Call me

Hate: The cold
Like: Chocolate and scarves and other winter products
Complaint of the day: My right hand's colder than my left

Just reading a piece there from rte.ie yesterday about a chinese couple who want to call their child @. See here: http://www.rte.ie/news/2007/0820/china.html

I think it's quite a nice name and even cooler cos it would only take two twenthieths of a second to sign your name. I'm reminded of my significant other who insists that 7 is the perfect name for a boy. 'Seven' (sounds welsh I guess) may be allowed but '7' is not. I only know cos I interviewed one of those people who actually take in the birth certs and process names during an article I wrote for college and was told that numbers are not allowed. So guess it's back to the baby book.

Scribbles

Hate: People who get on the bus and talk REALLY LOUDLY ABOUT ALL THE SHITE GOING ON IN THEIR LIFE. I don't care. Just keep it down. (not being dublinist but we're talking dubs here)

Like: Sunny skies

Complaint of the day: I've been receiving loadsa complaints. Stop complaining!

Writing class was brill! Very happy I joined. It was better than I predicted although I did get somethings right. There were loadsa housewifey types there. And the teacher had a beard. But there were way more younger people people than I thought, more men and a big pints session afterwards. Didn't expect that.

It's based around improving your reading knowledge, looking at other writer's work, searching for ideas and critiquing your class colleagues' scripts. Apparently the knees up afterwards is a way of getting you to relax in each other's presence so that you can bitch each other's pieces without offending anyone cos you are all 'friends'. I like it! I also enjoyed meeting new people who shared the same interest as me. It's safe to say I felt... alive.

I rushed out to buy a load of new books afterwards. I love buying books. This is only a recent phenomenon although I do geekishly remember being very excited when I rented a book from the library that I knew I'd love. It's so much easier to buy a book than find a pair of jeans/shoes/top/handbag/bra that fits you, matches everything and doesn't cost the earth. Sure a book only costs 11 euro. And it doesn't make you feel fat.

Looking forward to tomorrows' class - have to finish the readings tonight and write the task, but that should be fine. Slightly more worried about the personal essay you have to produce at the end of the term - what the hell will I write about? Having your personal problems displayed for all and sundry to see makes me feel vulnerable. Very vulnerable.

I'm not going mad with the drink either. Can't be getting locked after every class... think of the beer belly. So I've arranged it that I can't go drinking for long for the next two Thursdays. Good woman.

In other feminist news, I watched a really good doc at the weekend about honour killings. Kadriye Demirel, a 17-year-old living in Diyarbakir in Turkey, was being raped by her neighbours (it was not clear whether it was consensual or rape, but it seemed to be rape). When she became pregnant, her brothers and cousin put a sword in her head and then beat her with a rock. The rock lodged in the wound. She died later in hospital. In protest, the muslim women removed their headscarves and carried her coffin at the funeral - a big no-no in the muslim faith. It was fascinating stuff.

I know honour killings receive quite a lot of press and the stigma of pregnancy outside marriage is still taboo, even in Ireland today, but beating a young girls head in with a meat cleaver and a rock, to punish her for being raped, fills me with so much rage I could spit purple blood. The hypocrisy and injustice of it all makes me want to kill men or something. This would be pointless however, as the women seem to be included in it too. In this case, it appears that her mother knew she would be killed and let it happen. She claimed she 'fell asleep, or something' while her daughter was being butchered in the street.

So that's my feminist rant for today.

I don't hate men (actually I really like them) I just hate what I've described above.

(Inherently female) Ladysinger

New boobs please

Hate: Toasted sandwiches that are warm on the outside but cold on the inside
Like: Reading
Complaint of the day: It's only Thursday


First creative writing class tonight! I don't know what to expect... well actually I do, or at least I think I do. I reckon there'll be about twelve people. It'll be made up of a lot of girls who want to write novels, a few older persons who have retired and want to write novels and some foreigners. Cos they be everywhere these days. I think the teacher will have a beard. And he'll listen deeply to anything we say with nods of approval and lots of 'hmmmmmm's, yes'.

I hope we're not told to 'imagine yourself as a tree' and then expected to write about it. God, what'll I use for inspiration?! Am very excited.

This week is DRAGGING. Guess it's cos the girlios are away and I am spending a lot more time on my own.

Have been reading the Daily Mail's webpage which is full of quirky stories usually involving tales of woe and sex and hard luck and babies. I love it.


Today I read:


On trial: the thigh-slimming tights that bust your cellulite (definitely buying them and wearing them for the rest of my life)

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/pages/live/femail/article.html?in_article_id=467833&in_page_id=1879

Frank Lampard's fiancee changes locks on their €8million Chelsea Home (Charlotte Church has thrown her hubby to be out too)

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/pages/live/articles/showbiz/showbiznews.html?in_article_id=467684&in_page_id=1773

and

Bothched tummy tucks and glued back ears: dramatic rise in DIY plastic surgery (it is truly disgusting, the home nose job is revolting)

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/pages/live/articles/news/news.html?in_article_id=467861&in_page_id=1770

I never thought about DIY surgery. I am loving (and awaiting) the new stem cell boob job however. This is where they take fat from your ass (or thighs or tummy) stick it in your boobs and lo and behold - skinny ass, big jaloobas. Brilliant! Why did we never think of it before?


On a more serious note, it is being developed for women who've had breast cancer, but as soon as they patent it and it becomes readily available for the ordinary vain and unhappy girl, there'll be thousands flocking for it, no doubt about it.

Met my mate for lunch today who is suffering a severe case of the summertime blues. Felt really sorry for her actually. Ok, so she had two glorious weeks in Barbados, while I still haven't managed to leave the stinking country this year, but coming back to this shite grey weather can't be easy.

Thinking of doing the package deal ourselves but now I'm all worried that the good deals will be gone as everyone is trying to escape. Can't say this to the boy though in case i RUSH him. Define last minute deal. Is it the day before or the month before? Remember when you used to book your holiday a year and a half in advance?

Well I'm still stuck in that rut, whereas the boy has moved into the new lastminutedotcom era of not wanting to make any arrangements until absolutely necessary. We'll be on the way to the airport before he dicides to call the travel operator.

Anyway,

Venting,

It feels good

Ciao (but not heading to Italy, boo :( )

Ladysinger

Sluts!

Hate: Hating, I'm going to have to start putting 'like' first
Like: Softmints and going on dates and having a free house so that you can clean loads without people getting in your way
Complaint of the day: None today

I was going to blog about a SHIT piece of journalism that I unfortunately picked up in the SINdo's magazine Life, so I went looking for it on the net to attach clunks of its crapdom. I couldn't find it but I did find this:

http://www.independent.ie/opinion/analysis/lets-face-it-monogamy-is-getting-a-tad-monotonous-135747.html

which scared me. Then in today's Examiner (and radio ad, which they are running to promote it) I found this:

http://www.examiner.ie/irishexaminer/pages/story.aspx-qqqg=ireland-qqqm=ireland-qqqa=ireland-qqqid=36923-qqqx=1.asp

Why do we cheat, a special two part series on affairs of the heart, tells us that a third of people over 50 have sex with someone other than their partner. A third! Jeez. And both men and women (in Ireland anyway) are as likely to cheat as each other. The figures for other bold stuff are amazing too.

I find stuff like this saddening and frightening, but also fascinating. Were we made to be monogamous or do Mormons have the right idea? Or is that Muslims? Are both allowed to be polygamous?

Anyway, it seems and is portrayed that nature intended man to spread-it-around happy while us mere fe(eble)males are too busy having his babies to care that he has another woman on the go. I mean a Muslim man is entitled to four wives, but she, not only must not be shared, but can't ask for divorce . It's entirely up to the man! Now maybe that's only in Taliban countries etc, but still, the sentiment is the same.

The article I was orginally looking for was called... Sluts! Despite the exciting name, it was the biggest loada drivel I ever read in my whole life. Carol Tobin (I don't know who she is, but when I google her, it seems she may in fact be a well known comedian) writes on the opinions of opinions of somebody she was talking to and he said that she said that I think that we will. It made no sense, had no context, and went nowhere. I think it was supposed to be about women having one night stands but I couldn't really find any content to do with the headline. Will bring in the mag tomorrow to back up my opinion. Then you'll see.

In other relationship news, the breakup of Chanelle and Ziggy was utterly amusing last night. (Big Brother, loving it this year) Chanella sat with a faaaayse on her as Ziggy explained in no uncertain terms how they weren't working out. They both tried to blame each other for stuff, but with him being more articulate than her, all she could do was interrupt. Meanwhile one of the dumb twins (I'm blonde, I'm sweet, I don't have a lot of meat.... what was the question again?) kept entering the room where they were arguing asking: "Would you like beans or mashed potatoes or chilli. Would you prefer beef? If you like beef, I can ask Carol to make it, what would you prefer? I'm having a salad. With potatoes. I love pototoes."

If I had of been arguing and some food monster insisted on breaking my argumentative flow I woulda told her where to go.

Off to see Die Hard tonight. Yeah!

Not really, but the boy will love it and anything to keep him happy.

(Feminised) Ladysinger

Festival Fever

Hate: Not having a ticket to Oxygen

Like: Turkey and stuffing

Complaint of the day: It's STILL raining, but we're laughing cos it's so ridiculous

Suddenly decided during the week that I wanted to go to Oxygen, despite not having any desire at all throughout the year. And even with the rain I still want to go.

Course it's a bit late now and there are no tickets left. There was a glimmer of hope when I checked my bebo this morning to see a message offering a ticket but by the time I got hold of the number to call the ticket was gone. So frustrating!

I weally wanna go now!

Very jealous of the girlies who are heading off to Thailand at the weekend. This is another area where I've had a complete U-turn (affected by recent political events? [joke]) Hearing them talk about it and realising I will be sitting round like a pleb without them has made me want to rush out and book the next flight to Bangkok.

The fact I don't have my own holiday booked has prob more to do with that tho.

(Holiday sick) Ladysinger

Pick on this

Like: Burger King
Hate: Smelly men who pick their noses on public transport
Complaint of the day: It's still raining

Had good weekend despite the illness of it all. Couldn't make it out on Friday night, was too sore, miserable and drowsy from the drugs so had conversations with my drunken boyfriend instead, who was at The Who in Marley Park. Was trying to arrange to meet him, but then his battery died and that was the end of that. He is very cute when drunk (even if he does do silly things like let his battery die and then fail to call me back on someone else's phone).

Was carless on Saturday as it had to go in for a service. When I got it back it was like a brand new motor. Vroom! Well worth all the money to make it better again. That night we had a family do with all of the boy's family and relations. The free bar was too much to resist and despite my kidneys squeezes of protest I eventually moved on from the colas to the beers. It was painful, but worth it. I know I will pay for being so bold, but free drink is very difficult to refuse, especially for a girl with alcoholic tendencies from birth. (Irish, runs in the family)

Is there any law against picking your nose in public? You're not allowed pee or expose yourself in front of other people (unless they ask you) Surely hawking around the inside of your nostrils and displaying and disposing the contents in full view of random travellers could be deemed illegal. It is DISGUSTING! eughhh. I nearly vomited all over this man beside me on the bus today. Not only did he stink of piss he but he proceeded to lump big rolls of snot all around me on my way to work this morning. Pickers, out!

(Revolted) Ladysinger

Spicy kidneys

Hate: Kidney infections
Like: Painkillers and anti-biotics
Complaint of the day: see hate

Was out sick yesterday with the blasted infection of the kidney that I have become accustomed to. Never had pain quite like this one though - I don't know why someone (God) is trying to punish me. Maybe it's a hint to curb my intake of alcohol or summat, but I'm hardly an alcoholic. I dunno. All I know is that I always get sick towards a weekend and then can't drink cos I may go mad on antbiotics.


See the Spice Girls are getting back together. Yay! I don't know why it excites me, but it's way more fun than Take That's reunion. I guess it's cos we'll get to look at their style and bitch about them and then copy some of their looks the next weekend. Let's hope they don't bring those disgusting platform trainer yokes back though. Was having a think about it yesterday and thought about the new names we could rename each spice girl.



Posh Spice would have to be 'rexic' spice or 'ana' spice

Scary Spice could be 'murphy' spice for obvious reasons

Baby Spice coudl be 'preggers' spice for other obvious reasons

Ginger Spice I would like to rename 'mingin' spice but that's probably mean

Sporty Spice I think could be 'non' spice because she dosen't seem to have done much in past while. No baby or body scandals that I can think of.

It's only six years since they broke up. Seems waaaay longer that that.

Was watching Baby on Board last night on RTE. (what can I say, kidney infection means no going out, so TV it has to be) I got really teary when the new family brought the little babog back home to meet the grandparents for the first time (the mammy involved was spanish). There's something about new babies that really gets to me. It's embarrassing really.

All I can deduct is that historically, I would have at least four kids now, so biologically my body is behaving perfectly normal. In our modern world however I should be waiting another six years before the time is right to be even thinking in the family way. So what does that mean for the mental state of mind?

Lots of tears at baby programmes and reassurances to the boy (as he bolts out the door) that yes I want one, but no, not yet. Next month maybe. :)

Following Baby on Board, was my favourite I'm an adult get me outta here. Apart from the presenter being hot (he is) I love watching nearly-30 year olds living it up in their parent's pads trying to find a shoebox to fit their budget. They're always so narky and set in their ways and unwilling to compromise. It makes me proud that I am not living at home.

And good news on the writing front. Very easily found a writer's group (the Irish Writer's Centre, first google that comes up) so I've signed myself up for a thursday night session for ten weeks. Let the creative juices flow....

(Broody - just a little bit) Ladysinger

New day for comedy

Hate: Forgetting things
Like: Spending money
Complaint of the day: I bought my lovely danish in a tea-shop this morning and when I got to the office I realised I'd left it on the counter. D'oh!

Myself and the boy headed to the International Bar last night for their comedy show. Took a lot of persuasion to actually get him there, I must admit, but it was worth it in the end.

We had only been there once in our college 'when everything was fun' days and I did feel a little old being back there. Everyone was in hoodies and grungy gear and I'd say we were the only two actually out earning in 'proper' jobs there. Well, proper in that we were finished college and had nothing else to do except work.

Last time we were there, Des Bishop was hosting. He spent the whole show trying to extract a heroin addict with old slash marks all up her arms from the toilets. He struggled to make jokes having come face to face with living sadness, but sure isn't that what comedy is all about? Taking the piss out of the unfortunate?

Aaaaaanyway, things were a lot different this time round. If anything the whole thing has become slightly more amateur, but not necessarily less fun. Gone are the Des Bishops and Joe Rooneys and stand ups in general; in their place are creative college kids, with laptops and projectors and soundbites. New media comedy I guess.

We had a presentation, a girl who acted over a soundclip, numerous clips from you tube and an interactive piano playing session. It was loadsa fun, very entertaining and really really new. They had biscuits at the interval. Better than a poke in the arse at the bar.

The International is a place where comedians go to try out new material (so I've been told anyway). If anything I think we were witness to a whole flurry of new television programmes.
Some of them are already in the making (check out http://www.idareya.ie/) while others are bound to make themselves onto shows somewhere. Bit like a live Naked Camera really.

If you're interested check out http://www.myspace.com/dietofworms who were there last night. The ATM sketch is class.

(Amused) Ladysinger

Body found, bee (7months)

Hate: Nothing today
Like: My wooly scarf that's keeping me warm (yes in June)
Complaint of the day: I'm cold

I found him! The bee! Only he's not a bee. He's a wasp! And best of all... he's dead. I emptied the handbag I had out on Saturday night this morning and the first thing to fall out onto the bed, was the body of the stinging murderer. Well he could have murdered me, if I had been allergic.

Damian made the rather amusing comment today that he probably died from alcohol poisoning after sticking his little sharp todger (that appropriate) into my leg. Well I don't care. I'm glad.

Have goosepimples all over me today. All jokes about the Irish weather aside, this is getting scary. Check out here: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/6239828.stm People are dying in England!

And on another dismal message, there was a man found dead in Drogheda last night. This follows from a death in Carlingford at the weekend and a grisly attack on a holidaying couple up near the border a few weeks ago. Vicious times.

(Scared) Ladysinger

Bzzzzzzzz

Hate: fighting
Like: parties
Complaint of the day: See below

Had the very unusal experience of getting stung by a BEE in a TAXI at 3AM on the way to a very enjoyable party on Saturday night. Wtf? What's more, it crawled up my dress to do the nasty deed. Clever bugger.

Still sore today and apparently it can take a week to go away. So I'm not doing any exercise in case I disturb the venom still lodged in my leg and pass it round the blood supply. I love coming up with valid excuses not to exercise. Most recent one has been the monsoon season and luckily that looks set to continue.

Feeling a bit lonely in the house at the mo, what with the girls doing their various holiday things, so Im gonna search the web for info on Italy to cheer myself up!

(Stingingly) Ladysinger

Sexy Mama

Opened up a girl's magazine recently (i think it was aimed at the age 8 and up) and it had the lyrics of Pussy Cat Girls written out on the back page for little girls to sing along with. The song? Loosen up my buttons.

Chorus: I'm tellin ya ta loosen up my buttons babe (uh huh) But you keep frontin (uh) Say what you gon' do to me (uh huh) But i see nothin' (uh) Im telling ya ta loosin up my buttons babe (uh huh) But you keep frontin (uh) Say what you gon' do to me (uh huh) But i see nothin' (nothin')

Verse: I like when the physical, dont leave me askin for more Im a sexy mama, Who knows just how to get what I wanna

What i wanna do is bring this on ya. Baby can't you see How these clothes are fittin on me And the heat comin from this beat Im about to blow

You say you're a big boy, but I cant agree 'cause the love you said you had ain't been put on me I wonder if im just too much for you Wonder, if my kiss dont make you just... Wonder, what i got next for you What you wanna do

Open up my buttons? I'm a sexy mama. You're a big boy, i'm about to blow? What were the magazine's editors thinking?! Anyway just thought of that after I read the article below, taken from today's times. I had Debbie as a lecturer in first year and she got me really interested in feminist studies. I think this piece hits the nail on the head. I am so uneased by sexual dolls being given to kids.... what was wrong with Sindy???!

Society is complicit in turning girls into sex objects

We are outraged by child pornography, but the sexualisation of children is all around us, from bra tops to Bratz dolls, and we say nothing, writes Debbie Ging.

This week's news about the break-up of an international paedophile ring revealed some facts which are literally too horrific to contemplate: men videoing themselves raping their own children, some as young as five. Naturally enough, most people want to see these individuals put behind bars for life; others advocate more severe punishments, from chemical castration to public hanging.

The sense of anger and outrage people feel is justified, and there is no doubt that tracking down and imprisoning the perpetrators will save many children from a fate arguably worse than death. It is not, however, going to solve the problem - because sexualised images of children are not just the stuff of covert internet porn rings. They are all around us, and we have failed to be shocked by them.

High-heeled shoes and boots are available in Irish shoe shops for children aged five and upwards. T-shirts with "porn star" written across the chest are widely available for the same age group. Major chain-stores sell g-string and bra sets for girls ranging from five to 10 years of age. Bratz dolls, now far exceeding sales of Barbie, combine pre-pubescent, wide-eyed innocence with the clothing and make-up of the prostitute or dominatrix. Bratz Babies, which wear make-up and earrings but carry babies' milk bottles, represent an even more perturbing mix of adult sexuality and infancy.

Irish parents seem to have put up little resistance against the tide of gender-stereotyped and sexualised products and images which have recently flooded the children's media, toy and clothing industries.

The spectre of little girls wearing bra tops, shaking their bootie and singing suggestive lyrics does not appal us, at least not sufficiently to make us call for a ban on advertising during children's programming or to reject the alleged inevitability of these developments.
Increasingly we hear reports of eight-year-old girls about to make their Holy Communion availing of highlights, tanning and leg-waxing. Parents roll their eyes and say "girls will be girls".

It is time to get real. Girls, if they continue to be treated like this, will be sexual objects: in their own eyes and those of others. For all its rhetoric about a society of free choice that engenders liberal, open debate, post-Celtic Tiger Ireland has not yet had an honest public discussion on this topic.

The Irish media has routinely constructed paedophiles as anti-social "outsiders" or strangers, (homo)sexually-repressed priests or disturbed celebrities, while playing down or ignoring the fact that most child abuse takes place within the family. Statistics from the Rape Crisis Centre in Dublin show that, in 2005, 19.6 per cent of reported child sexual abuse cases were perpetrated by fathers, 16.2 per cent by brothers, 26.8 per cent by another male relative and 30.2 per cent by another known person. Only 3.4 per cent of cases were perpetrated by strangers.

It is time to face up to the realities of child abuse - to acknowledge that raunch culture for the under-12s has become acceptable in the current mediascape; to face the fact that paedophilia is not restricted to small circles of anti-social sex monsters but is more commonplace than most people would like to think; and to take responsibility for the messages we are sending out to children by condoning and conspiring, albeit inadvertently, in their sexualisation.

Many of these realities are hard to stomach, but there is a real need, now more than ever, to think about them and to talk about them honestly and openly if the problem is ever to be successfully tackled.

Dr Debbie Ging is a lecturer and researcher on gender in the media at the School of Communications, Dublin City University.

Hungover but happy

Hate: hangovers
Like: drink
Complaint of the day: my tummy hurts

Staff do was lots of fun last night. My depression is gone. It had already started to evaporate yesterday anyway thanks to a bit more security in the job situation and the boy saying we could book a holiday next week. And he mentioned Italy. Tres exciting!

It's funny at work today, because EVERYBODY is hungover. It's like theres a cloud of alcohol fumes hanging over everyone's head and we can barely look up with the weight of it. Don't really remember much at the end of last night except larding everyone out of the kebab shop and into a taxi for no good reason. Can't a drunk person enjoy their kebab at the end of the night without having to do it in transit? Woke up this morning to a very suspect orange stain on the bedsheets. Fake tan? Make-up? Blood? No. Kebab sauce.

I entered the opening lines competition yesterday on radio one and it's suffice to say my entry was... shit. I thought I was more talented that that, but I'm not. However it's got me thinking about creative writing again and I'm thinking of tracking down a course or writer's group or something where you're forced to write creatively once a week. I wonder is there anything like that out there? Course I don't want to be stuck with a bunch of annoying hippies but I might look into it and see what's out there.

Not putting my entry up cos I'm embarrassed.

(Headachey) Ladysinger

Depression

Hate: My new fringe. It's all over the gaff, not sexy, just gappy
Like: My colleagues' straighteners
Complaint of the day: It's still raining

Had a severe bout of depression there all day yesterday. Not sure if it's lifted yet today, will have to wait and see. I can see three reasons for this. One; the monsoon season that has hit Ireland and is battering the bejaysus out of us, two; the uncertain world of the working girl, three; i have no holidays planned yet, and it's the end of June! Truly depressing.

I think once the weather lifts, so too will my spirits, along with the rest of the country.

Have decided to enter the writing competition on Ryan Tubridy's radio one show - you have to write the start of a novel, in less than thirty words, and if it's good enough, you can win a trip to new york. That might help the depression.

So I will blog my entry ideas here. For the craic.

Ladysinger

I'm back!

Hate: Not knowing what the future holds
Like: Pasta with melted mozzarella
Complaint of the day: It's raining


Forgot I was a blogger for a while.

Only put those last two entries in cos I had my computer home with me at the time. And that was three months ago. I think I'd be a much better blogger if I had my laptop home with me all the time, but because I use it at work, it's difficult and I'm too lazy to cart it home. Who wants to look up a blogger who posts every three months??!!

Plus I haven't quite worked out how to upload images yet, but I will!

Things bit up in the air after the elections at the mo. Not sure where we will all end up, but at least there's a staff party tomorrow night, so that's something definite on the itinerary. I'm off to try and make this page more alive.

(Unsettled) Ladysinger

Back trouble

Visited the docs today on account of never ending medical problems and when in the chemist spotted a sign which offered a chiropractor in store that day.

So went down to meet him, but came away feeling more confused than ever. First off, I noticed he was very very touchy feely... definitely a no-no in a medical practioner. You may, afterall, have to get your kit off for them at some point. At their request.

After touching and rubbing my leg over and over I was waiting for him to ask me to strip to my bra. This he didn't do, thankfully, but he did manage to get me in a back to front bear hug with my hand dangling near his nether regions. Shudder.

He took some snaps of me (for medical purposes) uploaded them onto a computer and lo and behold... showed me I have the spine of a monkey. Or at least an ape. Or possibly the hunchback of Notre Dame (is he an ape?)

Appalled, he told me my right shoulder hangs below my left, my spine is twisted and this could all be causing the numerous kidney infections I suffer, not to mention the constant and excruciating back pain.

I am a monkey. A deformed monkey. How could this have happened? Is it bad genes? Bad posture? Too heavy school bags? Sitting at a desk all day?

Anyway he says he can fix it in about forty visits. Forty! He kept promising me this and that and I sat there with a face on cos I don't like to think somebody is manipulating my deformity into a sales pitch.

And I don't know whether I should go back to him to have it seen to. It'd cost a couple of grand and there's no guarantee he would fix me. I've had experience of chiropractors before and I really did think they were taking the mickey with the amount of money they expected me to hand over for a tiny tap on a few vetebrae, THREE TIMES A WEEK!

But I'm in pain. And I don't like looking like a monkey. A monkey who will possibly end up in nappies the way the kidleys are going. So I'll mull it over and study the charts he printed out of my twisted spine.

In other news, have sorted out d'mother's pressie methinks. Thinking of sending her to a spa where they offer lovely massages and facials and stuff, but best of all, hair and make-up done! She'll be delighted. The bro and da have offered (been told) to chip in so it's all good.

Well, guess it's time to retire from the office (it is 8pm afterall)

Amarach,

(Humpy) Ladysinger

Hello to you

Hate: Smudgy foggy glasses
Like: My new juicing machine
Complaint of the Day: Put my back out yesterday bending down to pick up a lead that had fallen of my laptop. Never knew blogging could be so dangerous

See the Sunday Indo have big spread in Life magazine this weekend on.... D4 girls posing. Since when is it news that D4 girls pose? Course they’re not called D4 girls anymore but ‘SoCoDu Bebo Queens’. Yuck.

Bebo's biggset downfall (apart from the addiction part) has to be the spurning of an ever posing, camera at the ready, I need to prove how good-looking and fun I am, generation.

Saw it at close hand a few weeks ago, when myself and two mates headed to a bar with my mate’ sisters’ friends. They ignored the band for most of the night to instead concentrate on the far more interesting ‘themselves’. Posing throughout the night as superman, superwoman, fierce, angry, girly, pretty, drunky, dancey, they snapped and snapped until the memory card was full.

Sure enough, the next day, all the photos were on bebo for themselves to look at – a good night had by all!

Maybe I’m jealous cos they’re prettier than I am, but to me, a good night out should at least involve a bit of chat with other people. A photo here and there to remember the good times is fine. But 372 of the same night out?

It took me about two weeks to sort through and throw up a few images of myself on my bebo page. They crossed the world a few times on various holidays and of course I edited to make sure only my most flattering images appeared. I reckon that’s normal though. I don’t think it’s normal for the purpose of your night out to be how many cute pictures of yourself you can take. And that’s my bebo rant for today.

Back to work tomorrow after a whole week off. Depression! I’ve kinda decided though that I need to lighten up, to learn to switch off and to realise that there’s more to life than the rat race blah blah blah. For the sake of my relationship I need to. We all need to unwind, and this usually involves me biting my other half’s head off. Obviously unfair. Obviously uncalled for.

Looking forward to meeting up with the heads from Australia Paddy’s weekend. Something that never occurred to me however was that it is Mam’s 50th the same weekend and she’s booked a meal for us the day after Paddy’s Day. Now being an uncaring, self-obsessed daughter, I had totally forgot about her birthday and I had planned to spend the whole weekend with my friends – but she is the woman who gave birth to me afterall. So guess it’ll be drinky drinky all day Saturday and eatey eatey, pretendy not be hungover on Sunday. What can I get for her birthday though. A spa weekend?

Suppose I better go to sleep. Prepare for the return to the rat race. Sigh.

Ladysinger