Tag Archives: cheer up

Road Trip!

Woohoo! My girlfriends are coming over this week and we’re all heading to Kinvara, Co. Galway for a weekend of fun & frolics.

Woohoo! Oh, I already said that, but fuck it I am excited, dammit!

I am so ready for a weekend with three of the funniest women on the planet. Sadly one of the world’s other top 5 funny women couldn’t make it as she’s doing a triathlon back at home – I know, I know, she’s mental, but we’re related so you’re not going to pretend to be surprised by that are you?

I like to think we’ll be really cool looking like Alicia Silverstone & Liv Tyler (and another hot mate like, er, Drew Barrymore or something) in the Crazy video, as we bounce over the potholes cruise along the road, but more than likely we’ll be doing stuff like this as we drive along.

romymichele

Cut loose! Footloose! Kick off your sunday shoes!

Especially as we’re off to a hooker festival!

So, to get to the point (it always takes me a while), I’m pulling together a playlist of songs for us to singalong to. So far, tracks include, the following, but I would love to know if there’s a seriously awesome roadtrip track that you think I’m missing, please leave a comment below…

  1. Needle in a Haystack – The Velvelettes
  2. Black & White Town – Doves
  3. Don’t Stop Believing – Journey
  4. War! – Edwin Starr
  5. The Reeling – Passion Pit
  6. Tribute – Tenacious D
  7. Got to be Real – Cheryl Lynne
  8. Woke Up This Morning – Alabama 3
  9. Summertime Clothes – Animal Collective
  10. The General Specific – Band of Horses
  11. Walk Like an Egyptian – The Bangles
  12. Push It – Salt & Pepa
  13. God Only Knows – The Beach Boys
  14. Hanging on the Telephone – Blondie
  15. Across 10th Street – Bobby Womack
  16. Cancel on Me – Bombay Bicycle Club
  17. The Seed 2.0 – The Roots
  18. Tiger Phone Card – Dengue Fever
  19. Road to Joy – Bright Eyes
  20. Moi je Joue – Brigitte Bardot
  21. Lloyd, I’m Ready To Be Heartnbroken – Camera Obscura
  22. Superstar – The Carpenters
  23. Race for the Prize – The Flaming Lips
  24. Whoo! Alright-yeah… Uh huh – The Rapture
  25. Build Me Up Buttercup – The Foundations
  26. Laid – James
  27. Waterloo – Abba
  28. Dress You Up – Madonna
  29. Boys Don’t Cry – The Cure
  30. Ask – The Smiths
  31. Rudie Can’t Fail – The Clash
  32. Love Child – The Supremes
  33. All I Need To Get By – Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrel
  34. Womanizer – Britney
  35. Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough – Michael Jackson
  36. You’re so Vain – Carly Simon
  37. No Good Start The Dance – Prodigy
  38. Me & Julio Down By The Schoolyard – Simon & Garfunkel
  39. True – Spandau Ballet
  40. Dog Days Are Over – Florence & The Machine
  41. Afternoon Delight – Ron Burgundy & The Channel 4 News Team
  42. Psycho Killer – Talking Heads
  43. Bette Davis Eyes – Kim Carnes
  44. I Wanna Dance With Somebody – Whitney Houston (that one’s going to hurt a lot!)
  45. Dog Train – The Levellers (a new on on me, but we’ll give it a whirl nonetheless I’m sure!)
  46. …???

So, please let me know what songs you think we should add to the list – it’s a fair old drive, so we’ll need a few.

The light blue ones are the add-ons I’ve already received – thanks guys. More please, we want to be hoarse by the time we arrive ­čśë

In return I’ll share the embarrassing stories (about them, not me you understand) that occur over the course of the weekend and lead to pics like this and this. And if you’re lucky I might even tell you what the “Mystical Web of Secret Toilet Love Is” – needless to say it is already a Kinvara legend

Can you tell I’m looking forward to this trip much? Hmmm…

Everything is amazing, nobody is happy

Note to self (and to all of you too) – Be more grateful. We’re a bunch of lucky f*ckers really.

“Give it a second! It’s going to space!”

Just because

Disconnected

No, not my gas… or the leccy… or the phone. It’s not one of “those” posts. More just me in general really.

Not sure what’s up with me of late, but I’m feeling a bit out of sorts. Like I’m walking around in a bubble. I can see everything that’s going on but feel like I’m watching it all through a slight haze & can’t quite get myself fully involved.

I'm a bubble girl, in a bubble world, Life in plastic, it's... er, a little disorientating actually

I'm a bubble girl, in a bubble world, Life in plastic, it's... er, a little disorientating actually

There’ve been a fair amount of ups & downs going on in Curlydena World of late which have all factored into create this feeling: upheaval at work, tonsilitis the other week and then a mad dash back to Manchester on Sunday for a couple of days for a bit of a family emergency & several long hours sitting in a hospital & generally just fretting a lot, and then back on the ferry to Dublin in time to be in work on Wednesday.

So, now I’m left feeling like I’m permanently zorbing, but without any of the fun, giddy “ooh, wahey, look at me, I’m running around in a giant bubble” goodness.

I’m sure I’ll shake it off soon enough. Probably after a weekend of lie-ins, red wine, Mad Men, Scorcese films, Mock the Week & more red wine. Sounds like a plan to me.

And if nothing changes and I still have this bizarre bubble around me, then I guess I’ll just have to look on the bright side, and realise that now at least I can be my usual clumsy self but without the risk of quite so much injury and less regular bruises about my person – I often have the knees of a 9 year old who’s no good at hopscotch combined with the shins of a footballer who forgot to wear shinpads when playing against Roy Keane circa 1997. Not the most attractive feature on a girl of, ahem, 30… I mean twenty-something*.

Got to look for the silver lining after all ­čÖé

* I know, I know, I don’t look it.

It’s a nice thought…

tomorrow morning

via ffffound.com

There’s something really lovely about this thought. What with the “current economic climate” and the rest of the bollocks that’s going on out there; the ups & downs of love (not the ins & outs, that’s just lust), and the endless opportunities for worry and stress that the world holds.

As a cab driver wisely reminded me last week, it’s all too easy to worry about the future and completely forget to enjoy or even experience the now.

When you think about it all though, you don’t know what’s around the corner. (unless you’re some kind of psychic, but then even I know what’s around the corner for you my dear – care in the community!) Who knows what the future will bring? Could be utter shite, but it could also be fucking awesome… and if you’re really lucky, some awesome fucking.

The only thing you can count on is that the sun will set on today, and will rise on tomorrow. So don’t sweat it. What will be, will be. I ┬álike the idea that the future is unknown… plenty to look forward to! ­čÖé

Murray-mania makes me want to kill people

OK, so that might be a slight exaggeration, but only slight mind you. I just don’t get it. Tennis just isn’t one of the sports where patriotism plays a massive part – except every time Wimbledon rolls around that is.

I mean, jeez, almost every girl I knew when growing up was a massive Steffi Graf fan, but I’m English, we’re supposed to hate the Germans, almost as much as we hate the French. It’s practically genetic. But no, we all loved her, and rightly so, she was fucking brilliant – and not bad to look at either to be honest (though that was more a justification for her male fan base than anything)

I just don’t think nationalism really has a place in individual sports. I tend to support whoever I think is the best player.┬áI’ve supported tennis players who are American, German, Czech, Spanish, Serb/Hungarian (that’s Seles btw) and yeah, some British players (though never the faux British, but really Canadian ones. That frankly was a bit too desperate even for me). Over the┬álast few years my favourite players have been Nadal & Djokovic for example. I like the way that they both play, I like the way that they handle the media circus around the game and the fact that they seem to genuinely appreciate their fans’ support.

All of which are totally unlike a certain spoilt, grumpy, android-esque Scottish/British player of note. Step up Mr Andy Murray.

Ooh look I've won a trophy, let joy be unconfined!

Ooh look I've won a trophy, let joy be unconfined!

Now, because I’m British I’m expected to want this moany arsehole to win Wimbledon, because that too is quintessentially British… er, I mean English… but he’s Scottish… Oh yeah, it’s British, definitely British.

Well bollocks to that thanks all the same. Why should I? He does absolutely nothing to evoke any support from me whatsoever. Now, I could bring up the whole “I’ll support anyone that’s not England in the World Cup” story… and in fact I just did.

So let me get this straight, you hate England but you’re still British, standing shoulder to shoulder with England, Wales & Northern Ireland? Ooh, what’s that smell in the air? Oh that’s it, it’s the distinct whiff of┬áhypocrisy┬áthere methinks.

But it’s not just that. He’s a miserable sod. Watching his match last night he was struggling to beat (the totally unknown) Swiss player, Wawrink, yet the crowd on centre court were cheering him on as though he was already in the final and about to make all of their collective wet Tennis dreams come true. Cheering so loudly it’s going to put off the best of players, and no doubt affected Wawrink’s play. It sure as shit affected Murray’s.

So when asked by the BBC reporter at the end of the match how great it was to have this huge support, the guy could barely muster a good word to say about them and when he did he sounded almost as disingenuous as Tony Blair on a good day. He’s a fucking robot with the emotional capacity of Rainman. You might not like the support Andy, but don’t pretend you do. If you do like it, show it for fuck’s sake.

If he does win Wimbledon (and I am praying hard to mystical teapot orbiting the sun that he doesn’t) he won’t have the depth of emotion to cope with it – cue a monotonous acceptance speech and ENORMOUS anticlimax. As most of Britain, not just Scotland, but Britain, wanks themselves into a frenzy at this historic event and the BBC literally tear themselves in two from the sheer strain and effort of giving birth to a level hyperbole the likes of which we’ve never seen before and which may very well shift the earth off it’s axis, he’ll be struggling to elicit a tear, or a thanks, or anything of any note really.

I could go on and on for days, but I won’t. Can’t be arsed really. Needless to say I am counting the days until someone knocks the miserable prick out – either via a tennis match or even better, via a racket straight to the face. In the meantime┬áI’ll be supporting the players that are well, just better.

Grow Up

Stop being such a silly, fucking cow.

So I snapped at you. Big deal.

It was over two weeks ago for fuck’s sake. It was late, I was hot, I was tired and you were looking for me to fix something that was frankly unfixable at the time.

But no, I shouldn’t have snapped at you and I am sorry and I’d have said it to you if you had told me that you were even the slightest bit upset. But now… now you’ve just dicked me right off.

Rather than tell me I upset you, you haven’t even had the balls to tell me that I upset/annoyed/bothered you. Instead you’ve decided to act like a child and become the Supreme High Empress of Passive Aggression; blanking me when I try to make conversation, or giving me monosyllabic answers when I give you no option but to reply to me; sneering at me when I speak, and CONSTANTLY contradicting whatever I say, just for the sake of it.

I swear, if you turn around & tell me that the sky is green and leaves are orange and my hair is straight I will be in no way shocked. Although I will be forced to hit you upside the head with a frying pan, Vic & Bob style. Badoooiiiinnnnngggggg!!!!!!

Sooner or later, you’ll grow up. Sooner I hope because you need to, as frankly you’re too old to act like a spoilt little brat. And I for one am far too old to entertain this nonsense.

GROW. THE. FUCK. UP.

I challenge you not to…

…bob your head, sing along, tap your toes, smile, feel happy & smiley when you listen to this bit of loveliness.

From my new favourite band Camera Obscura‘s new album, My Maudlin Career, it’s the perfect song for a sunny Friday, and a Bank Holiday one at that – wahoo! ­čśÇ

Anyway, I hope you all have a lovely weekend (Bank Holiday or not) and that you get to enjoy a spot of sunshine. Roll on Monday and dubious tan marks all around.

Oh yeah, and special good luck to Joe who’s running the half marathon in Cork on Monday – Go Joe!

Uppers

I am a bit all over the place this week after taking a fair old emotional kicking of late, what with one thing and another. I had planned to write a post about Bone Marrow transplants, and very probably still will, but it’s all a bit overwhelming at the moment so I’m going to hold off for a while.

So, I’m on the lookout for things to make me cheer-the-fuck-up. And rapidly.

Here’s a short list of things that have managed to spark a little seratonin production within my good self, so far today:

Comic goodness

Fluffy Evil Chicken Genius

The musical equivalent of ┬ávodka – makes me feel a little smiley and also makes me believe that’s it’s OK to just get up & wipe my feet on the rhythm rug, regardless of where I am!

And because I will never ever stop laughing at the total whack jobs that go on Total Wipeout. I thank you all from the bottom of my heart for a) having no shame at all, b) giving it a go when it’s clearly doomed to fail (could teach us all a thing or two!) & c) making me think that actually I wasn’t as bad at P.E. as I thought at the time. To Total Wipeout contestants everywhere I salute you.

(apologies in advance for the god awful music though – sorry!)