It’s all been a bit quiet here in Lemonade Land, has it not? In case anyone was wondering, this is partly because I’ve gone and gotten myself a JOB. Imagine that! As soon as I did get it however, I promptly took two days off to go swanning around London with the Bear for an extra long long weekend, as you do. I got a brilliant picture of a squirrel, ate my body weight in Krispy Kreme doughnuts and had pistachio shells thrown at me by a rival table because our team were slightly cheating at a pub quiz. Douchebags. Also I got stung by Ryanair for €35 on the way over because my suitcase was an inch too big to fit into their poxy hand luggage frame. But more of that later. For now, it’s procrastination time in work already, and I’m googling Rocky Horror outfits in preparation for the Halloween show in Das Sugar Club tomorrow night.
Oh it’s on.
Showing posts with label Holiers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Holiers. Show all posts
Friday, October 30, 2009
Monday, September 21, 2009
Return Of The Cat
Le grande sigh.
So I'm back from France and back to real life, which of late unfortunately consists of not being sure what day of the week it is, apart from Wednesday Day which means it's off to the Post Office to collect my magnificent sum of 204 euro and something cents for another seven days, lamenting the disappearance of Murder She Wrote from RTE One's daily listings as poor old intrepid Jess has been elbowed out of the way by the Afternoon Show harpies and looking up the job listings on Creative Ireland.
Why Jessica, why?
It was a great old week though, with an insane amount of cheese eaten by all. The wedding was all relaxed and lovely, the priest looked like Steven Spielberg, I (embarrassingly) started crying after my first ever slow dance, The Dress was admired by many and my bag (which was also charity shop-bought, get me!) was LOVED by the assorted aunties. There was also a ridiculous amount of drinking done, an 8k kayaking trip down the river Dronne which I miraculously survived, REALLY cute pigs on the farm our little house was on, the invention of Extreme Ball (you need a swimming pool, a ball and no qualms about dunking people underwater should they be in your way) and many many games of Villagers vs Mafia (if you know this game, you'll know it's difficult to explain but frighteningly good fun to play - we had played it for four hours straight one night without even realising).
I still have to unpack though. I hate unpacking. Maybe first I'll send this tshirt to Montrose marked for the attention of Seoige Junior and Sheana Keane.
That'll show them.
So I'm back from France and back to real life, which of late unfortunately consists of not being sure what day of the week it is, apart from Wednesday Day which means it's off to the Post Office to collect my magnificent sum of 204 euro and something cents for another seven days, lamenting the disappearance of Murder She Wrote from RTE One's daily listings as poor old intrepid Jess has been elbowed out of the way by the Afternoon Show harpies and looking up the job listings on Creative Ireland.
Why Jessica, why?It was a great old week though, with an insane amount of cheese eaten by all. The wedding was all relaxed and lovely, the priest looked like Steven Spielberg, I (embarrassingly) started crying after my first ever slow dance, The Dress was admired by many and my bag (which was also charity shop-bought, get me!) was LOVED by the assorted aunties. There was also a ridiculous amount of drinking done, an 8k kayaking trip down the river Dronne which I miraculously survived, REALLY cute pigs on the farm our little house was on, the invention of Extreme Ball (you need a swimming pool, a ball and no qualms about dunking people underwater should they be in your way) and many many games of Villagers vs Mafia (if you know this game, you'll know it's difficult to explain but frighteningly good fun to play - we had played it for four hours straight one night without even realising).
I still have to unpack though. I hate unpacking. Maybe first I'll send this tshirt to Montrose marked for the attention of Seoige Junior and Sheana Keane.
That'll show them.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Gîte Alors!
I'm off to France tomorrow with the Bear for a week and not a thing packed as yet. All I know for certain thus far is that The Dress is coming (along with the underskirt that SuperMam kindly fashioned for me with her trusty sewing machine. Hooray!). We're heading to his friends wedding in Montagrier, which is two hours from Bordeaux, about three from La Rochelle and approximately in the middle of nowhere. If one was to Google the area, you would get this:
Hilltop village? Nice! Old church? Charmant! Fantastic viewpoints? Lovely! A bar/restaurant? Just the one then...?
"Yeah we'll meet you in the bar around nine so."
"Which bar?"
"What do you mean which bar? There's only the one sure!"
Brilliant! Even I won't get lost in this place!
Right?
Hilltop village? Nice! Old church? Charmant! Fantastic viewpoints? Lovely! A bar/restaurant? Just the one then...?
"Yeah we'll meet you in the bar around nine so."
"Which bar?"
"What do you mean which bar? There's only the one sure!"
Brilliant! Even I won't get lost in this place!
Right?
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
Spain In (As Small) A Nutshell (As I Can Manage)
Apart from the English classes and evening activities with the kids, there were shenanigans aplenty for us teachers this year in Summer School. Such as...
Midlands Man who spoke at 100mph having to go to hospital with appendicitis in the second week, which subsequently led to a game of Pin the Appendix on MM one night.
Dizzy Redhead getting in a fight with a local skanger for kicking the window of her car and getting punched in the face for her trouble.
Grouchy Dude swearing like a sailor and scandalising the other girl teachers with his liberal use of the word cunt. He also got his cock out one night while wearing a dress (there were two priests and a monk in the room at the time, but like me, I think they only saw his arse) and lacerated his eyeball on the second last night with a piece of straw from a sombrero eating incident. He spent the next three days mostly blinded and with a bandage over his eye. I probably shouldn't have told some of his students that his eye had to be popped out and now he keeps it in his pocket, especially since little Jaime with his blue glasses looked like he was going to cry after I told him. Oops.
The Girls playing Wii Bowling against the priests and monitors outside when the kids had gone to bed, but all GIANT ON A BIG SCREEN! Amazing! And we won too!
Loopy Limerick Lass scoring three different fellas out one night, and getting a mortifying surprise during a crisp factory tour we had one Wednesday with the kids when she ran into one of them there, as that's where he in fact worked.
Me drinking so much of this deadly Spanish rum one night that the barman gave me a free one and I sang Love Shack all by myself for everyone when we got back to the school.
Everyone drinking so much of the aforementioned rum, €4 supermarket vodka, cheap wine, lethally strong but exceptionally tasty punch and one night in particular, an actual BUCKET of Mojitos (which I made sure I was sitting next to) that there were plenty of hangovers such as this one:
Oh and on our last night, most of us had gone to bed by 12.30 seeing as the night before had been a session that lasted till 6 in the morning, 7 for some. However the priests and a few of the monitors had other ideas, in that they arrived up to our rooms at 1.30 to bang on our doors to get us up to drink with them. They also stole everyone's left shoe at one point, played Suck & Blow with us, threw the Limerick Lass into the pool one night, tried to throw me in the following night and insisted on teaching us a Spanish song at 2.00 one morning when we were all exhausted and just wanted to go to bed. But they wouldn't let us.
Yeah, priests and a monk played Suck & Blow with us. Hilarious and downright weird.
Espcially since I was standing next to the monk.
Midlands Man who spoke at 100mph having to go to hospital with appendicitis in the second week, which subsequently led to a game of Pin the Appendix on MM one night.
Dizzy Redhead getting in a fight with a local skanger for kicking the window of her car and getting punched in the face for her trouble.
Grouchy Dude swearing like a sailor and scandalising the other girl teachers with his liberal use of the word cunt. He also got his cock out one night while wearing a dress (there were two priests and a monk in the room at the time, but like me, I think they only saw his arse) and lacerated his eyeball on the second last night with a piece of straw from a sombrero eating incident. He spent the next three days mostly blinded and with a bandage over his eye. I probably shouldn't have told some of his students that his eye had to be popped out and now he keeps it in his pocket, especially since little Jaime with his blue glasses looked like he was going to cry after I told him. Oops.
The Girls playing Wii Bowling against the priests and monitors outside when the kids had gone to bed, but all GIANT ON A BIG SCREEN! Amazing! And we won too!
Loopy Limerick Lass scoring three different fellas out one night, and getting a mortifying surprise during a crisp factory tour we had one Wednesday with the kids when she ran into one of them there, as that's where he in fact worked.
Me drinking so much of this deadly Spanish rum one night that the barman gave me a free one and I sang Love Shack all by myself for everyone when we got back to the school.
Everyone drinking so much of the aforementioned rum, €4 supermarket vodka, cheap wine, lethally strong but exceptionally tasty punch and one night in particular, an actual BUCKET of Mojitos (which I made sure I was sitting next to) that there were plenty of hangovers such as this one:
Oh and on our last night, most of us had gone to bed by 12.30 seeing as the night before had been a session that lasted till 6 in the morning, 7 for some. However the priests and a few of the monitors had other ideas, in that they arrived up to our rooms at 1.30 to bang on our doors to get us up to drink with them. They also stole everyone's left shoe at one point, played Suck & Blow with us, threw the Limerick Lass into the pool one night, tried to throw me in the following night and insisted on teaching us a Spanish song at 2.00 one morning when we were all exhausted and just wanted to go to bed. But they wouldn't let us.
Yeah, priests and a monk played Suck & Blow with us. Hilarious and downright weird.
Espcially since I was standing next to the monk.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Tan Lines O'Clock
Well I've been back since Sunday night, but what with all the sleeping and unpacking and um...catching up with the Bear and sleeping some more, I'm only getting around to my poor neglected half of the blog now. I'm sorry little blog, don't look at me like that, here have a Jaffa Cake...better now?
So the month that was Summer School was truly one of scandal, scoring, cross dressing, cheese factories, sombrero eating, rum drinking and the odd hospital visit thrown in too for the craic. But more of that later. For the moment you'll just have to be happy with these pictures of me very nearly getting thrown into the swimming pool by a priest, a monk and the school doctor's nephew. Cheeky bastards.
The only reason I didn't end up with my new spotty gúna soaked in chlorine was because they had forgotten the key for the gate into the pool. Even then I was lucky though, since they've been known to pitch previous victims over the railings and then into the water, so all in all a broken button on my dress wasn't too bad an outcome I guess.
So the month that was Summer School was truly one of scandal, scoring, cross dressing, cheese factories, sombrero eating, rum drinking and the odd hospital visit thrown in too for the craic. But more of that later. For the moment you'll just have to be happy with these pictures of me very nearly getting thrown into the swimming pool by a priest, a monk and the school doctor's nephew. Cheeky bastards.
The only reason I didn't end up with my new spotty gúna soaked in chlorine was because they had forgotten the key for the gate into the pool. Even then I was lucky though, since they've been known to pitch previous victims over the railings and then into the water, so all in all a broken button on my dress wasn't too bad an outcome I guess.
Saturday, July 04, 2009
Scorchio!
Well look who came crawling back, tis I! Week One is almost down in the Summer School Big Brother house, and seeing as I unintentionally slept in today and missed the excursion to a nearby city due to unforseen circumstances involving a bottle of four euro vodka and falling to bed at 5.30, still convinced I´d be up in time for the bus, I actually have time to bagsie the ancient computer and blog a little!
Things I´ve Been Up To This Week
Having the craic with the Londoner, a 6´4" combination of Frank Spencer, Lurch and Pat Kenny, who will be 50 in August and speaks Spanish with an English accent.
Getting hammered and showing off my innie/outie bellybutton trick. Twice.
Ordering a heap of chickpeas to make hummus with the kids in Cuisine class, only to find we´d been given twelve tins of peas instead. And rice.
Missing the Bear like a mad yoke altogether.
Getting my heart broken by 11 year old Javier who has spent the week in tears because he wants to go home and his parents aren´t coming to see him on Sunday like the other kids. Bastards.
Watching Monsters Inc en Espanol and discovering that Spanish for Kitty is in fact Gatita.
Getting a sunburned arse out by the pool while correcting exams. It´d better be gone by the time our day trip to the water park next Wednesday rolls around, otherwise it´ll certainly make slides rather painful.
Trying to come up with a collective noun for cunts. We got as far as a delegation of cunts or an Ard Fheis of cunts.
Suggestions welcome.
Things I´ve Been Up To This Week
Having the craic with the Londoner, a 6´4" combination of Frank Spencer, Lurch and Pat Kenny, who will be 50 in August and speaks Spanish with an English accent.
Getting hammered and showing off my innie/outie bellybutton trick. Twice.
Ordering a heap of chickpeas to make hummus with the kids in Cuisine class, only to find we´d been given twelve tins of peas instead. And rice.
Missing the Bear like a mad yoke altogether.
Getting my heart broken by 11 year old Javier who has spent the week in tears because he wants to go home and his parents aren´t coming to see him on Sunday like the other kids. Bastards.
Watching Monsters Inc en Espanol and discovering that Spanish for Kitty is in fact Gatita.
Getting a sunburned arse out by the pool while correcting exams. It´d better be gone by the time our day trip to the water park next Wednesday rolls around, otherwise it´ll certainly make slides rather painful.
Trying to come up with a collective noun for cunts. We got as far as a delegation of cunts or an Ard Fheis of cunts.
Suggestions welcome.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Una Cerveza Con Limon Por Favor
In an effort to postpone any potential job hunting I could or should be doing, this coming Saturday at 6.20am (ungodly hour of the morning courtesy of Aer Lingus), I'll be hightailing it to a Summer School in the north of Spain that I worked in for July 2006 and 2007. That's right, with ne'er a TEFL to my name and six words of Spanish, I'm actually an English teacher in disguise. I'll be gone for four weeks, and although I'll miss the Bear and Tayto crisps like crazy, I'm looking forward to the day trips to bread factories and water parks, tortilla, cheap supermarket booze, acting the maggot in the swimming pool, tortilla and drinking games with the Spanish priests that run the school. Of course there's the actual teaching of classes in the morning and two hours of activities with the kids in the evening too but it's a pretty sweet deal even though you do have to go to mass on Sunday mornings.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Mes Vacances Sexy
In the words of Julie Andrews, these are a few of my favourite things...
Picking our jaws up off the floor of Crazy Horse, both of us falling in major lust with Dita and marvelling at the disappearing G-string trick executed by a flawless hottie gyrating on a spinning disc surrounded by lasers. Had to be seen to be believed. Despite the amazing show put on by Miss Von Teese and the Crazy Horse girls, the biggest cheer of the night went to two lads who happened to be a hilarious pair of tap dancing identical twins.
Following a treasure map of Père-Lachaise on a drizzly Saturday morning and only finding Jim when we noticed a crowd of fifteen or so Americans all gathered taking photos in the one spot. Said hi to Oscar, Edith, Sarah Bernhardt, Victor Noir and the doomed lovers along our pirate trail, and loved the fact that the Bear enjoyed traipsing around this graveyard as much as I did.
Forgoing the fact that we were in a food capital, and drunkenly scoffing KFC in our tiny but gorgeous hotel room after spending the evening getting shitfaced watching the rugby match in a Scottish pub that charged €7 for a pint bottle of cider. Robbers.
Racing around Disneyland like children full of Haribo, stuffing ourselves with foot-long hotdogs and legging it straight afterwards to a ride that entailed a 200ft freefall drop. Giggling insanely at the photo taken of us on Big Thunder Mountain, as it appeared that a motionless serial killer was sitting in front of us the entire way. We named him Jason.
Packing all the cheesy photo opportunities we could manage into the last day and ducking out of the rain by drinking gin and tonic out of an Orangina bottle in a cinema on the Champs-Elyseés.
Magic. Cúpla photos tomorrow, I promise.
Picking our jaws up off the floor of Crazy Horse, both of us falling in major lust with Dita and marvelling at the disappearing G-string trick executed by a flawless hottie gyrating on a spinning disc surrounded by lasers. Had to be seen to be believed. Despite the amazing show put on by Miss Von Teese and the Crazy Horse girls, the biggest cheer of the night went to two lads who happened to be a hilarious pair of tap dancing identical twins.
Following a treasure map of Père-Lachaise on a drizzly Saturday morning and only finding Jim when we noticed a crowd of fifteen or so Americans all gathered taking photos in the one spot. Said hi to Oscar, Edith, Sarah Bernhardt, Victor Noir and the doomed lovers along our pirate trail, and loved the fact that the Bear enjoyed traipsing around this graveyard as much as I did.
Forgoing the fact that we were in a food capital, and drunkenly scoffing KFC in our tiny but gorgeous hotel room after spending the evening getting shitfaced watching the rugby match in a Scottish pub that charged €7 for a pint bottle of cider. Robbers.
Racing around Disneyland like children full of Haribo, stuffing ourselves with foot-long hotdogs and legging it straight afterwards to a ride that entailed a 200ft freefall drop. Giggling insanely at the photo taken of us on Big Thunder Mountain, as it appeared that a motionless serial killer was sitting in front of us the entire way. We named him Jason.
Packing all the cheesy photo opportunities we could manage into the last day and ducking out of the rain by drinking gin and tonic out of an Orangina bottle in a cinema on the Champs-Elyseés.
Magic. Cúpla photos tomorrow, I promise.
Thursday, February 05, 2009
Paris in the Springtime
I've been completely useless in work all day, obsessively checking weather forecasts for the next four days, ignoring ones that tell me it's going to rain and carrying on searching till I find a more optimistic outlook. I've been Googling the bejaysus out of Père-Lachaise Cemetery, and squeaked with excitement when I found out that it's actually quite close to the hotel. So I'm on a mission to locate Oscar Wilde, Jim Morrisson, Edith Piaf, Abelard and Heloise and maybe Proust and Chopin too for the hell of it. I've got my outfit for Dita Au Crazy tomorrow night all planned, we'll be watching the Ireland v France match in a random pub on Saturday, I'm introducing the Bear to rollercoasters in Disneyland on Sunday and it's going to be a million kinds of fun. Tick tock work o' clock, needless to say, today feels like the longest day ever, I just hope the weekend won't fly too much! Wheee!
Thursday, January 22, 2009
February fun times!
So the weekend after my date with Dita I'm hitting the Rocky Horror Show night in the Sugar Club for Valentine's Day with Himself. For someone who's never been to a burlesque show of any description I'm really packing it all in this February! And once you've RSVPeed it on Facebook, there's no going back! Hooray!
Monday, January 12, 2009
My Hot Date in February
While idly reading Perez Hilton's site on Friday, I skimmed over some story about how Fergie Ferg and yer man from that Las Vegas show had Dita Von Teese perform at their joint stag/hen night. *Sigh* thought I. Seeing Dita live would be all kinds of amazing, oh if only. When I got to the last line of the story, I actually froze up and reread it about eight times, just in case I was delirious from Friday fever.
You WHAT? After the quickest googling of my life, I had the "Buy Tickets" page for Le Crazy Horse Paris open in front of me, and while stopping myself from clicking the beautiful shiny BUY button about four times, I emailed Himself, using possibly more exclamation marks than I ever have in my life. He reminded me how ridiculously expensive a trip such as this would be but agreed to think about it.
So guess where we'll be on the night of Friday 6th February?
In PARIS. At the Crazy Horse. In front of Miss Dita. That's where, bitches!
I've wanted to go to Crazy Horse ever since I read this in The Sunday Times Magazine and I've wanted to see Dita perform since forever! Two sexy birds with one superfun stone! So how do we follow a show like that while in Paris? By going to Disneyland of course! Strippers and rollercoasters - it's going to be the best weekend EVER in the history of weekends.
25 days to go!
Now what the HELL do I wear?!
You WHAT? After the quickest googling of my life, I had the "Buy Tickets" page for Le Crazy Horse Paris open in front of me, and while stopping myself from clicking the beautiful shiny BUY button about four times, I emailed Himself, using possibly more exclamation marks than I ever have in my life. He reminded me how ridiculously expensive a trip such as this would be but agreed to think about it.
So guess where we'll be on the night of Friday 6th February?
In PARIS. At the Crazy Horse. In front of Miss Dita. That's where, bitches!
I've wanted to go to Crazy Horse ever since I read this in The Sunday Times Magazine and I've wanted to see Dita perform since forever! Two sexy birds with one superfun stone! So how do we follow a show like that while in Paris? By going to Disneyland of course! Strippers and rollercoasters - it's going to be the best weekend EVER in the history of weekends.
25 days to go!
Now what the HELL do I wear?!
Monday, January 05, 2009
Plastic Trees, Poker and the Bunny of Death
Kitty's Christmas holidays consisted of:
- Coming to terms with the fact that we had a fake tree at home for the first time EVER. It actually looked really good, but it's just not the same without the piney smell.
- DEADLY Christmas presents. Everyone was on form this year!
- A night at home in which 34 assorted relatives came over for turkey, potato stuffing and poker. There was a chocolate fountain and I had my ass handed to me in the poker, which I'm blaming on shite cards.
- Missing my bear of a boyfriend like mad for the week I was home and making up for it by sending him durty text messages.
- A night out with the girls from school who I hadn't seen in about 2 years or something ridiculous like that. By closing time at the pub, me and AA were the last two standing out of the group and decided to go on the absolute rip in one of my hometown's two fine nightclubs, the one I had never been to despite it being open for about 7 years by now. English accents were the theme of the night and every second person at the club was someone I had been to school with, although none of them recognised me at first.
- Said night culminating with me crashing on a couch in the foetal position with a blanket pulled over my head as there was a little black bunny on the loose in the room and I didn't fancy waking up with him on my head. I thought we'd become friends but I awoke the next morning to find he'd bitten a small hole in my bag. Possibly to get at the pink lollipop I'd forgotten about, or possibly because he was just a malicious little fucker.
- Spending the second week with Himself in Dublin drinking, in bed and watching The Sopranos. Sometimes all at once.
- A trip to Westport with Himself and his brother, aka The Loudest Man In The Universe* to meet approximately 3 million of his bonkers-but-lovely relatives, including The Parents.
- Discovering a hidden talent at hula hooping on the Wii Fit. Can't hula hoop for nuts in real life but on Le Wii I kick serious ass!
Lovely! But now it's back to work. Boo.
*Seriously, he's so loud that mid-conversation at Electric Picnic, I realised that the box in my hand that I was eating a pie out of was vibrating as he was talking.
K
- Coming to terms with the fact that we had a fake tree at home for the first time EVER. It actually looked really good, but it's just not the same without the piney smell.
- DEADLY Christmas presents. Everyone was on form this year!
- A night at home in which 34 assorted relatives came over for turkey, potato stuffing and poker. There was a chocolate fountain and I had my ass handed to me in the poker, which I'm blaming on shite cards.
- Missing my bear of a boyfriend like mad for the week I was home and making up for it by sending him durty text messages.
- A night out with the girls from school who I hadn't seen in about 2 years or something ridiculous like that. By closing time at the pub, me and AA were the last two standing out of the group and decided to go on the absolute rip in one of my hometown's two fine nightclubs, the one I had never been to despite it being open for about 7 years by now. English accents were the theme of the night and every second person at the club was someone I had been to school with, although none of them recognised me at first.
- Said night culminating with me crashing on a couch in the foetal position with a blanket pulled over my head as there was a little black bunny on the loose in the room and I didn't fancy waking up with him on my head. I thought we'd become friends but I awoke the next morning to find he'd bitten a small hole in my bag. Possibly to get at the pink lollipop I'd forgotten about, or possibly because he was just a malicious little fucker.
- Spending the second week with Himself in Dublin drinking, in bed and watching The Sopranos. Sometimes all at once.
- A trip to Westport with Himself and his brother, aka The Loudest Man In The Universe* to meet approximately 3 million of his bonkers-but-lovely relatives, including The Parents.
- Discovering a hidden talent at hula hooping on the Wii Fit. Can't hula hoop for nuts in real life but on Le Wii I kick serious ass!
Lovely! But now it's back to work. Boo.
*Seriously, he's so loud that mid-conversation at Electric Picnic, I realised that the box in my hand that I was eating a pie out of was vibrating as he was talking.
K
Friday, December 19, 2008
Out the Gap!
Tis my last day in work before the holidays people and I probably won't be blogging till the Noo Year seeing as I only do when I'm supposed to be working and the Internet connection at home home is...so...very...slow. So HAPPY CHRISTMAS everyone from us Red Lemonaders and Mr Hugh Jackman. Yes indeedy.
K xx
Thursday, November 06, 2008
I'll give you a clue...you live there.
Wheee! Tomorrow evening at 9.45 I'll be on a Ryanair (I know - but they're just so cheap!) flight to Laandaan Taahn. And get this, I'm going with a BOY. A real boy! I've never gone away anywhere with a boyfriend before so I'm very effing excited about the whole thing. It's his friend's birthday so there's something of a crowd converging in the Stoke Newington (?) area of London for a weekend of shindigs and shenanigans. I hear on the grapevine that there'll be house parties, gigs somewhere around Hackney and hanging with the cool kids aplenty, it's going to be brilliant! I'll just have to try not to get ridiculously drunk and make a tit of myself, seeing as I only know maybe three other people who are going. Here's hoping!
K
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
The rain in Dublin falls far too bloody often
Heyho
So I'm back from Italy with about two weeks and have since been up to my lovely eyeballs in work. Rome and Venice were AMAZING and so much fun and if the Trevi Fountain is to be believed, I'm definitely going back sometime! Totally lost the run of myself where ice cream was concerned, I mean how could anyone walk past a counter selling coconut, green apple, pineapple, lemon, orange, white chocolate, even Kinder Egg flavoured ice cream and NOT stop!? And they're on every corner and I frigging love it. Neapolitan is about as exciting as it gets over here, it's so unfair!
This lady was by the Trevi Fountain, doing that usually really annoying human statue thing, but she was one of the best I've seen, she looked great and bobbed when you gave her money, and it was a nice change to see a hot lady do it and not a creepy man all painted silver.
I totally fell in love with Venice, especially with all the gorgeous masks in EVERY shop, they're just amazing, I could look at them all day. Needless to say, I bought myself a lovely cat mask over there. Now I just need to invent a reason to wear it...
So anyway in other, more boy-related news:
Toxic Boy has gotten back with his girlfriend, so that's him off the (metaphorical) table, which is probably a good thing, as major awkwardness would most likely ensue if anything further happened.
The Italian has been texting about meeting up, but he works nights and I was too wrecked all last week to do anything so we haven't gotten round to it yet. So he texted last night saying he'd be free this evening, but he hasn't gotten back to me yet since I replied yesterday. Hmm.
The Boosh Fan has been emailing since I got back and we've been chatting back and forth about all kinds of nonsense, even though I got totally caught out looking at his Bebo page back in the beginning when he saw that someone in Dublin viewed him. Foiled by technology! It's been going really well so far though, and I might suggest meeting up next week sometime. I'm still trying not to build it up too much, like I'm worried if I do meet him and don't like him that's it then, back to the drawing board. But we're getting on much like a house on fire (at least I think so) so you never know.
I'm really starting to proper fancy Rex from Big Brother, not least because I had a sexy dream about him last night...
There's not that many hot redheads really, is there? Apart from Prince Harry and Glen Hansard that is, but they're fairly thin on the ground. Oh, and I really need to work on my heatworld.com addiction, I don't even care about half the stories on there but can't help compulsively checking it, it's ridiculous!
Right, back to work then.
K
So I'm back from Italy with about two weeks and have since been up to my lovely eyeballs in work. Rome and Venice were AMAZING and so much fun and if the Trevi Fountain is to be believed, I'm definitely going back sometime! Totally lost the run of myself where ice cream was concerned, I mean how could anyone walk past a counter selling coconut, green apple, pineapple, lemon, orange, white chocolate, even Kinder Egg flavoured ice cream and NOT stop!? And they're on every corner and I frigging love it. Neapolitan is about as exciting as it gets over here, it's so unfair!
This lady was by the Trevi Fountain, doing that usually really annoying human statue thing, but she was one of the best I've seen, she looked great and bobbed when you gave her money, and it was a nice change to see a hot lady do it and not a creepy man all painted silver.
I totally fell in love with Venice, especially with all the gorgeous masks in EVERY shop, they're just amazing, I could look at them all day. Needless to say, I bought myself a lovely cat mask over there. Now I just need to invent a reason to wear it...
So anyway in other, more boy-related news:
Toxic Boy has gotten back with his girlfriend, so that's him off the (metaphorical) table, which is probably a good thing, as major awkwardness would most likely ensue if anything further happened.
The Italian has been texting about meeting up, but he works nights and I was too wrecked all last week to do anything so we haven't gotten round to it yet. So he texted last night saying he'd be free this evening, but he hasn't gotten back to me yet since I replied yesterday. Hmm.
The Boosh Fan has been emailing since I got back and we've been chatting back and forth about all kinds of nonsense, even though I got totally caught out looking at his Bebo page back in the beginning when he saw that someone in Dublin viewed him. Foiled by technology! It's been going really well so far though, and I might suggest meeting up next week sometime. I'm still trying not to build it up too much, like I'm worried if I do meet him and don't like him that's it then, back to the drawing board. But we're getting on much like a house on fire (at least I think so) so you never know.
I'm really starting to proper fancy Rex from Big Brother, not least because I had a sexy dream about him last night...
There's not that many hot redheads really, is there? Apart from Prince Harry and Glen Hansard that is, but they're fairly thin on the ground. Oh, and I really need to work on my heatworld.com addiction, I don't even care about half the stories on there but can't help compulsively checking it, it's ridiculous!
Right, back to work then.
K
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
2 Days till Rome!
Ok then, time for some updates. T Dog is slowly roasting in Cyprus this week, the jammy bint - although I'm off on my trip to Rome/Venice/London on Friday so I can't complain really. I've heard back from one of the lads I emailed the last day but I think we're running out of things to talk about already, especially since his replies are about three lines long.
HOWEVER, I did hear from a fella who completely won me over by emailing me a bunch of random Mighty Boosh quotes (yes, that probably is all it takes) and we've been getting along really well. He's hinted at meeting up when I get back from my Italian adventure, so I'm trying not to get too excited, seeing as that bit me right on the arse last time. He's cute and rather funny so I'll just have to wait and see. (Still though - YAY!)
I texted the Italian yesterday about meeting up, hoping that the Irish habit of not wanting to talk to someone properly and preferring a text had rubbed off on him by now. It didn't. He rang me back straightaway and said he wasn't sure if he could make it, but he'd ring today and let me know. In typical fashion, I forgot to bring my phone to work this morning so I'll have to wait till 5.30 to see if it's on or not tonight. I think I'd nearly prefer not to now, but all for stupid makey uppy reasons like I have to figure out what to pack for Friday, and I have to clean the house or it's raining. Both of which I do actually need to do and the last is true as of a half hour ago.
In other news...
Went on the lash in Cork with my friend Lady B at the weekend.
BBQ + Bulmers + the Roundy + vodka and Red Bull + random boys in drag + Jaeger shots + the Bodega + dancing + talking to strangers + more Jaeger + a lock-in courtesy of a ginger Italian fella = MONSTER hangover on Sunday. Followed by four and a half hours on an Aircoach. Nice.
Also, been watching Terry Pratchett's The Colour of Magic (had it taped since Easter, only getting round to it now), and absolutely loving the fact that Jeremy 'Ride me sideways' Irons is playing Lord Vetinari. In my head it was always Alan Rickman but Jeremy is also effing class and sexy enough to do it well. But why in the name of Jaysis have they given the best character in the series a fucking speech impediment!?
K
Update on the rain: it's now lashing. I'm not going anywhere tonight.
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