online. See I'm nearly half way through writing the difficult second novel, and have realised that I should perhaps give my characters some clothes. Unexcitingly they will have to have been wearing these clothes since the start, so I'll be going back and covering their modesty in due course. However - I will first have to take a diploma or a night course in clothes words. There's a lot of them out there. Luckily - like the way you don't have to actually know the Kreb's cycle in order for your mighty little mitochondria to faithfully carry it out, keeping you alive despite your ignorance - clothes will work whether you know what they're called or not, long as you put the right bits of yourself through the right holes. I never knew it before when I was sporting Peplums and Batwings, sometimes at the same time. But I'll know now. Will you?

STAGS

My Fiancee is having his stag this weekend, off having fun he is... without me... How dare he. I'll soon fix that - fun? FUN? there'll be no more fun when we're marriaged, it'll be all henpecking, nagging, ball and chaindom forevermore. We'll get boilers upgraded, worry about how much energy is wasted every time we boil a kettle, watch the late late religiously, take care of our goldfish, talk about the toothpaste tube, and whether or not one large slice of cheese or two smaller slices of cheese work better in a sandwich... It'll be great. Enjoy your last few nights of freedom my love... you'll never be let out again.

Bwaa ha ha ha ha ha

Today's word

Today's word is Dipthong - really only by way of introduction to the real word of the day - coming up soon, but first hands up anyone who knows what a dipthong is...

Apparently it's when 2 sounds run smoothly into each other - like the oohwa oohwa sound in the chorus of the "Video killed the radio star" song.

Oohwawoo - would therefore be a trypthong, or a tripthong, depending on your spelling preferences, or indeed if you cared what the right spelling was...

So Oohwaweehooyaawee would be a (drumroll please) - count them if you don't believe me ... it's a "Sexthong" - yes - it's a proper english language word for a little known english language phenomenon that, as far as I'm aware only occurs in that rarely used word "Noohwaweehooyaaween."

As Mr VCTB pointed out when we were musing on this - it would probably be called a hexthong if such a thing existed, darned english language namers of grammarial things and their lack of a sense of fun...

The Slippiest Pole in Dublin

This pole was so slippy, even the warning sign (which says "Caution Slippery" for those who can't read my blurry photos) fell prey to its slitheriness. Just another one of those silly things that make me smile from time to time, and speaking of silly slippy oily things....

In other news I've found out what was causing it (as a certain queen replied when asked why she stopped having kids after no. 6 or 7). But nothing so profound for me; I found out what was causing the tree skin problem back in January, by reading the writing that was written on the container that held a certain oil that I was using at the time, first to try and avoid any development of dry skin after my aqua fit sessions, then to try and alleviate the hideous rash which kept getting worser and worser till I ceased using all "products" of any kind. The container tells me, in lovely teeny tiny orange fancy writing, that I should apply this essential oil in the shower and wash it off very quickly afterwards... So now I have an oil that I know will make any part of my skin all thick and tree like, albeit itchy and flaky as hell as well, I'm wondering should I throw out the shamrock stencil, just in case I'd be tempted....?

Fairweatherfandom

Yes, the greens won something, so I was sure to join in, go along to support them coming home, like the hippocritical fair weather fan that I am. Giving in to the pull of the mob, the attraction of all being in one place, having seen the same thing, cheering together for an achievement, replayed on a big screen, like a bunch of trained seals we waved our free flags from the sponsor, that weren't secured onto the little lollipop stick flag poles by anything, so that most ended up on the ground.

It was nice. The togetherness, in happiness. Until..... a girl with big hair and a tiny jewel collared dog positioned herself so her hair was all that two or three of us could see, obliterating the sky she was standing so close. And then.... when the team came out, and I had to ask was it them, cos I didn't know them in their clothes, and the sound was gone on the loudspeakers, so we hadn't a clue what they were saying, and people were shouting "Speak Up" in Monty Python accents, and roaring "I paid my TV license" for no apparent reason at all. And the happiness went slightly astray, and we all felt a bit pointless, and sad. Then Bow sang Black Velvet Band, roared into the mike, so we could actually hear it and we all joined in, watching the big screen to see his image catching up slowly with the sound. Ah yes, must watch more sports, sports are great, and not at all boring. Lads, on the team, I know you probably all read this, so well done, and make sure the sound is sorted for the homecoming next year.

The Latest Late Show

It's been a long while since I've given you the low down on the Late Late, especially for my international readers, since I know everyone in Ireland watches RTE every night, all night. (Not switching over to see the Simpson's historic landing in Ireland on an English Channel).

Anyway last night was cringeful... particularly bad, worse even than usual. Having said that it was oddly gripping too, morbidly fascinating.

First up was little Jack Lynch, who grabbed hearts all round with his cool break dancing in pint size - you'll find him here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kesoof73n_k&feature=related. He's brilliant, and way way cooller than our friend Pat, who asked him would he consider painting his skin because most of the best break dancers are black. Yes that's what he asked. The seven year old looked at him like he was mad.

He had Ronan Keating on, to mildly chat about the cd of covers that his Mam used to like. Ronan was emphatic about the fact that Boyzone was his main job, tho Pat did his best to stir it - "Going solo again then?" So that Ronan had to repeat about five times that "No it was just a side project" the mammy's charity cd - twas like an inquest.

Later we had some chef that made Gordon Ramsey cry - Pat asked "Was he just not enough of a man then?" the chef hesitated, not believing such a question had been asked, when Pat followed with "Or was he showing his feminine side?" as he giggled nervously.

Ah but in the end it was all worth it, to see him uncomfortably wrestling through an interview with an impressionist who was so bad that you couldn't tell when he was trying to be someone, and when he was trying to be himself. Apart from the Bob Geldof impression that started his career.

After all this we were rewarded and kept glued to the sofa by an intrigueing debate about the role of the senate, in which Pat's foot in mouth syndrome was rather useful in keeping the octane levels where they needed to be - a vein popping, shouting, fighting to the death kind of debate, really good, and informative. Pat was a bit one sided, which the senators kept spluttering over, but they did get across some great points too, and actually gave me a good education on what they do for a living, and some of them anyway convinced me that they do work hard, not sure how many of them work 70K hard, but then who does? Yerman at the start of that (can't remember his name) had a five minute soapbox which was really great as well, very well delivered.

3 Marketeers who should be shot

Now I'm not for a second trying to incite violence here, so let's imagine I want them shot with a supersoaker full of slightly runny fried eggs...

Ok - now that that's out of the way - the 3 marketeers who most deserve to be lined up and shot are:

In third place: Whoever's responsible for the new Aero ad - with the skateboarder skating through the brown balloons. Not only is it creepy, in a kind of remember the film with the neighbours and the underground worms - was it Tremors? but the balloons look completely like Maltesers, not a bit like Aero bubbles at all.

A close Second: The property developer from Cavan, spending a fortune on ad space during the Late Late show, claiming that all his houses come with "An impressive list of UNIQUE STANDARD FEATURES" Things like walls maybe - we're all individuals.

And Coming First in the covetted Marketeers who should be shot (albeit with a slightly warm soft breakfast ingredient) -> Whoever put the claim on my jar of coffee

"Good to remember: Coffee contributes towards your daily fluid intake"

Hmmm - so would diluted Strychnine, or a glass of liffey water, but don't try to tell me I should have 5 a day.

Blog from the Past

Somethin I just came across in an old diary - names and places changed to protect identities.

Paddy's Day 99

Sitting in bed drinking lemsip, give it a stir. She has the kind of cold where everything that touches you including clothes, hair and lemsip hurts your skin. Paddy's day was spent in the home town with the dog. The mother went to the local parade where the hospital had a group of old people being wheeled along in their chairs waving.
In the city all's well, 2 girls study for exams, a couple have finally been left alone to watch Armageddon. Boyfriend has an exam on friday. Eveyone else is out on the piss and her tongue hurts, as does the rest of her digestive system and the rest of every other system in the body. You'd swear she'd be organised with all her systems. Tomorrow she finds out her fate for the summer - Belgium, England, Finland, Germany? interesting day that'll be.
Halfway through the lemsip now. Soon a fag and then sleep. She hates when stories go nowhere. Oh and a complete stranger rang today - might as well have been since she hadn't a clue who it was. Pissed drunk they asked her to a party friday. Ow Ow Ow sore head & throat & tongue. Might give that cigarette a miss. Yeah. Cutting down anyway. Ok but just half....

Happy Saint P Day

This ingenius Shamrock Stencil convinced everyone of the professional approach I was taking to my art, and I succeeded in getting the indelible ink onto almost everyone there. Happy scrubbing!

PizzAnticipation

The floors have had the shock of being mopped for the first time in 2 years. The corners have been cleared of unecessary clutter (of course all the necessary clutter remains). Various Cushions have been plumped and evenly spread out in the sitting room. I'm wearing a Green (paddy's evening) evening gown and pink fluffy socks. My mother's Pizza, -made famous by it's appearance in "A Taste of home" and as catered by the great woman herself, is ready to assemble, sauce in the pot, cheese in fridge, freshly baked bases in dishes. It could only be my first ever dinner party - with real adults and everything, one that hopefully won't turn into a food fight like a certain birthday party that some readers of this blog may (or may not) remember. I can't help thinking there's something missing though - everyone has been advised to wear green, but if they don't? if they decide they're too cool? That's it, I've to dig out the face paints before they arrive - see y'all then folks... pictures tomorrow... perhaps...

The Experiment Ends

Ok - so Normal service resumes: For anyone who's dropped in over the last week and a half and wondered why there was only one update, and the comments were even more irrelevant than usual - it's because I was performing a test, an experiment - to see what would happen, if I took the blog down every day... Where there riots in the streets? People staying up all night watching their computers? my veiwership increased by the thousand as people wondered - what am I gonna miss if I don't keep checking it? Not really. So I've decided to go back to the old ways - the heart on sleeve, you can come in any time and see everything that's been going on in my little head whenever you want, kind of format... Here's a game for you first - try and match the comments to the posts - the dates will help I guess.

I'm afraid I'm too lazymistic to put back up the photos that came with these, they won't copy and paste over too easily - and it already took long enough to put all the post titles in bold - ouch my head hurts - - -

Too Busy and Important to Blog – 4th Mar 09


I wanted to get a stand in amateur part time blogger to do the hard work for me tonight, but he's gone off to bed with a good book - deserting me here with the key bored. Maybe another time.


In the meantime enjoy my cheerful poem that I wrote during lunchtime on Monday (unless you're in my Group - in which case close your eyes till saturday) - it's called



5th Mar 09

What if I just keep editing the same old blog post over and over again - ie without leaving the old posts in place? Then is my blog more like a web page? Does it put more pressure on my readers to keep up and read every single day in case they miss something new? Will it make comments look silly because they'll all be old and irrelevant? Does it make me more cool and elusive because you will no longer have a historical record of my thoughts and actions? Or does it make me look lame and lazymistic for not having updated the blog since yesterday - when really I did update it today - really I did.
Well just to prove it, how else would I know that today's big news is that there's a big 2 litre bottle of bulmers on the patch of grass in front of my house. And last night I heard some shouting out the front of my house. And I don't drink Bulmers anymore, but it's still annoying me a little - the thoughts of it out there, all alone, not being drunk... Should I take it in? That is the question.




Transience - and the forgotten cider 6th Mar

So here I am - editing 4th of March again - today's really the 6th, but yes it's an experiment, and yes I'm just trying to confuse you....

The benefits of wiping the blog clean every day are actually quite extensive now that I think of it. Like a blackboard or one of those yokeys that break after your tenth drawing - what the hell were they called? Anyways - this won't break after the tenth replacement, but you know what I mean.


The benefits are as follows:

A: It's eco friendly - saving space on the World Wide Web - leaving my conscience clean and stopping those sleepless nights where I lie awake wondering - am I using up too much cyber space? am I cyber obese? Now I can keep myself cyber lite, cyber trim if you will.


B: It means I can put any old crap up here, and you mightn't get to see it, so I get away with second rate posts, but the mystery of me wiping it away every day will make you worry you've missed something good - like the forgotten cider - which might've been the best thing ever, but only the super current followers will know that.


3: The Comments will be out of date - and confuse and excite you all at once - predictably I'm going to come up with a new double barrel word for that state I've put you in - concitement or excusion - but it won't matter, cos it'll be gone tomorrow or the next day


D: I'm a bit uneasy with the way blogs show exactly when you've posted em anyway - so this way you won't know really when, because all posts will be from 4th March, so you won't know for example if I update every single day, or if I leave it a week or two, (unless you're checking every day - which is to be recommended if you don't want to miss something brilliant - like the cider, or the poem that made me cringe so much I wanted to take it back down thus giving rise to this whole crazy idear)


E: I needn't worry so much about having absolutely brilliant photos all the time, since they'll only be up for a short while anyway - dunmatta!


There's more benefits but they will be saved for another time. Feel free to add some to the comment box - to concite future readers even more. Bwa hahahahahh; MAD I am


7th Mar



This blog lives forever in the 4th March.... It won't get with it, catch up and live in the now. Won't follow the weight watcher's ad's advice and embrace the present.

I am blogging more than ever but my updates only show on the one page, yesterday's is wiped, so if you miss it, you missed it. It's not that I'm experiencing technical difficulties, it's more going on the thought process that what's rare is more valuable. Plus I look like my life is full and exciting and wonderful - since I only got round to blogging twice in March - apparently.

Or - I'm rewarding repeat purchase, turn on, tune in, and then don't drop out... This is to be the watercooler blog - go to work monday, stand around the watercooler and say, oh I saw it saturday, oh no I missed it, what happened? OMG - it was so cool... etc etc. That's if you have a watercooler - or if you have work, or indeed legs to stand around on, or come to think of it a computer and the leisure time to look at blogs.

8th Mar
Edit DNA, Emit


If you could edit your DNA as easily as I can edit this day - 4th Mar - the infamous ground hog day of the blog world - what would you change?
Would you, like me, choose to finally emit the lifelong tendancy to be irrationally early for everything? Or would it be the usual boring kind of thing - I'd swap my DNA for a bit of Angelina's or Brad's?
Ok ok, I don't actually have a point here, but since it's only up temporarily, and I think very very few of you look at the web on the weekly day of rest, or even early of a monday, and if you do you'll be sad enough to laugh at this - I just realised "Edit DNA, Emit" is "timE, AND tidE" backwards, and time and tide apparently wait for no man, and nor does this blog - it'll be wiped clean again tomorrow.
If I ever have daughters I might call them time and tide. Wouldn't that be clever? Yep - until someone starts mocking one of them for being called after a washing up powder.... perhaps



Cushions meets pillows – 9 Mar


Went to see "the pillow man" last night - not the 3rd Mar - but those of you who are following every day will know why that is...

It was a KATS production, the very successful Galwegian amateur drama group, and only a group of their calibre would dream (Dream - geddit - pillows? dreaming? - ah forgeddit) of taking on such a difficult piece of work. It's been my first encounter with a Martin McDonagh play, and it was pretty amazing stuff. Dark, shocking, funny and thought provoking.
By the way - how much is it irritating ye all? This deleted history business - the fact that my old posts are now vanishing in the ether instead of hanging around politely awaiting your attention? Is it causing you to lose sleep? Do you wake up screaming? Would it be very sad if I got up in the middle of the night to post twice - so that no one would ever see at least one of my posts? Why would I want to do that? I don't know - but will you be staying up all night watching tonight just in case?

Thought I'd find you.... 10 Mar



Would you believe that after 21 mind numbing - sunsoaked years - "Home and Away" writers are still contract bound to include the line "Thought I'd find you here" in every single episode. I was watching this afternoon when the immortal words were uttered by the young one, who found the young fella in a boat - the young fella she was trying to save from his drug dealing girlfriend, who promptly arrived on the scene. The girlfriend couldn't say "Thought I'd find you here" because it had already been used. God it brought me back tho' - to the college days, watching home and away twice a day - 1.30 and 6.30 pm - once I thought they used "Thought I'd find you here" twice in one of the episodes, in a slip by some writer who'd have to be fired on the spot; but realised I'd simply fallen asleep between episodes, so thought it was still the same one, when in fact it was the later one. No - that's all lies actually - I never slept from one episode to the other. Never I tell you - NEVER!!!!
- yes this deleting daily thing is curiously liberating - as predicted it means I can put any old rubbish up... I'd highly recommend it.


Beware the "I'd"s of March


March 11th - think that's the "I'd"s.


I'd have a washboard stomach, if I'd been going to the aqua fit lately
I'd be confusing a lot of people instead of just a few, if I'd more readers right now.
I'd have room in my stomach if I hadn't been eating curries all day, and wouldn't therefore annoy my Aunty who's cooking a delectable dinner as we speak.
I'd like to have seen the film "I'm not there".. but I haven't.
I'd be totally with it - if I only knew what "it" was.
Dangerous things the "I'd"s

No Lion on the horizon – Mar 12


There's a view from the roundabout hill, the roundabout that leads to the earth blocked bridge over the M50. From the hill you see a clean long line, diagonal greay that stretches across cutting land from fuggy sky - the prison. Then a few trees in between and another slope catches your eye - a newer grey with a thick slash of cheerful redbrick red beneath, dotted with little squares of cardboard, for sale signs, apartments. Another prison.

In one they are stuck to a rigid, mind numbing routine, day after grinding day, trying to make the most of their time in this miseraburbia. In the other they look forward to release.

4 Things I've learned in the last 24 hours - 13 Mar

1. Shouting "CONCENTRATE" at the top of your voice in a room full of shouting, messing, fun having teenagers - does not in fact make them concentrate.

2. Arriving 1 hour early at the dentist doesn't make him see you any earlier, in fact he will probably make you wait till half an hour after your appointment was supposed to happen, just to show you he won't be pressured.

3. Giving a pigeon a dirty look over your shoulder, will often result in said pigeon giving you a look back.

4. As you get closer to the river, the spikes on top of the fences are more likely to have emptied cans of cheaper and cheaper beer impaled on them as opposed to the coffee cups and little lattee buckets to be found further inland.

Funny side of ashes

Went and got ashes put on my forehead last week, the usual attractive smudge, to remind us all of the cheerful fact that we're all going to die (as if we'd froget, or even forget about that) (trust us to arrange to meet our priest the one day he'd have physical at a glance proof of whether we were really in the club or not) - so be good for goodness sake.

The funny side of it was that they were providing a take out service, with little bags so you could bring home some ashes if you wanted. Ok that's not the funny bit yet - the funny bit is what kind of little bags were used - they were bank bags. Yep - same ones you normally put your coins into, but since no one has any mula anymore we might as well keep our little bit of burned something (not sure exactly what it's from) in the old capitalist nonbiodegradable plastic purses. It was a beautiful image I thought...