Sunday, 19 September 2010

I almost died once.

Standing on the edge of a cliff in Mallorca, it was windy and a little drizzly. We were looking at how the waves and sea had eroded the land. I was about two feet from the edge, with my back to the ocean. I took a tiny step backwards and lost my footing. I was on my way back over the edge when my pal grabbed my arm and pulled me towards him. If I'd fallen in, it was about 50 metres down and we were right above a wave cut platform. I'd have hit the cliff face with a huge force. When I realised what had almost happened, I felt giddy with exhileration, what had almost happened. The dolphins were released and I was shaking with fear and disbelief, extatic that I wasn't in the sea. Glad to feel the cool breeze on my face. Only the people who were right there, at that very moment knew it was a close shave. People thought I'd exaggerated the story for dramatic effect. I haven't.
Last Sunday, I faced something even scarier. I had signed up for the bigfoot, previous posts will give you an idea of how much of a struggle it would be. I was expecting pure hell, and I got it. The morning started badly. We were looking for a big museum, not a terrace and google maps took us all round Armagh so ended up a tiny bit late. Then the mega queue for the bathroom meant they started without us. After a few panicked moments we worked out where to go and saw yellow high viz vests up ahead. We walked through Armagh to Benburb, all I could think the whole time was 'the bear went over the mountain', a ridiculous song a guy called Tom Sweeney used to sing at school every xmas. We walked by lots of families who'd came outside for a nosy. One man offered fresh apples from his orchard, another family were singing! Then 2miles from Benburb we had a lovely lady offering to let us use her bathroom!
We had lunch and the second half was hard. Really hard. I had to keep stopping to stretch out my leg muscles. It was a pleasure pain thing- stopping was nice, but getting going again was so hard. I don't remember much of the second half, except seeing the sign for Moygashel, seeing the finishing point so, so far away on the horizion, having Stephen drive by every now and again checking on us, deep freezing my legs and running out of conversation with Laura. Seeing her mum at Dungannon Park helped her lots, she ran at one stage. Seeing her spirits lifted helped me. Walking into Dungannon was a pleasure/pain thing. I HATE Dungannon, I worked just outside it for a while, and it's a kip. A hilly kip. The finish line was at the very top of the town. It almost killed us getting there, but we made it. Sore, crying, wanting to die, hungry and tired but alive. We had walked 18 miles, defied the odds, Laura hadn't complained once even though she was so ill the week before, Laura had the biggest knee i've ever seen and both of us struggled to move our legs. I never did get the endolphins like I did on that cliff, I never felt that buzz of facing a challenge and kicking it's ass. Defying the odds and making it through. But I did discover a love for walking with Laura.
I owe huge thank you's to everyone who sponsored me, Stephen and Eugene, Rachel at Active Health (for without you I'd be unable to walk now, even if you did cause me extreme pain at the time!) and to everyone who tweeted while we were out. We read every tweet out, laughed at you all, and at some stages sighed in disbelief that your rubbish jokes Rob ;)
I also owe a mega thanks to Laura. Irrelevant of which one of us is to blame for the whole thing- I wouldn't have got through it without you. I wouldn't have even signed up. You're a wee legend but no to the Inca Trail...

Wednesday, 8 September 2010

This Week is a biggie.

This week is a big'un for wee Flops. First off, I've moved house. Stay in touch for your invite for the guided tour and the imminent housewarming. I've lived with big bro for 4years now and it was time to fly the coop!

Next is a mad week in work. I *think* I have two full days out of the office. I am really busy and don't have time to train but it has to be done so I'll suck it up!

This week is also the anniversary of my dads death. The emotions that surround it baffle me. 18 years is a long time, and I'm completely adapted. My momma did a friggin brill job of raising us and I don't miss him as such. I do have all the crazy feelings of anger and resentment but then the reality of how desperate he must have been comes back to me and I feel sorreh for him. One of my training days is mental health first aid and there will be sections on suicide which I'll struggle with but I need to know all I can about it to help understand him.

Finally, I'm walking 18miles for charidee. I'm petrified. Scared I won't finish, scared I'll hurt myself (more), scared I'll let Laura (and everyone who sponsored me) down. But I'm gonna give it everything. My charity is Aware and even if I didn't work for them, they would have got it.

18 miles doesn't seem that long when you say it quickly, but it is FAR! I struggle most with aches and pains. I hurt my knees when I was growing up- the groove my kneecap sits in isn't deep enough so my kneecaps are very mobile. It means the can slide out of the groove a little (not full dislocation, called Subluxing patellas- it's quicker and less painful than full dislocation and it pops back into place itself!) and it's given me gip for ages. I also have muscle imbalances in my left side. My knee turns inwards, there is a muscle that’s really tight and a muscle in my butt that's not strong enough, so all combined, when I walk around 9 miles I start to fatigue and muscles get inflamed as they rub over each other. The more tired I get, the more my pelvis drops making the pain worse. Trying to think 'I have to walk with great posture' is ok when you're not mentally or physically drained, it gets hard after a few hours. Another thing is talking to Laura for upwards of 5 hours. I'm a chatterbox and I'm a nightmare to shut up, but we've been walking now for 7 weeks, at least three times a week and for 2 hours at a time. We see each other a lot. Therefore we're running out of conversation. Who'd a thunk that talking is something I'd struggle with. When we don't talk, it's much harder. Every step is a challenge.

This week we taper. Two short walks of 2 miles. And carb loading. I love carbs, this makes me so happy! :D

Friday, 27 August 2010

More walkies

Training update-

I've managed pretty well this week, one 6 mile walk and a 7 mile one last night, all around the carriageway near Holywood. I was feeling amazing coming in from the 6 miles on Tuesday, all doubts had been lifted and we both felt great! Last night got a bit tougher. My hip was starting to hurt and the compeed just don't alleviate all the pain from Mega Blister. I'm going to try and get to a physio and have a gait analysis done before the walk, although I've only got two weeks and now is not the time to break in new shoes! Unless they're the fabulous velvet platforms from River Island!

This weekend is Lap the Lough, my buddy Lisa is doing it to raise money for Aware, so we're going to try and work our 12 mile weekend walk into the route for their 87 (!!!) mile cycle and try and get some pictures of Lisa! She's done so well, and you can sponsor her here- (just find Lisa Millar).

Until Sunday, i'm going to rest my feets and hip. Wish us luck!

Monday, 23 August 2010

Walk in the park

Sorry this is also off topic. Deal wiv it, alreet.

A few weeks ago, I started work with Aware. A few weeks later, somehow I said I'd do the Bigfoot walk. I still don't remember the conversation where my arm was twisted into doing it, clearly I was drugged and forced to sign up. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Anyone who knows me will know that I'm a lazysaurus. I walk. Around topshop, or to the kettle. Occasionally I have been known to walk to the shop. So why i'd sign up to do 18 miles is beyond me. To give you some context, 18 miles is Belfast to Lurgan, Coleraine to Ballycastle or in my case, it'll be Armagh to Dungannon.

I've been doing some training, the five milers are easy enough now, I finish feeling ok and last week I did eight miles, with only one stop for a brownie and some milk in St. Georges. Returning home with a tummy full of chocolate, I felt goooood. Exhausted and I spent the day asleep; but so good!

I did ten miles yesterday. I never thought I'd ever walk to Tesco Newtownbreda. But I did. And walked past it. And past Forestside. And into town. And home again. About two miles in, I started to feel it. I wasn't in a great frame of mind; like a plank, i'd managed to sleep in. I had breakkie and got myself sorted, but I wasn't rearing to go. So I struggled from the off. It's hard walking a route you usually drive, and know how far it is in a car. Combine that with the tell tale rubbing of shoes and a HUGE blister, made the first five miles hell. Over compensating for my sore foot (the co-op sticky plasters just weren't good enough) made my hips ache to the point where I was sure I was going to dislocate one. It's not natural to feel that much pain. I knew Laura was struggling too, we couldn't even talk to each other, except to shout profanitites which wasn't making it any easier for either of us.

The walk down the Ormeau road was easier, downhill and straight into a rest stop. We knew what was waiting for us. Still felt like a million miles. On the way home, I had to do a last minute detour down the Donegall Rd. I just felt I couldn't face the walk along the Lisburn Road to my house, knowing how far away we were. The detour added some distance but helped my santy. I'm no fittie, but it doesn't take it out of me too much physically to walk long distances- I do plenty of eating to make sure i've the energy for it. I've had problems with my knees for years and that makes it tough, the mental thing I didn't think I'd struggle so badly with and the general aches and pains when you walk so far just get worse and worse. I'm glad we're getting medical backup on Walk Day.

We made it home and I collapsed outside the house, unable to move. I took my shoes off and lay and cried for a while. The realisation that if it had been 'race day' I wouldn't have made it really knocked me for six. Knowing that i've already been sponsored lots is going to help me on the day. Laura is good- I don't want to let her down, but I really don't want to blog after the event and say I didn't make it. It's knowing I can't back out of it that really reminds me why i'm doing this. It's for the one in four who experience depression, and for the families of the people left behind after suicide, and to stop those people on the brink of suicide. Depression is implicated in 75% of all suicides, it really does kill people. In 2010, this shouldn't be happening.
Please sponsor me if you can. Everything helps me meet my target.

Tuesday, 13 July 2010


So I've passed my blogging anniversary, and guess what folks? I'm still single. I know it's a cliche, but I honestly couldn't be any less bothered. I have loads of other things to occupy myself, namely my first big persons, real life job, where I get my very own laptop, desk and lots and lots of changes I'm going to get to make. Nice an all as it is covering a maternity leave, I always felt like I had big shoes to fill and had to roll with the flow and not change anything. Now I can say that I want to do something, and suggest changes and because I am young and not taking over from someone, it all seems to go down a treat. Another lovely thing is our CEO. I've been so used to either having completely unapproachable bosses, where walking into their office feeling like you're entering the lions cage (and the lions are hungry and I have an open wound and they can smell the blood), or supervisors who think it's OK to quiz me about my sex life, or the people who I think are normal and could have a chat to, but everyone else in the office has them on a pedestal of unapproachableness that it's such a nice change to work in an environment where there is no hierarchy.
The other things that have been happening with me recently have been boring as ever. Going out and getting ridiculously drunk, shopping, drinking waaay too much coffee, thoroughly enjoying having the house to myself for a week, thinking about how to take over the world and sleeping far too much.
I also got my second tattoo recently. I don't believe in horoscopes, for the simple reason that they are cleverly written and open to interpretation. How can one short phrase be the same for one twelfth of the entire global population? Starsigns and name meanings are a different thing for me entirely. I'm a Pisces and I think the characteristics match my personality - 'The intuition of the Pisces-born is highly evolved. Many people associate Pisces with dreams and secrets, and it's a fair association, since those born under this sign feel comfortable in an illusory world'. Because of this, and the fact that I have a thing about dreams I wanted a tattoo about dreaming. I rarely dream when i'm asleep (or rarely remember them) but I do spend an awful lot of time daydreaming. It took a while, but I found a quote from Amelie, Les temps sont durs pour les reveurs that I fell in love with and struck a nerve with me. So I had it tattooed across my ribs. And it fucking hurt. A lot. But I would go and get it done again.

This is another ranty post about nothing, I keep saying 'oooh, i need to blog about that' but always forget what the post is about when I sit down with my lappy.

Friday, 28 May 2010

There's a package for you Miss Jugalot.

This is what Ollie (housemate) sent in a text to me today. First thought, was wtf is with Miss Jugalot. Second thought, what have I ordered? Has someone gifted me a Mulberry Alexa? Have I ordered something in my sleep with my buddies credit card? (Joys of sorting tickets for people means I often have several sets of card details*). Got home and found a rather large envelope with my full name written on the front in a child's handwriting. It could only mean one thing. The Ex.

I've briefly mentioned him on this blog. Twat number 4. Basically, we met in first year of Uni. We did the same course but he was repeating. We randomly bumped into each other several times throughout the years but it was only when I cut my hair off did he stop and pay attention. Within a few months, we had nicknames for each other, our own silly language, constant private jokes and all the other things couples do. About 8 months into the relationship, I went out with my BFF David. The boyf's pals were all out too, at the same place. David and I get on like dicks sometimes and this particular night, I was celebrating that I'd missed the deadline for my dissertation- silly to go and get drunk, I know, but I handed it in a week late. All good. (Anyone want to know about how the quality of river sediment changes as it flows through an urban environment- I'm yer gal.) So back to the night in question- basically the boyf's pals all thought I was gonna make out with Mitch. Much as I love him, that'd be a little too incestuous for me. But that didn't stop these pals of him telling ma boyf I was making out with another dude. In fact, one of these pals (a chick) of his then went to another of my friends and said I'd tried it on with her. Erm luv, if I was gonna go all lezzer, I'd pick a hawt bird, not someone who looks like Dobby the house Elf.
Dave (the boy) didn't mention anything, came to my house hammered a few nights later. Said he was ditching me coz I cheated on him. I said his friends were wanks and so was he for believing them and promptly chased him out of my house, like a woman possessed. Then I collapsed in a crying, wailing mess and scared the fuck out of Paul.
The ex eventually realised he was a dick and we got back together. All was peachy for another few months till he stopped calling round coz he was at the gym. Or with his pals. Or had to be home by 7 to see his mammy and have dinner (and if he was 5 mins late the world would end). Or he had a new CD to rip onto iTunes. Or he had to dust his skirting boards. So I'd only see him when I went to his house. Which never had any heating. You'd see your breath when you were in bed. Oh, but he was toasty, coz he was surgically attached to a sleeping bag. At all times. Including when we were eating dinner.
I eventually had a moment of clarity when he was buggering off skiing for xmas and not once told me he was gonna miss me. He wasn't even bothered that he wasn't going to see me the entire festive season (like from mid December to the 2nd week of January). He refused to spend NYE with me because I mentioned I *might* be going out for a while with David. So I kicked him to the kerb. Didn't hear anything until my birthday two months later. Cue crying phone call. 'I've been a dick, blah blah. Delayed reaction blah, miss you blah, do anything you want blah blah.' And here's me. Nah pal. You were a wile dick. Too late. Stop calling me. I'm trying to get drunk. Quit ruining my birthday celebrations with your whingeing.

Didn't hear from him again until today. When he sent me this. Closeup of letter page one and page two. I'm glad to get my Planet Earth dvd's back. Almost bought the box set again on many occasions. Jeff, I have a few copies of, but this is the disk from the special edition so it will be returned to it's rightful place asap. I wrote a letter back. I wish him well. He was a dick to me, but he will find some bird who's happy to be low on his list of priorities. Or he'll cut the apron strings and man up. Either way, the letter was funny.

Phew, long post. Sorry for the rant folks. Tried cutting sections of the story out but couldn't do it.

*Please don't try and rob me for the card deets.

Thursday, 29 April 2010

It's oh so quiet...

Apparently my blog has been to quiet of late. This is simply because I have nothing to tell. Nothing to see here folks, move along. My reason for blogging was originally peer pressure (wind/wind?!) but the little lightning bolt has struck today and writing is going to be a nice way to clear my head.

Past few weeks have been rather good. After Twestival, Laura and I kept in touch and there are other projects in the pipeline. (Just had deja vu- even to the point where I remember having to go check the spelling of deja vu- brain tumor? Let's hope not). My days have consisted of the occasional box office shift, where generally I leave feeling pretty damn rubbish (office politics when there are so many people coming and going are hard to keep track of) but it funds my nights out and occasional shoe shopping trips. I'm still living in hope that someone will buy me a Mulberry Alexa. 

I spend my days popping out for lunch, coffee, occasional trips to Vicky Square to drool over Alexa and looking for new jobs. If I was getting paid to be a bum- I would have found my dream job. My house has miraculously stayed tidier than I've seen it in a long time, there are always fresh flowers in the kitchen (purple freesia's this week), I come and go as I please, I've started working out again (if you can call 30 mins x-training working out) and I love it. 

There have even been a few boys since I last blogged. Don't get excited. I took my lovely pal Rebecca to Omagh for the weekend. We had planned to do it for my birthday but with both our grandparents passing away in the same week in Feb, her modelling (!!), me working and other nights out planned it took us until April to get it sorted. So we hit the road, in true Thelma and Louise style. Complete with huge sunnies, leather trousers and high heels and headed to Omagh (via Dungannon Tesco- most stressful Tesco i've ever been in).

Night out started well, met my bitches, Ross and David in a bar (both of whom are now completely smitten with Rebecca), had a drink and a natter. I was soon approached by a "gentleman" I went to school with who told me he added me on Facebook because of my boobs. Then after throwing his drunk self across the back of Rebecca's chair, he proceeded to tell me he had won something at a rugby match and asked if I would be so kind as to let him motorboat me (accompanied by an example of how he'd do it). I can honestly say, I have never left a bar so quickly in all my life. I ran for the hills and learnt a valuable lesson. Country boys are idiots. 

After the disaster in Bar 10, Rebecca was understandably freaked out. Until she was being chatted up by a guy in a club who told her that he liked to go sheep tipping. We then found the only hot boys in Omagh in the third place we went to- unfortunately they also turned out to be wanks and spent the whole night making eyes at us before pulling some skanks. Story of ma life. Lopsi see boy, boy see Lopsi, boy makes out with skank. Bad craic. Anyways, thats a bit of a rant about what to expect when you go out in Omagh. 

We made up for a rubbishy night by watching Pineapple Dance Studios and having our faith restored in men by Louie Spence then spending the day having big lolz driving round the KFC drivethru twice, basking in the sun by the river and having my car washed.

Ranty post done. Least there was some man drama in there for y'all.

Sunday, 28 March 2010

Awh shucks

So as you all know, last week was Twestival. Laura and I pulled it off and i'm so super proud of us! It came along at a weird time for me, the day I first heard about it was the day my granny died so my head was inside out and upside down so I didn't think about it. Then I found myself with no 'real' job so figured I had nothing to lose by helping with a bit of PR. Things flipped about again when I was given Lead. It scared me more than anything had scared me before. As I got to thinking about it, I realised how much work was involved in an area that I had no experience in whatsoever- I mean, i'm the girl who loves bands, band boys, music and i've even dated a few band boys. But soundchecks, equipment, load in, bookings...that was all completely new to me. The day I met Laura, I had a bit of a flap. Twestival was two weeks away and there was no venue. There were no bands. Right until then, there was just me. Trying to not freak out when I had to stay in mums house alone for a week, running errands, trying to have even half a social life - I spent my evenings on the sofa with Maisie, my cuddly cat (cuddly by nature rather than fat), twittering and blogging about twestival- at that stage I could never have even dreamt about pulling it all together.

When it came to it, there were a few twits who really dug me out of a hole. Laura was literally my right hand woman. We've both probably got RSI from tweeting and texting from mobiles- we spent so long together in Clements I can tell you she prefers her tea in a mug, with a splash of milk. I like a pot, with lots of milk. She's my brownie sharing, life saving queen.

Abi is also a legend. She's the regional co-ordinator for the UK. She got lots of whiney, confused, begging, desperate emails from me, at all times of the day. We did skype calls, pow wow's and she bent over backwards to help us get lots of tickets sold in advance. So thank you Abi!

Leah and Kata were assisted by Karen and Claire from Concern- they let us get on with our thing, checking when pizzas were being delivered, cupcake dramas while they sold raffle tickets and made sure no one snuck in! We had so many sponsors, I'm just gonna link you to the Twestival Blog . Everyone on their was so so helpful and i'm sure our prize winners will be excited at the prospect of their noms, CD's and movie tickets! Our official photographer on the night was the brilliant Nico. He shot some beautiful pics and made me look human (mega kudos to you there good sir- I always look whack in pictures!). Here is his blog with a write up about the night, and here is the link to the photos on his Flikr site.

I can't think of anything else to say, other than- I want a job that allows me to organise events. Or to meet more amazing people. I think if i'd been drinking on Thursday night, every single person in that bar would have got a hug and a kiss from me! I left on a high (in a red van with Joe and Dominic from Seven Summits - thats gonna be my claim to fame when I hear them on't radio ;) ). I've learnt alot from this.
First off- everything is possible. Even if no paying twits had turned up, we had everything else to hand. Seeing one of the guys from Seven Summits walk in with a bass drum I almost died from excitement and adrenaline overload. Then the rest of the band. Then ANOTHER band. And ANOTHER. And the wonderful Nico, the Leah, Kata, Claire, John and Lesley from Slide, Gavin- every time another person showed up I got more and more excited.
Second - The generosity of people shows no bounds. It's more difficult to raise money and support for a charity like Concern, in comparison to something that is more urgent, like the Haiti earthquake appeal but we're expecting our final total for Belfast to be in the region of £500-£600. Not half bad for a nights work.
Third - the Marshmallow Grove cupcakes are officially the way to my heart.
Fourth - A surprising number of foxy boys arrived at Slide. Note to self: make singles wear stickers.
Fifth - If it all goes tits up, i'm robbing a bank and setting up an Events company. I'll even do weddings. If I have to.
Sixth - RAMS' Pocket Radio, Seven Summits and Cutaways are amazing. And Shauna from Silhouette was brilliant. If I get my way, we'll all get a catch up and plan our next joint venture!

I think thats enough now. I'm rambling. Go look at the pics. And listen to the bands.

Sunday, 21 March 2010

Latest goings on!

I've been a bit of a bum recently. I'm yet to find a new full time job, so i'm being a waster and just working in the Odyssey a few days a week. To be honest, I bloody love it. I didn't ever have that 'i'm finished uni and i'm going to do mid week drinking sessions and not find a job until I absolutely have to' period so i'm doing it now. I fill my days with long showers, tidying, laundry, This Morning and lots of tea.

I'm also one of the lead organisers for Twestival in Belfast. Basically, it's a charity event to raise money for Concern Worldwide. The cool thing about Twestival is that it's happening globally on March 25th- I just had a conference call with a few other organisers and it's so much more fun having a few people doing the same thing! It's also given me something to do on the days when telly's a bit rubbish!

I heard about Twestival last year when it was happening but wrote it off as a geeky thing. Now that i'm actually organising it, I've seen how non-geeky it is. We've got a few awesome bands lined up, a DJ who sounds like he's gonna be my new BFF (the promise of indie music combined with hip hop is something i'm digging) and a raffle full of prizes i'm actually gutted to have to give away!

It's only a fiver entry, for a night's craic and some board games (how fricking awesome- i'm gonna have a game of guess who and a magners to start the night in style) and it's not just twitter people who are invited!

For more info, and to buy your tickets go to

Wednesday, 17 March 2010

What is wrong with them?

I've always said that all boys are idiots, some more than others. In recent weeks, with John Terry, Tiger Woods, Ashley Cole, Howard Donald and the love of my life Mark Owen all fessing up to affairs, my opinions of these boyos has changed. Terry and Tiger- fair enough. I've always thought you pair were ballbags. Ashely, erm, you're married to perhaps the most stunning woman and you cheat on her? You're mental and need psychiatric help, or your eyes testing. Howard, you're such a scamp. But you were my least favourite one in Take That.

Mark though. (Lets note that I am crying real tears at this minute in time). I thought Mark was a lovely boy and if he was going to run away from his lovely wife, it'd to be with me. I can't look at him right now (we just had to turn the DVD off).

But it has taught me a few things. First off, I was right. They are all idiots. Second, it's popped my bubble that I need to date a nice boy. Fuck that. Bring me the bad ones. What's the point in women putting so much effort into finding boys who are nice when even the nice ones fuck a whole host of other birds? Mark's only saving grace is that he stopped banging round him when he got wed.

Sunday, 7 March 2010

Happy birthday to me!

I've just noticed that I've started at least three posts now with a greeting of some sort. Wonder what that says about me? Speaking of which, mum picked up a keyring with my name on when she was in Tenerife (you have no idea how hard it is to get things with Lorraine written on them- I really appreciate it when someone finds them for me!). It says 'a name taken from the French region. She is thoughtful, business-like and unpretentious. A straight forward lady; you know where you stand with her'. Today I picked up a copy of the Sunday Times. I like the supplements, so 120 pages of Style goodness sold it to me. And I found this inside- 'Blonde moment', An article written by AA Gill. 'All the associations for blonde were good. Who doesn't like a blonde? The Blonde was fun, liked to eat out, wore high heels and had a dirty laugh. She is witty and intense, quick to take offence and quick to make up. Blondes have opinions, swear and get jokes.' (This is possibly the most random tangent I could have gone on, and it has nothing at all to do with what I originally planned to blog about). Basically, I think at the minute, I'm definitely a blonde. Everyone has a different opinion on my hair colour. Right now, it's the closest it's been to it's natural colour in ages (there is no blonde at the back anymore) but what AA Gill says makes sense to me. I feel like a blonde. I like being blonde. I don't dye my hair to fit in, or be liked, or because of any social connotations that people may attribute with blonde hair. Some of the things he says, like the keyring just suit me. I read it, and I nodded. So, for the minute, I'm staying blonde. We really do have more fun.

So back to my original blog post-
birthday thinkings.
I had such a nice birthday. I didn't do anything. I went for lunch with my mum, I was woken up by my nephew, I sat on the sofa and watched rubbish telly and I eat cake. Of course there was some mayhem too- it wouldn't be a Lopsi birthday if I didn't go out. So the fabulous Rebecca, lovely Lynne and cute little Laura and I hit up Madison's. The ever lovely Dave made us birthday cocktails, which went down a treat! We sailed off on vodka cloud to Sketchy, where we danced and drank the night away (helped of course by birthday drinks from Rigsy - I cursed him something shocking the next day). Anyway, everything was great. Such a fun birthday night, even if I did spend the whole next day dying an absolute death!

Saturday night was Hockey in the S&A with David. After dragging him round town because I was stubborn (and a little unwilling to rush while getting ready) we didn't make reservations but ended up getting squeezed into AM:PM which happens to be one of my favourite restaurants! We headed to Hockey, my feet killing me after all the walking, where I had such an amazing time. The band were phenomenal. I absolutely loved every minute of it. Even David didn't mind going. We finished the night as drunken messes in the Limelight, where I stole a poster off the wall and danced with the band!

All in all, 23 kicked off in style. Nothing awful has happened yet, nothing I would even consider changing, several things I'd do all over again if I was lucky enough to get a second chance.

Sunday, 14 February 2010

Happy V-Day

Well, it's my second single V Day. Last year I called it Single Losers Day. This year, I haven't had much time to think about it. It's a 'holiday' I disagree with- and not just because I'm single. If I'm with a bloke, I don't want to guilt him into roses for V Day. I'd far rather have tulips (or any other flowers I actually like) on any other day of the year. As for the cards- I HATE how Clinton Cards reduce their usually good range of cards to make room for all the mush. I'm a fan of cards. I like buying them, and pride myself on finding the perfect one pretty quickly and I like to buy them for no reason rather than this whole guilt thing. This past week has been a nightmare and our house is full of cards, none of them covered in hearts or mush.

2010 so far has treated my wee family pretty badly, it's shown me better sides to some people but I wish I didn't have to see it. Already we've had two birthdays, one death in my immediate family, another in a close friend's family, a house move, a huge fundraising success, two of us looking for new jobs and in the next two weeks there are three more birthdays. It's a busy time in the Anthony house.

I had written a post on my mobile one morning a few days ago but didn't post it, mainly because it was unfinished but I'm going to keep it, just for me. My wee granny got a namecheck in a blog over xmas, she was such a great lady and she passed away on February 8th. She always had a cheeky grin for us, and saying something silly would remind her of a rhyme she learnt as a child, so I'm going to try and post them here when I remember them ( I know that if I attempt to write them on paper they'll get lost). Katie also constantly asked me if I had a man, it was her who provided the inspiration for the name of my blog- she told me I'd never find a man if I still have cats. I know if I told her about the blog, apart from being confused about what it is, she would have found it hilarious that I let everyone know I'm single by writing about it on the internet. She would also tell me i'm better off not getting married until i'm 30 and i'm too young to worry about being single. Well Kate, you're right. I am too young and i'm definitely not worried.

Saturday, 6 February 2010

More off topic.

So the longer this blog goes on, it appears to have lost it's initial topic of boy hunting. Yes, i'm still going out and getting horrifically drunk, but not as often and I'm not so preoccupied by being single. I've said it before and i'll say it again- i'm very content the way I am now!

So the past few weeks have been hectic to say the least. First off was the job situation. I'm a writer for a magazine and was told a few months ago they needed me until April. Fine, only a temporary job and it gives me lots of time to find something new, in the meantime i'll sit tight and give my other job lots of availablility to soften the financial blow. But last week, I was told that I was only needed until the end of February which has basically left me job hunting like a maniac to try and get something sorted before I turn into Skinty McSkint :( (right before my birthday too...bad times).

In the middle of all of this, some mentalist (@lisam75) decided that a charity race to raise money for Haiti would be a good idea. Her and @austinslide (also mental) knew from my profile on twitter that I do PR so asked me to do a wee press release- nothing major I figured. Until it spiralled out of control - in the best imaginable way.

We were all throwing ideas about, what we could do, where we'll do it, how the press will work for us- the usual things you have to work out when you're arranging something like this. We had our first meeting in McDonalds in Glengormley (the most terrifying place in the world) and I met Austin for the first time. I remember sitting at Austin's house with a cuppa, with Lisa's gorgeous kids playing with Zane's cars, thinking - oh my god- they have done so much already - this pair have figured out everything.

The reality started to dawn on me when I called a t-shirt printing company and they laughed when I said I needed the t-shirts in a week. The guy thought I was mental trying to sort everything at the last minute, but it wasn't the last minute, we'd just given ourselves two weeks to do it all!

My days were filled with emails, my blackberry was never more used in it's life (I really don't know where i'd be without it), my nights with twitter, more emails and lists and lists of things to do. It seemed like once something got sorted, we had a new brainwave that took more and more planning but somehow we managed to stay on top.

Race day rolled around, complete with the terror of Gerard McCarthy (Kris from 'Ollyoaks) having his flight delayed and Dame Mary Peters disappearing like a theif in the night every two minutes. We ran out of numbers, we were mauled for t-shirts, we had so much cash the box wouldn't close but once those people had ran past me, and I joined @Chunkybum3, @lynniebean27, @ladybolan, Chris, Alfie and Donna to walk a little bit, the relief and feeling of weightlessness was incredible.

We had over 500 runners, walkers and dogs in Ormeau Park and we raised around £7000. We had celebrities, buns, water, t-shirts, bikes, kids, red bull and lots and lots of tweeple. Most importantly, we helped so many people in Haiti.

Sunday 31st January was such an incredible day (cheese to the max- I know), and I'm so grateful I got to work with Austin and Lisa. You guys literally thought of everything- it was amazing, I'm in complete awe of you both! I can't wait to work with you both again soon!

Friday, 22 January 2010

I know it's not about finding a boy...

...but i'm more content being single now than I have in a long time. I don't know what's changed, I guess I feel that I need to be at home much more often which isn't leaving much time for anything but I like how things are now. Able to get into bed and chill with Lynne watching telly, listening to music when i'm in Belfast, not having anything to worry about and for some reason I'm not even looking for any hugs or snuggles!

Anyway, the main reason I decided to post tonight was to tell ya'll (probably the four people who read my blog coz they follow me on twitter) that i'm helping to organise a fun run in Belfast to raise money for the Haiti earthquake fund. ( for more info please folks...) but recently I had been thinking 'shit man, I shouldn't have done that masters, I don't know if PR is for me, i'll be rubbish at it, I'll never get a job etc etc'. My job is fine- there isn't anything I find taxing, it's not too boring, it's an alright atmosphere to work in and I get a nice feeling of satisfaction when I see the magazine in a shop but it isn't what I want to do.

When I started working with Austin and Lisa to organise the race and get us lots of press coverage, it made me realise that it is something I can do, and more importantly, something I enjoy doing. If it turns out to be just the charity side of it, then happy days, but whatever I end up doing, as long as I get the opportunity to do a little event management and I'm working for a brand that I like and believe in, I'll be happy.

Tuesday, 5 January 2010

My rundown of 2010 was deleted.

Last night, I lay in bed (with the electric blanket on because my feet were freezing) watching it snow i decided to join in with everyone else who did end of year posts. I typed out a huge blogpost but because my pooter battery was dead, I did it as an email on my phone so I could just send it to myself and put it here (yes, there probably is a way of blogging from my berry but I don't care- I like my way) but when I sent it, mere moments ago, it delivered to the Berry and stupidly hit Delete on device and mailbox, like I do with all my spam. I did do a search but can't find ...
...Christ on a bike. There it is. I found it. Magic. Well folks, I'll leave you with the original post. (ps I really did think it was gone, that wasn't for dramatic effect or anything!)

I don't really believe in new year. Yes, it is a new year so therefore I've contradicted myself already. I should say I don't believe the hype surrounding a new year. Anyway, basically I don't think nye changes anything, 12midnight on 31st december is a miserable time for me. I don't know why. Maybe I'm mourning another xmas over for a whole year or I'm so pessimistic that I can't see anything spectacular happening in the impending 12 months. Just before the highlights of 2009, a not so good part was my poor wee granny spending xmas in hospital- meant xmas in the Anthony household wasn't much fun. The only reason I mention this is because not only am I gutted Katie is so ill, and has been for a full month now and most of the people I know realise how close we all are to our granny and how rubbish xmas and NYE was in our house but a few people have really upset me with a blatent refusal to give a shit. It would have been nice to show a tiny bit of concern. And it would have been lovely to have some compassion. Yes your xmas was lovely but mine wasn't. Don't rub it in.

That said, I wanted to do my highlights of 2009. My birthday in the Stiff Kitten bar on the Saturday (followed by Soapbox on the Monday) was a stand out good night! Was great fun. My holiday was also great, as was the introduction of lopsi to the world through twitter (and when Phillip schofield tweeted at me!) and meeting the tweeple irl was good too! I got to know Danny and Aaron (both mental and from London- purely internet relationship except when Danny and I get drunk and feel the need to talk). Anyway, since mid december we've had lots of snow. I love snow. Its snowing again. And it makes me happy. I've a fur coat and its so toasty the snow can't touch me! I also went to Manchester which was fun! And I had a good ole heart to heart with an ex (I was sober for a change) so we have to wait and see what happens there. Least this time I made some sense. Poor guy's been hearing it from drunk lopsi for years! Maybe we'll give it another shot, maybe not. Time and fate will tell. Either way, I'm happy. He's a great guy.

2009 was the year of great music, movies and nights out. Gemma and I in the limelight on a Friday is a stand out night! As were the nights recruiting for a dating show with niki. And Halloween when I was bondage barbie and not one person wanted to play was good (but too short). I made mistakes and bad choices but I dealt with it (so did everyone else), I drank too much and puked in work, I flirted ridiculously with a colleague, I met an ice hockey player and so totally would and not even coz he's a hero for giants fans, I was sick on one work night out, was hungover on the other, I got my blackberry and joined the yuppie world, I caught snowflakes in my mouth, I got obsessed with space, I made curtains, I wrote about weddings for a magazine and it was printed, I found my new fav foundation (smashbox), I wrote all this on my blackberry as an email, I laughed, I cried (lots and for silly reasons), I danced and I had a ball. Roll on the next twelve months. Whatever life throws at me, I'm fairly confident I'll knock it outta the ballpark coz I'm tuff as nails, innit. Well, after a mini meltdown maybe I'll start knocking it out of the ballpark. Now I'm missing celeb big bro and I need towels from dryer.
Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

Over and out.