Life's a bastard...but sometimes it lets up

The life and times of an ordinary Dublin girl. Follow her journey as she finds out working from home really ISN'T about watching Oprah all day and that perhaps men aren't really all bastards.

Friday, January 13, 2006

Canada here I come!

Phew! It turns out our rickety old scale isn’t so decrepit after all and that I HAVE actually lost weight.

Four pounds!

Four whole pounds!

Ah it was a great night. Add the weight loss to the gorgeous black boob-a-licious top I bought in Sasha and the yummy honey shower gel I picked up in L’Occitane and it was a fantastic night! (Late night shopping, how are ya?)

Of course the shopping part means I now have no money left for the month, but at least that means I won’t be able to buy food. So it’s a win-win situation!

Now all I have to do is lose another gazillion pounds and I’ll be sorted. Canada here I come!

(It's me jumping for joy, by the way!)

Thursday, January 12, 2006

When I'm wrong, I'm wrong....and other stories

I’M starting to like the rickety old scale in our bathroom. I know in the past I spoke about how I hated it and how weight varied depending on where on the floor you put it and how I wanted to fling it from the window to the furthest point possible.

But I’ve had a change of heart.

When I’m wrong, I’m wrong.

Standing gingerly on the scale this morning (shoes and all, as per WW requirements) it APPEARS that I have lost weight, though my official weigh-in isn’t til tonight on the proper electronic scales.

I’m not going to say how much it looks like I’ve lost in case the scale is in fact decrepit and I’ve actually put on weight…but I’m quietly confident that tonight’s figures will show a loss. I’ll keep you posted.

And now for something completely different (does that joke EVER get old?!)

I was reading in the Irish Times this morning (alright already, it was the Herald AM) how a new survey has shown that single and middle-aged men are the happiest people in Ireland.

How about that now?

The survey says that the average age for men to marry in the Republic of Ireland is 34 and their reasons for waiting until they are that bit older is because they want to “spend money and time on their own leisure habits” until they are “absolutely ready” to settle down. Ergo, while they’re living the life of Reilly (lucky duck that Reilly) they’re happier.

Middle aged and older men are happier because in the main their mortgage payments have ceased and they’re earning more money than they were when they were younger, so have more disposable cash to spend on fast cars, loose women and Just For Men*.

*I may or may not have made that last bit up*

I think I might start taking a leaf out of men’s books as they obviously have the right idea. According to this survey, these men live the high life, enjoy themselves, travel the world and THEN start thinking about settling down. It’s not that they never get married, they do, it’s just not top of their agenda and apparently, they’re happier for it.

As a woman (and I’m not speaking for all women here, just myself) I know that marriage or settling down isn’t exactly top of my agenda, but it is high up there. I do want a boyfriend, partner, husband, soulmate – call it what you will and I would like to meet him earlier on in life rather than later. But maybe if I ‘make like a man’ and do all the other stuff I want to do first, the rest will just slot into place? I don’t know if that’s feasible, but it’s something to think about anyway!

On the other hand, I can’t see HOW it would all just slot into place as I seem to have trouble meeting decent men, no matter what I do or don’t do. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.

Now, how does everyone feel about speed dating?


Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Three...look all around you, before you cross the road....

WELL my New Year’s resolution to blog more often is going well isn’t it? Oh the busy life of a working Dublin girl.

Anyway, just to update you all, I’ve given up on my OTHER resolution to say hello to the man I pass in the street every morning as I’m now doubly convinced he reads this blog and is a-scared of me.

You might remember that I had vowed to say hello to him and the next day he disappeared. Well, for the past three mornings he has re-appeared but scowled ferociously at me when I pass by, keeping his head down and scurrying up the road like the Devil himself is after him.

Ho hum. I guess he’ll have to do without my charming good morning smile then. *Kaz mentally thumbs her nose at as yet unnamed street man*

While I was waiting at the bus stop this morning however I witnessed a child of about nine almost being mown down by a Garda patrol car as she crossed the street on her bicycle, which was a *sarcastic* nice way to start the day.

Thankfully the only people shaken up by the incident were us onlookers as the child was completely unaware of the fate that almost befell her and cycled on blithely to school, not noticing the car which had to jam on its brakes or the crowd of people at the bus stop who exclaimed ‘Holy Jesus’ out loud (me being one of them).

In fairness to the child she had a green pedestrian light to cross the street, but the patrol car had all its lights and sirens going and every other car on the street had pulled out of its way or slowed down, which she obviously just failed to notice and cycled on right out into the path of the car.

Kudos must go to the Garda driving the car who reacted quickly to the situation. And kudos must also go to him for not getting out of the car and giving her a good clip around the ear which, judging by the look on his face, is what he wanted to do! He contented himself with gesticulating wildly and carrying on to the emergency.

It got the oul blood pumping I can tell you. I also noticed she wasn’t wearing a helmet or any other protective gear and while she had the gumption to cross the street at a traffic light, she didn’t have the cop on to look both ways while she was doing it.

What do they teach them in school these days? I feel a letter to my local newspaper coming on!


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