Not Enough Hours In The Day

Hola Amigo's! Thing's have been pretty quiet around here of late. January was a complete whirlwind of turmoil for me and the month just flew by. I returned to my voluntary job after the Christmas break and all was well with the world. I loved that job. Loved the people. Loved the work. Loved the organisation. Love the public sector. But alas, my time there was up!

I was at home one day early January and I received an email completely out of the blue. It was from a HR guy in a company asking me if I would be interested in a position with the company. I was a bit dubious about the email as I hadn't applied for a job there and I was far too inexperienced to be head hunted. After a while I replied with an updated copy of my CV and I received a phone call from the HR Business Partner inviting me to interview the following day. I thought nothing of it as I have had several interview over the past few years and nothing has come of them.

Off I trotted to the interview and it all went very well. It felt very relaxed and more of an informal chat really. A week passed and I was called to a second interview. At that second interview I was offered the job. Sure I was delighted to have finally found a paying job. They agreed to pay the salary I had previously had in my old job.

So I left the public sector, rather upset by that fact, and joined the private sector. I now work for a construction company and it's going well so far. The working week is rather long and the hours aren't particularly nice but the experience will be good. And the public sector said they'll take me back when they are allowed to recruit again so woo for that.

Now I just have to live with the fear of going to work one morning and being told I have to go to one of the foreign sites for a few weeks. Eek. Would not be a fan of that now but what can ya do?

Unfortunately this new job means I now have less time on my hands as I am trying to squeeze in having a life after work as well as working a 39 hour week minimum. So the blog has had to suffer. Not that it was all that great to begin with! Ha! But I will try my best to keep it up dated. I promise.

In the mean time, please have a look at this blog post about St. Valentine. It's wonderfully written and you'll learn something you probably didn't know before.

Ring The Alarm and I'm Throwing Elbows

Howdy doodle folks? It's time for me to have a little whine, quelle surprise I hear you say! I promise it'll only be a short one.

I love my mobile phone. I couldn't live without it. But I'm not all that into keeping up with the latest trend and getting the latest snazzy phone every 6 months. My last phone lasted me for about 3/4 years till it finally gave up so I replaced it in August 2008. I don't really go looking for the best features in a phone, I just go on the one that I like the look of the most.

So I got a Nokia E51. Now it does way more than I thought it would. Like Microsoft Word and Excel are on it along with Adobe PDF. AND it has a WLAN. That has been the most deadliest thing ever.

Here comes the problem.

I use my phone as an alarm. As many people do. With all my previous phones, I just set the alarm the night before. It went off the following morning and I turned it off straight away. No problem. But lads. This new super duper phone is just too clever for it's own good. And it's been bugging me now for the past 1.5 years.

Picture this. I'm in my lovely, sexy boxers in my bedroom, (Calm yourselves now), and I have my phone in my hand setting my alarm for the morning. I punch in the time I want it to go off at and then I press ok. And then it happens. I get that sinking feeling. A real pang of sadness. It's not that I have to get up at say 7.30 in the morning. That's not the problem, oh no.

Ladies and gentlemen, the problem is that when I press ok on the phone a message pops up on the screen and it says "Time Left Until Alarm: 6 Hours and 31 Minutes". I instantly think to myself, "Oh no. Only 6 hours and 31 minutes of sleep. And then I have to take out 30 mins while I'm trying to go asleep and the few times I wake up during the night...so that'll leave me with about 5 hours of sleep".

Lads, it's just not fair. Why did they have to do that? Shame on you Nokia. Shame on you.

Of course I am just nit picking now cos I'm trying to justify buying an iPhone. I wonder what happens when you set the alarm on that?.........hmmmmm............

Snow, Snow, Go Away, Don't Come Again Another Day

Years ago when it snowed it seemed fantastic. It snowed out of the blue one day. It was gone the next day. We all got a day off school for it and life went on. Now, however, is a different story. We have had this cold, icey, snowy weather for near on 3/4 weeks. I think its high time that it fecked off to Florida for itself, or the like.

In my family we seem to have an awful fascination with "breaking a hip". It started two years ago when my grandmother broke her hip. Within six months my aunt had broken her hip. The recovery period for a broken hip can be anything up to twelve months. So having seen the slow and needing recovery of someone with a hip replacement, it's a wonder that none of us want to see another hip being broken within the family, or anyone's for that matter!

Now what do you think has been said most often over the past few weeks? "Mind you don't fall and break a hip." It probably started in November when the floods came. The roads and pathways were all slippy and covered under amounts of water. Getting in/out of the car, setting foot on a footpath, walking in/out of the house, basically anything that involved putting your foot on any surface was met with the words "Mind you don't fall and break a hip".

This phenomenon only got even more and more used over the Christmas period. Firstly it was cos of the ice. Then it was black ice. Then it was snow. And now it's slush.

I am only in my 20's and for some reason I am even petrified of breaking my hip. I have already had one or two falls in the past few weeks but nothing serious, thankfully. A friend text last week to ask me to go do something. I replied and said "Oh I'd be terrified I'd fall and break my hip" to which he replied "You can't break a hip, you're too young". This rather upset me.

So I set about explaining why I fear breaking my hip. You can only have two hip replacements in your lifetime. The life span of a replacement is twenty years. So that'd give me forty years of living with a replacement hip before my time is up. Should I break a hip now, I'd be after running out of replacements by the age of 65. Wouldn't that mean I'd be in a wheelchair from the age of retirement? Oh the fear. Of course, my friend just thinks I am a little crazy.

Then I met another friend last week for lunch. It was one of the worst day's of the week, ice wise. We were walking into the hotel bar and outside was a little ramp up the path. I said "There is no way that I am walking up that ramp. It looks skatey girl. One foot on that now and sure I'd end up on me arse with a broken hip, no doubt". This was met with howls of laughter. So I proceeded to walk on the gravel flower bed at the side of the path.

Inside the hotel my friend told me "You're too young to break a hip". I protested and told her the story of the replacement's and how my grandmother and aunt broke their hips to which my friend said, "Your granny is old so her bone's are brittle. Your aunt is menopausal so her bone's are weakened. You are neither of those". While they are all very valid points I am still having none of it. Accidents can happen and you never know what the outcome of a bad fall will be.

So, people, "Mind you don't fall and break a hip!!". I think I might get some t-shirts printed with those words on it....any buyers? Two for a fiver....

Me, Myself and The Birds

The Wednesday before Christmas was my first day of my Christmas holidays from work. I was sitting at home in the kitchen eating my lunch and looking out the window into the garden. It was so beautiful and so cold. It looked like it had been snowing but of course, as you know, the frost had been so severe that most of Ireland looked like it had been buried beneath a blanket of snow. The I noticed the birds where in the frozen grass and they desperately trying to dig down for worms and sure the ground was frozen solid. And then it happened. Bang came the pang of guilt.

I watched them for a while as they desperately tried to get something to eat so I eventually gave in and took some bread from the press, ripped it up and threw it on the path at the rear of the house. I then went off to the shop to get myself a hot chicken roll from the deli counter as I was just totally starved, just like the birds! I was only gone for five minutes and when I got back all the bread had been eaten and the smaller birds were now around looking for crumbs. Sure god love em like. I had done something but it wasn't enough.

I decided I'd go back down to the shop and buy one of them bird feeder things that you hang from the tree. It cost €2.40 or thereabouts. I then had to buy a bag of nuts for the birds which cost around €13! Now don't get me wrong, I wanted to feed the birds till they got over this frozen spell but €13 was a bit steep. Anyway I stumped up the cash and trotted home merrily in the knowledge that the poor lil birdies would now be fed till the ground softens so they can pick out the worms or whatever else they eat!

Well I filled up the bird feeder and hung it on the tree. Now it was dusk as I did this so it'd be the morning before they got a chance to taste the delights that awaited them on my tree. When I got up the following morning the tree was bursting with birds and they were munching uncontrollably through the nuts. I was going to shoo them away cos I didn't want them to get fat but then I thought to myself that maybe they were really hungry after the past few days so I let them to it.

I had to fill it up again the next day. And the next day. And the next. These birds were starting to annoy me. How greedy can they be? And it's not as if I even like them feathered things. I'm actually petrified of em. If one flew near me I would actually die. Like actually die! My heart races when they are on the footpath near me. But I'd hate to see them hungry and suffering. See aren't I just a softy?

Well lads, I got up yesterday morning and the bird feeder was lying flat on the ground and they were literally gobbing food into them. So out I went in my pyjamas and shooed em away and I went to put it back up on the tree. And wouldn't you know they had gone and broken it. Out with the glue and I glued it up and then I stuck it back up on the tree. Got up this morning and they had knocked it off again.

These birds are really testing my patience. See at first I thought that they'd be starving and could do with some lovely food to keep them alive. But oh no, they like need food, and lots of it, everyday. AND it's costing me a small fortune to keep them in food.

What started out as me being the good Samaritan is now going to result in me being a hard and cruel b*stard! Anyone see my shotgun? Joke.

Painting The Town Red

I went out last Sunday night. Why should I care I hear you ask. Well you see, for me to go out, takes an awful lot these days. Mostly because money is so bloomin' tight that I literally cannot afford to get in the mouldies in a pub or club. So I made myself look even sexier than I usually do and I headed into town to meet my friends. It was actually a pretty crap night. We went to a few different pubs and all that was there were middle aged men with beer guts. Like EVERYWHERE. Suppose we should have gone out on St. Stephens Night but we were all just exhausted and stuffed with food.

We ended up in a "gay friendly" bar. I have been there once or twice before and never really enjoyed it. But these days it's the place to go for all. There usually is more straight people there than gay's but what the hey off we went. The girls I was with ordered a bottle of presecco and we succeeded to down that between us all fairly rapidly. Just before I was finished mine I got a text from another friend asking me where I was as I hadn't seen him in ages and said we'd meet for a scoop that night.

I went to the bar and ordered another bottle of presecco and as I was waiting for the bar man to bring me the bottle my friend (who texted a few moments earlier) was standing beside me and chatting away. So we were having the well like. Chatting away goodo. So I said I better get back with the drink or I'd be murdered like and I'd bump into him later. And with that, I felt a hand on my ass. Now a hand on my ass is fine. I have no problem with it normally. BUT this hand was not placed on the outside of my jeans. Oh no. It was inside my jeans! So I was like squirming trying to get his hand out of my jeans and trying to not drop this bottle of presecco. He goes "Wha?" And he acting all innocent. So I said "Stop it now. You're embarrassing me". See it wasn't as if the bar was a dark and dingy one. Far from it. It was bright as daylight in there so all could see. Scarleh wasn't the word.

I went back to the table and told the gang about my being mauled at the bar. Sure they thought it was the funniest thing they had ever heard. The fuckers.

After a while, a fella came up to one of my friends and started talking to her. He was bending down to her so hadn't a clue who he was. I was fairly well oiled at this stage so I was kinda not noticing things as much as you do when your sober. After probably ten minutes I noticed a hand outstretched in front of my face......followed the hand up the arm, across the shoulder and to the face. Sure it was only my friends ex who we had first met in Dingle during the summer. Now talk about a hottie. We were mad about him then and I had a few suspicions but said nothing. So I got a big handshake and nobody else did. Then another friend procedded to put out her hand for an aul shake from the hot guy. Well what ensued after that was possibly the most mortifying thing that I have done whilst drunk in many years.

Myself and the other friend who got both our hands shaken by the hot ex of our other friend started to giggle and whisper about how he looked even hotter than he did in the summer and here he was in a gay bar. THEN my friend goes to me, "He touched me more when he shook my hand". To which I kinda shouted "He did not. He gave me a double handshake". This went on for the rest of the time that the hot guy was standing there talking to his ex and it also continued on for the rest of the night.

Now if this wasn't embarrassing enough, see he may have just thought we were on about something else, his ex went and told him what we were saying. Well if the ground didn't open up and swallow me it never would. Talk about morto.

On the upside, he just accepted my friend request on Facebook. Watch this space....

BTW I don't particulary like New Years time of year. I find it blasé and uber depressing so I tend to just ignore it but...Happy New Year folks! All the best for 2010!

Oh How We Laughed

I headed into town yesterday to finish off my Christmas shopping. And I got it all done successfully and now I have all my Christmas presents bought I can sit back and relax and enjoy the run up to Christmas. First year I have ever been organised so early!

Yesterday was an extremely funny day. I don't think I have laughed so much in an age.

There is a big pedestrianised area in the middle of town. There are shops surrounding the square and several different streets lead onto the square so it's always rather busy. There were a good few people about doing their Christmas shopping and quiet a few mothers with their children around the place too. I saw this little boy running along beside his mammy and he had a balloon tied around his wrist. I reckon he was only about two or three years old. He was punching the balloon with the hand it was tied too so it was bouncing back at him and he'd punch it again. This was not the funny part. He kept punching it and punching it and each time to balloon bounced back once it could go no further. Then he gave it a really big punch and lo and behold it burst. Now I even jumped with fright I got from the bang of it bursting. And the square is rather sparse so that made it even louder and the echo was fantastic. Well the child got such a fright he fell backwards and he screamed crying. This is when I started to laugh. His mother picked him up and carried on walking with the child screaming. And then he did something that made me laugh even more. He was looking at the ribbon tied around his wrist and the withered balloon hanging off the end of it. What did he do? He tried to punch it and sure god love em he hadn't a hope cos the balloon was just trailing along the ground. Oh the hilarity of it all.

Then I was in a department store and a lady, probably in her fifties I reckon, was about to climb the stairs. Well if she did, she missed her footing on the first step and went flying forward. Bags akimbo and her two hands outstretched to save herself she landed on all fours half way up the stairs. And you know it's the moments when you are not supposed to laugh that are the funniest. She looked like a toddler trying to negotiate a stairs for the first time coupled with shopping bags galore. How could you not laugh?

Then yesterday evening I was babysitting my niece for an hour or so. She is only 16 months so she is exploring everything at the moment and she had great fun running around the house and disrupting my Christmas decorations. I was getting her ready to go home and I put her coat on her and left her continue on her investigating. Then I had her teddy bear whom she cannot go asleep without - I didn't want her to forget it! So I decided I'd put the teddy bear into her hood for the few minutes before she was picked up. Well lads, the funniest thing happened. After a while she was turning around to gibberish at me and she saw the teddy in her hood. She plopped down onto the floor and immediately started turning around on her arse with her hand back over her shoulder trying to get the teddy. The exact same as a dog chasing it's tail. I nearly wet myself with the laughing. The more I laughed the more frustrated she got. I left her like that for about ten minutes. Just for pig iron.

Then last night I tuned into the final of The Apprentice on TV3. Now you all know what I am going to say about this one so I shall say no more except for this, Michelle Heaton. It nearly finished me off. Especially when you can hear her thump of the ground.

Oh how we laughed!

My Annus Horribilis

As the Queen of England once said in a speech, "1992 is not a year on which I shall look back with undiluted pleasure. In the words of one of my more sympathetic correspondents, it has turned out to be an Annus Horribilis." Yes, I too, have had an Annus Horribilis. 2009 has by far been the worst year of my life, in all my 25 years of living.

I have learned one very important trait about myself this past year. I discovered something that I never knew I had. And I am grateful for that discovery. This year has shown the amount of inner strength that I possess. It had been lying there dormant for many years and it finally reared it's head just when it was absolutely needed. Without this inner strength I fear what might have become of me.

Almost 12 months ago, the day before Christmas Eve in fact, I was in work and I was called into the managers office. I had been working on a maternity cover contract for the previous nine months and the lady who was on maternity leave decided not to come back to her job as the manager was making life way too difficult for her to be a mother and an employee. So I assumed I had the job for keeps. I was wrong. The meeting turned into a bit of an argument and before I went home that evening I cleaned out my desk and went out on sick certs for the remaining 3 weeks of my contract. I was better than that job. Best thing I ever did.

St. Stephens Day arrived and I got the most acute form of tonsillitis that ever existed. I was actually sick for about 6 weeks with it. Eugh. It really knocked me to the floor and zapped me of any energy or fight that I had left.

New Years Eve came. I usually hate New Years Eve. It's not a particular time of year that I enjoy. I couldn't care less if I was in bed asleep for midnight. I much prefer Christmas. Anyway, the phone rang about 10pm that night and it was news to say that my Great-Aunt had passed away at 93 years of age. I was particularly upset by this as she was very nice and very close to my mother and grand-mother.

Three weeks into January another phone call came. My grand-fathers last surviving sibling had died after a lengthy battle with cancer. Another funeral to go to.

After this, my grand-father himself started to deteriorate rapidly. A sufferer of Alzheimers for several years had taken it's toll on him. Meanwhile I was applying for every job I could find but to no avail. Money was tight. Social life had gone out the window. Everything seemed dark and dreary.

My grand-father eventually passed away the first week in May. A happy release we said. Still didn't make it any easier.

June came and my recently bereaved grand-mother called to say her dog had to be put down. You may say oh it's only a dog. It wasn't to her. He was company and a companion and an excuse to go out and talk to people. A little joy came in June with the birth of my cousins first baby.

I thought nothing else could go wrong. How much bad luck can one person have? My dad's job went in July. Ha. At this stage all you could do was laugh. It was either that or cry.

I got a brainwave in August. I decided that I couldn't take much more of this sitting around waiting for a job and more importantly I couldn't bare the thoughts of sitting in the house for the entire winter when it's cold and miserable. I needed to get out and do something.

I thought about doing voluntary work with a charity. But I'm not a very charitable person and then how would that benefit me in terms of gaining experience to get a job, eventually. And there it was. My brainwave. Why not approach companies and ask them to take me on, on a voluntary basis, in order to get some experience. I sent out one email to one place in particular. Went in for a meeting with the manager and I got 1.5 days a week work! Still not getting paid for it mind but I LOVE it.

When I look back now over the last 12 months, I wonder how on earth I kept going. The above events aren't all the bad things that happened throughout the year. There are loads more and I'd be here for the day if I were to list them all off.

Things are starting to look up about with the last month or two. Let's just hope that 2010 is a much better year for the entire population of Ireland. We can't have another one as bad as 2009 I reckon. One thing is for sure, things can't possibly get any worse. I hope.

For the first time in my life, I am looking forward to the New Year this year. I can't wait for it.

2009 is not a year on which I shall look back with undiluted pleasure. In the words of one of my more sympathetic correspondents, it has turned out to be an Annus Horribilis!