One Month Today

The Fear as really hit me. It's one month today that I embark upon my journey. That would be ok if I could just sit and wait for it to happen but I've still a million and one tings to do. And work is so busy that it's difficult to muster the energy to do anything on my time off.

Today I have to visit the quack and see what injections I need. Then I have to go into town and do pretty much ALL my xmas shopping. Then I have to come home and sort out the mountain of dirty washing that's been piling up in my room. I have to go to the bank and deposit many, many bags of change I've been hoarding. Today is my only chance to do all this as it's my only day off between now and Christmas day (well, I'm off on Sunday but will no doubt be nursing a pretty spectacular hangover after my work xmas do).

So today is rather precious but instead of getting stuck into everything I need to do I've chose to blog about it first. I clearly have my priorities right. Next week my girls get here (Mels and Dirt Bird) so it's important that I get all the mundane stuff out of the way so I can enjoy some quality time with them. Mel, mum and I will partake in a Boxing Day Bun Off, which should be fun, and Dirt Bird has requested a lesson in Nelly's special pancake-making skills. There will be some Weston's Perry (£1.29 a pint and 7.4% alcohol!!!!) drank, whiskey, wine and maybe even a wee Buckfast or too. Buns will be eaten and smokes will be smoked.

Then after I eat like a horse over the festive period I have the pleasure of having a wisdom tooth removed. I may do what Z done and keep my tooth in a little box and take it with me. I don't like the idea of not being so wise. Right, off I go to do stuff that needs to be done.

From A to B

I'm a traveler who doesn't really like traveling. I'm not sure if it's laziness or a disliking to being confined to vessels and timetables. I think it's more the latter as I hate being restricted. Though it is part laziness too as there's so much organising involved and I am not a big fan of organising.

I have been wondering for years now, why haven't they invented teleportation? And not this silly notion of needing portals to get from A to B, no, an actual button at the side of our neck that instantly transports us from one place to the other. So when we're too drunk to walk we can just teleport home.

So anyway, I love being in other places and I don't mind traveling if it's aimlessly, with no place to be at no particular time. But I hate long distance flights and bus journey's. They are long and boring, and I can't get off the plane whenever I want. I always loved the idea of jumping on a train and getting off whenever I felt like it or when I liked the look of a town. Everything's so regimented these days though it's hard to travel with real freedom.

Though, I suppose I should also note that, it's whilst taking these plane and bus journey's that you have some of your best experiences because there's so much opportunity to interact with people. Not only that, the actual traveling part gives you time for reflection, or reading, or writing or knitting (if that's your kind of thing), all of which are enjoyable. I still think they should hurry up and invent teleportation though.

Down The Pub

D put this pic up on Flickr. He titles it Martha's Reaction At Final Whistle He admitted that he used a little artistic license but she was watching the Ireland Vs S. Africa match that Saturday and she Ireland did win so it wasn't total lies.

In other news...I did go into work that next day (after threatening to walk out) and I did say to my boss: I'm giving you my one week's notice, do you want it in writing. I'm still not free from their evil clutches though. I didn't have the heart to let her down over Christmas. My New Year's Resolution is to grow some balls.

Fat Face Freddy's diet totally fell to an arse and, not only that, the good Holly cat is getting kinda chubby too. I think the kitekat self service is back on. Oh, and Auntie Ganching was home last weekend. She regaled me with stories of horrendous bus crashes in S.America and listed off all the dangers I would most definitely face (kidnapping, rape, muggings, murder). I'm all set now to face an almost certain horrific death. Least I'll die in a nice warm country.

Getting Stuff Done

I booked my flight home from S.America to London via Madrid. I'm gonna spend a couple of days in Madrid then I land in London 2 days before Katkins wedding. I'm glad I've booked it because it means I don't need to worry about spending all my money on whiskey. It was also beginning to roar my head looking at endless flights home via different routes. The way that I'm traveling I won't have to back track on myself.

Also, it has put mum's mind at rest that I won't be landing in New York and not allowed into the country because I've no return flight home. That doesn't matter though because I'm worried that they might not believe the person in my passport photo is actually me. It was taken years ago and I've been told many times that I look like a serial killer in it (especially if it's a photocopy).

I also did my online ESTA thingy. They approved it but say it doesn't guarantee me entry into the USA. I maybe should've got a new passport. Especially considering one of Brad's darling cats peed on it in Thailand. I've been sorting stuff out left, right and centre but it still feels like there's a lot to do. I'm currently trying to delete all the shite off my itunes so I've got the perfect playlist for traveling. I remember when me and Earthworm Jim went backpacking round Europe we spent days making several mini disc compilations. We bought external speakers for it and stocked up in loads of batteries. We remembered to bring everything but the mini discs. Now technology is so clever I don't have to worry about bringing the discs. But I will cry if I forget my ipod.

When Bad Days Turn Good

It's funny how sometimes it can take 'til about 10 O'clock at night before your day starts getting good. I only started work (the shit job) at one today but 7 minutes in and I was already enraged. Mum called in to get her purse at two and she said she could feel the anger. I'm not normally like this but I think I'm pretty stressed about going away and trying to juggle two jobs while fitting in time for everything else. Not to mention that I'm still feeling pretty bluee about breaking up. I felt like an absolute demon today.

But demon's must be entitled to some joy too because I had the pleasure of seeing little Martha not once, not twice but thrice. My dad also had good news today and I couldn't be more chuffed for him! And within the space of a couple of days I've found 3 people to meet up with in Mexico. The most important being young Danny Boy who came to visit me in Thailand. And while he was sitting at Noom's bar one afternoon as I was at school he befriended a dude, Chris, from Australia and a chica from Canada, Melodie. Later that night Danny proposed to Melodie and then he proposed to Chris. He also proposed to a few other people and although romance wasn't in the air for Danny that night, it was for Chris and Melodie who hooked up and have been together ever since. But they, too, are in Mexico and will be until July so Danny and I will are gonna visit them. Chris has promised to build me basketball hoop!

But definitely the best news of today is that probably for sure I will be getting full time hours with the good job, which means I can tell the boss of the shit job to go boil her head in a pan of fucking oil. Even if it all backfires on me I don't care. I'd rather go to S.America with less money and work there if I have to rather than work myself into a frenzy so that I'm all wound up for traveling, which I know would spoil the first few weeks away. There's more to life than working every hour God sends.

Gosh, is that the time? I need to get a good night's sleep for tomorrow I'll be letting the boss from the shit job know that I don't need the hassle and I just don't care.

My Lovely Sax

I was talking to Mel the other night. She was telling me how she'd paid a fortune for glasses lenses and it gutted her. I wonder how many people actually say "I should have gone to Specsavers" because I know I have. Everything's just a money spin. But how we both laughed as I reminisced about the time I went to trade in my old sax for the new one just after having a tooth pulled. I was in such horrendous pain that I heard the right numbers, I just got them the wrong way round.

I went home all chuffed with myself saying to Bert (who was there and witnessed the part exchange) how brilliant it was that I got a new sax for £80. Then Bert informed me that, no, they'd paid me £80 for my old sax and I'd bought the new one for £200. I didn't believe him 'til I pulled out my card receipt. I was pretty gutted. Then again, I had a new saxophone to console myself with. A lovely saxophone. That gets played once every few months. By Bert.

Nelly Has The Pleasure

So, I contacted Maltesers the other day via their website. I just dropped them a little line to ask about the MaltEaster bunnies they brought out last year. They have reassured me that there are plans to make chocolate bars but they will also be bringing out the bunnies next Easter. This might mean though that someone will have to post me a batch to S.America. God I hate this country but God I love the chocolate.

I'm totally at a loss in my life. Sitting here waiting in limbo for my trip. I feel disjointed. I have no kids, boyfriend, pets or plants. Nothing and nobody needs me and I feel kinda empty and void. The only person who needs me (or thinks she needs me) is Pearlie, and that's for things like taking her stockings off. My calling in life is so glamorous! Yesterday I was let off taking her stockings off due to being in 'bad form'. Nelly had the joy instead. I believe this was the interchange between stocking-taker-offer and stocking-taker-offee:

Offer: Right, so you want these stockings off then?

Offee: Aye, but where's Hannah? Hannah could take them off.

Offer: Hannah's in 'bad form' so I'll do it.

Offee: How could she be in 'bad form' sure she was off work all day!

Offer: That's why she's in 'bad form'. She'd rather be out working.


Anyway, Nelly was half right. I don't mind the odd day off but working all weekend and then having a Monday and Tuesday off isn't great for my social life. On the other hand, though, it is good for my traveling fund.

The Washing Machine Of My Mind

I'm in one of those moods today where I'm wondering: what's it all about? I'm not happy, or sad, just 'Ho Hum'. The pissy weather isn't helping. And I'm wondering why we don't have a National Dancing Day yet because surely that would put a smile on everyone's face.

Dylan Moran has the perfect answer for how he fills his day. He has no hobbies or pastimes, in fact, he finds them sinister. So what does he do with his day? He spends most of his time in the washing machine of his own mind, thinking: What's this? When does it end? Do I like it? I don't know. Oh, it's time to go to sleep. I can't sleep, I'm worried.

I'd quite like to employ a personal assistant at the minute, y'know, someone to basically think for me while I happily forget everything and play escape games. I'm pretty sure I should be making appointments to see the doc about vaccinations and I should probably do my ESTA thing and be looking into health insurance. The days are just rolling by and I'm no further ahead. The only thing that's in my head at the minute are leaving do's. I've already figured I need to have at least 6 parties to incorporate everyone I want to say goodbye to. I'll probably be dying from one big accumulative hangover by the time I board my flight but this actually seems like quite a desirable state to leave in. If I'm hungover I will be too distracted to worry.

Anyone know any good Irish bars in New York?

I Could Boke Thinking About It

Nelly and Bert had pumpkin soup for dinner tonight. It was homemade by Nelly using pumpkin's grown in Nelly's garden and chillies grown in Wee Les' Wee garden (I don't know if it's a wee garden but it can't be too big otherwise Wee Les wouldn't be able to look after it).

Due to bastarding toothache soup seemed like a damn good idea to me, but one mouthful of Nelly's pumpkin soup, with Wee Les' kick ass chillies, was enough for me to know that eating a whole bowlful would be a painful experience. My eyes lingered over the Cup-A-Soup but I thought I'd go for a can of Baxter's Leek and Potato instead.

As I poured the contents from the can I thought it looked different but I heated it up and buttered my bread and sat down to dine. After one spoonful I knew something was amiss. But how could soup from a can be fusty? I asked Bert to taste it but he'd just eaten the last of his marzipan bar and wasn't forsaking the sugary taste in his mouth for anything. I checked the date on the can. Fine. I remarked upon the weirdness of it to mum and she assumed that it was probably just not very nice soup.

So back to my bowl. I dipped some bread in and concentrated on the taste of butter. I ate half a slice of bread then chanced another spoonful. No way! The smell hit my nose before the spoon entered my mouth.

There's definitely something wrong with that soup!

I asked Bert again but he was still enjoying his sugar high. I took the bowl into mum. She sniffed. Just a stinking soup according to her expert nostrils. Then she tasted a mouthful and squealed.

Eeeuuuggghhh!!! It's sour!

I bloody knew it! I knew it yet I tried to endure it. Forced myself to eat half a slice of bread with it. And then the thought of it just turned me. Mum reckoned it tasted like snot. Bert scrunched his face up talking about rancid, slimy leeks. I am a little bit traumatised.

In other news: Fat Face Freddy is off the diet. Bert kept "forgetting" (Bert does have a terrible memory but I'm inclined to believe that he's just too soft to cut down Fred's food intake). So tonight when I walked into the kitchen and saw Freddy devouring a bowl of food the size of a small mountain I confiscated it. And then when I caught him finishing off what was in Holly cat's bowl I confiscated that too. At which point he decided if he couldn't eat the rest of his dinner he was gonna eat poor Holly cat. So, the diet's off. Purely for the sake of Holly cat of course.

Fat Face Freddy

The other night when Nelly was writing this post we got chatting about her obsession for dead animals. I reckoned I must have inherited this desire as I recall, when I was a youngster, taking great pleasure in retrieving any dead mouse or shrew the cat brought back. I liked to give them a proper burial. Mum was wondering was it just a thing children do. I said it must have been as I remembered big sister Z being most appalled when she saw a dead mouse, in a clear plastic freezer bag, sitting on the kitchen table one morning before school. Obviously I hadn't time to bury it before school and was keeping it in the freezer bag for later when I got home. Hey, that's what wee sisters are for. Just like big sisters are for making you believe that bears live in the woods.

We called out to see baby M (not Z or D, just baby M!) after work tonight. I got to have a nice cuddle with Martha. The first proper one in fact. I think this is because I'm not so scared of breaking her now. And she didn't seem so grumpy about being cuddled. She normally cries when placed in my arms. I don't know if it's just coincidence or if she actually hates me.

Fish Face Freddy is officially the fattest cat in Ireland and is now on a part-time diet. I say part-time because if it's Bert feeding him he forgets. All you gotta do is look at his massive bulging gut to remember that he's too damn fat and needs to be on a diet. Also, the kitty hardnuts are no longer accessible on a self service basis. And no more Freddy finishing off the remains of Holly's dinner. Fat bastard!

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

Breaking up is hard to do but there are good break ups and there are bad break ups. I never really talked about my boy on my blog. For a few reasons. For the fact that it's kinda hard announcing that you've met someone you like in an sphere that's so public, especially when you know that the person you like will read it. It's also hard if you're not actually sure where that relationship's going and you're just wanting to take things slowly and casually. It's also hard when you know, even before you've embarked on that relationship, that it was always going to be temporary because you never planned on staying in that place where that person is. You always knew that one day it'd be over because you were going somewhere far away for an indefinite period of time.

Breaking up is hard to do. Especially when you love someone deeply but you knew, right from day one, you never stood a chance. And if I'm giving the impression that this love was one-sided. It wasn't. It was always reciprocated. It was mutual. We showed it in different ways but we both showed it and we both felt it and it was divine. It was a soft, comforting blanket wrapped round our hearts and cheeks and souls. It was what it was and it was enjoyed until it stopped becoming enjoyable.

Breaking up is hard to do. But sometimes it's the right thing to do. And when 2 people can realise this, accept it and leave each other, not with bitterness, but with kind words and respect and appreciation and thought, then it's a good break up. And in my eyes, that's true love. When you care about a person so much that you can let them be free. When their happiness is more important that yours because if they're happy, you'll be happy. And you know it's a good break up if you look at what you've shared and you don't regret a thing, you just try to figure out the lesson that life is teaching you. Aye, there are good break ups and there are bad break ups.

Either way though, it still hurts.

Joy Riding Dreams

The other night I had a dream so damn ludicrous I have to share it with the world. Mel and I were driving in her mum's car. We'd left it briefly to call into a shop to get sweets and when we came back there were 4 young hoody-wearing, joy-riding yobs driving away in the good car. Fortunately, they weren't driving that fast so we were able to chase them. Unfortunately, the only thing I had to stop them from stealing the car was a pair of dirty knickers, which I proceeded to rub in the face of the driver so that he couldn't see where he was going. He crashed, repeatedly, into a lamp post!

Dad, The Lovely Linda and Katkins and her future hubby have joined us in the Land Of Ire for a week of holiday fun and mid term madness. Katy is making a crustless quiche and there's a special Nigelly cake in the fridge. There's Jameson's on the sideboard and I have a mechanic helicopter to construct. Surely it don't get much better than that?

Is Carlos More Crazy Than The Zombie Catepillars?

I have been trying to blog but I think I'm a bit sick of myself. Sick of the things I write and they way I write about them. The weekend was good. I spent Saturday night in the local with a low-key crowd that consisted of some part-time musicians, full-time alcoholics, two woman, both mad but in different ways, a sweet young gay guy who has befriended me, and Carlos, whose possibly from Spain but most likely from the moon.

Carlos is a regular at the bar. He acts like a crazy but harmless fool. But he's crazy in a way which makes you wonder if he's putting it on. I really don't know his story and neither does anyone else. He talks to many but no one really understands him. I can't help get the impression he just finds it easier that way. Pretending to be mad rather than trying to get people to understand him. I was thinking of trying it out for a bit.

I couldn't help but get totally fascinated by the caterpillars that were crawling up the outside window one day last week. I went out for a closer inspection and noticed the caterpillars were lying over these bundles of yellow pods. I asked Bert about them but all he knew was that the caterpillars came from the cabbages. Turns out that tiny wasps sting larvae into the 'pillars and this makes them head up high, where the larvae explodes out of them, killing them. I was reading all about it here. Bert brought some into the house with the cabbages. He said he kept trying to chuck them in the compost but they kept crawling out. That's because they're programmed to head up high so the larvae can explode. Bert should no better than to try to upset the course of nature.

Sweet Eggs

When it comes to cooking dinner I only really have a few dishes; Thai curry (haven't made one of these for ages as my version of a Thai curry takes about 2 hours to make and 2 hours is something I just don't have these days); Fajitas (technically, this is cheating, as I buy the Old El Paso kits); Sausage Surprise (this is a fairly 'loose' dish. The surprise is basically whatever veg and sauces and herbs there are lying around; and, last but not least, omelette.

Last night I decided to make omelette for me and mum. It was a very tasty cheese and ham omelette which was very much enjoyed by mum and myself. But, even when you're the ripe old age of 27 there are still lessons to be learned:

I asked mum if she wanted some bread buttered. She said aye. I asked her did she want plain white bread. She said she'd take a bit of wheaten. I buttered her wheaten and left some dinner in for Pearlie. When I sat down at the table mum said:

By the way, that wasn't wheaten bread, it was treacle bread.

What mad cat baker thought it was a good idea to cunningly disguise some treacle bread as an innocent wheaten soda farl? Aw well, mum wasn't bothered. She said it tasted 'interesting'.

Bad To The Bone (And Pure Clean Rotten)

My tiny little mind may actually inflate to the point of explosion, spraying bits of skull and brain juice everywhere. The dogs will probably come and sniff at it, lick a little bit up. Paddy dog might even stash a bit of my skull away for 'ron.

Talking of bones for the dogs. My friend at work's dad got some more bones for Paddy and Bonnie. She told me this on Monday but I was working at my other job and said I'd get them the next day. Can you see where this story's going? I walked into work on Saturday morning, slightly tired, a wee bit hungover. As I walked in I noticed a funny smell. I was too polite to say anything but then Miss JL mentioned it and I agreed there was, indeed, a bad smell. It wasn't 'til she asked what was in the fridge that I said:

Oh no, I forgot to take those bones for the dogs!

Cue lots of squealing, lots of laughing and the other girl being physically sick. Miss JL was also hungover. What a way to start the day off! And, to be fair, it didn't get much better.

Caught In The Act

I haven't worn a watch for years. I had a Garfield watch when I was younger and, when I lost it, nothing else could replace it. I've had a few novelty ones over the years but their life spans were always limited. Now I just use my mobile as a clock and alarm. But I have strange habits with digital clocks. A while ago, for about 6 months, I had my clock set to half an hour before the real time. It was grand if it was half past something, or quarter to or on the hour but if it was 14:37 my brain struggled to work out what a half hour before that was.

Now I have developed another strange habit and that is to set my alarm clock to random times like 07:36 or 07:13. Of course, this is always about 3/4 of an hour before I actually have to get up and when I hit the snooze a few times it becomes really hard to figure out how long I've got left in bed. I guess the whole point of this exercise is to make sure I'm fully wakened before I have to rise.

I was working at both jobs today. It meant working from 9-9 but I need all the dollar I can get. About half seven tonight (when I was working at the old job) I decided that we needed coffee but there was no milk or sugar. Rather than waste money on buying milk and sugar I decided to run up to the food court an ask one of the cafes if I could take some sachets. I felt kinda rude because I wasn't buying the coffee from them but scabbing their coffee condiments. She was lovely though and told me to help myself. When I turned round I saw a familiar face smiling at me. My boss from the new job. I don't why but I was really embarrassed. And not only that but caught in the act skiving from my other job to get stuff for coffee. Of course he could have just assumed that I was out on a break but I always get all flustered and awkward when I'm doing something I shouldn't be. It also didn't help that when I saw him I jumped and said "Oh, caught in the act!"

Happy

I am now, officially, an auntie! I say officially because I have been, unofficially, an auntie to many, many dogs over the years. I love dogs but I gotta say, being an auntie to a real live human being that will, one day, walk and talk and do many amazing things, well, it's just much better.

Also, my dad's coming to visit at the end of the week and I haven't seen him for ages and it just hit me over the past couple of days how much I miss him. In fact, over the next few weeks it's gonna be very family-orientated and I'm in the mood for embracing them.

Ages ago Zoe gave me a film. It was slide film, which she recommended I get cross-processed. To save myself having to explain, or bore you if you're not interested, here's a wee link that explains cross-processing. So I decided to do a bit of experimenting. I used a macro lens that a chick kindly gave to me years ago and done a few close-up shots of various plants in the garden. I'm not a big fan of flower photography but with the macro lens and cross-processing I managed to get some nice shots.

But the best thing about those photos was that mum, Bert and I sat looking at them together with mum and Bert trying to figure out what plant was what and what shed was what. It turns out I developed the photos back to front though. Aw well, they were perfect other than that. Even Pearlie liked them.

Oh, and did I mention I was an auntie. A real one. To a real person. Her name's Martha and she's gorgeous. She's so great that I'm gracing Next with my present for the first time since leaving there.

The Cryptic Canvas

I got hopelessly addicted to this movie game for a week. I could only get about 15 on my own, then I had a little help from the boy and then, when both of our heads were tortured, I googled the last few answers. I don't know why I embarked upon such a mission as I'm the worst film buff ever. I can watch a whole film and only realise at the end that I've watched it before. I haven't been to the cinema in over 3 years. Couldn't even tell you what I went to see. Although I can kinda still remember the amazing mix-up I got that cost about a million pounds. I hate the cinema.

Anyway, this game done my swede in, big time, but because I had to google the last few answers there wasn't even any satisfaction in completing it. I mean, Iris, who's ever heard of a film called Iris? Take my advice, unless you know a lot about movies, and are good at crypic (and also blatantly obvious) clues, don't start this game.

Give A Dog A Bone

Last Friday the poor dogs were on their own from half eight in the morning to half nine at night. They were beside themselves when me and Jakers landed back Friday night. Nelly and Bert were in the 'burgh of Edin, you see, visiting the Lovely Mel. I went into work o Saturday and Miss JL had a bag of bones for the doggies. She be the daughter of a butcher and so has access to all kinds of bone treats for dogs.

I left them outside in the yard but the dogs weren't one bit interested in them. You'd think that giving dogs a bone would be as easy as, well, giving a dog a bone. They must have thought they weren't allowed them because when I looked outside the bones were gone. Paddy was spotted in the lawn the next day chowing down on a big cow knee bone. Dirty dawg.

I'm still really enjoying my new job. It occurred to me that although I get on with the girls from my old work, they are all young and their interests lie solely around clothes, make-up and clothes. It's refreshing to work with people who are closer to my own age and especially when one of them is my very first best friend ever. Even though we drifted and lost contact for so many years, when I talk to her now I remember why she was my best friend. Also, we are in the same boat. 27, living at home, not sure what to do with our lives. We share the same kind of worries and hopes about life. Jaysus, is that the time? I'm away to make some scran.

Spuds From Nelly's Garden

As we sat down to a feed of spuds tonight Nelly and Bert kept commenting on how awesome the potatoes were. I've heard them, and Pearlie, chatting about great potatoes before but to me spuds are just spuds. Bert commented on the two I picked from the plate saying they were the last two he'd go for. He put my lack of knowing a good potato down to me being half English. If I was pure bred Irish I'd know the difference between a good spud and a bad spud.

So Nelly was asking me if I felt like I was half English and I said I did when I was younger and I thought England was brilliant and Ireland was shit but less so now that I'm older and I think England's shit and Ireland's brilliant. I think I became sentimentally Irish when I went to uni in England and I got sick of having to repeat everything I said and people making 'Irish' jokes and comments about potatoes (Ha! How ironic). And as Dylan Moran points out, English people just can't help mocking our accents. I do love the English though, hating them would be like hating myself. And there are many, many brilliant English people just the same as there are many, many Irish tossers.

1.21 Gigawatts!

Jeez, I just really don't have it in me at the minute to be funny or interesting or insightful. I dunno. I'm happy. I work less at the old job, more at the new job, so I'm earning more money and my work time is one million times better. I've got my boy by my side who's a sweetie. It was mum's birthday last night and we had take-away and champagne and Thorton's chocolates that are so posh neither Bert or I could understand the instructions. Thank god Nelly was there, with her sophisticated vocabulary, to show me and Bert which were the orange and caramel sweets.

It's not even that my life is dull. I just can't blog about most the stuff that I want to. Bert was pulling the lines out of the bag last night and they were hilarious but I can't repeat any of them. Especially the comment he made about me going to the doctor with my sore shoulder.

Back To The Future 2 was on a few weekends ago and I remembered how much I loved it as a youngster. I remembered asking my dad what "to be continued..." meant and when he told me it meant there would be another film I couldn't contain my excitement. I don't how many years there was between the first and second but to me it felt like a decade. In fact, here's a wee clip from it that makes me giggle.

What, Exactly, Is Moral Turpitude?

Well, since I last blogged I have spoiled my sister's birthday present from her beloved boyfriend, I've been dropped on my head whilst participating in a bit of 'Eccky Fun' (not as fun as it sounds) and have been working two jobs. I have to be just about the luckiest chick in town.

The dropping on my head incident left me with a bad shoulder. I think my head sunk right into my neck and that's never a good thing. I was drunk at the time. That's twice now I think I've avoided paralyzing myself with the aid of alcohol. The other time was when I fell from the basketball hoop. Alcohol relaxes your muscles so your more bouncy i guess.

Anyway, what else, what else? Nothing really. I'm getting prepared for my travels by learning Spanish and my copy of the Rough Guide to S. America: On a Budget arrived today. Also, the weather has been pure peeesh and I am dreaming of sunny beaches. I went into work the day after mum had me panicked about biometric passports and realised that I can get them there! I thought they were some kind of micro chipped passport with a barcode and you'd have to have your whole body scanned going through customs. But no, a biometric passport is just a normal passport but with strict photo requirements. I did do a bit of research though and learnt that I'd have to apply online for what they call an ESTA (Electronic System for Traveling Authorisation. Check the application out for a laugh! It's the questionnaire that tickles me.

Back Online!!

I spent a very harrowing couple of weeks there with no internet access for my laptop. I was able to check my mail on Mum's PC but it's not the same as having your own wee computer. I took it for granted. I never realised how much I use the web as an expression of my identity. And as a means of escape.

I briefly got back into old-fashioned writing and I even toyed with the idea of doing a painting. I was put off this notion though when I failed to create a masterpiece with pastels. I tuned my guitar. In the wrong key. So no singing was done as I find it hard enough singing in the right key, let alone the wrong key. It was only a few weeks back that I blamed the internet for my lack of creativity but seems it just ain't in me at the minute, regardless of external factors.

Really, I could have used my internet-free couple of weeks more constructively but I just wasn't in the mood to do anything. Everyday it seemed like there was something to look up or something to blog about. Typically, I've forgotten all of it but I do know that I need to research biometric passports as mum's put the notion in my head that they won't let me into New York without one.

And here is a link to me da's flickr which, no doubt, will be plastered in photos of Z's babby in a few months time. At the minute you can see a piture of the delicious hot waffles and ice cream we had at the waffle House in Norwich. Hmmm.

The Boy On The Shoestring Hammock

I woke up under a dark sky. Two cherry trees were illuminated by the light of a star. A shoestring was tied from one tree to the other. There was a boy lying on the shoestring hammock. He smiled and the star shone brighter.

"Come, come lie with me" He said.

"But you're lying on a shoestring, there's no room for me"

He held out his hand to me, "Come".

The scent of cherries filled my nose. I felt a warm sensation like silk against my cheek and honey down my throat. He wrapped me in his arms and we spun round and round and round. We laughed like two kids at the playground. The ride stopped and we melted into the calm. The trees hummed a sweet song, lulling us to sleep. When we woke I asked where we were.

"We're here" said the boy.

"But where is 'here'?"

"'Here' is where we are" he said, "And 'here' is where we'll always be"

Fusty

I love aweets, I really do. But I should've known better than to go to that shop and buy a 20p mix-up. I'm pretty sure those sweets have been there a long time. They tasted fusty* and they are ridiculously overpriced. A penny sweet costs 2p, a small refresher chew costs 5p (I don't know what it's RRP is but they ain't worth 5p). They sell single malteasers for 4p!!!!! These malteasers obviously fell out of their packaging in 1987. I love malteasers but I wouldn't eat these ones if you paid me let alone charge me 4p for the privelage of suffering from food poisoning.

Still, I ate the mix-up and now I'm waiting for the hallucinations to kick in, like when Lisa was dared by Bart to drink the dirty water at Krusty Land. I hope it's not a bad trip. I have visions of Willy Wonka and his singing oompa loompa's.

Tonight I sort of gave up on driving. I lost the head with it last Thursday and could not be tempted out tonight for love nor money (well, definitely not love, maybe money). Mum used her maternal cunning on me though and before I knew it I was out in the car, for a wee while anyway. Y'see, Bert's a good teacher, patience being his strong point but it was good for me to get a female perspective on it too. While Bert had explained to me to feel the bite when you let off the clutch mum had said listen for the car to let you know it's ready to go. I must find it easier to listen rather than feel because I was starting the car no bother tonight.

Oh aye! I started my new job today. It was busy enough, which was good because I was able to get stuck right in. I hate hovering about in a new job wondering what to do. Obviously it's a nice way to start because I already know some of the people I'm working with so there's plenty to chat about. To be honest, I'm just glad to be working in the land of the living again. Working in that wee shop on my own fried my head more than I realised.

*Fusty (pron. foosty) - old, out of date, rotten, covered in a layer of mould, off.

Shine On Sheena

Yeh, I know, 2 posts in 1 day. Goes to show how frazled I am that i forgot to mention the amaaaazing old lady who is a dear friend of my Granny's. I've always known her, my whole life, but it's only now that I seem to have clicked with her. I must admit, she's easy to click with. But she's also not the kind of lady you want to get on the wrong side of. She's no time for nasties.

I swear to God though, if you feel down, sick, miserable, lonely or in any way negative, spend half an hour with this chick and you will come away feeling soothed. She should be used, by doctors, for medicinal purposes. Her name is Sheena and she is not a punk rocker but just an amazing human being.

The reason I found her so endearing is because she radiates positivity. I find this inspiring as positivity breeds positivity. My granny says when she spends time with Sheena her aches and pains go away. I guess this is because Sheena fills her with good feelings, which relaxes her. Though I suffer no aches and pains after I had spent an hour with Sheena I came away feeling elevated. Also, it warms my heart to know that my Granny, and family, have such a good friend.

Pocky!!!

Imagine working in a non-charity shop where everything costs £3 or less. Coats, jeans, shirts, shoes, skirts, tee's, accessories, everything, £3 or less. Then imagine being the only person working in that shop, with a never-ending queue, people trashing the place, clothes everywhere, children swinging off the empty stands like monkey's and parents too busy buying stuff, like zombies, to care about the safety and well-being of their little monkey's. That was my day.

I tried to go out driving tonight but my brain was too frazzled. Now all I want to do is lie in bed and play click and point games and munch on the Pocky* that lovely Mels sent in the post. Thanks Mels, 'twas a delightful surprise.

*Pocky: A tasty biscuit stick snack originally from Thailand, similar to the Japanese snack Mikado.

A Lucky Escape

Somehow Ian Brown led to this. I never liked the original version of Bad but I love it! This is the song it was meant to be. I also stumbled across this and I have nothing more to say than 'Oh My God Michael, what are you wearing???? ' I don't know why I've suddenly taken an interest in Michael now that he's dead but at least he'll never build Leprechaun Land in Ireland now.

Old Shoes New Job

Happy Birthday Dad and Granny!!! Unfortunately I couldn't see my dad today as I'm in Ballymena and he's in Norfolk but at least his Father's day present was delivered to him today. His birthday present will only be a week late. I did manage to see my dear old grandmama though.

I called into my new employee's today. I start next Tuesday and wanted to enquire about footwear. I know I have to wear black trousers and a black t.shirt with the shop's logo on it so I thought I'd probably have to wear smart black shoes. How happy was I when I looked down at my future co-worker's feet to discover that she was brandishing a lovely pair of bottle green converse! So I have no need of rushing out to buy a crappy pair of black shoes that make me look like a gipe as I can wear my beloved Cons.

But yeah, new job! I was head-hunted (does it count if your head-hunted by your best mate in primary school?). It's not full-time so I'm gonna stay with my current employee's as well. But my new job is at a photo-processing shop (I just scoured the internet thinking there must be a proper name for these shops but, no, they are just called photo-processing shops) and I'm hoping it'll encourage me to take a lot more photos. Also, I'll be working with my oldest best mate who makes me laugh so much and remembers all the parts of our childhood that I forget. And I have the dude that comes in every few months and gets at least 50 nude pics of himself developed to look forward to. I'm hoping I have some good stories to tell.

Escape The Wooden 'Shroom

Despite my best attempts to be a good daughter it seems I just can't quite cut the mustard. Dad's birthday is in a mere 2 days (so's my granny's but we'll not even go into me being a bad grand daughter) and I only just ordered his present off Amazon. In my defense, I've had a lot on my mind. I have developed a rather embarrassing addiction to point and click games or, in other words, brain-rot. It doesn't matter what format it takes; escape, detective, find the object, I just seem to keep on pointing and clicking. The reason being it is one of the few things, other than sleep, which is playing host to a few neurotic dreams lately, that actually stops the little cogs of my mind whirring round and round and round.

I've been noticing how drab my blog's been looking so here's a picture to brighten it up. It's me, rubbing the nipple of a magic 'shroom at Electric Picnic last year.

Same Same But Different

I can't remember if I mentioned before how much the chick (Flo maybe?) from Florence and the Machine looks like Vince Noir from The Mighty Boosh. It's freaky. I guess it's 'cause they're both androgynous looking. He's a girly man and she's a boyish girl. Somewhere along the line they meet in the middle.

Right, i'm away to find my dad some presents but if you like Florence and the Machine here's a good wee song.

My Blood Has Learnt To Flow

Last night I went out. Not an unusual thing really, I do go out most weekends. But I actually had a good night despite being followed around by a woman 2 years older than me who thought she'd taught me how to 'let my blood flow'. I think my blood knew how to flow and has done since before I was born.

It was Pepe Le Peu's 30th birthday and my favourite Ballymena band (not ust because they are the only Ballymena band) were playing. Unfortunately I missed the Time Warp but I danced my heart out to their version of I feel good. I swear Bassey sings it better than James Brown. I realise it's probably an executable offence claiming Bassey sings the Godfather of Soul's song better than he does but I don't even care.

This afternoon I awoke to a brutal overhang and watched Skeleton Crew which was a bit harsh on my delicat stomach but good fun all the same. I should watch more movies though for they're a nice escape from my overactive mind. Next week I'm granny-sitting. I might get a wee bottle of sherry for Pearlie and a bottle of whiskey for me and we'll play drinking games and listen to girly music. I'll download a bit of Beyonce and then we can watch the complete series of Desperate Housewives. I can WAIT!

On The Lane

Isn't having a computer fantastic! But it is y'know. You can downoad music and films, send emails, write blogs, buy ANYTHING, play games, look at photos, absorb useless information and tootle your life away. But a computer is like a home. If you hang about it too long it gets messy and cluttered. And while I should be tidying my room I'd rather clean up my computer.

I was out driving up and down Clint's lane today. I say driving but I'm still struggling with actually starting the car. There's so much to think about. Clutch, gears, handbrake, acceleration. I'm so busy concentrating on all that that I forget about steering the wheel. It's Bert who's taking me out. The first time he said he nearly wore a hole in the floor 'braking'. Tonight he came out with his tobacco pouch. It's hard work though. It comes naturaally to some people but I'm definitely not one of them. Despite that I'm well pleased with myself 'cause I'm doing a lot better than I thought I would. Small steps though. The idea of driving along side other cars still scares the shit out of me.

Some Day I'll Burst

Please somebody hire me! I'll do whatever you want. I'll wash your feet, sell your product, clean everything, keep records, be your personal slave. All I ask for is minimum wage (I'm not greedy) and standard 37.5 hours a week, preferably Monday - Friiday but I don't mind doing odd weekends. Oh, I also ask that I work in an environment that is free from negative vibes of any kind. Tranquility is the way forward.

Thank God for my mum. She calms the head when it gets roary and stops me from chucking everything up in the air. OK, she didn't manage to stop me walking out on the last job but if she'd heard the way that c**t taunted me she would have done a lot worse. I thought I was patient but clearly I'm not. I'm rather depressed that my blog has been marred by all the bullshit that I can't even discuss in detail. It frustrates me more that I have to skirt around the issue when I'd love to divulge the layers of lies, deceit and drama that has created this whirlwind at work. If only for the fact it would relieve poor mum and poor Jakers from the burden of having to listen to it.

I know I probably could discuss it properly. I don't tell anyone in work that I have a blog and it's pretty unlikely that anyone who works there would accidentally stumble upon it (now if they were looking up dogging in Tardree forest it would be a different story). I guess it's more for my own sake. I know I don't do a professional job but I'm (meant to be) an adult and I feel that I should be professional about things anyway. I'm hoping that it's just a phase and I'll crack and spill the beans. That would be much more cathartic.

In the meantime, Mexico....

I'll Try Not To Kill You

Next bad day I have in work I'm just gonna count down the days 'til I board that flight to New York. Yes, I finally booked a flight. I leave on the 16th January to New York then catch a flight on the 20th to Mexico, With the mere press of a button and withdrawal of £361.50 from my bank account my mood has greatly improved.

I think I just needed a bit of direction in my life. Something to work towards and look forward to. And, unlike my trip to Thailand, this trip will be a little better organised. It actually feels like a weight's been lifted off my shoulders. This isn't a dream anymore it's reality. And it was probably always as easy as this but I just didn't realise it.

Hopefully my blog will be a lot brighter and interesting in about 6 months time. One thing I know is I won't be going anywhere without my SLR. I missed it so much in Thailand it just ain't worth the agony. I may post the film home to save lugging it about though.

I never regret a single day in Thailand (except the basketball hoop night) but it was hard work arriving and being thrown into teaching so soon. The one thing I really look forward to on my next trip is relaxing and doing whatever I want for a couple of weeks. Of course, knowing me I'll be working within a week as God seems to think I don't like being unemployed.

There are also whispers in the air that I will start driving lessons soon. You can expect posts upon posts of driving disasters. Going to another country to work and live and possibly catch swine flu is nowhere near as scary as the prospect of being inside a huge hunk of metal with wheels and pedals and sticks and gadgets and being expected to actually control it. I find it hard enough steering a shopping trolley so a car should be fun.

Surfin' AJT

As I mentioned before, I've been feeling a bit down (translates as: absoulutelty totally miserable). There is one main reason for this. Work. I don't know how many times I've been told by so many different people that I shouldn't let it get to me. I've agreed with them and tried not to care so much but I've come to realise this is impossible for me. It's just part of who I am. I do care and I do take my job seriously. Which is why I should really be trying my hardest to find a job that requires me to care.

Things got so bad on Monday that I started thinking that I should use my savings to enrol myself on a Social Work course instead of going travelling. I'd get myself a pet rat and work and study until finally I'd be in a postion where I didn't have to settle for minimum wage menial bullshit. But it's my dream to travel and I'd never be happy settling in a career unless I'd experienced the exotic. The pet rat and social work degree will have to wait.

Thankfully, the girls I work with have given me a bit of strength to carry on. I broke down in tears on Monday. They have all agreed it's been a long time coming. Even just that consoles me. I don't mind showing my emotions as long as people understand why I'm feeling them. They have fully backed me up and said they're surprised I lasted this long. They have told this to a key member of the company and they have also told her about their own discontentment. Things are unravelling slowly but I'm clinging onto my sanity for a wee while yet. If I can just ride this job out 'til I go travelling I'll be able to diclose all the gory details but for now I'll keep clinging to my board.

HB's Out Of Lead

Blogger was toying with me there. Being a bit of a dick if you ask me. I was momentarily worried that I wouldn't be able to share the delights of Biorythm charts. I do so love a bit of hippy dippy tosh. But it's true. All of it. Of course it is!

Anyway, these people (I don't know who these people are; hippies, witches, goths?) have decided that everyone has their own personal biorythm chart, which is calculated from your birthdate. This determines when we experience highs and lows in your physical, emotional and intellectual energy.

So this is why I'm feeling so depressed, lethargic and tearful. According to my biorythm chart I'm low in all forms of energy. Basically, right now, I'm lazy, tired, irrational, sad and stupid. That's pretty much accurate. I'll only believe it's true though if in ten days time, like the chart suggests, I'll be on top of the world. And even if I am I'll put it down to the power of suggestion.

Very Woody!

I met a girl on the bus travelling on her own. She said she was gonna cycle from Tibet to Nepal. Crazy, cool chick. She was sweet. Young in age but she had old laughter lines around her eyes. She wants to be gardener, I want to be a carpenter. I think we come from the same place. Heaven maybe. Or hell. Or some crazy jungle on a crazy island in the middle of the ocean where mermaids marry pirates and show them how to find the treasure at the bottom of the sea.

I want to live in a wooden house. A house in a tree made out of trees. I'll sleep in a wooden bed with wooden sheets. I'll brush my hair with a wooden brush and clean my face with the sap from the leaves. I'll watch the wooden TV showing the same Squirrel Show every day. Everything will be bark and smell like the earth.

I wrote this on my travels in Thailand after meeting a lass from Oz who inspired me. She was so disciplined and head strong but she was always late for class due to the fact that she always fell asleep on the train to school and missed her stop. Anyway, my obsession for wood at the time (and still now really) doesn't seem quite so innocent after seeing this Monthy Python sketch. Apparently their funniest sketch ever. My favourite will always be the Lupin sketch where Dennis Moore steals lupins from the rich and gives them to the poor.

Average Friday Afternoon

Life at the Dreen is never dull. Mum's car broke down so Bert had to pick her up from work. They picked me up too. Although it was a short journey it was filled with banter, slagging and laughing. Mostly at Bert. First his early morning driving skills were scrutinised. Then we chortled as Bert's gaze following the strawberry-blond farmer boy driving by on his open top tractor with a cigarette hanging from his mouth James Dean stylee. I asked Bert did he fancy him.

Upon arrival home we were greeted by two gorgeous dog beasts full of joy and happiness at seeing not one, not two but three of their Masters home at the same time (this is a rare occurrence). Then as we sat down for a smoke and coffee, Young Loveheart arrived with two tubs full of locusts. Bert and him were conducting experiments which, inevitably, led to locusts escaping. Very random. But I don't have time to reflect on the randomness and lovliness of life in general because it's the Day of Fri and it's been a heluvva week in work and I have several dates with several people, the most important, of course, being Mr. Jameson.

10th June

Woah! What a day! Not only is it the anniversary of the death of an old boyfriend but it's all kicking off in work. Mum says she can't wait to pick me up each day so she can hear the next installation of the soap opera that is my job. Damn, I really wish I could blog all about it but I can't. For so many reasons. All I can say is that big changes are happening be they for better or worse. Although it's stressful I know I don't have anything to worry about. So I won't.

Anyway, I have more important things to think about today. On the 10th June eight years ago an amazing guy I'd just split up with died in a house fire. You probably wonder why I'd split up with him if he was so amazing but even then, when I was 19, I knew that just because you loved someone didn't mean you were meant to be together. When Will died we'd been split up for a few months. We'd done the splitting-up, falling out, making peace and the wishing each other well for the future. He was happy when he died. He'd got back together with an old flame and he was making plans for the summer. Despite this I still took his death really badly. The guilt, regrets, what-ifs were overwhelming. Every dramatic event in your life plays a part in shaping you as a person. It's only looking back now that I can see the different effects it's had on me. But I'm not writing this seeking sympathy. Eight years is a long time for the heart to heal and, if truth be told, I didn't let myself grieve for that long because I didn't feel I had a right to. When it came down to it I was just lucky to have known him and loved him.

I know this is pretty personal stuff to write about but I've been doing a lot of self-reflecting lately just to try to understand myself better. I'm wary about discussing my emotions but so often I find myself writing blogs that get deleted or I go and do something and by the time I've come back I've lost the nerve to post it. The thing is, I love writing. I don't want to make a career out of it but it's something I do want to be good at and I'm not going to progress with it if I hold back too much.

See, now I just feel like a dick.

Big Mac With Fries

I found out, today in work, something that made me, once again, realise that people's faults do not make them 'bad' people. I guess when you admit those faults it shows a willingness to learn and adapt, which is good thing. I'm hoping that the result of this outcome will make work more bearable but even if it doesn't it will only encourage me so save quicker so I can travel sooner. Seems like a win-win siyuation if you ask me.

I can't express enough how much the bright weather is cheering me up. Weather like this always reminds me of the good times because the good times always happen when the sun is shining. It's Doug's Dog Day Party coming up and it makes me think back to last year, hanging out on Sunday morning with 3 grumpy Norweigan's. I got the impression they were disappointed with their stay in Norn Iron because it pished with rain but I also got the impression that they didn't show much enthusiasm for anything. At Doug's party they drank Vodka and Jameson's and sung stoically. As we sat in Wetherspoon's the next day (not long before we got chucked out for being too boisterous on a Sunday afternoon) I asked the Norweigan's about where they came from. They told me they lived in the middle of nowhere and if they wanted McDonald's they had to drive to cities 100's of miles away. They were leaving that day and I walked them down to Eckstar's flat to get their bags. McDonald's is down that way too so obviously the Norweigan's were keen to get some food. I asked one guy what he was gonna order and he said:

'A big mac with fries'

I asked his mate what he'd get. He smiled and said:

'A big mac with fries'

I laughed and said to the third guy:

'Let me guess, you're getting a big mac with fries?'

He smiled and nodded his head.

Hmmm, I totally contradicted myself there because I said how the good weather made me think of good memories 'cause all the good times happen in the sun. Then I go and recount a memory when it was raining. I remember it well because it's when I became a member of the Drizzle Appreciation Society.

Wonderful Warmth

Ah...the warmth, the glorious warmth. It's nice to wear different clothes other than hoodies. I can go 'Look see, I do have arms. And yes, they are whiter than you could ever have possibly imagined.' To be fair, the sun has been shining for days and it's only the past 2 days that I've taken my jacket off. I had to stock up on some heat.

Mum, Zoe, granny and I went to granda's memorial mass. It was nice to go 'cos it pleased my granny, which pleases my mum, which pleases me but I'd forgotten how akward mass makes me feel. I can never remember the words to prayers, or when to kneel and stand up and bless myself. In a small country chapel this fails to go unnoticed. Aw well, it bothered me slightly at the time but I'm not letting it bother me beyond that. I can't help my heatheness.

Granny was reminding mum about how she arrived at the hospital to give birth to me. She wasn't in labour so her and granny decided to get the town service bus. They asked the bus driver if it went to the hospital and he said that it didn't but if they just could just wait a minute he'd take them there. So out of the goodess of his heart (and possibly thinking that mum was about to pop me out there and then), he drove mum and granny right up to the hospital doors in a bus! Even if most bus drivers were kind enough to do that they'd probably just drop you off at the nearest bus stop.

I'm coping better with work this week. I swear it's because I had two whole days off rather than just the one. Oh, and I didn't get horrendously drunk this weekend. I came home earlyish on Saturday night. I woke up feeling refreshed on Sunday morning so I brushed Paddy's winter coat off him. He looked so handsome mum and I decided to take him a walk along the beach to show him off. We took Bonnie dog too incase she felt left out. We bumped into Dee Mac and her dog Handsome Herman. Big Herman showed both Paddy and Bonnie what real dogs are meant to do on the beach, i.e. go swimming. Bonnie half got the idea but Paddy obviously didn't want to ruin his newly brushed coat.

A Change Would Do You Good

Anyone up for an adventure? Flights from Belfast to New York are this cheap in October. This would give me a week to explore before catching a flight down to Mexico, just in time for the Mexican Day of the Dead celebrations. Even though Kerm wouldn't be there covered in a mixture of his own, and other people's, blood I'm sure it would be a better party than the one we had last year.

From here to S.America for less than £400 squiddly diddly dangoes (expdia aren't like easyjet and they show you the actual price the flight costs with tax and everything included). Of course, I could just fly straight to Mexico for the same price but it's the difference between 2 8 hour plane rides with a week in between and 1 17 hour plane ride that connects in New York anyway. I'd love to just book the flights right now but I can't guarantee that I'll have enough money saved by then. It's only really 4 months away. I've checked prices for Jaunary though and there pretty much the same.

I just wrote a whole big blog speel about work that I deleted immediately. I didn't want to go back after my first break today but I don't want to rant about it. I'm kinda trying to convince myself that it's not actually that bad and that I just need to change my attitude towards it. But it is that bad. I hate my manager so much that it's making me hate the rest of my life. I feel like I'm running out of time too. I need to hurry up and get a proper career otherwise I'll be doing this job for the REST of my life. I guess I should try harder on working on changing my attitude. And saving my money.

Soul Food

Yum! Here is a selection of culinary delights crafted by my domestic goddess sister. We have homemade oatcakes with melted cheese and bacon. Unless you're from Stoke or round those parts you won't know how good these things are. I hated them for a long time but once I started eating them they formed part of my staple diet for years. There are also some lovely Fifteens big sis and I made. Defintely one of my all time favourite traybakes. Then there are two of Zoe's finest cupcakes in the world: one is the Chocolate Guinness Cupcake and the other Zoe simply calls 'an old fashioned chocolate cupcake with coconut buttercream' but I think should be called Hannah's Little Bit of Heaven in a Cupcake. Zoe made them for my leaving for Thailand do and I dreamt about them on so many hot, balmy nights so she made some for my return home.

Speaking of Thailand it's been a long time since I made a Thai curry and I'm starting to think that maybe if I did the sun would put his hat on...and keep it on. Really though, and Swisser will back this up, good food can give you a buzz (sometimes Swisser's near orgasming when she eats Nelly's home-baked delights!). I conclude: Lack of food that has been home-cooked lovingly is bad for the soul. Nelly baked a banana and walnut loaf at the weekend. I'm nearly sure it's the first thing she's baked since March when she hosted an awesome teaparty for The Lovely Mel and Ganching.

Small Teasers

After a weekend of working, Pearlie-sitting, dog-sitting, cat-sitting, hen-sitting, fish-sitting and boyfriend-sitting I'm not quite so sure that I stand by my drunken proclamation that, as soon as I get back from South America, I'm having babies, whether there's a father or not! Obviously I would need a father for the initial impregnation but so intent on having babies 'twas I, in my drunkeness, that I felt the whole "waiting for the right man" was completely irrelevant to family-making.

So...ya. That was my biological clock ticking very loudly, very brazenly and very drunkenly. But, like I say, after this weekend I'm not so sure I'm ready for parenthood any time soon. Being mum, Bert and me rolled into one was tough enough. Most importantly though, I missed getting out and seeing people. That's what makes the weekend for me. If I was a mum I'd have to say goodbye to my social life and I don't want to do that anytime soon.

I'm wearing my new glasses. They are good because I can see things better but they are bad because they cost me stupid money and they make malteasers look smaller. They don't make other things look smaller though so maybe I'm just wishing the malteasers were bigger. One day I will bathe in malteasers. Having said that, it would be a real waste.

Shoulda Gone To Specsavers

So, Vision Express sent me a nice letter the other day, offering me a free eye exam and a £50 voucher. I have needed to wear glasses since I was 14 but at some point over the years my head must've shrunk and those glasses kept falling off my face. Also, they were Graham Coxon/Jack Duckworth NHS stylee glasses and they just didn't suit me. So I didn't wear them.

I'd been meaning to get new glasses for a while and this voucher sent by Vision Express was the push I needed. Had to be used by 25th June so off I rushed to the nearest VE. Eye exams are strange experiences anyway. I'm nearly sure they make you blinder and also the lights and air they puff into your eye makes you somewhat disorientated. After the test the lovely assistant helped me pick my frames. They were £90 but with my voucher they were £40. I had forgot though that they would charge me for the actual lenses that go into the frames and I parted with £144 of my hard-earned squiddly diddly dangoes! My own fault for being naive but also a cunning ploy on Vision xpress's part to lure me into thinking I was getting a bargain.

Shoulda gone to Specsavers.

Hails also informed me that she used to work in Pet Smart. The story behind that is; I once found a bat lying on the street in broad daylight. Convinced that this wee bat must've broken a wing I scopped it up and took it down to Pet Smart. I asked if they could help fix it's wing. The lady looked at me like I had 2 heads and pointed out that they were a pet shop, not a vetinary. She told me I'd need to contact the RSPB and it was just as she was fetching me a box for the bat that it crawled up my arm and flew off into the rafters. The lady wss most cross and said:

Great, now we have to get the RSPB out.

I scarpered pretty quick and it was only in hindsight that I realised a bat on the loose in a shop that sold mice was not a particularly good idea. I was also wrong about it having a broken wing as it could clearly fly the very best.

As Blind As A Bat

As blog material is rather thin on the ground at the minute I'm happy that Tuesday Kid has tagged me to disclose 8 pointless things about myself. It means I can keep my rant about how Vision Express rinsed me with their cunning promotional offers for another day.

8 pointless things:

1. I never time food when I'm cooking. I just hope for the best. If I ever invite you to a dinner party you should politely decline.

2. I will always want to be a carpenter.

3. I think too much about really, really silly things.

4. Instead of revising for 'A' Levels I learnt how to juggle. I'm now in a dead-end job but I'm fully qualified to join the circus at any time.

5. I am a member of the Drizzle Aprecciation Society. It's quite elite.

6. When I was 10 and we moved to the countryside I was excited about all the wildlife I'd get to see. The only badgers I've ever seen have been lying on the side of the road, dead, and the only fox I've ever seen in the country was the one that massacred all our hens last week.

7. I believe that time is a concept that should be totally ignored. It's far too restrictive.

8. I'm one of those dumb, naive people who thinks they're getting s good deal but they're getting ripped off. Yup, that's me (F**k you Vision Express, even though your staff were lovely. I musta been blind not to see youse bastards coming.)

There ye go. I don't see why the list had to stop at 8 'cause, personally, I could've gone on forever there (I once got a bat caught in my hair, I once let a bat loose in Pet Smart) I tag the Lovely Mel because even though I know her pretty well but I'm sure she can still surprise me.

1752 That's My No.

Yesterday I was full of the joys of spring. Today I am hibernating in my room, staring out the window at the vicious wind that blows and howls. I've just got off the phone with Mel. Our conversation went from travelling to the lottery to lucky no's (I've decided mine's gonna be 1752. It's a bit long winded but it feels lucky) to me having an inferiority complex because when anyone at work writes my name they never give me a capital 'H'. Why am I not worthy of a capital letter?

When Dirt Bird said goodbye to me on Monday she texted me a while later saying she'd just seen a Bad Toad. I remember, when I lived in Stoke, if you came home for a visit it didn't feel like you'd been home unless you'd seen a Bad Toad. Now that I live here again I see them on a regular basis. I don't need to go Bad Toad hunting because B & M Bargains has just opened up and the Bad Toads, like everyone else in Ballymena, love a good bargain.

James Brown Knows The Score But So Does Hughie Green

There was a plus side to having Swine Flu. Now that I've fully recovered I feel amaaaazing!! Maybe it's the help of the sun and Seasick Steve with his funky blues but I really do feel on top of the world. After last week's annoyances at work I had a good day. I feel like I'm actually getting the help from my manager's that I should have been getting month's ago but was too proud to ask.

Oh, and karma worked it's way round to me. Not the weekend just gone but the weekend before I found £5 on the ground and the Saturday night I found £10 on the ground. When it's on the ground it's fair do's in my eyes. As long as it's not in a purse or wallet.

So there's a spring in my step again and I feel much more like my usual self. I'm like a cross between Vince Noir and Howard Moon from the Mighty Boosh. Vince for his sunny Barocca-aided approach to life and Howard for his love of Jazz Funk. This is a pretty recent thing for me but I've com to the conclusion that Funk would make the world go round. You can't help but be happy and dance when you hear it. I can hear James Brown now singing in my brain...I feel good.

One Blog Meet, One Wedding And A Night At O'Rawes

Well, I haven't had a minute. Not a minute. And I loved it. Thursday night Nelly and I went to meet some fellow bloggers. The occasion was Hails' brief return to the Emerald Isle to catch up with folk (but really, to remind herself why she is no longer living here). Grannymar was the only one I hadn't previously met and she was charming like all the others.

There's something about getting a certain mix of people who've all met through pretty random circumstances. You talk about things you wouldn't normally talk about. Learn things you wouldn't necessarily learn.

Friday was quiet in work up until the last hour and a half when it got so busy that my head was frazzled. I wanted to catch the bus home but missed it because people kept coming into the shop even though the shutters were half way down. I had to get a taxi home and the driver took it upon himself to give me a a 15 minute intensive cow and bull lesson. Apparently cows are pregnant for the same length of time as humans. But a farmer has to watch his bulls don't try and mate with their daughters. I'm not quite sure why he thought this was interesting converstaion for a young girl heading out on a Friday night but that's farmer types for you.

On Friday night I went to my usual haunt. I enjoyed my last proper night out with Dirt Bird before she heads back to the Wall of Sall. I love talking to her because she's the only one that shares my sense of humour exactly. She used to be a wino but she's a whisko like me now.

On Saturday I had another busy day in work and then met Dirt Bird after for drinks and something to eat. I had a wedding to go at 8 so Dirt Bird was providing some moral support as I had to dress up and meet family and share a taxi there with strangers. As it turned out it was a good night and everyone I met was friendly and welcomiing.

The best thing about going to weddings is that it reminds me how much I don't like them. I'm always happy for the bride and groom but I can't help but feel embarassed for them when they have to do the 'First Dance' and all the cheesy stuff. Anyway, the wedding blog rant's a post for another day. I'm yearning for a game of word challenge. I've given up on beating Ed ever but I'm still hopelessly addicted.

Worn, Like The Clothes In My Shop

I like to think of myself as a patient person, although I'm pretty sure it's not a natural character trait for me. I think it was something that I had to learn. I heard a rumour it was a virtue. So, therefore, my family members would probably beg to differ about my claiming to be patient but they have known me longer as a child/brat/moody teenager than as an adult.

But friends and work collegaues do see me as being patient and I pride myself on this somewhat. There are few people who have the patience of a saint and eventually everyone gets worn down at certain points and by certain things. This seems to be one of the side-effects of the Swine Flu. Well, that and a combination of working where I work. I hate to blog rant and I hate talking about my job in detail but today I reached beyond the end of my tether and handed the keys to my boss and informed him I was going home. I wasn't quitting but I was letting it be known that I could physically take no more.

Fortunately my current boss is not as cantankerous as my old boss who pushed me to the limit but was too proud to try to keep me. He took the keys, took me out for a smoke, listened to me and dealt with the situation as best he could. He gave me back the keys and enough positivity to finish the day. I wish I could explain more but even though it's only a job I really do get on with the people I work with and I'd feel like I was betraying them by discussing work issues. And besides, I'd need to write a book not just a blog post.

Free House In Cloughmills

I had the worst night's sleep last night. So bad that during it I had a dream where I was telling people about my bad night's sleep. I have Swine flu. There could be a number of reasons for this. I did eat a Pear Picking Porky ice lolly yesterday, which definitely made me feel worse. But the Swine lurgi had started a good week and a half before that. Also my over-exposure to Corona lager hasn't been helping it. I haven't been drinking it myself but everyone else has. It kept putting that song in my head My Sharona.

I would love to write about the ins and outs of my Friday night but I cant go into too much detail other than to say that after the pub we went to someone's house. Half Term Kerm ended up taking a bath at 3 in the morning and cooking a feed of tobasco eggs at 5 in the morning.

I wrote the 1st part of this blog yesterday but didn't have the energy to finish it off. The swine flu is slightly better. The night sweats weren't as bad last night but I did have a surreal dream where Mum, my boyfriend and I went to view a house in Cloughmills. 3 small children answered the door and I wondered where all the adults were. We went into the living room and the eldest girl started to tell us why they wanted to sell the house. When I looked over at the other 2 children they'd turned into cats. Eventually the other girl turned into a cat and it was the most evil, nasty cat I've ever encountered. Mum seemed unperturbed by the stangeness of this and went to find some adults. When she was out of the room the eldest girl-cat turned into Evil Cat From Hell. Mum came back announcing that they were giving the house away for free because everyone else in the street were moving at 1 O'Clock and we were the only ones who'd come to see the house!

I'm hoping that I shuld be a 100% by Thursday though as Nelly and I are meeting up with some fellow bloggers and I'd hate to give them the Swine flu. Hails suggested I wear a mask. I was thinking about choosing this one although it reminds me of Cartoon Head from Ideal.

Chocolate Digstives Never Tasted So Good.

What a lovely week off I've been having. The only bad thing is that it seems to be going too quick. Dirt Bird got here late on Monday night. On Tuesday it was her sisiter's birthday so we picked her up and took her for lunch at the Thatch Inn in Broughshane. We then tok a lovely walk along the river and basked in the sun. In the evening Dirt Bird and I met Nelly at Lidl to do a bit of shopping. While we were waiting for Nelly I saw a lady struggling with her groceries. She couldn't get the box in her car so I offered to help her. When her trolley made a run for it Dirt Bird was on hand to rescue it. The lady was very thankful for the help.

Then when Dirt Bird was looking for a pound to put into a trolley a different lady approached with a trolley. I said to Dirt Bird that she should give the woman her pound and take her trolley to save her putting it back. The old lady gave us the trolley and took the pound. She scarpered pretty quickly. When we were finished with the trolley I noticed it didn't have a pound in it. How raging was I that this lady, elderly lady, had stroked us of a pound.

It was Dr. Death who managed to help me see the funny side of it by saying that the old lady would be dipping her chocolate digestives into her tea that night, giggling about how she'd stroked them 2 dolls at Lidl good and proper.

The Holiday Dance

Well, birthday celebrations on Saturday night were very good. The party was pretty much like any party we have here; The Wee Manny (aka Sir Drink Alot) was in bed by 8, guests stood while the dogs lay on the seats, Nelly's CD's got abused, people boked in the toilet, food was scranned, drinks were spilled, geetar playing was attempted and people were saying good morning to people who were saying good night. All in all a typical shindig at chez Nellybert's. I didn't feel normal again until Tuesday.

I've got another party to attend this weekend. A Mad Hatter's party. I was gonna wear Bert's leather hat but it's gone missing since Saturday night so I might have to settle for a top hat. I'm pretty sure it'll be another all-nighter but I'm OFF on HOLIDAY for 1 WHOLE week!! If you could see me now, I'm waving my hand in the air like the audeince used to do on the Gladiators and whooping like a loon in the night. I haven't had a full week off work since I started in November, in fact, I've hardly had a full weekend off since I started. How bliss it will be. Obviously it will rain all week because this week's been glorious and everyone knows that if it doesn't rain for a week in Ireland the whole island will be swallowed up by the sea. The rain keeps it floating or something. I don't even care if it rains I will just be so happy to not be working. Also, the bestest, prettiest, sweetest DirtBird will be here and we have adventures to pursue...and Bert's hat to find.

Special Agent 0027

Today was my Dog Day. I turned 27. This is the age that many rockstars die; Kurt Cobain, Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison to name a few. I went to work, went for a drink, came home, ate dinner, watched Coronation Street, hung out with Pearlie and we talked about whether or not my cold sore had healed yet. Very rock 'n' roll. But even if I don't die before my 28th birthday I still want to go to Hell. For one, it's warm there, and two, I heard there was a shortage of chairs in Heaven. Is it any wonder? All you have to do is repent and they let you in.

I know this sounds like just the sort of thing an old person would say but isn't it amazing how quickly the years just roll by? This is where I don't trust time, years fly by but at work the seconds drag forever. There's no point worrying about getting old though. I can see many advantages of aging; wisdom, OAP discount, the right to be grumpy, afternoon naps.

I've been thinking lately that I'd probably make a good spy. I'm very discreet and cunning. If anyone needs a spy just leave me a comment and tell me my mission. I'll take payment in kind, not that kind of kind, but I'd take payment in sweets, whiskey or tobacco.

Wrong Change

On Friday I accidentally didn't give a lady in my shop her £20 back. It was an honest mistake. I took her 20 and asked if she had anything smaller. She said she hadn't then found a tenner. Sh gave me that, I gave her her change but for got to give her the other 2o back. I only realised after she'd left and even then I couldn't be sure. I told my boss and when he checked the till it was £20 over. Whoops! We put it in an envelope in the safe and I hoped the lady would come back. I felt really bad about it.

I told mum this on the way home from work. We called in at the garage where I was chatting away to Young Haze about the new light Golden Virginia and when he gave me change of a £20 back I told him that I'd only given him a tenner. So there was 2 chances I had in one day to have money that wasn't mine. But I honestly blieve that getting money like that wouldn't bring any happiness. I was feeling lucky though so I did put a bet on the Grand National. I lost! But then so did a lot of people.

Today I was buying coffee. Again I was given the change of a twenty when I'd only paid with a tenner. I told the lady that was twice in one week that had happened to me. It's funny how during a time of economic recession people are so careless about money. I wonder who the God of Wealth is and why he can't place money in front of me in the form of a new, better paid job.

Anyway, here's how Karma works. I didn't take money that wasn't mine because that's not the way I want to have money. I know many people wouldn't care. Money is money. On Saturday my mate from work got me to climb through the window of her cousin's flat to let her in. She needed the toilet and he wasn't in. Of course I was slightly inebriated which is why I thought nothing of climbing in through the window of someone's flat when they weren't there. All was well until a few hours later I got s call from my mate telling me that I'd left my bankcard at her cousin's house. Only I would be stupid enough to break into someone's house and leave them stuff rather than take anything. I got my card back though. Perhaps if I had taken the change that wasn't mine I wouldn't have got it back. Who knows but I like to think that what goes around comes around and if you try to do positive it will come back to you.

Pin Head

I don't mind admitting that I'm behind the times with music. This is why I'm only just now figuring out who Paolo Nutini is. I knew his songs from the radio, and liked them, but I thought it was a chick singing, possibly Macy Gray or someone. I was quite surpised to find out he's a pretty boy from Scotland. He may be a pretty boy but he doesn't play any instruments and he's got a weird singing face. I think he feels the emotion of his lyrics a little too much. I understand the poor lad's singing about his broken heart but it just looks like he's doing a really painful pooh. I do like him though.

It seems I am once again below average. The circumference of my head measures 21 inches and the average for a woman is 22 1/2 inches. I figure this is why I always look ridiculous in sunglasses. And why I can stick my head through bars without having to call the fire brigade.

Diggin' Up Worms

I forget what a healer music can be. I've been feeling a bit flat lately. The weather plays a big part. The Wind is nothing but a big, overbearing bully. I was gonna nominate it for eviction but then I rememebered this ain't Big Brother. Ballymena is in a slump too. There's no life about it. Where's all the clowns to make me laugh?

But back to music being a healer. What else is there to do on a Monday afternoon other than stick the tunes on full blast and have a bouncy disco to yourself. It's the simple things in life that make me happy, like dancing and sweets, clouring in, climbing trees and chasing after stray cats. It's when the stray cats chase after you that it all turns a bit sour.

I'm on the job hunt again. A manager who thinks it's viable to have an employee working 11 days in a row is a manager who is not only stupid but also a fool. A stupid fool. Just lately I've had an urge to climb Slemish. I know it's time for a change when I want to head for the hills.

I shall leave you with a link to MGMT-Time To Pretend. This song has the best intro ever. Also the video is awesome. Makes me think of going on a cruise to the windmills with Mels in her knightrider car. Adventures + Mels = Good Times!!

Lost In Lopburi

To follow on from a couple of weeks ago, about my last month spent in Thailand, here’s a letter I wrote to mum but never sent (even just posting a letter involved going to the post office where no one would be able to speak English):

Dear Mum,

I don’t want to worry you but I just wanted to let you know how I’m feeling. To be honest, I’m feeling scared. I’ve come back to Lopburi but not back to what I’d left behind. I miss my apartment and I miss the security of working. I know that in time these things will fall into place but right now I feel unsettled and worried. It’s bad enough not having a job at home but in a different country it’s even worse.

I know there’s no point wishing I hadn’t come back because it’s done now and I have to deal with it.

I never wanted to leave here so soon but I think I’d totally psyched myself up for coming home that I can’t help but feel a little disappointed. A part of me wishes I wasn’t so far away.

I guess I’m just feeling mixed up by everything. My ‘last’ week in Lopburi was extremely stressful and frustrating. Romy and I both felt lost, betrayed and helpless. We were scared and felt like there was no one here to help us. We ran away without saying goodbye to our friends, our students, without any acknowledgement of what we’d done, without any appreciation from school. It wasn’t the way we’d wanted to leave.

So when I found out that I didn’t have to go it just seemed right that I should stay, go back to Lopburi and face the situation…


And face the situation I did. I got myself work with another school and I went back to my old one to try and get the rest of my wages. The Head of Department could do nothing for me (it was out of her hands) but she seemed sympathetic in her own way. Another teacher, the kindest, gentlest being I’ve ever met, gave me a 1000 baht out of her own pocket. A thousand baht in our money is just under £20 but in Thailand it goes a lot further. She took me aside and I tried to refuse but she insisted. She gave me a hug and I knew, of all the other teachers, she was the only one that really cared. My new employers were also very understanding and supportive of my situation. Before I left they told me to get in touch if I wanted to go back teaching and they reassured me that all the paperwork would be legit.

This is life though. It doesn’t matter how far from home you are there are always people who will help you. Most people are good, kind people. I know many of them but not all of them. Not yet anyway.

Getting In The Mood For Waffle Day

In a mere TWO days it will be International Waffle Day. Yes, such a day exists! And why not? One day I'll own my very own waffle house. Here's what I'd have on my menu:

Apple and Cinnamon Waffle - Cinnamon flavoured waffle drizzled with hot apple sauce and a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

Traditional Waffle - Waffle with maple syrup and vanilla ice cream.

Banoffee Waffle - Waffle topped with sliced banana, hot toffee sauce and a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

Plain Waffle - Hot waffle with any two scoops of ice cream (vanilla, chocolate, honeycomb, caramel or strawberry)

Coconut Waffle - Coconut flavoured waffle with coconut ice cream, drizzled with hot choclate sauce.

Chocolate Fudge Waffle - Chocolate flavoured waffle with scoop of vanilla ice cream and hot fudge sauce.

Malt Waffle - Malted waffle with scoop of malteasers ice cream and sprinkled with chocolate flakes.


I think, of all my buisness plans (Hannah's Hot Air Balloon Rides, Scabby Birds Escort Agency), the waffle house is definitely the most promising.

Nigelly's Buns

Mels was over at the weekend. I was useless and didn’t get a treasure hunt organised for her but we did go on a wee excursion. It was Friday 13th and Mel, being obsessed with scary stuff, ghosts and such like, wanted to do something scary. I asked everyone I knew and the only option anyone came up with was camping at Tardree forest. I don’t know what would be scarier, the Blair Witch or the perverts out dogging. Anyway, we ended up going to Skerry Graveyard, which is actually quite scary, although perhaps I only have these associations because of the time Mel and I tried to drive down the Mouth of Hell.

Do you know how quickly Nelly can whip up a batch of fairy cakes? Very. When I arrived home yesterday mum presented me with a batch of delicious looking chocolate buns. Instead of a smile she got a stroppy glare and me mumbling about having given up chocolate for lent. So chocolate free buns were made and Mel and I expertly decorated them. They looked like those buns Jamie Oliver and the wean’s decorated for Comic Relief.