Turns out though, thinking of 101 things about yourself is actually a bit tricky. Making them even vaguely interesting is nigh on impossible. Anyway, here goes:

1. I have a small birth mark behind my left knee. It’s my only one

2. My sister has perfectly straight hair, which was blonde until she was about 14. I hated her for it when we were children

3. When I was 7 I had a pet bee for an afternoon. I coloured his wing in with a purple felt tipped pen… which is probably part of the reason he didn’t fly away for a long while

4. I have a very mild allergic reaction to penicillin. It brings me out in a rash all over

5. When I was 7 I came home from school to find my goldfish now had black spots – my mum told me it was allergic to medicine from the vets, the way I was allergic to medicine from the Dr. I believed her… for several years

6. I was genuinely woeful at sports at school. I was mediocre (a vast improvement for me) at rounders & volleyball. I was quite good at the high jump & trampolining.

7. I won the Greater Manchester Maths Challenge when I was 12

8. My mum was invited to be interviewed on Good Morning Britain when I was 8 & Rick Astley was going to be there too. My father decided we wouldn’t go as it was too far a drive. I have never forgiven him for not letting me meet Rick

9. I lived in Canada from the age of 3 to 5

10. I am a die hard Manchester United fan, but because of Heg, I will always have a soft spot for Oldham Athletic

11. My Grandad (on my father’s side) had trials for Man City & Notts County, but the war kicked off & put an end to all that. He became a tailor

12. When my Dad moved in with my Mum, my sister & me, I thought he was 33 because he “had 33 year old hands”. He had to show me his driver’s license to prove he was only 27

13. I have a borderline phobia of pineapples

14. I can’t watch The Snowman even though it’s on TV every Christmas. I sang “We’re walking in the air” in a school play when I was about 8, while dressed as a doormouse. I LOVED it at the time, but now the song & memory makes me cringe

15. I think my eyes are my best feature

16. My mum is the one person I admire above all others in the entire world. She has incredible integrity & strength of character

17. I can’t do that fingers in the mouth whistling thing.

18. My name was chosen a) because, unsurprisingly, my parents liked it and b) because it was the name of the singer on a song that they both really liked too

19. My great-grandad told me he painted planes during the war. He was colour-blind. I asked him if he’d ever accidentally painted a plane pink. Apparently not.

20. When I was young I wanted to be a maths teacher.

21. When my sister was a very small child and was being taught to use cutlery, I would wait until mum left us alone & then tell my sister that the knife was a fork and the fork was a knife. Mum couldn’t work out why Colette kept getting it wrong. To this day if you ask her to pass you a knife, she’ll hesitate for a split second to check she’s actually giving you the right thing. She was 29 last week.

22. I think singing at the top of your voice is the second greatest stress reliever around, especially if you’re also dancing around your room in your underwear at the same time

23. I read French at university and also did basic German & Italian. I can’t remember much of any of them nowadays. I hate that I was fluent once & am not any more. I should sort that out really

24. When I was 14 I had all my hair cut off as I wanted it short for a while. I looked like Ryan Giggs & was called “Giggsy” for all of 4th & 5th year

25. I once worked on reception at a leisure centre during 6th Form. When someone rang up to book a squash court I went to tell them that we didn’t have any available & instead, accidentally told them that we were “bully fucked”

26. I’m an atheist

27. My tattoo says “Ancora Imparo” which means, “still, I am learning” and is a Michaelangelo quote. The bee that goes with it is to remind me of Manchester & is based upon the mosaic in the Town Hall

28. My next tattoo is already planned & I shall get it in 2010

29. I’m a pretty good dancer.

30. I miss my dog, Linus

31. My home town is 7.5 miles from Manchester City Centre, and has a population half that of Dublin (City, not County)

32. I have been in love once. He’s still one of my very best friends

33. I have never had a fight (except with my sister but that doesn’t count)

34. I make a seriously good Sunday lunch with real, home-made gravy

35. My earliest memory is going to meet my sister in the hospital when she was born. I don’t remember her being there, all I remember is my mum giving me a new doll & a packet of dolly mixtures (apparently from the aforementioned new sister)

36. I have a father & a dad – a subtle but important difference. A father is genetic, but a dad is much, much more

37. I get my curly hair from my father

38. I get my cynicism, love of early 80s pop & a lot of my mannerisms from my dad

39. I once hailed a cab at 3am on a Saturday morning (post night out) on Oxford Road in Manchester, by flashing my bra. Just to prove to my doubting best mate that my boobs could stop traffic

40. I’m a little bit scared of the dark & always turn the light on before I go into a room.

41. I’m a good swimmer, but I don’t like swimming in the sea

42. Until I moved to Dublin I had never rented  a place to live. I bought my first property when I was 22

43. I accidentally swallowed the first of my milk teeth to fall out

44. Shortly after moving into my 1st flat, my Gran & Granddad bought me a Winnie the Pooh Easter Egg (it was Easter). My Granddad told me, on the phone, that it would be the last one they bought me, because as a home-owner I was now officially a grown-up & didn’t need Easter eggs any more. It was the last Easter egg that he bought me as he died several weeks later. I still have the Winnie the Pooh toy that came with it. It’s one of my most cherished possessions

45. My Dad is a direct descendant of Sir Thomas More

46. I’m not very good at asking for help. I don’t like putting people to trouble

47. I can fit 2 whole packets of refreshers into my mouth. Fizzy!

48. I know all of the words to Rapper’s Delight. The full 14 minute version

49. I don’t believe in vegetarianism

50. I do believe that you should only eat what you would be prepared to kill. I genuinely think that if I had to kill a cow/pig/sheep etc then I would.

51. I hate coffee. Really hate it.

52. But I do love tea.

53. When I was born the nurses in the hospital thought I was jaundiced and put me next to the window. They didn’t think to look at the colour of my mum & consider that I too, may just have olive skin

54. As a toddler, I once spent an afternoon trying to teach a worm to jump onto a frisbee by repeating the phrase, “Jump Wig, jump”. Wig being short for Wiggly Worm.

55. I can’t handle it when people leave their cutlery askew after a meal. Cutlery has to be put at “4 o’clock” on the plate, fork on the left, knife on the right, with blade facing inwards. I will probably fix it for you or sit there feeling really uncomfortable.

56. I like to do random acts of kindness. Try it, it’s a great feeling

57. Since being a baby, I have never spent a night in hospital

58. My favourite sound in the world is that of heavy rain on the window (when I’m inside)

59. I sometimes sleep with my eyes half-open & rolled back. This has been known to freak people out.

60. I have very, very small ears

61. I apparently have an IQ of 136, yet remain one of the most stupid people I know

62. I can’t function without regularly getting 9-10 hours sleep a night.

63. I think people take life too seriously & don’t make enough time to be silly. Regular silliness makes life easier & much happier. Well, in my opinion anyway

64. I can laugh at myself. And do. Regularly

65. The first gig I ever went to was to see Paul Weller at the Apollo in Manchester. I was 17. I got one of his plectrums off a security guy. I still have it.

66. The best gig I ever went to was to see the Flaming Lips at the Manchester Academy circa 2002.

67. I have a three strike rule with people. Third strike & you’re out. Dead to me.

68. My idea of romance does NOT include cards/flowers/gifts on Valentine’s Day. I’d break up with someone for that. Leave me a note in the steam on the bathroom mirror just because and I’ll love you forever

69. I laughed when I got to this one. Because I have the same sense of humour as 12 year old boy.

70. I have been to see three mediums (is the plural of psychic mediums, psychic media?). One of them was rubbish but fun, one was “meh” and the other was uncannily accurate, despite me remaining mute for the duration. Still freaks me out to think about it.

71. I support the Cincinnatti Bengals (that’s American Football btw) because it’s my dad’s team & he taught my sister & I to love the sport.

72. As a child, I named my goldfish Frog, because a member of New Kids On The Block had done the same. I don’t usually tell people the second part of that.

73. I cannot draw. At all. I am heartbreakingly poor at it

74. I don’t like to show weakness. I will rarely let somebody see me cry

75. I laugh very freely, at almost anything, in real life. Yet TV & films etc will rarely get me to actually laugh out loud. It just doesn’t happen.

76. I like to think that I’m an open book and what you see is what you get. This is not true. I am a walking contradiction.

77. I don’t tend to read a lot of fiction. I’m a huge fan of historical biographies.

78. My favourite books of fiction are: Madame Bovary – Flaubert; Vile Bodies – Evelyn Waugh, Birdsong – Sebastian Faulks & Any PG Wodehouse

79. My favourite non-fiction books are: Hokkaido Highway Blues – Will Ferguson, Stalingrad – Antony Beevor, Arther Conan Doyle: A Life In Letters – Stashowr, Lennenberg & Foley; & MOAB is my Washpot – Stephen Fry

80. I’m 5ft 10ins tall & have size 6 feet, making my feet small for my height. I believe this has a lot to do with my poor balance.

81. I don’t have a burning desire to have children. Never have had.

82. I own 43 pairs of shoes

83. My favourite food is my mum’s lasagne. I’ve almost cracked the recipe myself now.

84. I won’t tolerate emotional blackmail in any form. It’ll guarantee you a fastrack to your third strike

85. I also have no time for people who wallow in self-pity & refuse to try to address their own problems. Nobody is going to fix your life for you, so stop moaning & start doing it yourself. Or shut up moaning about it.

86. I am aware that points 84 & 85 make me sound like a heartless bitch. This couldn’t be further from the truth, but there are exceptions to every rule

87. When I was ten, my sister, my two cousins and I wrote to Jim’ll Fix It, to ask him if we could do on the Goonies’ adventure trail – play the bones, slide down the tunnel, find the treasure etc. We used our special Garfield paper. He never replied to us. Doddery old twat!

88. I broke my finger when I was 27. I was wearing 4 inch wedges, walking on cobbles, texting someone whilst turning to talk to somebody behind me and I fell. I was also drunk.

89. When I broke my finger, I was wearing a T-Shirt that said “C is for Crack Whore” in gold writing across the chest. I became acutely aware of this when I got nudged awake by a junkie in A&E at 3am, because she wanted to sit down & I was sprawled across 3 seats.

90. I can hear a TV that’s left on standby, in the next room. Drives me barmy

91. If there’s a big storm in the offing, I can also hear the static in the air, and will inevitably get a nosebleed a few hours before the storm starts

92. When I first moved to Ireland I didn’t like Guinness. My parents came over with me to move my stuff. My dad insisted we find every pub within 5 mins walk of my new flat. He then insisted I drink Guinness. Several pints later I insisted we get some food before I went under. I’ve been a confirmed Guinness drinker ever since.

93. If I straighten my hair it affects my personality & makes me a bit of a wall flower. It also makes me less easy to spot in a busy bar

94. As a teenager, I once snorted brandy off a spoon, believing it to get you drunk more quickly. It mainly just burned the inside of my nose and came straight back out again. Only messier

95. My idea of a perfect Sunday is a really long dog walk to blow away the hangover cobwebs, followed by a long, leisurely brunch, interspersed with newspaper reading and Noel Coward, Cole Porter & Ella Fitzgerald music in the background. Followed by a doze on the couch, snuggled up to someone special, before ending the day watching Poirot, then retiring for an “early night”.

96. I am fiercely loyal to those I care about

97. I have a mischievous streak a mile wide.

98. I can’t handle whispering. It seriously creeps me out.

99. I don’t really like chocolate. Savoury over sweet every time.

100. I don’t like tights. They’re the ugliest item of clothing ever invented. I’m a hold-ups girl, but have also recently discovered how fab stockings are. I heartily recommend them to girls everywhere.

101. I can roll my tongue three different ways.

Well, there you go then. Over to you Amy

While sitting in the middle of the floor, surrounded by the detritus that apparently sums up my life, I got to thinking about how little of it I give a genuinely care about (shoes & books aside, of course, I have too many of both and an irrational resistance to getting rid of any).

I started thinking about the old, “what would you save if your house was on fire?” question. Aside from the fact that if my house was actually on fire, I would wouldn’t actually give a shit about saving any of it, as frankly saving my own ass is more important, there are a few things that I would be heartbroken to lose.

• My Dad’s thesaurus. About 30 years old and falling to pieces – in fact there’s a whole chunk of the S section missing, but I’ll never part with it.
• My Winnie the Pooh beanie. The last thing my Grandad gave me just before he died. It came with an Easter egg, which was to be my last because I’d just bought my first home and was apparently, therefore too old for Easter eggs. He died about 6 weeks later.
• A picture of my sister and me, when we lived in Canada. A rare moment of sisterly affection & not arguing miraculously caught on camera.
• The ring my Mum & Dad gave me for being a bridesmaid when they got married. Doesn’t fit me sadly, as I’m no longer a ridiculously skinny 12 year old.
• This painting’s a recent acquisition, but one that I really love. I like to imagine what the two old guys are chatting about. Really need to get it framed though.

As for the rest, well, I’ve decided to have a huge de-cluttering session. Probably chuck a few of the pricier bits on Ebay and the rest I’ll give away to charity or take to the Bring Centre to recycle. Minimalism shall be my new middle name.

Wetter than my pocket? No way man, it's beyond comprehension!

So the country’s pretty much under water today and poor Cork’s closed after serious flooding. I hope everyone’s OK and safe and that nobody develops trench foot. Or gills. Or webbed feet. Though the ability to breathe underwater is always good to have

These guys might have the right idea though. Put a roof on the gaff.

pic via Dropular

One of those random phrases that’s popped up and entered the modern vernacular. It’s a celebration that we’re all half way through the week. Now, I’m all for finding a silver lining in life but really? I mean come on now. We’re actually celebrating this?

Personally whoever coined the phrase “Hump Day” needs a bit of a dig in the ribs. Overselling it much?

Hands up who first thought that this was either a) National Hunchback Awareness day, b) a day each week where we’re all encouraged to, well, hump or c) a celebration of my humps, my lovely lady lumps? (well not mine specifically – I mean they’re good but they’re not that good! )

What a load of old shite.

I have been on precisely two dates in my entire life; one because I felt mean turning someone down when I was in 6th form and the second about 2 years ago as a “training date” to get myself “back into the game” after breaking up with a VERY long term boyfriend. The rest of the time I’ve just met people, hung out with them and either got it together or not. Standard.

Anyway, I’ve been single for a decent while now and naturally my thoughts occasionally turn to the idea of, well, not being single. Unsurprisingly my friends and I discuss all of this kind of stuff; comparing notes on the boys we meet, sex we have, dramas that unfold, heartbreaks, disastrous dates and all that jazz. There’s not a lot we don’t tell each other really.

Some of my friends have been single longer than me and are pretty keen to find a bloke, some are more laid back about it, but on the whole they are all  a LOT more pro-active than I am about finding a “significant other” (there’s a fair chance this post will be littered with wanky phrases like that by the way).

They’ve all given the whole, speed-dating, online-dating, blind-dating thing a whirl with more than a few cautionary tales to share as a result. Only a couple of months ago 5/6 of my closest girlfriends were all giving the online dating thing a whirl; the other one in a new relationship, so had suspended her membership. All of them were telling me to do the same and were fairly shocked at my outright rejection of the idea.

The problem I have with the notion of online dating is many-layered.

To begin with, for me there’s something inherently unattractive about a bloke who puts himself on a site like that. I’m aware that this is a huge prejudice and in no way grounded in fact – some of my very good male friends have been online dating, and with a modicum of success. Each of them is also definitely on the above average side of attractiveness too. However, I can’t help feeling it’s not a very masculine thing to do (my male friends aside obviously! ).

Plus, I think it’s cheesy, like super-naff. Pre-tinterwebz I wouldn’t have gone to a dating agency either and I don’t really see the difference. Less of the awkward interviews with agency people & cringy video making perhaps, but still, not good.

I am also incredibly cynical (though not quite as much as the hilarious Camiknickers just yet) and am not really great at judging tone when it’s written by someone I don’t know very well. I’d veer from feeling hugely creeped out to thinking I was having the piss taken out of me.

The final reason is that I’m just not that bothered. I don’t believe in “looking” for someone. I’d rather just let nature take its course. People also, largely seem to think you either have to be single or in a relationship, with no middle ground, which fucking TERRIFIES me!

This is where, perhaps, the American dating culture has it right – what’s wrong with going with the flow and just seeing where life/love/lust takes you? Surely if you meet “the one” (wanky phrase no. 2) or even “the one you like most for know” (wanky phrase no. 3) then you’ll simply forego the other people you’ve been seeing; but until that happens, you can just see who you meet & want to spend time with, and hopefully have a hell of a lot of fun along the way. That’s my plan anyway.

Now, just to figure out how to do it without the whole, awkward dating element :-/

Behold its majestic, slightly offensive, not politically correct & sporadically funny self.

Come on in & enjoy yourself. Despite your conscience, you know you want to.

Sorry mum

Don’t get me wrong, this is a good thing. Having a little network of really close pals is great. However, it’s tricky when they mainly live in another country. It can get a bit lonely when the people you’re used to sharing stuff with with – laughs, adventures, heartaches, scandals etc – aren’t mere minutes away.

I’ve been in Ireland just short of 18 months now and in that time I’ve met loads of really fantastic people. It’s true what they say (whoever “they” are, and “they” tend to say an awful lot)… but yes, it’s true what they say about the Irish being very friendly. Indeed, the vast majority of people you meet really are very friendly; interested in why you moved here, how you’re settling in, what you think of it all so far etc. And there it ends.

Where it’s quite tricky is making the step change from someone who knows lots of friendly people, to someone who’s built up a network of lovely friends, including some of the really close variety (not that kind of close, dirty mind!)

For me this takes a bit of time. People don’t tend to know quite what to make of me when they meet me initially. I kind of stick out like a sore thumb for starters; I’ve never been very good at blending into the background. I don’t really look like most girls, I don’t talk like most girls (largely because I swear like a navvy!), I’m not particularly subtle (to look at or to listen to) and am generally a bit “different”. All of this can mean that I also seem to be unapproachable and a bit intimidating at times apparently.

The odd thing is that yes, while I appear to be all of these things, I’m also a  massive jumble of contradictions. Not in my opinions and the like, but in other ways.

So while I’m the loud, pint swilling, non-PC, potty-mouthed, joke cracking seemingly confident girl in the room, I’m also quite shy, self-conscious and bizarrely somewhat timid. I’ll happily be the performing monkey in a situation and make everyone laugh, because fuck it, I’m funny But it always shocks me when people realise that I’m quite shy underneath it all. I always think it’s incredibly obvious.

So, because of all of this, and no doubt a myriad of other factors, I don’t tend to make really good friends very easily. I don’t let a lot of people in you see, to get to know the real me.

But then every now and then I meet someone who just gets me. Who thinks I’m fun and funny, interesting and good company, yet sees the other sides to me and accepts them too. And in turn lets me get to know them a bit better as well.

Recently I’ve made two very, very good friends and I love them to bits. They’re as silly as I am which is a real bonus, but they also “get” the real me.

Which is why we get drunk & I let them do stuff like this to me…

Thanks boys. Love you loads! Mwah!

I’ve been toying with the idea of giving up smoking recently. Much to the joy of several close friends and my parents I’m sure. Not for health reasons, or even financial ones, but just because I feel like I might. I’ve long had an off/on relationship with smoking. I really like smoking, controversial possibly, but true, and yet sometimes I get bored and just don’t bother.

As it stands I haven’t had a cigarette since last Friday. Not through any conscious effort, just sometimes I can’t be arsed & forget about it altogether. Maybe I’ll not bother again, maybe I’ll just regress to becoming a social smoker again, maybe all this talk of smoking will have me sparking up the minute go outside. Who knows.

Mind you, if they really did reveal hidden laser traps there’d be NO way I’d give up. Lasers are cool. Fact.

Image via ffffound.com

Easier said than done, but worth the effort

And you have got under my skin. And that pisses me right off.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=9AgGxjN-dZM