Friday, April 28, 2006

Smart Talking

Last weeek I was in Ireland, where I kissed the Blarney Stone and finally acquired the Gift of the Gab. If you haven't kissed the Blarney Stone, it's very high and scary. You lean over backwards off the edge of a castle while a dirty old Irishman holds you firmly around the chest. Also to get to Blarney I had to travel for six hours each way (one hundred miles) on Irish public transport, which is pretty Irish. Not since Croatia have I bought a train ticket only to find the buses are much faster and more reliable. Why build a nationwide rail network if it's not gonna be used? They should have just spent the money on coaches in the first place and not bothered with rails at all. But now I officially (although I didn't bother buying the certificate or photo, three and ten euros respectively) am eloquent and loquacious. It was worth going to Ireland with three people whose average age is 70 (my presence brought that down to a youthful 60) and a senile, incontinent and malevolent lap-dog who could tell which was my car-seat and piss in it every time to fulfil this lifelong ambition. Other ambitions now include:
  • Leaving my job for a new one where I can use the internet and where less than 33% of my colleagues have BO. Cos here, it's at least one in three. One in seven dribble when they think.
  • Being the queen of the world
  • Not having that feeling in the pit of my stomach everytime I hear the words 'council tax'
  • Tracking down every single person on this planet who tells you to 'watch yourself' when they mean that they are about to get in your way and should therefore be saying 'excuse me' and killing them
  • Getting a six-pack. (Obviously this is to compete with someone I know who has a six-pack. Why else would I care?
  • Finding the perfect summer dress. I saw a red one with white spots, sleeveless with a scooped neck and a mini-skirt in Ireland. Anyone who knows where I can buy such a garment in London, please let me know.

I keep meaning to have a party now I'm not actually starving through poverty. My sister had a great party a couple of weeks ago while my mum was on holiday. When she got back from holiday she assumed it was me! (That's a great compliment to my sister, I think.) But since I have my own home it might be slightly less sad to have it at my own, spacious and comfortable flat. ( Who cares about Lovebird and flatmate? Not me!!) Well, I'm still undecided. Suggestions to our usual PO box, thanks. Maybe fancy-dress...?

One of my best friends from school called me on Wednesday night. She's getting married this weekend. I remember us designing our wedding dresses together in the back of maths class in about year nine. Seems like yesterday- she's by no means the first girl in my class to get married but the first of my friends. I hope she's really happy. Dunno what to wear for the wedding- shalwar kameez ( but mine is a bit risque for the afternoon) or just a skirt (but I might look like I didn't make the effort.)

It's so nice to see the sun shining again. And not to wear horrid black tights. The council has planted beautiful orange yellow and red tulips all around my work and in about a week it will be warm enough for me to eat my lunch in Central Park. Not the one in New York, obviously. A different one.

My work is closing for six weeks for (half-arsed and cheap) refurbishment from next week. this is the bestthing that has happened to me for ages. I still have to come to work (God knows I need the money) but the public aren't allowed in the building. So we can play music and eat doughnuts while working!!! Even NOT WEAR UNIFORM!!! I can't wait.

I might even be able to blog a bit more regularly during that time.

1 comment:

woodscolt said...

You know RSVP means répondez s'il vous plait?

For your dress problem - I haven't seen anything like the one you describe. But Peacocks is BURSTING with cute dresses at the moment - I was there yesterday and there were about six dresses I would have bought if I weren't on an economy drive. Although given that none of them were over twenty quid, even a moderate economy drive would allow dress purchase.

This might also solve your wedding problem, although I think a shalwar kameez would rock.