the craic girl

2007-06-05T13:31:00.000+01:00

(Apparently) I've Still Got It....

Out on Saturday night with Best Mate J (from school days), other great mate D (also from school) and S (the other lady that I work with who is "hopefully" me in ten years time). Visited amazing tapas restaurant (who knew such fine Spanish cuisine could be found in Belfast), drank loads of wine, went to see Girls Aloud (not one of my finer cultural moments, but spectacular entertainment nonetheless) and then ended up in cheesy club full of young children later on.

By this stage copious amounts of alcohol had been consumed by all concerned. My memory has faded by this stage. No wonder the Government are trying to do more to ban evil binge drinking. I went up to a guy and commented how much he looked like my next door neighbour which was true. I was kind of hoping it was going to be my actual next door neighbour - it wasn't. The Boy asked me if I fancied my next door neighbour, to which I replied by snogging him (I think?). Anyway there was definitely snogging involved at some stage. I do remember that I asked him to guess my age which he got fabulously wrong. I was my delighted drunken self. Turns out he was only 22. I am a couple of months away from being 30.

We swapped numbers. I have no intention of calling him because aside from any other good reasons for not calling him, I can't actually remember his name.

It was fun. It was lovely. He was a great kisser and I've been on cloud 9. But that's it.

2007-05-24T13:51:00.000+01:00

How to Finish with Someone - Part 2....

.....and so it was that the Boy and I went our separate ways.

I said to him that there were many good aspects to our relationship but not enough to keep things going. I told him I would still like to go with him to the theatre using the theatre tickets I'd bought him for his birthday. Both tickets were still in my possession at the time of the split. I said that if he'd rather go with a friend then he could have my ticket. He said he'd be in touch.

The following Friday I texted him to see what he wanted to do. He texted (I love the fact that "text" is now a verb) back saying that he didn't fancy it and I could use the tickets myself. I quickly got in touch with a friend who was visiting me from Dublin that weekend to see if she wanted to come up a day earlier and go to the theatre. She agreed and arrangements were made.

Picture the scene.... The craic girl is dressed in adidas trackies (covered in years of paint from different house makeovers) and an old free T-shirt (also covered in paint. My hair is scraped back and I am practically knee deep in marshmallow pink coloured paint. I'm painting the kitchen in the "Smallest Apartment in the World TM" when my mobile goes. I answer it using a paint covered latex glove covered hand without looking to see who the caller is. It is my now ex S who says that he's changed his mind and would now like to go to the theatre. I am quite taken aback by this but have no option other than to say that I'm going with a friend from out of town and it's all arranged.

Unfortunately mate you're too late.

Still feel guilty about this. If I had bought him a present such as CDs etc I wouldn't be asking for them back. I intend to take his some sort of reimbursement when I leave back his Justin CD. I know I coudl just think oh sod it, but it'll haunt my for a long time if I don't draw a line under it soon.

Any suggestions?

2007-05-23T13:13:00.001+01:00

How to Finish with Someone - Part 1....

So the boy S and I split up some time ago now - just before Easter, after nearly four months together. Well when I say together I really mean seeing each other.

We had been friends (through other friends) for about 2 years prior to the snogging incident at the start of December 2006, which was the start of a "relationship". All was good. I wasn't exactly sure if I totally fancied him but thought I would give it a go and see what happened. I'm so fickle and so shallow at times that I do worry that I might miss out on "the one" (or one of the many "the one"s - depending on how you look at it) so from time to time I date people who I'm initially not 100% about to see how I might feel. This makes me sound very heartless (probably) but let's face the one's that I have felt 100% sure of haven't worked out either and it's good to try new things. I honestly thought that S had the potential to be my Harry (as in Charlotte from Sex and the City's husband Harry).

Things were going well enough, but a month in and nothing had happened in the bedroom department. I'd even turned up at his house drunk in an attempt to move things along. He walked me back home, kiss on the doorstep.... the Craic Girl goes to bed alone. In previous relationships and flings I've been the one shoving rampant suitors out of the door when things have got too frisky. Until now I'd never been the one left wanting more, usually I'm the one wanting and needing some sleep and a break! The next three months were no different, if anything I felt he backed off from me. I realise now that if I had really cared for S and had seen a future together I would have talked to him about this aspect of our relationship. Maybe he was waiting for marriage? Maybe he was waiting for me to take the lead? Who knows?

We were great at dinner, often last to leave restaurants, great at talking and chatting late into the night and on the phone and great at watching films. I'd finally met someone who allowed me the space, time and respect to dissect the films we'd seen and form opinions about them. I've never felt confident enough to do this with anyone else before.

We were terrible at making time for each other, both of us taking on more than ever before, forcing a relationship into the tiniest windows. I felt that he was often guilty of not making plans in advance. While I enjoy spotaneity, my life is generally structured and planned - cramming in as much as possible. When he asked me to do something and my time was already committed I ended up feeling bad about things.

S works late a few nights during the week so by the time Friday night rolls around he was always exhausted. I knew this so never put pressure on him to catch up on a Friday. Nearly every week that we dated he would promise to do something on Friday night only to phone or text nearer the time to cancel. The final one was where we had arranged to catch up on the Friday and as usual (you could've set your watch by him) he phoned to cancel saying instead that we could do something on the Saturday night instead. I said that I already had plans with other friedns and he seemed a bit mythed until I pointed out that had I seen him on the Friday as planned it was perfectly permissible to catch up with friends on Saturday.

I was terrified about going to finish him, mainly because I have mostly been dumped rather than the dumper. Confrontation does not rest easily with me. I would have much rather driven to Derry or Donegal than call round at his to call things off.

I went into his house and said how I thought there was no point continuing to see each other as I didn't think there was enough of a spark between us. He replied with such a classic line that I have it filed away in case I'm dumped in the future. I've passed it onto friends and now to the blogosphere. He said:

"Yeah, I'd been thinking the same...."

Thinking the same - eh? Well why didn't you say so? Readers, remember this one. Tattoo it on your arm if you can't. Very, very useful come back and shrug off.

I'm glad that we did give it a go though. I would have wondered "what if". I have learnt that if I am mad about someone then I will make time for them in my life. I have also learnt that if someone really likes me then they will show me. Nothing is pointless so long as something is learnt.

2007-05-22T20:48:00.000+01:00

My Life in Brief....

Well since I am not likely to get around to updating my blog in a lengthy way anytime soon I will quickly fill you in on all the news (if anyone is still interested). The following comes from a similar recent email to a friend who I've never met (who I hope won't mind):

I split up with the boy just before Easter. Didn't think that it was going anywhere (not enough spark) after 4 months together. Plus there was no sex happening and without going into too much detail it wasn't me that wasn't up for it. Maybe he was waiting for marriage - I don't know? I think if he had ticked all the other boxes I would have spoken to him about it. No tears from me - all good.
No dates since though.
Thinking about speed-dating later this week as it is getting hard finding attractive tall men in Belfast. Realistically though it's on Thursday. It's probably sold out by now and I have too much work to do to go.
Slightly in love (from a far) with an old snog buddy who lives round the corner. He is off to London though in a few months to study for a year so think it wise not to go down that road of long-distance relationships again.
My mum has put my family home (the only place I have ever called home - she's never moved my whole life) on the market. Tonight she's been shown other people with hopes and dreams around the place where I've had most of mine nurtured.
I have had coffee with the Hobbits that live across the hall from me. They are actually lovely.
I've been organising three hen weekends for the brides that I am bridesmaid for this year.
I've been trying to not eat so much rubbish in an attempt to not put on any more weight.
I'm working on too many homers (private work outside normal proper work). They are slowly driving me mental even though it is extra money.
My ex M has publicly announced that he is in a new relationship on a well known site ont internet. This has annoyed me because he never announced similar when he was with me and also he is currently living and working in foreign parts so I'm not sure how he is managing this. I fear that this is an announcement aimed primarily at me, because he knows that I have googled him in the past (when we were together) and I really want to email him and tell him to F*** off and get over himself but then that would be me actually caring about what he does. In some ways I don't care but obviously because I haven't found someone (read anyone) better than him it would appear that I do care. I really hope he has sorted himself out and doesn't mess someone else's emotions about.
I realise now that I have never told anyone that I loved them (aside from family) and meant it. I told M that I loved him which I thought I meant at the time but I sadly I said it really to provoke a reaction from him and see what he had to say for himself. Strangely it didn't work. We split up about two days later.
Oh and most excitingly I had my actual name mentioned on Radio One last week.

Regardless of all that I've said above I am happy - just working too hard but that'll be coming to an end soon.
That's about it at the moment....

Sorry for such an outburst but once I started I couldn't stop! I miss having the time to blog.

I hope that I find the time to elaborate more on the above points but at least you'll know where I'm at.

My Briefs in Life....

2007-05-10T16:43:00.000+01:00

Is Technology Bringing Us More Up Close and Personal With Each Other?

Readers (if indeed there are any left after my lengthy absence).... I have today experienced that the blog-osphere or world of blogging is incredibily small.

Today I was reading the comments on one of my favourite blogs (although yet to appear on my blogroll) and linked back to one of the commenter's blogs where they had posted their photo. Nothing unusual about that. Good blog discovered. Later on I was looking at an Ex's (yes stalking is bad, but it's been a slow day) website which linked onto someone else's. I went there and low and behold this person is bezza mates with the good blog I was reading for the first time this morning as there are lots of photos of them.

If all these people lived in the same village and I met them all in the local pub - then it would be a coincidence but given that the people involved reside in: Edinburgh, London, somewhere very foreign and I'm in Belfast then it's particularly mental.

As indeed is my life at the moment.... I am doing ok, just too busy, but I will get through some of this soon.

2007-03-09T09:58:00.001Z

Laugh With Me....

Head over to this site here readers and see about getting your work published as part of an excellent way to make money for Comic Relief. Troubled Diva is looking for bloggers to email in suitably funny posts (and he doesn't mean funny strange, he means funny ha-ha) for inclusion in a book to sell to raise money.

Simple....

So I urge you to call over that way and see what you can dig out of your archives in the aid of charidee. All the rules are there. Right I'm off to see if I have anything suitable - I doubt it but you never know.

Ok.... So after reading my complete archives - which took all of about 5 minutes - I've decided that I'm more funny strange than funny ha-ha.

2007-03-02T10:40:00.000Z

Help Me....

Just a quick post to enlist some help from any Northern Irish or Irish readers.....

Regular readers of this blog will know that I am bridesmaid three times this year. The search for dresses is proving difficult.

I am looking for the following dress:

full length
satin (type material)
strapless
preferably with sweetheart neck line
generous draping across the waist
diagonal cut across the middle rather than straight across
coral or bright pinky orange (watermelon) - colour similar to Girls Aloud favourite Cheryl Cole's bridesmaids' dresses.

Any suggestions on where to go gratefully received.

In other news I am delighted to have been tagged by Drama Queen and will get writing a post of What's Not on My iPod later on today.

2007-03-01T17:07:00.000Z

Tag Me....

I have been tagged for the first time ever in my blogging life. I am very excited and see it as a modern day chain-letter without the death threats.

This one comes from the lovely Drama Queen:

"Goth made me do this. . .

(this is his words - see my comments from todays post)

Now I can't do the bag-tag that's going around at the moment (contents of my handbag being fuck all) so I'm going to create another TAG - if you have an iPod, you have to switch it to random and list (truthfully) the first ten songs, artists that it throws up and seeing as you cannot tag just one person I tag the following 5:-Goth, SH, CJ, Craic Girl, Elisabeth. Answers on your blogs please and then you have to TAG another 5 peeps - let the fun begin.

(No iPod? not getting out that easy, pretend you have one and let's hear what weird crap you listen to.....)".

I recently bought an iPod - it is a beautiful cerise pink nano. I carry it everywhere with me. This is mainly because I am scared of someone stealing if they break into the Smallest Apartment in the World Ever. I have not yet got around to putting any tunes on it. This is mainly because I don't yet have my own computer.

So instead I am going to be a bit retro and list ten songs from a random compilation CD (and you thought I was going to say tape - sorry! Although I have about 40 odd compilation tapes from my teens knocking about somewhere in my mother's roofspace) that I made.

Friday I'm in Love - The Cure
Filthy - Saint Etienne
Your Ghost - Kristen Hirsch and Michael Stipe
I Feel Love - Donna Summer - (#1 when I was born)
Spinning Around - Kylie
You Spin Me Round - Dead or Alive
Pure Shores - All Saints
This Charming Man - The Smiths
Hung Up - Madonna
Brim Full of Asha - Cornershop

Onwards tagging will happen on Monday because I have a deadline to meet in work. Hooray for the weekend! Have a good one y'all.

2007-02-27T12:54:00.000Z

Book Me....

I am, by my own reckoning, very busy. I am not exceptionally busy when compared to other people (I don't run my own business, I don't have children or a live-in partner) but my free time (outside work) is planned and organised down to the last second. I am happy (most of the time) with this state of affairs. However, every so often I like some "me" time.

At the moment I am getting "booked up" far in advance for various things, such as, bridesmaid dress shopping, wedding items in general, working in best mate J's shop, goddaughter-sitting, other work related items that occur outside normal working hours, nights out, lunches, cinema trips....

I like having full days. I like nothing more than knowing what I will be up to three weeks from now.

Here follows a rant:

What I cannot tolerate is this: when I ask you round for dinner, please don't wait until the actual day of said invitation to confirm that you will be coming. For a start my house may be in a state of organised chaos (although it will always be very clean). I am creative - I live like this, but I like to have warning that friends are coming round so that I can make things look a little bit more organised. It is also likely that I will not have any food in the house that you would like to eat. Mostly during the week I eat random (think: Ready, Steady, Cook) combinations of vegetables, different pasta sauces, fish with pasta, rice or risotto. So when I ask you round for dinner a week in advance, please reply even the day before and emailing me on a Sunday to my work email address doesn't count since I can't access it. Even a text message would be great.

Another thing that I cannot tolerate is this: when I suggest catching up on Thursday night, late night shopping to look at bridesmaid dresses, don't say you'll have to think about it and then never get back to me. I mentioned that I had pencilled you in for that date. I will not arrange to be doing anything else. I could be doing plenty of other things. This is not fair.

Maybe I'm being a bit too anally retentive with my "supposed" free time. Maybe I should be more relaxed but I am trying very hard to juggle a lot of things at the moment so some considerate thought would be appreciated. I am trying hard to keep three (yeah - count em') brides happy and assist in wedding planning as much as possible, I am trying to provide support to my mum (who is thinking of selling my family home and moving house), I am trying to support my baby sister through depression and living away from the homeland, I am trying to have a relationship with a lovely Boy who makes me happy and I am also trying to keep doing the things that make me happy (yoga being one of them). I try my best to always treat people how I would like to be treated, so spare a thought and think how you would feel if things were sprung on you from a great height.

Here endth the rant....

2007-02-26T13:54:00.000Z

Soak Me....

Out on Saturday night (in Belfast - where else?!) with best mate J and other good friend from school days (OFSD). Hilariously (although not at the time) I got a drink thrown over me (well kind of).... OFSD had just been to the bar and got a full round in. I hadn't even had a sip out of my G and T when the next thing I knew it was all round me and a girl was sprawled across our table and practically sitting on my knee!

We were sitting near steps and she was so drunk that she had missed them all and landed on our table. The girl just got up and walked away without saying anything, so I followed her. I tapped her on the shoulder and said: "Any chance of a replacement drink?" but she was so drunk that she couldn't even speak. The girl started messing about with a safety pin that was holding her top to her bra. She had no handbag and no friends nearby. I said to a member of the bar staff that she was obviously in trouble, having maybe had too much to drink and could they help her. I have no idea what happened to her.

I was raging and completely soaked from my neck to my knees. I did dry out a bit but my crotch area was soaking, so hopefully no one thought that I'd wet myself!! Or that I was an alcoholic due to the strong smell of gin coming from me!!

Later that night, I did feel guilty because heaven knows what happened to this girl. How did she get home? Did she get home safely? Is she ok now? Was her drink spiked? Was there someone there to look after her. I hope so. I hope she found her friends.

2007-02-22T17:08:00.000Z

Twist Me, Turn Me....

From my two most recent posts it would appear that there's being a lot of wishing going on. Well hypothetically at least....

I practise yoga every Wednesday night. I have been doing yoga with the same teacher for just over three years. Today's wish is that yoga had come into my life a lot sooner than it did. I used to come to yoga a stressed out mess and would leave on cloud nine, feeling like a completely different person. At the moment I am a much more normal person when I come in the door of my class but I still manage to leave feeling like I'm sitting on a shooting star or a rainbow.

Most of this is down to the yoga while some of this is down to my fabulous yoga teacher. My last job was based close to where she teaches, so it was handy to drop in on the way home (which is further away again). Now that work and my house are within close proximity to each other in Belfast (in the complete opposite direction from where I used to hale from), I have to drive to my yoga class (as my teacher doesn't teach in Belfast) but it is so worth it. Not very yoga with my huge carbon footprint but I'll try not to worry about that.

I am not the most likely candidate for yoga in many respects but I would encourage anyone who has ever thought of going along to a class to give it a go. Don't go to just one class though, I would recommend that you try at least three before making a decision as to whether it's for you or not. I laughed constantly throughout my initial few classes and I still giggle at times and fall over even after three years. Also remember that there are so many different types of yoga that one type might suit you and your best friend might prefer another.

My yoga teacher has, just last year changed to teach a slightly different type of yoga, called Yogabeats which is pionneered by David Sye. I went along to one of his workshops in Belfast towards the end of last year and it was totally amazing - if not just to witness the man himself in action. Check out the Yogabeats website for images of what this flexible man can do and a prize if you can spot me from the back in one of the photos from the Belfast event!

One downside though to all this yoga is that it has made me openly jealous of my 18 month old god-daughter. I watch her as she squats down to play with toys, does the most perfect "dog head downs" without even blinking and full on forward bends. Oh to be so flexible!

2007-02-21T10:55:00.000Z

I Wish I Was a Little Bit Taller....

While watching the terrible show that is "You Are What You Eat - Gillian Moves In" on Channel 4 last night, the Boy and I were discussing BMI (Body Mass Index). I commented on how one of the women on last night's show must be shorter in height than me, because she weighed the same as me but looked (I think) a lot fatter that I look (I hope). The Boy agreed that indeed I didn't look as fat as the woman on TV.

He then asked what height I am. I'm 5'9" while he is (according to him) 5'10" apparently. I'm not so sure that is even slightly taller than me. I am more of the viewpoint that he is smaller than me. I think he's got that man disease (similar to Man Flu) where all men are convinced that they are taller than they actually are. I will get to the bottom of this, if I have to measure him myself!! The Boy is really good at Maths so one would assume that he should know what height he is....

A small note from the author in relation to recent absence: Blogger officially hates me and has eaten some posts that have taken me ages to write. I am not happy about this so have taken to writing in Word and then copying across. There is no such thing as normal service on this blog I'm afraid. I am managing to find time to lurk on other people's blogs and comment on others from time to time. Hope you're all well.

2007-02-08T17:15:00.000Z

I Wish I Was on the N17.... Stone Walls and the Grass is Green....*

I am meeting up with an old friend of mine tonight who I've not seen in about 7 or 8 years - it's so long I actually can't remember. N was a few years above me at college. She is from County Donegal and is one of the most amazing people I have ever met - quite an accolade but so deserved.

We met through the (at the time) Love of My Life (LoML) who was buggering off to go and live in America, leaving me to carry on as normal. LoML (who's story will be told some day on this blog) asked N to look after me and she did. She was always around to offer some more grown up advice - I was 20. N always instinctively called me when hand-ins were just around the corner, sent me meaningful and inspiring books from time to time (all of which I never would have chosen for myself, but have loved) and even chocolate when the stress and misery (of my final year) got so bad I could hardly bring myself to eat.

Although we live on the same island it has been tricky meeting up. For a long time I had no way of contacting N, bar a postal address for Donegal that may as well have started 2nd hole in the hedge because it was so vague. Plus she has moved around all over the place lately.

So tonight we are catching up at long last. She has tickets for Van Morrison and although I'm not really a fan I'm going to avail of the spare ticket just to hang out with my mate. It will no doubt be money well spent, even if Van is not my cup of tea. N only got in touch a few weeks ago about tonight, so no doubt there may be a story about some useless boy (I'm guessing here) that bailed at the last minute. I can't wait to see her. I just know it will be like old times. Will hopefully tell all tomorrow.

* N17 - Saw Doctors

2007-02-07T13:21:00.000Z

Notes on a Scandal....

Relations between the Boy and I are going from strength to strength despite the following misdemeanor (although really I think that it is a lot worse than a mere misdemeanor) on my part....

The Boy picked up his completely brand new black VW Golf on Friday afternoon. I didn't get to see the car or more importantly the Boy until Sunday evening for a number of reasons.... I was getting my hair coloured on Friday night but the appointment lasted three whole hours, so by the time I get back to Belfast it was very late.

On Saturday best mate J and other great mate D were heading away to a hotel up north that will be the venue for best mate J's wedding later this year. We got a great deal for champagne on arrival, room, dinner and breakfast. The whole experience was truly wonderful. Typically though check out time was 11 am (why is this when you can't check in until 3 pm?) and I was back down the road to Belfast in the blink of an eye.

So then to Sunday night. The Boy called round to pick me up for us to go to the cinema to see "Notes on a Scandal". Judi Dench and Cate Blanchett was amazing despite me being disappointed that Cate didn't have a Belfast accent - don't know why I thought she did apart from the fact that one of her pupils has (and he's originally from Donegal - so make of that what you will). Following the film we went for coffee before the Boy left me back to mine and this is when disaster struck. As I left his beautiful clean shiny new automobile I remember being a bit clumsy with my razor sharp metal killer heels but thought nothing of it at the time.

The next day I was a passenger in Colleague K's identical black VW Golf wearing same bottes dangereuses (dangerous boots - but doesn't the french translation sound lovely) and did the same move (thankfully not scrapping this car) and then it hit me that there was a high chance that I might have scratched the Boy's car in the same manoeuvre the previous night. I worried and worried all day and into the evening about this.

I was working late on Monday night and called by the Boy's house on the way home to tell him. Perhaps he was worried that I was going to finish with him (note to self: don't start conversations with the immortal line: "I've got some terrible news...." - it only worries people) because when I explained what I thought had happened and my suspicions were visually confirmed he was surprisingly calm and unfussed (apparently not recognised by spell check - but surely it must be an actual word?) about the whole thing. I said that if he changed his mind and was bothered about it that I would happily pay for it to be fixed but his attitude was that car will always end up getting scratched and not to really about it. He also said that he thought it was really sweet that I was so worried. The scratch in question is about 3/4 of an inch long but it's not really the point.

This makes me like him a little bit more for not hating me.

2007-01-31T13:59:00.001Z

Patience is a Virtue....

Some time ago, kind friends N+K gave me a voucher for a local beauty salon for my birthday. I phoned the salon in early December to book an appointment but they had no available slots on any of their late nights that side of Christmas. I contacted them at the beginning of January and made an appointment for a Thursday night - which I then cancelled because the Boy was randomly off work and wanted to catch up. I rearranged for the following Thursday (keeping up with all this - I do hope so) only for the salon to phone on the Wednesday to cancel and reschedule for the Friday evening.

I duly arrived for my luxury pedicure and was soon settled into a comfy chair and warm vibrating foot bath. All went well.... I advised the beauty therapist (BT) that I have very tickly feet and had never had a pedicure carried out due to my fear of laughing too much. I needn't have worried because the right amount of pressure was applied and the pedicure almost went without a hitch.

I say almost because immediately after painting my toe nails with several thick coats of rouge noir coloured nail varnish BT hurried me into my flip flops (instantly smudging one of my big toe nails, which she duly retouched) and out onto the street. By the time I drove home, my feet looked like someone had committed a very bloody murder in the vicinity of the pedals in my car. I was literally covered in blood coloured nail polish - but only from my big toes.

I left this carnage to dry to the following day and then sorted it all out myself. I know it was a Friday night, a night that the salon isn't normally open late, but some time (or at the very least a hairdryer) would have been appreciated.

2007-01-31T13:27:00.000Z

Cheap Blonde?....

Starting with a small aside (me one to talk in tangents - never!).... From now I am going to refer to S as the Boy - because that is what my mother refers to him as and I think it is now safe to assume that he is my Boy.

So the Boy has managed to redeem himself, although I couldn't be arsed having a serious conversation over the weekend about why going to a wedding party was "too serious". As it happens I woke up on Saturday morning with a sore throat that felt like it was actually made of broken glass. On top of this I was still feeling somewhat out of sorts given the working week that was: IBS.

The Craic Girl was unusually not feeling like partying into the wee small hours so I decided not to go and instead spent the day chasing medication for my various ailments, phoning my wonderful History of Art teacher (from school) to arrange a lunch date, visiting best mate J and my mother (who were working together in best mate J's shop) and last but by no means least hanging out on the Boy's sofa - but declining the urge to kiss him because I didn't want him to catch the dreaded lurgy. He talks a lot (generally) and as part of his job - so didn't want him to lose his voice.

The Boy had the offer of meeting up with our mutual friends on Saturday night and I said that I wouldn't be up for going given my delicate state but I would happily drive him to the pub. As time marched on the Boy made no moves to announce that it was in fact time to go to the pub and after some prodding from me he said: "Well I'd rather stay in with you" and so he did.

I think my heart melted. Am I too easily bought?

2007-01-26T13:28:00.000Z

Losing It....

Having read some beautifully written and wonderfully touching posts about other bloggers' parents recently I have been left feeling guilty and terribly selfish that I have chosen not to be in touch with my father: good, bad or otherwise. I know that there are some bloggers who would do anything for a few more minutes with their parent. I am sure I must sound ungrateful and unappreciative given that my father lives a handful of miles away from me but it just a very different situation.

In more work related news.... I am at a crossroads in my career. I can either sit where I am while other younger people overtake me or I can grab the proverbial bull by the horns and start being a fantastically mortivated, creative person who learns new things on a daily basis. I need to build on the experience I have and prove that I am getting better at doing my work while appearing to be ambitious. I'm just not quite sure how to actually go about doing any of this. I always worry about asking questions in case people think I'm stupid and I sometimes find it hard to stay focussed on certain pieces of work.

I have always been slow at my work as perceived by previous employers and this also worries me. I see myself as more articulate and accurrate but other people do not.

I am terrified of losing this job that I ultimately do love to pieces but I am confused about how to turn things around.

In boyf related news.... I was to be attending a wedding party this weekend for some friends who ran off to Gretna Green and got wed. I had finally plucked up the courage on Tuesday to ask S to be my "plus one". [Asking boyfs to accompany me to things is a situation where I'd rather stick pins in my eyes. I fear rejection so badly.... but that's another long story.]

We chatted on the phone about this: "Yes you can wear your jeans", "Yes we will be staying over", "No, I won't know hardly anyone either" and "Yes my friends are absolutely lovely". That sort of thing. So he provisionally said yes, but would confirm on Wednesday - he wanted some time to think about things. S phoned on Wednesday night to say that he wouldn't be going after all... "it seems a bit too serious". I said that it was no big deal (secretly meaning that it was a huge deal). There is more to be had on this conversation, though I'm guessing it's mostly to do with the whole "staying over" aspect which is a huge deal but it's not like I'm going to jump him in the middle of the night (though after several gins I might well try). I think that he should be jumping at the chance to spend time with me.

Really the last thing I need is to be drinking myself into oblivion of a Saturday night. Yesterday I called and cancelled the hotel room I'd booked. I have been literally crippled with IBS this week. I took Monday off work but have since felt a lot worse. Basically I'd not been to the toilet (except to pass water - I hope you've all eaten your lunch!) since Monday evening, was bloated, looked fat, was in agony with cramps (which no drugs will alleviate) and my face was breaking out due to all the toxins stuck in my system. This is no surprise as I get myself very worked up about certains scenarios - like asking boyfs to go to events. Finally this morning the blockage cleared but I am going to be kind to myself and take it easy this weekend. No alcohol. Lots of fibre, fruit and veg. If I do feel up to partying then I'm driving and not drinking.

The whoel experience certainly hasn't boosted my confidence in asking people to do things or making arrangements. In fact it'll be a while before I'm doing it again - for one my bloated stomach won't let me.

2007-01-23T13:56:00.001Z

Two-Timing in Your Sixties....

Regular readers will be aware that by my own choice I have had no contact with my dad since 1991. I commented before Christmas here that I wouldn't like to see him being all lonely and on his own.

Well it turns out that I needn't have worried. He has been involved with another woman (a bleach blonde* in her forties) for some time now. We'll call her Flouzey II. He was away on holiday over Christmas with Flouzey II and appears to have recently moved in with her. The original Flouzey is apparently fuming and has declared that she will "take him to the cleaners" when it comes to her divorce settlement.

Middle sister saw them both from afar on Saturday thus confirming the rumours. We have heard parts of the story from various friends and acquaintances of my mother's. Strangely though people who are considered to be good friends of my father's have not heard about any of this from him directly.

What an embarrassment my father is. I'm actually glad that I am not associated with him. He is a man in his 60s, he faces financial ruin over his second divorce. He is currently the talk of the small village (and surrounding area) where I am originally from. Where will it end? Will he eventually be dating women the same age as his daughters?

* I am a chemically enhanced blonde myself.... however I am not dating someone else's husband.

2007-01-19T13:27:00.000Z

Teardrops....

I was out for lunch with Colleague K yesterday and we were reminiscing about the fact that his wife N and I cry at the drop of a hat. This was prompted by me noticing an elderly gentleman struggling to get his coat buttoned up in our lunch venue after having had a coffee on his tod. Now perhaps he would rather drink alone and perhaps he has a warm and welcoming family to take care of him back at home, but for that moment yesterday he was alone and this makes me sad.

N and I have in the past cried at episodes of ITVs "Where The Heart Is" (Sunday night sob fest).

This theme of conversation was continued on Scott Mills' Radio One show yesterday afternoon when a woman called in admitting to crying over the current Persil advertisement: the one when the teacher has asked the class what they want to be when they grow up and among all the normal expectations this cute little girl says that she wants to be a penguin. I have to admit that this makes me cry as well but only because it makes me think of my Baby Sister (who's 23) who when asked a similar question (aged 5) would have said that she wanted to be bunny rabbit.

I never used to be like this. In fact when I was younger (aside from my Oscar winning performance fake crying when I wanted my own way) I never cried over much unless it directly affected me or my family. The flood gates opened when aged 13 I watched the film Ghost. I cried for hours after watching that. I am not particularly embarrassed by the fact that this film made me cry but I should add that I was going though a period of personal trauma as my parents (messily) divorced.

There was an incident recently where my middle sister (MS) was recounting a story about one of her more socially inept colleague (we'll call him Colleague G). MS's work were having a night out at a local eatery where it is bring your own drink. Colleague G arrived into work on the appointed day with 2 bottles of wine (one red and one white). MS commented that he must be planning "some night out" and he replied saying that he had brought one of each because he wasn't sure what everyone would be drinking. Even typing this now I find that I am fighting the tears, because I am humbled by the innocence of his generosity.

I was going to tell Colleague K about this over lunch yesterday but found I couldn't actually tell the story because I was too afraid of crying in a public place.

Better go and drink some water otherwise I fear dehydration!!!

2007-01-12T13:01:00.000Z

Attack of the Clones....

Well someone has tried to clone the craic girl. You'll all be glad to know that they didn't successfully clone the blonde bobbed me personally. There isn't two of us running around. And no someone did not steal from this blog without asking (although do that and I will find you). They did in fact clone the details to my switch card (or maestro as it is called these days).

I was alerted this morning when a letter arrived to my work address from a well known catalogue company (WKCC) telling me that someone may be using my card fraudulently, however (the smart people at) WKCC realised that all was not well and cancelled the order and refunded my transaction. I had ordered a new bed from WKCC - way back when I got my flat - and they had my details on record. Not really sure about the work address aspect of it as the bed got delivered to my house, but no matter.

I then called my bank who stopped the card and indicated that the thief had attempted to extract a small fortune from my bank account including the following: £540 - electrical company (rejected), £800 - WKCC (to buy a flat screen TV - refunded), £200 - on new shoes (rejected), £5 - donation to charity and £10 - on cinema tickets. The person on the other end of the phone indicated that I should go to the bank personally and go through my statements.

I was thrown into a complete panic, imagining my bank account reading zero by the time I got to the bank. Luckily the fraud protection on my card did actually work in most cases and all the large transactions were refused largely due to me being a "Miss" and the fraudster being a "Mr". Another possible advantage to being a woman - for a change. Also in my favour was a transaction in a more remote part of Northern Ireland by me a mere half an hour before an attempted transaction in a shop in London. There is no way Easyjet could carry out a journey that quickly!

So I got to thinking.... How could this happen to me? I have rarely used this card since Christmas. All the transactions prior to last Friday (when all this kicked off) have been to huge organisations and I have always been in the presence of my card. I have not used this card for internet shopping in months and months. The only thing that I can think of is the restaurant that I visited last Friday night with S. My card did disappear for a while when I paid. Maybe it happened then?

I am generally very security conscious when it comes to my money. I tend to use credit cards for internet shopping. I only buy from what I consider to be reputable sources and for eBay I always use paypal. I have never thrown out a statement, anything with card details or even a receipt. Anything discarded gets burnt in the fire in my mum's house.

I feel violated in a way. I think how dare someone try to do this to me. Maybe they think that they are simply stealing from a large company but I was the one crying in the queue of the bank this morning terrified about what ifs..... I work really hard for the money I earn. I have been working two jobs for years to be able to afford my own house. I try really hard to be sensible with my finances. In total they got away with £16 worth of transactions which the bank assure me will be refunded onto my account but what price for my blood running cold this morning and sending my heart racing.

Enraging as it is that someone has been trying to buy a flat screen TV to twice the value of what I can afford and more money on new shoes than I spend in a year.... what makes me most cross though is that I've researched the charity that the other me has donated to and it's not something that I would even support or want my money to help. Grrrrrr....

So folks in blogland please watch those cards, don't let them out of your sight. Use protected secure sites and keep an eye on your accounts.

Update to the above post:

I have just remembered that I also gave my precious bank details (via the interenet) in order to arrange a subscription to my favourite magazine. This was two days before all the fun started on my account.

2007-01-10T13:35:00.000Z

Excuses, Excuses....

Hello folks....

Just a quick post to say that all is well with the craic girl, except there just aren't enough hours in the day. I've been writing some new posts (Christmas Part II, among other things) but none are complete yet. Reasons for not being in a position to post include:

Work has been hectic - but in a good way. This will continue until the end of the month. I've been working on lots of technical details for a project, things that don't come naturally to me so my brain is drained most lunchtimes.
I don't have a computer or internet access in the smallest apartment in the world. I may attempt to resolve this soon or I may take Dave's advice and buy the flat screen TV instead. I haven't decided yet?

I don't really believe in New Year's resolutions and since New Year is long gone here follows a small list of other things I may do this year:

Buy an iPod (other generic MP3 players are available). Mainly so I can listen to good tunes while running on the running machine (see number 2 below).
Secretly take up gym membership but not drone on and on about it, either on this blog or to friends. This is in light of the fact that I will be featuring in 3 sets of wedding photographs this year as bridesmaid.
Having just read a great post on Things by the fabulous Urban Chick I intend to de-clutter, stop being so precious over material stuff and actually throwing out/charity shopping (and yes that is a verb)/selling on eBay some things that I no longer need or use. In particular clothes.... I have an emotional attachment to pratically everything in my wardrobe.
Write more regularly on my blog because it makes me feel a lot better about a lot of things.

I hope to resume a more normal service shortly.

Oh and before I forget S and I are still seeing each other regularly. All is well on that front. As for the long lie-ins.... there have not been any. In fact there has not been any bed sharing to date. We're just taking things really slowly for the moment and I for one am happy with that.

2007-01-02T17:34:00.000Z

Christmas Part I....

First of all Happy New Year to one and all. I hope it brings everyone all that they wish for and makes you all happy or happier. I will be 30 this year so the spiralling is spiralling every faster and coming ever closer.

Now that I am back in the office I have the opportunity to use the internet. New house hasn't been rigged up yet and also dilemma aplenty about buying new laptop (to replace shite slow massive computer that has the memory of a goldfish) using Christmas bonus. I am torn between new laptop or new flat screen TV - nothing flash or huge - it would just make "the smallest apartment in the world" appear a bit bigger.

I think there is a lot of news to catch up on. So here goes....

Office Party - Friday 22 December 2006

The day of the office Christmas party finds me very excited indeed, on a bit of a high from the Snowpatrol concert the night before. I am wearing the perfect LBD over cropped dark blue jeans and black suede knee high boots. Hair and make-up proved not to be a complete disaster and I thought I looked quite well. That was until hundreds of the sequins from perfect LBD proceeded to fall off. This had happened on it's first outing (only the week before) however it was not in alarming quantities. There were literally handfuls everywhere I went.

Our dinner was in an out of the City quaint hotel, complete with thatched roof. My meal was lovely, unfortunately the same can't be said for colleagues who ordered the steak option. It could be construed that some of our party were slightly late (1.00 pm for 1.30 pm) although all were assembled for 1.30 pm. The grumbling waiter took it upon himself to order all the steaks to be cooked medium/well done without consulting anyone. Obviously this went down like a lead balloon with practically everyone.

A few of us left the quaint hotel to head back to the bright lights of the City and one of the oldest pubs there. We were sitting outside, close to a patio heater, listening to the campest two men and a guitar ever. I said that I was convinced they would know a Scissor Sisters number. The second song into their set was "I Don't Feel Like Dancing". Ironic or coincidence? They were very entertaining but eventually it got too cold to remain outside so we retreated to another old man type pub close by and found ourselves ensconced in the only booth which had it's own private access to the bar. Excellent. Several gins and bags of Tayto (local crisp producer, billed as "the taste of home") Cheese and Onion later and it was time to move onto another bar.

It was at this stage that I decided I was going to be bad and leave my colleagues to attend Gay Husband's work party close by. I didn't want to offend anyone so I mentioned that I was going to go home as I am old, drunk etc. Colleague Big S insisted that I get a lift home with him as he too was also heading across to the East of the City and it would be no trouble to drop me off at mine. I tried to explain that it was too much trouble but in the end, clutching recently purchased full gin and tonic (hidden under my coat to avoid the bouncers) I was driven home by Big S's kind brother directly to my door.

Once home I phoned a taxi, while drinking my gin and grabbed a bottle of wine. No less than 20 minutes later I was at party central, in my Gay Husband's office. They had got caterers in and a DJ and it was a great party - from what I can remember. Sadly other good friends of mine were there who were completely sober in comparison to me and who also had that knowing look on their faces. Knowing that I was rather drunk. Gay Husband works with a lot of people that I went to college with or have previously worked with but I am sure most of them have seen me in worse states of being, so it's all fine.

Gay Husband and I decided, in our infinite wisdom that it would obviously be a great idea to walk home from the North to the East of the City where we live. We could easily have got a taxi ordered to his office but no: a walk through decidedly dodgy parts of Belfast in 3 or 4 inch heels was obviously a splendid idea. I still have the blisters as proof.

On this interesting walk home I decided that I would call the new boy S. This was around 2 am in the morning, but he had mentioned that sometimes he finds it hard to sleep and can be awake at strange times of the night. This wasn't one of them. I woke him up. It took him three and a half hours to get back to sleep*. He graciously walked me home to my own house. He wasn't cross at all the next day. He wasn't taking the moral high ground given the fact that I had a raging hangover. I think he would have been well within his rights to be both cross and moralistic. He was neither. Instead he laughed and that is why I like him. Alot.

* And that had nowt to do with any extra-curricular activities as we haven't done that yet. It's really good getting to know someone without them jumping on you at every possible opportunity. It's only been a month today.

2006-12-22T09:50:00.000Z

Andrew's a Starfighter Pilot....

Just to say thank you to everyone who has provided comments and kind advice over the last few months. It has all been greatly appreciated. Happy Christmas (Festive Season) fellow bloggers, readers, commenters and lurkers and I'll see you in the New Year. Have a great holiday and I'll be back circa 2 January 2007!

On another note Snow Patrol concert last night was amazing. Their set included "Starfighter Pilot" which was their first ever single release and I can now die a happy woman having seen that played live in a stadium in Belfast. I was at the launch party for that single a long (long, long) time ago so it made my night to be dancing around like a crazy thing to a song that I know so well. I had commented to a friend only the night before that I would love them to play that but how it was completely unlikely that they would play it. How wrong I was!!

A similar thing happened last year when I went to see U2 in Dublin's Croke Park. I had also stated (prior to the gig) that there was no way that they would play my favourite song "Running to Stand Still" (from the "Joshua Tree album"), but again I was proved wrong and was actually crying as I sang along.

2006-12-21T17:12:00.000Z

We're Nearly There....

There are a number of reasons why I am feeling happy, contented and rather smug (if truth be told)....

Baby sister (who's 23, but still considered a baby) has arrived home from Engerland having managed to get one of the few flights actually leaving from Gatwick.
Nearly all the Christmas presents have been purchased, bar a few that will be bought tonight after I've been to the Snow Patrol gig (thank you 24 hour shop opening). Most presents have been wrapped and reside under the largest tree in the world in the smallest apartment in the world.
The guy I was supposed to go and chat to about private work last night cancelled due to him being ill. This couldn't have been better timed because I hadn't actually finished the work that I was due to discuss with him. This gave me some free time to do said shopping.
Driving into the City last night I got forced into the wrong lane (by huge amounts of traffic) only to find myself right beside a free car park space at the side of the road, only metres away from the shop I wanted to visit.
After all my moaning about "CTSS" yesterday I am now feeling a lot better. I've been keeping very late hours this week, so it was bound to catch up with me.
I had another lovely date with S last night involving a foreign language film (which I normally think are a bit pretentious but this was a great story:"Pan's Labyrinth"). And (not that I believe in starting sentences with "and") S made a mean cheesecake from scratch. Who says I can't be bought!!

2006-12-20T09:48:00.000Z

This Time of Year....

I feel sick. I can't sleep. I have terrible IBS. I can't eat. I fear I may lose my voice. I am feeling anxious.

Am I the first to suffer from pre-Christmas Traumatic Stress Syndrome (CTSS)?