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.