Fun Things To Do On A Saturday

Sometimes my life can be tedious. I have compiled a list of fun things to do on a Saturday*

1. Light a fire. Watch it. Burn various different things to see how they blaze. Good things include egg cartins especially if they have an empty shell in them as they produce good sound effects too.


2. Go visit an elderly next door neighbour and tell her all about the exciting night out you had at the chinese restaurant with the girls from work - pure lefal sham!*1


3. Make endless cups of coffee and smoke endless fags and repititively worry about how many cups of coffee you drink and how many fags you smoke - woohoo!*1


4. Compile a list of fun things to do on a Saturday. And then do them all - Great fun!*1

5. Annoy the cat.




* It doesn't have to be a Saturday, it can be any day of the week.

*1 Note the hint of sarcasm.

The Wee Mouse

Retail is very boring work. Shoppers are boring people. Unless you work at Junction 1 that is. It's weird place. It's like a mini town centre in the middle of nowhere and definitley attracts some proper weirdos. Like the woman who didn't want any old five pound note amongst her change. No, one was too old looking, one was too dirty, did they not have an english five pound note? she wanted an english one. Mammy Banjo was telling us a funny story last week about the man who came to install the new keyboard and mouse for the computer in her shop. After the man had been they looked at their new gear and realised that the mouse was actually the old one. So Mammy B's work colleague phoned up their Head Office to say that the new mouse they were supposed to be getting wasn't there. So the next day they had a phone call from the man who angrily shouted down the phone 'I haven't got your fucking mouse OK?' The pair of them were in stitches for it hadn't occurred to them that he would have the mouse. They thought maybe it hadn't been delivered or something. A few days later the man was back futering about with the computer. Mammy B's work colleague thought he was looking a bit sussed and says to him

'What have you got up your sleeve?'


'None of your fucking buisness' Says he.

So she went over and put her hand up his sleeve and pulled out the missing mouse that hadn't been installed. What a laugh they had at the expense of the guy who tried to steal the new mouse and who worried so much about getting caught out that he tried to sneak it back in with out anyone noticing. Only at Junction 1. Swear to God!

Love Is In the Air

I tried to post a Happy Valentine's message for my man yesterday but couldn't get the picture attached so I gave up. It woulda been mushy anyway. But today is our 3 year anniversary which is significantly more important than Valentine's and I still can't get the picture attached.

Me and Jamie don't really do Valentine's day. We think it's commercial bollocks. People in work were asking me if I was getting anything and I said no. When I got home there was a rose waiting for me. According to Nelly, the guy that delivered it wasn't driving an Interflora van and when he asked for me her initial thought was 'Oh God, it's the CID looking for Hannah' I says to her, sure what would the CID want me for and she said she knew that whatever it was they must've got it wrong. Hmmmm.... faith in her daughter oozing from every pore.

There was a wee card with the rose and it was handwritten but not in Jamies writing. I know he does practically everything through the internet so he must have typed the message to go with the rose. Interflora obviously employ someone to handwrite the messages to make it look more loving and personal for the recipient. I think that would be a good job. Writing out people's cheezy love messages.

So Jamie babe, I was only asking if there was a postal strike over there too 'cos I sent you a card. I was trying to keep it a surprise but the goddamn postal workers have more rebellion in them than I do patience. It will come. Eventually.

And finally, Happy Anniversary baby, fucking hell that makes me feel old to say. I love you more than tayto wuster sauce crisps and cream eggs. I love you more than Neighbours and Sublime. I hope you get your card soon cheese face.

Driving Mr. Davies

Yaaaaaay. Congratulations to my boy Jamie who passed his driving test. Well done sweet pea I can't wait 'til you're driving me everywhere. No more stinky buses! Lethal. Tomorrow is Pearlie's 80th birthday and I've bought her a new apron. I had no idea they were so hard to shop for. I went in nearly every old lady's clothes shop there is in Ballymena before I found somewhere that sold them. The reason I bought her an apron though is because Pearlie doesn't care much for presents that are of no use to her, like ornaments or things. When I gave her a christmas present she said "Och it's very nice but all the same I wud rather hae something I could use, like a pair o' stockings or a bottle of shloer or something" I couldn't face buying her stockings so I got her the apron and a bottle of shloer.

Last night was one of those rare nights I had trouble getting to sleep. I had thoughts racing through my mind. Not worries about money or health or anything stressful like that. I was pondering the great mystery of the leap year, like, why do they happen only every 4 years? Why do we even have them? Do other parts of the world have leap years too? I hope it doesn't keep me awake again tonight. Although, today's great mystery is; why am I so charged with static electricity? It started a couple of weeks ago. What causes it? Why is it happening to me loads now when it never did before? The hairdresser could hardly cut my hair with it flying all over the place. I vaguely remember learning something about static energy at school but I don't quite remember how it works. I just remember the bit with the balloon.

New Job Is Needed

I need a new job. I think life becomes a little too depressing when you are given praise for your Customer Services skills. Because the truth is I don't really want to make it a pleasant experience for people to buy things. I disagree with it. I look at the way people shop and they just don't appreciate the privelages they have. Grrrrrr. I won't go into a rant. Bottom line is. I need a new job.

I have been dead good about playing my sax and doing at least, on average, about 8 mintes 42 seconds a day. I thik that's pretty good considering. I think even if I played it for a minute a day it would be better than it lying in its case gathering dust. It's really hard though and I wish it wasn't so bloody loud. Can you get mutes for a sax? Anyway, Bert's loads better on the claro than I am the sax but I think he plays it all day long, alternating with his whistle.

Crosswords and Crusts

A while ago when I was on unemployed and signing on I read a magazine article about a women who spent all her time filling in competitions to win prizes. She did so many that by the law of averages she won quite frequently. I thought to myself as I read this, that sounds like my kind of job. I only lasted a few weeks at it and didn't win squat because I got so bored of the puzzles. All the crossword clues were repeated and they were too easy.

My favourite crossword clue is this one: Rough crust on a wound?

See, too easy. But I like this one because I like the word Scab and I love the way they describe it. Rough crust. I like scabs but only if they're my own. I am definitely a picker and miss the days when there was nearly always a scab on the go.

I also love the way the word scab is used these days. It's a versatile word that can be used to describe someone who is a bit manky or someone who sponges from you. I remember my friend Barbie used to always call us scabs although she was the Queen of the scab artists and we were more like her Scabettes. Now when I think about it I like the word crusty too and I'm beginning to think that maybe I've got an unhealthy obsession with minging words.

Anyway, I haven't completely given up on becoming a full time competition enterer but my problem at the minute is that I can get the competions filled in but I rarely send them off. I'm sure if I had sent them off I'd have won a TV or washing machine by now. Or even better, the supermarket trolley dash.

Happy Days

Yaaay!!! Nelly is finally all bradbanded up which means the prospect of sitting in front of a computer writing blogs, posting photos, sending emails and all that just seems so much easier, unless of course you have a Harry ze Cat sitting on your lap trying to nuzzle you.

So I was thinking with Nelly getting her broadband she would spend less time on the computer because everything is so much quicker but no, she spends just as long on it but gets twice as much done. See, once you get spoilt for broadband there's no going back.

My week off work was fantastic although I could maybe do with a liver transplant after it. So many people to catch up with and they're all a bunch of bloody boozers. And drinks are so cheap in the student's union. It's a recipe for disaster really.

I brought my saxophone back with me which Nelly hates because Bert has been itching to play it for a good while now and she knows a sax is much louder than a whistle. Jamie has ordered me to play at least 15 minutes each day. I played abit on Sunday but I have left it so long that I may as well be a beginner all over again. I didn't play yesterday as it was my first day back at work and I was too tired but I did play today (see Jamie, I kept my promise and any days I have off Bert will make sure he does an extra 15 minutes for me).

A few weeks ago at work I was asked by my floor manager if I was interested in working my way up the Next ladder to do senior sales. I told her I was happy enough being an underling for now and would probably use my degree (although this was a lie) to start a career. Today they told me they were training me up for senior sales anyway. Whether I liked it or not. Well, fuck them, let them train me up and then when I have my newly acquired skills I will leave Next to work in some other clothes shop, like Primark maybe.

Anyway, I'll think about updating flickr sometime.....soon.

The Big Smoke

I finally did enough time at Next to earn myself a whole week's holiday. I've taken this opportunity to come to Stoke and visit Jamie face and all my muckers. Coming back has been strange but nice. A part of me feels so safe and secure here I don't feel like I'm on holiday. At the same time though I remember what it's really like to live here and I know it's a good thing to have left. It's all to do with opportunities and there just are none in Stoke. It's been good to be back though and be reminded of that.

Anyway, I said a while ago that this blog would be no more and it would be called something else and written by me and Jamie. I've changed my mind now and me and Jamie are sharing a blog but I'm gonna keep this one going to. I can't just kill it off, it seems wrong. We haven't set asnything up yet but it will be over at My Space and I'll provide links and everything when it's up and running. I know that it's kinda silly to start up another blog when I'm so bad at updating this one but my sweet salt face will hopefully take some of the pressure off.

Happy New Year

It's been a while but I've finally managed to drag my lazy ass off the sofa and come write a post. But to be fair, I've had excuses. It's been Christmas and I was sick not just with a bad tummy ut the lurgi as well. And toothache. Also, I only had two days off for Christmas. Which sucks and I plan never to be in a job ever again where I don't get at least 4 days off for Christmas. And another reason is that my gorgeous boyfriend was here and we had better things to do than blogging.

Anyway, while Jamie was here we got chatting. The Palace of Heavenly Pleasure will be no more. I can't find the time and energy to update enough and make it as interesting and exciting as it could or should be. Instead a new blog will be born. It will be mine and Jamie's. This will take some of the pressure off for me because Jamie has better internet access and he can update more often than I can. It will also motivate me to post more regularly and it is a good way for me Jamie to share something even though we are hundreds of miles apart.

They want to keep me on at Next and as I haven't found another job yet I will stay on until something better comes along. I've earned myself a week's holiday from the place which I'm taking in a couple of weeks and going to visit everyone in Stoke. I wonder what it will feel like to be back there?

Next Please

When I started work at Next I tried to maintain a positive attitude towards it for as long as possible. Now after 7 weeks I can feel my brain turn to mush and my patience wearing so thin that if someone were to sneeze on it it would topple over. I hate consumers. I hate the way people turn into zombies, especally round this time of year. I don't think these people are stupid but I do think that when they enter the shops they leave their brains and their manners outside the door. I am sick of telling the customer that her card is in the wrong way and it goes in upsidedown from that and them taking it out and turning it back to front. How is a card any different from any other object?? When something needs to be turned upsidedown you do not turn it back to front. I don't know why it annoys me so much. Maybe it's because when it's a man and I tell him he always turns it upside down and I feel that these women are leting the side down. Anyway, I reckonl that if you don't know how to use your switch or visa card to pay then perhaps you shouldn't be using it at all and should just use good old fashioned cash.

Anyway, I am sick of cleaning up after the lazy hoors and I am sick of them asking me, 'What top would you put with that' I don't know I am not a fashion expert for children and it is your child your buying for surely you'd know a lot better than me. I even had one women ask me to find her something for a 2 year old. The women looked exhausted and just couldn't be bothered anymore. I thought it might be a bit rude to point out that she was asking me to find something for her which could take up to half an hour and they need me on the till because there's a queue the size of the river Nile so if she didn't mind being such an incompentent lazy cow and let me get on with my job, which is not as her personal slave. But I smiled and helped her.

And then there's the sales. The shop opens at 5 in the morning and people are already queueing to get in. The assistant manager advised me to watch the training video they have to prepare employees for the sales. She said she watched and even she was surprised so she definitely thought we should watch. I said no thanks it would probably put me off working during the sales. I have heard horror stories about people knocking you out of the way to get the bargains and when you come out of the stockroom to fill out the shelves the customers are grabbing things from your arms. I will seriously yell at anyone who does that to me because I can't stand my personal space being invaded. If they do that I will drop all the clothes on the ground and let the mad bitches scramble on the floor for them and laugh at their sad sad sad lives.

Having said all that, I can't wait for the sales to start. Not in Next but Topshop and HMV. I need new jeans and music and I will claw people's eyes to get them. Nah only joking. I shop responsibly and with brains and manners.

Sugar Sugar Sugar

It's a beautiful day and the sun is shining. That's what winter should be like. There's even a butterfly by the window. Harry ze Cat keeps trying to murder it but I won't let him. Yesterday I went to the health food shop to get some healthy sweets. This means licorice and sugar free gummy bears. The sugar free gummy bears aren't very nice. The guy that sold me them said they tasted waxy and they do. So much for my attempts at cutting down my sguar content. I also got caramel flavoured sugar free sweets which taste exactly like werther's originals. But while these sweets are good they wouldn't be enough to satisfy my craving for gummy textured sweets. Or chewy sweets.

Anyway, on Thursday night (music night) we had some real musicians. The Sniper and his wee chum from Cork. I'd never met the wee chum who Nelly reckoned bared an uncanny resemblence to Ewan MacGregor but he had a great voice and him and The Sniper played beautifully together. Nelly refused to make her famous pineapple and coconut scones for fear of spoiling the boys too much. Just right too for they would come to expect it and Nelly would never be done baking scones and tarts and pies. And on the subject of making tasty things I have given up trying to make chocolate fudge. I've attempted 3 times and ended up with kendal chocolate fudge cake, chocolate toffee and chocolate fudge sauce but never just chocolate fudge. So i've given up.

3 Posts in 1 Day

Jamie and my mum have both suggested that I'm lazy about doing my blog. I agree with them. It's because I've been feeling very lethargic recently. I have just about enough energy to get me through the week at work and by the time it's the weekend I'm shattered and just want to sleep the whole time. I've been blaming it on the lack of daylight, working, my diet but today when mum was at work and Bert was out doing errands and getting me sweets, I turned the music up and had a good dance to myself. It made me feel better almost instantly. So that's the problem. I haven't beeen dancing enough.

I danced to Sublime because they're a nice mix of fast and slow. I danced to Beck's new album but not all of it. In fact, I skipped some of his songs altogether. Black Tambourine was the best to dance to. I also danced to Bright Eyes although not every tune is great to dance to so I had some smoking breaks during that. Afterwards I felt rejuvenated and then Bert came back with sweets and chocolate.

IHS: Do You Have It?

I have always been a fan of comics and magazines. When I was younger it was the Beano and Dandy. Our dog Danny and Bert made it into the Beano . I'd sent a photograph of Bert and Danny playing on the beach and totally forget I'd even done it. Months later the next door neighbours knocked on our door to tell us and we went out to the shops to buy about 5 copies of it, all of which are lost now.

As I got older it chnaged to magazines such as Just 17, whih I started reading when I was 13 and stopped when I was 15. I remember flicking through copies of Nellymoms' Marie Claire and Cosmopolitan and thinking they were magazines for 35 year olds butI got into Cosmo just a few years ago and realised there is a lot to be learnt from it.

It was about the same time I got into Cosmo that I started reading magazines like Now and Heat. These are the trashiest magazines ever. Or at least that's what I thought until venturing out in the land of Chat and Take a Break. The reason I started to read these types of magazines is because I had this idea that I would become a professional competition enterer. I read in another magazine about a women who entered 60 competitions a week and was always winning free holidays and washing machines. That sounds like a good job I thought. But I grew bored very quickly and bought the magazines, did the puzzles but never got round to sending them off. Posting things is something I've always had trouble with. I can write a letter or buy a present no problem but when it comes to posting it it can take me months. I don't why.

So I had all these trashy magazines lying around and I couldn't help but read the articles. They sucked me in with their headlines screaming I Hacked My Toyboy Lover into a Thousand Pieces and Fed Him to His Parents. But what really got me about these magazines was the health pages and stories about normal everyday people's battles with rare diseases and such things. It got me thnking about all the unusal ailments out there and all the uusual ailments there could be. Like for example; what if you suffered from a condition where you couldn't eat anything because whatever you ate tasted so bad when you burped it again later that it would make you throw up. What makes me laugh about these things aswell is the names they give for people's ailments. It's always something something syndrome. Like Itchy Head Syndrome (IHS) or Foreign Accent Syndrome (FAS). FAS is actually a real one. I read about a guy having a stroke and he recovered completely except that he spoke with a foreign accent. The great thing is though, when people have had a mystery illness like this for years and it is finally diagnosed (quite often with no known cure for it), people say they are just happy to finally know what's been bothering them. Now if that was me I'd say, 'Right, so I've got Itchy Head Syndrome? And there's no cure for it? I don't believe you. You're just making this up.'

The Winter Blues

I have never been a fan of the winter time. It's dark and cold. I used to be scared of the dark and I have developed a fear of the cold since all those snowy mornings standing waiting for the bus in my school skirt. Winter is not something I live through it is something I survive. Christmas, on the other hand, is something that makes the winter worthwhile. Don't get me wrong, I hate what Christmas has become but every year it arouses all those feelings I had as a child when the phrase o load of commercial bollocks was not a part of my vocabulary.

This year is going to be an especially nice Christmas. We have a new house to celebrate it in and we have the company of both my sisters and their fellas. Unfortunately mine will not be joining us but he will be hear for the New Year. We have an expert chicken roaster and an expert cake baker so the eating should be good. Bt having said all that, roll on the 21st of March when we all lose an hour's sleep but gain an extra hours daylight. Woo Hoo I say. Can't wait. Only four more months to go. Then it is spring and the wee lambs will be bouncing about.

When I'm chatting to my darling Jamie sweet cheeks on the phone there's always something I forget to tell him until it mounts up and there's loads of things I keep meaning to say. Like, when he called into work the day I'd gone home early my work mate Liz saw him. Liz is a middle aged doll with young waynes and she works there part-time. So she asked me if that was my boyfriend in work looking for me last week and I sais 'Aye, poor thing was waiting out there for ages and I was sailing on the bus home' and she says 'He was nice' and I'm thinking she was meaning nice when she said 'Aye, I like the rugged type'. So she meant nice. She said I could tell him that he had middle aged admirers and I told her he'd be chuffed. Bet you are baby.

I also forgot to tell him about me sending out a staff announcement on the intercom saying 'Call on line 2 for ladie's wear' and ending it with 'Thankyou, Bye Bye' I could feel my face burn up almost immediately. But as well as all these things I forget to tell Jamie there are lots of things that I keep meaning to blg about but always forget. Like the incident with Mel, a cup of tea, a ducth shortcake biscuit and a pair of scissors.

Jamie's Wee Visit.

Last week jamie came to visit. He came on Thursday in time for music night. On Friday the poor thing and to wait around Ballymena for hours holding a bunch of flowers for a girl who'd gone home ages ago. We went out to O'Rawes with Lee and Bert and suffered the next day. Gillies on Saturday night where we were treated to a repertoire of music that we practice on our Thursday nights. We wakled back home from the pub on Saturday night. It was a cold and foggy evening but really atmospheric to be walking in the countryside at the dead of night. Jamie cooked delicious pasta and chicken on Monday night and we ate the best wee buns ever. I can't mind what they're called but they were tasty. On tuesday night we left Jamie to the airport and went to visit the wee manny and ate Ovaltines which are not the nicest bun in the world. The ingredients were rather miscellaneous and a bit sickly sweet.

I didn't want Jamie to go back to England 'cause we'd had such a nice time. When he did get back he had to spend the night at Manchester train station. Poor Jamie, always getting stranded.
All I can think of now is wee buns. I wonder should I go down to the shop and get some?

I went to the Ulster bank to see if they would let me withdraw the last remaining 2 pound 30 something from my Natwest account. But no, they couldn't. The only thing they can do is cash cheques if you have a Natwest account, which is useless if you only have a couple of pounds. So to set the record straight, the Ulster bank and Natwest are both useless. And if either banks are keeping you in designer suits then it is only at the expense of less fortunate beings and creatures.

I'm finding it tough maintaing a blog life as well as a full time job. I've rarely worked full time and I remember now that there was a very good reason for this. Having said that though my job is ok and I kow there are a lot worse. But it seems that nearly every job I have done since leavng university, I find myself thinking this job is ok but it's not as good as Student Support. Student support is the kind of job that if you're working with someone you get along with it can be fantastic. If you don't get along with the person then it can be pretty tough. Fortunately for me I'm the kind of person who can get on with most folk and even if I don't I'm very good at pretending. So after a month of working at Next I have remembered that while I would do just about anything for money (just about, I don't think I would be someone's footstool for any amount of money) there are certain types of work that I definitely prefer to do and support work is one of them.

Hurray For McSquirter

When we moved into our new house we still needed the TV ariel put up. The man who did our electrics, Jeemy McSquirter, said he could do our ariel too. The first time he came over he was able to get us channels 1 to 5 picture perfect but the RTE channels were a bit fuzzy. We told him we weren't that bothered about RTE and that we were happy enough with the ariel but McSquirter insisted on getting it 100 per cent perfect. Come 5 O'clock he gave up for the day but said he'd be back the next with a booster. So he came back the next day, and the next and a few other days the following week. When he came he seemed to be here for ages but never succeded in fixing RTE. Spent most of his time gunning and gassing and talking to the dogs. The whole thing had become a joke to me and Nelly and Bert.

Then I came back home from work one day and Bert flicked through all the extra RTE channels and said 'Guess who was here today'

'McSquirter', I said 'But sure look the picture's no better than that first day he was here'

'Aye , I know, he's coming back some other day to try something else with it'

And the next morning as I was watching TV before heading out to work I flicked over to RTE One and thought, McSquirter, My Hero, as there before me was an episode of Neighbours. So ow I can keep up to date with Dr. Karl and Susan's reunion and Joe Mangle getting together with Lyn. And it's all thanks to Jeemy.

Today is my big sister's lover man's birthday and thery're off to Mexico. I forgot to say it to Dave before so, Happy Birthday Dave hope you have a lovely time. Zoe, you will be pleased to here I am keeping up the domestic goddess image. Today I made chocolate fudge which tastes yummy but has a weird texture almost a bit like Kendal mint cake. This was because I made it using evaporated milk rather than condensed. Or maybe I cooked it too high.

A Rose From God

Last Friday night I went out for a few drinks with my sister Zoe. When I came back home I was carrying a single red rose. Bert wanted to know where it came from.

God gave me it.

Bert wanted to know how God had given me it.

An angel sent it.

So I explained. We had left the pub and were walking up the street when this girl came running after us and gave us each a single red rose. She said it was from God and it was to show us that no matter how much any man says he loves us he doesn't love us as much as God does. Zoe was trying hard to stifle her giggles.

So I was telling Jamie about this and he thought it was nice of God to give us roses. After my second day at work I got home and Bert told me a package had arrived for me. I opened it up and there was another single red rose. Not from God but from Jamie. But he'd outdone God and sent me another wee flower (Bert called it baby's breath) AND............



Chocolates.


So you see, this girl was wrong because Jamie must love me more than God does. God didn't send me any chocolates.

The Joys

It's taken me this long to write about the joys of being back home but everyday I've been here there has been something to put a smile on my face. Living out in the countryside is good for the soul. It makes you remember and appreciate the simple beauty in life. Autumn is a good time to be in the country and there's nothing nicer than walking down the road and seeing the browns and reds and greens of the trees. It is true that it rains a lot in Ireland but it is also true that it can be pissing it down one minute and the next minute the sun is coming out.

Another reason I love bein home is having pets around me. I love taking them for walks and cuddling up to them in front of the T.V. and I even love when Paddy starts a row with me even though he's a rough bugger and would bite the hand aff ye. I love the way Rosie barks at him when he does this and tries to protect me from the evil Paddy. I love the way that two minutes after that Paddy will come over and sit on top of you and lick your face and be the softest wee doggy ever. I love Harry ze cat too the way that if you refuse to feed him for the 4oth time he'll come and lie on top of you no matter what you're trying to do.

I also love the fact that I get to see more of Nellymoms and Zoe and Bert. Zoe is trying to make a lady out of me and teach me to bake buns. She also encourages me with my photography and provides me with her posh digital so I can take pictures with ease. She has made me realise that a digital camera is necessary if you want to do photography because SLRs aren't always practical. I tried hard to resist the temptations of technology but it always gets me in the end.

Thursday nights are music night and Bert's chums come round with their geetars and mandolins and banjoes. I join in with my geetar and it's good practise for me. I also get severe fits of the giggles though when it's not going so right and then that puts me off completely and I can't play. Anyway, I salute these guys because they all pcked up their instruments only a few yaers ago and for some even less and they've come along great. Better than me who's been playing for longer.



Sometimes I get a wee pang for Stoke.