Say what?!

So apparently I'm not a Capricorn anymore. This has thrown me slightly I gotta say.

When I was a deluded teen I used to hunt for the goat (my starsign 'mascot' if you will) in the 'astrology' page of Bliss magazine and devoured every word, especially the 'love life' section which satisfied me every time with its mention of 'surprise dates', 'secret admirers' and 'a spontaneous gift of a field of sunflowers in rural Sardinia in which yourself and hunk of the month will frolic in' (okay ,the latter isn't strictly true but I had a good imagination at the time)

So now I'm part of that cool gang of Aquarius'.  Which sounds kinda like some achingly cool mermaid gang out at sea eating their organic seaweed and floating from place to place with a big glossy mane of hair which always seems to follow gracefully behind them so they never end up swallowing a mouthful when they make an abrupt turn with their perfectly sized fins.  Sigh.

I'll ignore the fact that I think astrology is a load of rubbish and run with this little fantasy but if you are pondering your next tattoo, here is a useful guide:

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hullo 2011 ;)

You'd be forgiven for thinking that this blog is as dead as a dodo but I felt sorry for this little blog with its outdated 'Christmas snow' effect falling sadly in the background so thought i'd give it some blog lovin'. The snow effect will remain until I work out how the heck to get it off, plus its very becoming don't you think?

So Christmas and NYE has been and gone and left my favourite jeans feeling a tad too snug for my liking. Christmas was a slightly tame affair since my childhood digs lie in the middle of the Mourne Mountains; they're very pretty with their snow cap and sunsets in the background an' all, but what with the local residents being a few hundred heifers, sheep and that odd farmer round the corner who opted for a horse in place of a wife, it didn't make for a riotous Boxing Day knees-up...i'm gonna be honest.  I squeezed in a bit of reading, walking and gossiping with the few friends that happen to live within a 10 mile radius before donning my gladrags and escaping to Wexford (South Ireland) with around 30 others.

Wexford was a different kettle of fish altogether.  If there was a cow, I wouldn't have been able to spot it for being distracted by this magnificent house we had rented for a few days to usher in 'twenty one one'.
Cinema! Jacuzzi! Private Irish bar! Big Bouncy Trampoline!
...I settled in no problem as you can very well imagine. Once I got past the fact that the main colour scheme was cream (30 people, alcohol; go figure) I had a large sea mammal of a time I tell thee.

Next up was my birthday on the 7th.  This is quite possibly the worse time to have a birthday what with everyone on some carrot juice detox diet/broke/studying or too depressed over the fact that they have broken their NY resolutions already, although i do know someone born on April Fools Day which is decidedly worse.
Joey exceeded himself by taking me out to my fave restaurant, a surprise gathering at the funfair and ice skating.  The latter was tray amusant as the dude spent most of the time pulling himself around the edge of the rink while cursing the rink supervisor who was putting on quite a show - he only stopped short of doing a full mid-air pirouette dear readers.  Joe contented himself with the assertion that he is very probably better at football than said supervisor and off he went for another long slug around the edge of the rink.

On an unrelated note, its my turn to unleash my culinary genius this Sunday for 'Come Dine With Me'.  So far i've decided on Broccoli and Stilton soup as a starter (mainly because i know they will recoil in horror at the sight of it on the menu and i want to see their terrified little faces around the table) and apple crumble with custurd to polish it all off.  You will find me in the 'Cookery' section of Waterstone's this weekend furiously flicking pages of Nigella, Delia and Gordon's offerings for something to complete the 'main meal' part of my winning combination (*kisses imaginary laminated menu*)

Quick, pass the Kleenex!

Bottle from Kirsten Lepore on Vimeo.


Kirsten Lepore’s award-winning stop-motion short Bottle “details a transoceanic conversation between two characters via objects in a bottle.” 

(sigh!)

Me: "Mum, my throat feels all scratchy"
Mother: "I have something for that"

Me: "Mum, I have this horrible stain on my new suede boots and it won't budge"
Mother: "I have something for that"

Me: "Mum, I've walked the dog and now she stinks"
Mother:: "I have something for that"

Me: "Mum, i want world peace"
Mother: "Let me have a look in the cupboard, I might have something for that"

Why think for myself when I can live happily ever after in this lil cuddly ball of cotton wool in which my mother has most likely placed a hot water bottle under the covers to keep me warm? You guessed it, I'm home for the weekend and loving it.  The concrete jungle that is Dublin just doesn't appeal to my inner country bumpkin in the same way that catching a whiff of cow poo and having to walk for miles to encounter civilisation does!

c/anais lee creative

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year...

Its that time of year again where i arise at some ungodly hour of the morning at the weekend and run like a headless chicken up and down Grafton Street looking for something to light up the faces of my nearest and dearest on Christmas Day.  If i could get away with buying them some smelly soapy stuff from the pharmacy then I would have the clan smelling of roses with vanilla overtones on Christmas morning but nay, they're a fussy lot.  I don't want to dabble in online shopping as I'd just end up using hours browsing through over-expensive remote controlled helicopters, bookmarking them for later and then going on to check out the credentials by reading the reviews.  All this with Facebook breaks in-between. Nah, I'm going to brave the elements and get my sorry self to town.  It may mean I will rugby-tackle a complete stranger to the ground for the last signed copy of Marian Keye's latest page-turner, but I know Mother Bleakley would do the same!

In the meantime, I'm counting on a reaction akin to this one for my efforts:

Snow? What snow?

Not having a post about the recent white blanket that has enveloped our Emerald Isle would be like ignoring the big white freezing elephant in the room, so here it is.

It snowed in November in Ireland, and it hasn't stopped.

In the past week we have seen Facebook news feeds overtaken with snow-related updates (just in case you didn't know it was snowing, presumably), public transport services being cancelled mere hours after Brian Cowen and co asked us to rely on said public services. We've also seen videos of unfortunate souls doing their best impression of Michael Flatley on fast-forward trying to stay upright on the ice going viral on YouTube and the public masses taking to the streets wearing oversized slippers on their feet i.e. Uggs.

I for one, quite like the snow. Its Christmas-y, its romantic and doesn't happen very often.  But the real reason I love the snow is because I live 2 minutes walk from work, I don't drive a car and I haven't been pelted with a snowball by a lurking 12 year old looking to pass the time now that schools out.  Yet.

Here are some photos for your viewing pleasure old chums:

See that dude in that picture right there?  Look up.  Yeah, the one that's doing the 'why-is-she-making-me-pose-for-a photo-when-i-could-be-playing-with-the-ducks' face.  Well readers, he's only gone and got himself a place in the Irish national team for futsal!  Well done boyfriend, looks like he's gone and made a WAG outta me!

@http://icanhascheezburger.com/