Trying not to be a single girl with cats...

2010-09-19T21:08:00.005+01:00

I almost died once.

Standing on the edge of a cliff in Mallorca, it was windy and a little drizzly. We were looking at how the waves and sea had eroded the land. I was about two feet from the edge, with my back to the ocean. I took a tiny step backwards and lost my footing. I was on my way back over the edge when my pal grabbed my arm and pulled me towards him. If I'd fallen in, it was about 50 metres down and we were right above a wave cut platform. I'd have hit the cliff face with a huge force. When I realised what had almost happened, I felt giddy with exhileration, what had almost happened. The dolphins were released and I was shaking with fear and disbelief, extatic that I wasn't in the sea. Glad to feel the cool breeze on my face. Only the people who were right there, at that very moment knew it was a close shave. People thought I'd exaggerated the story for dramatic effect. I haven't.
Last Sunday, I faced something even scarier. I had signed up for the bigfoot, previous posts will give you an idea of how much of a struggle it would be. I was expecting pure hell, and I got it. The morning started badly. We were looking for a big museum, not a terrace and google maps took us all round Armagh so ended up a tiny bit late. Then the mega queue for the bathroom meant they started without us. After a few panicked moments we worked out where to go and saw yellow high viz vests up ahead. We walked through Armagh to Benburb, all I could think the whole time was 'the bear went over the mountain', a ridiculous song a guy called Tom Sweeney used to sing at school every xmas. We walked by lots of families who'd came outside for a nosy. One man offered fresh apples from his orchard, another family were singing! Then 2miles from Benburb we had a lovely lady offering to let us use her bathroom!
We had lunch and the second half was hard. Really hard. I had to keep stopping to stretch out my leg muscles. It was a pleasure pain thing- stopping was nice, but getting going again was so hard. I don't remember much of the second half, except seeing the sign for Moygashel, seeing the finishing point so, so far away on the horizion, having Stephen drive by every now and again checking on us, deep freezing my legs and running out of conversation with Laura. Seeing her mum at Dungannon Park helped her lots, she ran at one stage. Seeing her spirits lifted helped me. Walking into Dungannon was a pleasure/pain thing. I HATE Dungannon, I worked just outside it for a while, and it's a kip. A hilly kip. The finish line was at the very top of the town. It almost killed us getting there, but we made it. Sore, crying, wanting to die, hungry and tired but alive. We had walked 18 miles, defied the odds, Laura hadn't complained once even though she was so ill the week before, Laura had the biggest knee i've ever seen and both of us struggled to move our legs. I never did get the endolphins like I did on that cliff, I never felt that buzz of facing a challenge and kicking it's ass. Defying the odds and making it through. But I did discover a love for walking with Laura.
I owe huge thank you's to everyone who sponsored me, Stephen and Eugene, Rachel at Active Health (for without you I'd be unable to walk now, even if you did cause me extreme pain at the time!) and to everyone who tweeted while we were out. We read every tweet out, laughed at you all, and at some stages sighed in disbelief that your rubbish jokes Rob ;)
I also owe a mega thanks to Laura. Irrelevant of which one of us is to blame for the whole thing- I wouldn't have got through it without you. I wouldn't have even signed up. You're a wee legend but no to the Inca Trail...

This Week is a biggie.

2010-09-08T09:37:00.000+01:00

This week is a big'un for wee Flops. First off, I've moved house. Stay in touch for your invite for the guided tour and the imminent housewarming. I've lived with big bro for 4years now and it was time to fly the coop!

Next is a mad week in work. I *think* I have two full days out of the office. I am really busy and don't have time to train but it has to be done so I'll suck it up!

This week is also the anniversary of my dads death. The emotions that surround it baffle me. 18 years is a long time, and I'm completely adapted. My momma did a friggin brill job of raising us and I don't miss him as such. I do have all the crazy feelings of anger and resentment but then the reality of how desperate he must have been comes back to me and I feel sorreh for him. One of my training days is mental health first aid and there will be sections on suicide which I'll struggle with but I need to know all I can about it to help understand him.

Finally, I'm walking 18miles for charidee. I'm petrified. Scared I won't finish, scared I'll hurt myself (more), scared I'll let Laura (and everyone who sponsored me) down. But I'm gonna give it everything. My charity is Aware and even if I didn't work for them, they would have got it.

18 miles doesn't seem that long when you say it quickly, but it is FAR! I struggle most with aches and pains. I hurt my knees when I was growing up- the groove my kneecap sits in isn't deep enough so my kneecaps are very mobile. It means the can slide out of the groove a little (not full dislocation, called Subluxing patellas- it's quicker and less painful than full dislocation and it pops back into place itself!) and it's given me gip for ages. I also have muscle imbalances in my left side. My knee turns inwards, there is a muscle that’s really tight and a muscle in my butt that's not strong enough, so all combined, when I walk around 9 miles I start to fatigue and muscles get inflamed as they rub over each other. The more tired I get, the more my pelvis drops making the pain worse. Trying to think 'I have to walk with great posture' is ok when you're not mentally or physically drained, it gets hard after a few hours. Another thing is talking to Laura for upwards of 5 hours. I'm a chatterbox and I'm a nightmare to shut up, but we've been walking now for 7 weeks, at least three times a week and for 2 hours at a time. We see each other a lot. Therefore we're running out of conversation. Who'd a thunk that talking is something I'd struggle with. When we don't talk, it's much harder. Every step is a challenge.

This week we taper. Two short walks of 2 miles. And carb loading. I love carbs, this makes me so happy! :D

More walkies

2010-08-27T12:00:00.002+01:00

Training update-

I've managed pretty well this week, one 6 mile walk and a 7 mile one last night, all around the carriageway near Holywood. I was feeling amazing coming in from the 6 miles on Tuesday, all doubts had been lifted and we both felt great! Last night got a bit tougher. My hip was starting to hurt and the compeed just don't alleviate all the pain from Mega Blister. I'm going to try and get to a physio and have a gait analysis done before the walk, although I've only got two weeks and now is not the time to break in new shoes! Unless they're the fabulous velvet platforms from River Island!

This weekend is Lap the Lough, my buddy Lisa is doing it to raise money for Aware, so we're going to try and work our 12 mile weekend walk into the route for their 87 (!!!) mile cycle and try and get some pictures of Lisa! She's done so well, and you can sponsor her here- www.justgiving.com/aware (just find Lisa Millar).

Until Sunday, i'm going to rest my feets and hip. Wish us luck!

Walk in the park

2010-08-23T16:23:00.003+01:00

Sorry this is also off topic. Deal wiv it, alreet.

A few weeks ago, I started work with Aware. A few weeks later, somehow I said I'd do the Bigfoot walk. I still don't remember the conversation where my arm was twisted into doing it, clearly I was drugged and forced to sign up. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Anyone who knows me will know that I'm a lazysaurus. I walk. Around topshop, or to the kettle. Occasionally I have been known to walk to the shop. So why i'd sign up to do 18 miles is beyond me. To give you some context, 18 miles is Belfast to Lurgan, Coleraine to Ballycastle or in my case, it'll be Armagh to Dungannon.

I've been doing some training, the five milers are easy enough now, I finish feeling ok and last week I did eight miles, with only one stop for a brownie and some milk in St. Georges. Returning home with a tummy full of chocolate, I felt goooood. Exhausted and I spent the day asleep; but so good!

I did ten miles yesterday. I never thought I'd ever walk to Tesco Newtownbreda. But I did. And walked past it. And past Forestside. And into town. And home again. About two miles in, I started to feel it. I wasn't in a great frame of mind; like a plank, i'd managed to sleep in. I had breakkie and got myself sorted, but I wasn't rearing to go. So I struggled from the off. It's hard walking a route you usually drive, and know how far it is in a car. Combine that with the tell tale rubbing of shoes and a HUGE blister, made the first five miles hell. Over compensating for my sore foot (the co-op sticky plasters just weren't good enough) made my hips ache to the point where I was sure I was going to dislocate one. It's not natural to feel that much pain. I knew Laura was struggling too, we couldn't even talk to each other, except to shout profanitites which wasn't making it any easier for either of us.

The walk down the Ormeau road was easier, downhill and straight into a rest stop. We knew what was waiting for us. Still felt like a million miles. On the way home, I had to do a last minute detour down the Donegall Rd. I just felt I couldn't face the walk along the Lisburn Road to my house, knowing how far away we were. The detour added some distance but helped my santy. I'm no fittie, but it doesn't take it out of me too much physically to walk long distances- I do plenty of eating to make sure i've the energy for it. I've had problems with my knees for years and that makes it tough, the mental thing I didn't think I'd struggle so badly with and the general aches and pains when you walk so far just get worse and worse. I'm glad we're getting medical backup on Walk Day.

We made it home and I collapsed outside the house, unable to move. I took my shoes off and lay and cried for a while. The realisation that if it had been 'race day' I wouldn't have made it really knocked me for six. Knowing that i've already been sponsored lots is going to help me on the day. Laura is good- I don't want to let her down, but I really don't want to blog after the event and say I didn't make it. It's knowing I can't back out of it that really reminds me why i'm doing this. It's for the one in four who experience depression, and for the families of the people left behind after suicide, and to stop those people on the brink of suicide. Depression is implicated in 75% of all suicides, it really does kill people. In 2010, this shouldn't be happening.
Please sponsor me if you can. Everything helps me meet my target. www.justgiving.com/lorraineanthony

Yawn

2010-07-13T16:27:00.002+01:00

So I've passed my blogging anniversary, and guess what folks? I'm still single. I know it's a cliche, but I honestly couldn't be any less bothered. I have loads of other things to occupy myself, namely my first big persons, real life job, where I get my very own laptop, desk and lots and lots of changes I'm going to get to make. Nice an all as it is covering a maternity leave, I always felt like I had big shoes to fill and had to roll with the flow and not change anything. Now I can say that I want to do something, and suggest changes and because I am young and not taking over from someone, it all seems to go down a treat. Another lovely thing is our CEO. I've been so used to either having completely unapproachable bosses, where walking into their office feeling like you're entering the lions cage (and the lions are hungry and I have an open wound and they can smell the blood), or supervisors who think it's OK to quiz me about my sex life, or the people who I think are normal and could have a chat to, but everyone else in the office has them on a pedestal of unapproachableness that it's such a nice change to work in an environment where there is no hierarchy.
The other things that have been happening with me recently have been boring as ever. Going out and getting ridiculously drunk, shopping, drinking waaay too much coffee, thoroughly enjoying having the house to myself for a week, thinking about how to take over the world and sleeping far too much.
I also got my second tattoo recently. I don't believe in horoscopes, for the simple reason that they are cleverly written and open to interpretation. How can one short phrase be the same for one twelfth of the entire global population? Starsigns and name meanings are a different thing for me entirely. I'm a Pisces and I think the characteristics match my personality - 'The intuition of the Pisces-born is highly evolved. Many people associate Pisces with dreams and secrets, and it's a fair association, since those born under this sign feel comfortable in an illusory world'. Because of this, and the fact that I have a thing about dreams I wanted a tattoo about dreaming. I rarely dream when i'm asleep (or rarely remember them) but I do spend an awful lot of time daydreaming. It took a while, but I found a quote from Amelie, Les temps sont durs pour les reveurs that I fell in love with and struck a nerve with me. So I had it tattooed across my ribs. And it fucking hurt. A lot. But I would go and get it done again.

This is another ranty post about nothing, I keep saying 'oooh, i need to blog about that' but always forget what the post is about when I sit down with my lappy.

There's a package for you Miss Jugalot.

2010-05-28T16:22:00.003+01:00

This is what Ollie (housemate) sent in a text to me today. First thought, was wtf is with Miss Jugalot. Second thought, what have I ordered? Has someone gifted me a Mulberry Alexa? Have I ordered something in my sleep with my buddies credit card? (Joys of sorting tickets for people means I often have several sets of card details*). Got home and found a rather large envelope with my full name written on the front in a child's handwriting. It could only mean one thing. The Ex.

I've briefly mentioned him on this blog. Twat number 4. Basically, we met in first year of Uni. We did the same course but he was repeating. We randomly bumped into each other several times throughout the years but it was only when I cut my hair off did he stop and pay attention. Within a few months, we had nicknames for each other, our own silly language, constant private jokes and all the other things couples do. About 8 months into the relationship, I went out with my BFF David. The boyf's pals were all out too, at the same place. David and I get on like dicks sometimes and this particular night, I was celebrating that I'd missed the deadline for my dissertation- silly to go and get drunk, I know, but I handed it in a week late. All good. (Anyone want to know about how the quality of river sediment changes as it flows through an urban environment- I'm yer gal.) So back to the night in question- basically the boyf's pals all thought I was gonna make out with Mitch. Much as I love him, that'd be a little too incestuous for me. But that didn't stop these pals of him telling ma boyf I was making out with another dude. In fact, one of these pals (a chick) of his then went to another of my friends and said I'd tried it on with her. Erm luv, if I was gonna go all lezzer, I'd pick a hawt bird, not someone who looks like Dobby the house Elf.
Dave (the boy) didn't mention anything, came to my house hammered a few nights later. Said he was ditching me coz I cheated on him. I said his friends were wanks and so was he for believing them and promptly chased him out of my house, like a woman possessed. Then I collapsed in a crying, wailing mess and scared the fuck out of Paul.
The ex eventually realised he was a dick and we got back together. All was peachy for another few months till he stopped calling round coz he was at the gym. Or with his pals. Or had to be home by 7 to see his mammy and have dinner (and if he was 5 mins late the world would end). Or he had a new CD to rip onto iTunes. Or he had to dust his skirting boards. So I'd only see him when I went to his house. Which never had any heating. You'd see your breath when you were in bed. Oh, but he was toasty, coz he was surgically attached to a sleeping bag. At all times. Including when we were eating dinner.
I eventually had a moment of clarity when he was buggering off skiing for xmas and not once told me he was gonna miss me. He wasn't even bothered that he wasn't going to see me the entire festive season (like from mid December to the 2nd week of January). He refused to spend NYE with me because I mentioned I *might* be going out for a while with David. So I kicked him to the kerb. Didn't hear anything until my birthday two months later. Cue crying phone call. 'I've been a dick, blah blah. Delayed reaction blah, miss you blah, do anything you want blah blah.' And here's me. Nah pal. You were a wile dick. Too late. Stop calling me. I'm trying to get drunk. Quit ruining my birthday celebrations with your whingeing.

Didn't hear from him again until today. When he sent me this. Closeup of letter page one and page two. I'm glad to get my Planet Earth dvd's back. Almost bought the box set again on many occasions. Jeff, I have a few copies of, but this is the disk from the special edition so it will be returned to it's rightful place asap. I wrote a letter back. I wish him well. He was a dick to me, but he will find some bird who's happy to be low on his list of priorities. Or he'll cut the apron strings and man up. Either way, the letter was funny.

Phew, long post. Sorry for the rant folks. Tried cutting sections of the story out but couldn't do it.

*Please don't try and rob me for the card deets.

It's oh so quiet...

2010-04-29T12:50:00.002+01:00

Apparently my blog has been to quiet of late. This is simply because I have nothing to tell. Nothing to see here folks, move along. My reason for blogging was originally peer pressure (wind/wind?!) but the little lightning bolt has struck today and writing is going to be a nice way to clear my head.

Past few weeks have been rather good. After Twestival, Laura and I kept in touch and there are other projects in the pipeline. (Just had deja vu- even to the point where I remember having to go check the spelling of deja vu- brain tumor? Let's hope not). My days have consisted of the occasional box office shift, where generally I leave feeling pretty damn rubbish (office politics when there are so many people coming and going are hard to keep track of) but it funds my nights out and occasional shoe shopping trips. I'm still living in hope that someone will buy me a Mulberry Alexa.

I spend my days popping out for lunch, coffee, occasional trips to Vicky Square to drool over Alexa and looking for new jobs. If I was getting paid to be a bum- I would have found my dream job. My house has miraculously stayed tidier than I've seen it in a long time, there are always fresh flowers in the kitchen (purple freesia's this week), I come and go as I please, I've started working out again (if you can call 30 mins x-training working out) and I love it.

There have even been a few boys since I last blogged. Don't get excited. I took my lovely pal Rebecca to Omagh for the weekend. We had planned to do it for my birthday but with both our grandparents passing away in the same week in Feb, her modelling (!!), me working and other nights out planned it took us until April to get it sorted. So we hit the road, in true Thelma and Louise style. Complete with huge sunnies, leather trousers and high heels and headed to Omagh (via Dungannon Tesco- most stressful Tesco i've ever been in).

Night out started well, met my bitches, Ross and David in a bar (both of whom are now completely smitten with Rebecca), had a drink and a natter. I was soon approached by a "gentleman" I went to school with who told me he added me on Facebook because of my boobs. Then after throwing his drunk self across the back of Rebecca's chair, he proceeded to tell me he had won something at a rugby match and asked if I would be so kind as to let him motorboat me (accompanied by an example of how he'd do it). I can honestly say, I have never left a bar so quickly in all my life. I ran for the hills and learnt a valuable lesson. Country boys are idiots.

After the disaster in Bar 10, Rebecca was understandably freaked out. Until she was being chatted up by a guy in a club who told her that he liked to go sheep tipping. We then found the only hot boys in Omagh in the third place we went to- unfortunately they also turned out to be wanks and spent the whole night making eyes at us before pulling some skanks. Story of ma life. Lopsi see boy, boy see Lopsi, boy makes out with skank. Bad craic. Anyways, thats a bit of a rant about what to expect when you go out in Omagh.

We made up for a rubbishy night by watching Pineapple Dance Studios and having our faith restored in men by Louie Spence then spending the day having big lolz driving round the KFC drivethru twice, basking in the sun by the river and having my car washed.

Ranty post done. Least there was some man drama in there for y'all.

Awh shucks

2010-03-28T22:29:00.002+01:00

So as you all know, last week was Twestival. Laura and I pulled it off and i'm so super proud of us! It came along at a weird time for me, the day I first heard about it was the day my granny died so my head was inside out and upside down so I didn't think about it. Then I found myself with no 'real' job so figured I had nothing to lose by helping with a bit of PR. Things flipped about again when I was given Lead. It scared me more than anything had scared me before. As I got to thinking about it, I realised how much work was involved in an area that I had no experience in whatsoever- I mean, i'm the girl who loves bands, band boys, music and i've even dated a few band boys. But soundchecks, equipment, load in, bookings...that was all completely new to me. The day I met Laura, I had a bit of a flap. Twestival was two weeks away and there was no venue. There were no bands. Right until then, there was just me. Trying to not freak out when I had to stay in mums house alone for a week, running errands, trying to have even half a social life - I spent my evenings on the sofa with Maisie, my cuddly cat (cuddly by nature rather than fat), twittering and blogging about twestival- at that stage I could never have even dreamt about pulling it all together.

When it came to it, there were a few twits who really dug me out of a hole. Laura was literally my right hand woman. We've both probably got RSI from tweeting and texting from mobiles- we spent so long together in Clements I can tell you she prefers her tea in a mug, with a splash of milk. I like a pot, with lots of milk. She's my brownie sharing, life saving queen.

Abi is also a legend. She's the regional co-ordinator for the UK. She got lots of whiney, confused, begging, desperate emails from me, at all times of the day. We did skype calls, pow wow's and she bent over backwards to help us get lots of tickets sold in advance. So thank you Abi!

Leah and Kata were assisted by Karen and Claire from Concern- they let us get on with our thing, checking when pizzas were being delivered, cupcake dramas while they sold raffle tickets and made sure no one snuck in! We had so many sponsors, I'm just gonna link you to the Twestival Blog . Everyone on their was so so helpful and i'm sure our prize winners will be excited at the prospect of their noms, CD's and movie tickets! Our official photographer on the night was the brilliant Nico. He shot some beautiful pics and made me look human (mega kudos to you there good sir- I always look whack in pictures!). Here is his blog with a write up about the night, and here is the link to the photos on his Flikr site.

I can't think of anything else to say, other than- I want a job that allows me to organise events. Or to meet more amazing people. I think if i'd been drinking on Thursday night, every single person in that bar would have got a hug and a kiss from me! I left on a high (in a red van with Joe and Dominic from Seven Summits - thats gonna be my claim to fame when I hear them on't radio ;) ). I've learnt alot from this.
First off- everything is possible. Even if no paying twits had turned up, we had everything else to hand. Seeing one of the guys from Seven Summits walk in with a bass drum I almost died from excitement and adrenaline overload. Then the rest of the band. Then ANOTHER band. And ANOTHER. And the wonderful Nico, the Leah, Kata, Claire, John and Lesley from Slide, Gavin- every time another person showed up I got more and more excited.
Second - The generosity of people shows no bounds. It's more difficult to raise money and support for a charity like Concern, in comparison to something that is more urgent, like the Haiti earthquake appeal but we're expecting our final total for Belfast to be in the region of £500-£600. Not half bad for a nights work.
Third - the Marshmallow Grove cupcakes are officially the way to my heart.
Fourth - A surprising number of foxy boys arrived at Slide. Note to self: make singles wear stickers.
Fifth - If it all goes tits up, i'm robbing a bank and setting up an Events company. I'll even do weddings. If I have to.
Sixth - RAMS' Pocket Radio, Seven Summits and Cutaways are amazing. And Shauna from Silhouette was brilliant. If I get my way, we'll all get a catch up and plan our next joint venture!

I think thats enough now. I'm rambling. Go look at the pics. And listen to the bands.

Latest goings on!

2010-03-21T22:18:00.002Z

I've been a bit of a bum recently. I'm yet to find a new full time job, so i'm being a waster and just working in the Odyssey a few days a week. To be honest, I bloody love it. I didn't ever have that 'i'm finished uni and i'm going to do mid week drinking sessions and not find a job until I absolutely have to' period so i'm doing it now. I fill my days with long showers, tidying, laundry, This Morning and lots of tea.

I'm also one of the lead organisers for Twestival in Belfast. Basically, it's a charity event to raise money for Concern Worldwide. The cool thing about Twestival is that it's happening globally on March 25th- I just had a conference call with a few other organisers and it's so much more fun having a few people doing the same thing! It's also given me something to do on the days when telly's a bit rubbish!

I heard about Twestival last year when it was happening but wrote it off as a geeky thing. Now that i'm actually organising it, I've seen how non-geeky it is. We've got a few awesome bands lined up, a DJ who sounds like he's gonna be my new BFF (the promise of indie music combined with hip hop is something i'm digging) and a raffle full of prizes i'm actually gutted to have to give away!

It's only a fiver entry, for a night's craic and some board games (how fricking awesome- i'm gonna have a game of guess who and a magners to start the night in style) and it's not just twitter people who are invited!

For more info, and to buy your tickets go to http://www.belfast.twestival.com

What is wrong with them?

2010-03-17T16:29:00.003Z

I've always said that all boys are idiots, some more than others. In recent weeks, with John Terry, Tiger Woods, Ashley Cole, Howard Donald and the love of my life Mark Owen all fessing up to affairs, my opinions of these boyos has changed. Terry and Tiger- fair enough. I've always thought you pair were ballbags. Ashely, erm, you're married to perhaps the most stunning woman and you cheat on her? You're mental and need psychiatric help, or your eyes testing. Howard, you're such a scamp. But you were my least favourite one in Take That.

Mark though. (Lets note that I am crying real tears at this minute in time). I thought Mark was a lovely boy and if he was going to run away from his lovely wife, it'd to be with me. I can't look at him right now (we just had to turn the DVD off).

But it has taught me a few things. First off, I was right. They are all idiots. Second, it's popped my bubble that I need to date a nice boy. Fuck that. Bring me the bad ones. What's the point in women putting so much effort into finding boys who are nice when even the nice ones fuck a whole host of other birds? Mark's only saving grace is that he stopped banging round him when he got wed.

Happy birthday to me!

2010-03-07T23:48:00.003Z

I've just noticed that I've started at least three posts now with a greeting of some sort. Wonder what that says about me? Speaking of which, mum picked up a keyring with my name on when she was in Tenerife (you have no idea how hard it is to get things with Lorraine written on them- I really appreciate it when someone finds them for me!). It says 'a name taken from the French region. She is thoughtful, business-like and unpretentious. A straight forward lady; you know where you stand with her'. Today I picked up a copy of the Sunday Times. I like the supplements, so 120 pages of Style goodness sold it to me. And I found this inside- 'Blonde moment', An article written by AA Gill. 'All the associations for blonde were good. Who doesn't like a blonde? The Blonde was fun, liked to eat out, wore high heels and had a dirty laugh. She is witty and intense, quick to take offence and quick to make up. Blondes have opinions, swear and get jokes.' (This is possibly the most random tangent I could have gone on, and it has nothing at all to do with what I originally planned to blog about). Basically, I think at the minute, I'm definitely a blonde. Everyone has a different opinion on my hair colour. Right now, it's the closest it's been to it's natural colour in ages (there is no blonde at the back anymore) but what AA Gill says makes sense to me. I feel like a blonde. I like being blonde. I don't dye my hair to fit in, or be liked, or because of any social connotations that people may attribute with blonde hair. Some of the things he says, like the keyring just suit me. I read it, and I nodded. So, for the minute, I'm staying blonde. We really do have more fun.

So back to my original blog post-
birthday thinkings.
I had such a nice birthday. I didn't do anything. I went for lunch with my mum, I was woken up by my nephew, I sat on the sofa and watched rubbish telly and I eat cake. Of course there was some mayhem too- it wouldn't be a Lopsi birthday if I didn't go out. So the fabulous Rebecca, lovely Lynne and cute little Laura and I hit up Madison's. The ever lovely Dave made us birthday cocktails, which went down a treat! We sailed off on vodka cloud to Sketchy, where we danced and drank the night away (helped of course by birthday drinks from Rigsy - I cursed him something shocking the next day). Anyway, everything was great. Such a fun birthday night, even if I did spend the whole next day dying an absolute death!

Saturday night was Hockey in the S&A with David. After dragging him round town because I was stubborn (and a little unwilling to rush while getting ready) we didn't make reservations but ended up getting squeezed into AM:PM which happens to be one of my favourite restaurants! We headed to Hockey, my feet killing me after all the walking, where I had such an amazing time. The band were phenomenal. I absolutely loved every minute of it. Even David didn't mind going. We finished the night as drunken messes in the Limelight, where I stole a poster off the wall and danced with the band!

All in all, 23 kicked off in style. Nothing awful has happened yet, nothing I would even consider changing, several things I'd do all over again if I was lucky enough to get a second chance.

Happy V-Day

2010-02-14T22:40:00.002Z

Well, it's my second single V Day. Last year I called it Single Losers Day. This year, I haven't had much time to think about it. It's a 'holiday' I disagree with- and not just because I'm single. If I'm with a bloke, I don't want to guilt him into roses for V Day. I'd far rather have tulips (or any other flowers I actually like) on any other day of the year. As for the cards- I HATE how Clinton Cards reduce their usually good range of cards to make room for all the mush. I'm a fan of cards. I like buying them, and pride myself on finding the perfect one pretty quickly and I like to buy them for no reason rather than this whole guilt thing. This past week has been a nightmare and our house is full of cards, none of them covered in hearts or mush.

2010 so far has treated my wee family pretty badly, it's shown me better sides to some people but I wish I didn't have to see it. Already we've had two birthdays, one death in my immediate family, another in a close friend's family, a house move, a huge fundraising success, two of us looking for new jobs and in the next two weeks there are three more birthdays. It's a busy time in the Anthony house.

I had written a post on my mobile one morning a few days ago but didn't post it, mainly because it was unfinished but I'm going to keep it, just for me. My wee granny got a namecheck in a blog over xmas, she was such a great lady and she passed away on February 8th. She always had a cheeky grin for us, and saying something silly would remind her of a rhyme she learnt as a child, so I'm going to try and post them here when I remember them ( I know that if I attempt to write them on paper they'll get lost). Katie also constantly asked me if I had a man, it was her who provided the inspiration for the name of my blog- she told me I'd never find a man if I still have cats. I know if I told her about the blog, apart from being confused about what it is, she would have found it hilarious that I let everyone know I'm single by writing about it on the internet. She would also tell me i'm better off not getting married until i'm 30 and i'm too young to worry about being single. Well Kate, you're right. I am too young and i'm definitely not worried.

I know it's not about finding a boy...

2010-01-22T23:51:00.002Z

...but i'm more content being single now than I have in a long time. I don't know what's changed, I guess I feel that I need to be at home much more often which isn't leaving much time for anything but I like how things are now. Able to get into bed and chill with Lynne watching telly, listening to music when i'm in Belfast, not having anything to worry about and for some reason I'm not even looking for any hugs or snuggles!

Anyway, the main reason I decided to post tonight was to tell ya'll (probably the four people who read my blog coz they follow me on twitter) that i'm helping to organise a fun run in Belfast to raise money for the Haiti earthquake fund. (www.belfast4haiti.com for more info please folks...) but recently I had been thinking 'shit man, I shouldn't have done that masters, I don't know if PR is for me, i'll be rubbish at it, I'll never get a job etc etc'. My job is fine- there isn't anything I find taxing, it's not too boring, it's an alright atmosphere to work in and I get a nice feeling of satisfaction when I see the magazine in a shop but it isn't what I want to do.

When I started working with Austin and Lisa to organise the race and get us lots of press coverage, it made me realise that it is something I can do, and more importantly, something I enjoy doing. If it turns out to be just the charity side of it, then happy days, but whatever I end up doing, as long as I get the opportunity to do a little event management and I'm working for a brand that I like and believe in, I'll be happy.

My rundown of 2010 was deleted.

2010-01-05T22:23:00.002Z

Last night, I lay in bed (with the electric blanket on because my feet were freezing) watching it snow i decided to join in with everyone else who did end of year posts. I typed out a huge blogpost but because my pooter battery was dead, I did it as an email on my phone so I could just send it to myself and put it here (yes, there probably is a way of blogging from my berry but I don't care- I like my way) but when I sent it, mere moments ago, it delivered to the Berry and stupidly hit Delete on device and mailbox, like I do with all my spam. I did do a search but can't find ...
...Christ on a bike. There it is. I found it. Magic. Well folks, I'll leave you with the original post. (ps I really did think it was gone, that wasn't for dramatic effect or anything!)

I don't really believe in new year. Yes, it is a new year so therefore I've contradicted myself already. I should say I don't believe the hype surrounding a new year. Anyway, basically I don't think nye changes anything, 12midnight on 31st december is a miserable time for me. I don't know why. Maybe I'm mourning another xmas over for a whole year or I'm so pessimistic that I can't see anything spectacular happening in the impending 12 months. Just before the highlights of 2009, a not so good part was my poor wee granny spending xmas in hospital- meant xmas in the Anthony household wasn't much fun. The only reason I mention this is because not only am I gutted Katie is so ill, and has been for a full month now and most of the people I know realise how close we all are to our granny and how rubbish xmas and NYE was in our house but a few people have really upset me with a blatent refusal to give a shit. It would have been nice to show a tiny bit of concern. And it would have been lovely to have some compassion. Yes your xmas was lovely but mine wasn't. Don't rub it in.

That said, I wanted to do my highlights of 2009. My birthday in the Stiff Kitten bar on the Saturday (followed by Soapbox on the Monday) was a stand out good night! Was great fun. My holiday was also great, as was the introduction of lopsi to the world through twitter (and when Phillip schofield tweeted at me!) and meeting the tweeple irl was good too! I got to know Danny and Aaron (both mental and from London- purely internet relationship except when Danny and I get drunk and feel the need to talk). Anyway, since mid december we've had lots of snow. I love snow. Its snowing again. And it makes me happy. I've a fur coat and its so toasty the snow can't touch me! I also went to Manchester which was fun! And I had a good ole heart to heart with an ex (I was sober for a change) so we have to wait and see what happens there. Least this time I made some sense. Poor guy's been hearing it from drunk lopsi for years! Maybe we'll give it another shot, maybe not. Time and fate will tell. Either way, I'm happy. He's a great guy.

2009 was the year of great music, movies and nights out. Gemma and I in the limelight on a Friday is a stand out night! As were the nights recruiting for a dating show with niki. And Halloween when I was bondage barbie and not one person wanted to play was good (but too short). I made mistakes and bad choices but I dealt with it (so did everyone else), I drank too much and puked in work, I flirted ridiculously with a colleague, I met an ice hockey player and so totally would and not even coz he's a hero for giants fans, I was sick on one work night out, was hungover on the other, I got my blackberry and joined the yuppie world, I caught snowflakes in my mouth, I got obsessed with space, I made curtains, I wrote about weddings for a magazine and it was printed, I found my new fav foundation (smashbox), I wrote all this on my blackberry as an email, I laughed, I cried (lots and for silly reasons), I danced and I had a ball. Roll on the next twelve months. Whatever life throws at me, I'm fairly confident I'll knock it outta the ballpark coz I'm tuff as nails, innit. Well, after a mini meltdown maybe I'll start knocking it out of the ballpark. Now I'm missing celeb big bro and I need towels from dryer.
Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

Over and out.

Happy Anniversary!

2009-12-26T16:47:00.004Z

Well folks, Boxing Day marks a year of singledom. Last year, even though ditching my boyf was not particularly festive, it was a weight lifted from my shoulders! It's not bothering me at all that i've been single for a year either- I've done lots of things (some of which Lynne thinks I shouldn't have done because now i've no need for a boyf) like changing bulbs in my car and going out lots with people I've met on twitter (had some AH MAZIN nights with @noberts and @ladybolan) that I probably wouldn't have done if I wasn't single. With everything that happened in the run up to Christmas, i'm glad I was single- my mum needed lots of help in the house and a Mr would have been a distraction, although I would have welcomed it at times. It also worked well because I simply didn't have the time to buy many gifts (thank god for secret santas!).

Tonight, I'll be sitting infront of the fire with mum and Chris, probably making a few cocktails and stopping mum from swiping my cider. Everyone is away out but i'm not a boxing night fan so I'll head for a few drinks tomorrow night.

Merry Christmas and I hope all my readers, twitter followers and IRL friends have a great festive period and that 2010 brings lots of good things.

Nothin to see here folks...

2009-11-29T17:29:00.002Z

...keep on walkin.

Just decided to post to give me something to do, and i guess to pat myself on the back for a successful NoVember. After tearing it up too many weekends, getting drunk, walking up with the dread (or worse), suffering the Sunday Blues, Miserable Mondays, Teary Tuesdays and Woeful Wednesdays I took November off. I had No Vember. I cleared my diary as best i could and spent saturday nights infront of the box. I had a work function to go to so I went and didn't have a great time on one of the Saturday nights. The band were pretty hot but the average age of people there was 65 so I was hardly on the pull so it all worked out well.

Following week, going out plans fell through and I rejoyced. A busy night in the Odyssey then home to bed, Sunday was spent in Ikea (not as horrific as usual) then another weeks work. This weekend wasn't quite so good. A lovely joyrider nicked a car and managed to crash into mine during the night. Mega damage, needs new panels etc and makes an awful noise when going over any bumps so I'll need to be heading to work nice and slowly this week.

Impending, I have a weekend (and them some) in Manchester, seeing the sights and having mega nights out (and too many bus journeys for my liking). Following weekend is Saturday night out with work people from the Odyssey. The next week is graduation, that weekend is magazine work night out, week after is xmas. So all is mental.

All a little too mental, and despite Xmas being a great time to be one half of a couple, i'm still perfectly happy without a beard by my side.

Over and out.

All change

2009-10-29T21:07:00.003Z

Well boys and girls, I had an epiphany. Driving to work every morning means I have pleanty of time to chill, sing, laugh along to the radio, wish death on Chris Moyles (only sometimes) but a few days ago I recalled one of my 'mad nights with beards'. Of late, i've been going out with a few gals off twitter. (to the twitter world- ya'll know who they are; rest of world- don't worry, if I was going to be killed, i'm sure they could have done it already). We have a thing about boys with beards (now referred to as beard for short) and we like to drink waaay too much vod and then we tweet the next day to compare hangovers.

These mad nights, where I approach strangers asking 'Have you ever been on TV? No, fancy being on a dating show' and other ridiculous lines has reaffirmed the fact that i'm far too young to be settled down. Yes, I may yearn for a beard to snuggle on the sofa or fetch me KFC when i'm hanging, but for the mean time i'm more than happy to spend all my monies on booze and recall the nights of fun that I would only be able to go if I was single. And thank god I am, because it's an awful lot of fun!

My epiphany was given a helping hand by a guy. Well two guys. One is lovely and ever so nice but i'm just not that into him. The other. Well. He started off dead nice, all vay good on paper. Then he got really needy. And there is nothing like that to put a girl off. He even went as far as texting a mutual friend when I didn't reply to a text. He also sends those irritating texts that are looking for reassurance and I don't know him well enough to be his shoulder. And the final, and most worrying thing is the fact that we don't flirt at all. There is no funny banter, all texts are pretty blunt and to the point, and generally end with him moaning about something (yes, ok, I am a whinge but seriously, this dude is waaay worse than me). He also reminds me of my ex Mark. And he was a dick so guilty by association. Even 30% discount in one of my fav shops ever isn't enough to persuade me to reply to his text.

I've also just realised that this blog has now changed from a blog whining about me not having a guy to whining about the guys I do have. Oops. Anyway, this weekend is Halloween and i'm out with @noberts and David so we'll tear it up and see what shit goes down. boo ya.

I can't believe I forgot about this!

2009-09-21T10:11:00.002+01:00

Ok, some of my twitter followers probably know a little of this story but here it is, more for my records than anything...
Once upon a time, two girls went out for birthday drinks. Rebecca and I hit the House Bar in Stramillis and had planned to go out dancing after a cocktail. We arrived and settled in to seats at the bar (never a good idea) and we flirted with the barmen and got them to make custom cocktails (my key lime martini is better) and renaming others- who wants to drink a mangopolitan? Mangotini's are far more fun. Since it was Rebecca's birthday we were counting down the minutes until she turned 23 and making a fair bit of noise! After a while flirting with Chris (who's a doctor) the owner of the bar (Christine Bleakley's ex) came over to us and sat next to me. We were chatting away about how we both did PR and I thought he was an idiot for trying to make the Warehouse (on Boucher Rd) successful- his comeback? Well Tomb Street was out of city centre when I opened milk. No amount of me saying that I lived near the Boucher Rd and wouldn't step foot in it alone in the dark would change his mind, more fool him.

Shortly after the clock struck midnight, we reached for our mangotini's only to find Champagne and strawberries in their place. And not the type of champagne that tastes like cat pee, proper Veuve Clicquot and it was tasty. It was all like something from a James Bond movie- very slick and a little odd now that I look back.

So we drank our champers while the owner drank a beer. After a while, the bar closed and we stayed put. Next thing I knew, I was heading out the back door of the bar into a black range rover (such a cliche) and this dude (who btw, I can't remember his name) said he'd take us home. So Rebecca and I had drank too many cocktails and champagne and he was sober. At this stage I should have probably realised it was all a little odd. He ended up driving us to his house, somewhere near forestside. Nice house, all gated, 3 cars in driveway including a Porche. We went inside and started snooping. It was like an episode of Come Dine With Me. We were in his closet, in his bathroom, his fridge. EVERYWHERE!

Next thing I remember is stomping down the stairs and demanding that he calls two taxi's (because we live so far apart). No less than 4 taxi's trying to get into his gated house met us, me outside yelling at him to open the gates :S Next day, I realise he's really tried it on with Rebecca and we most definitely had a lucky escape.

Creepy creepy dude, bringing two drunk girls home after plying them with booze and him remaining sober then trying it on. I don't know if we can ever go back to the House, but Chris the doctor was lovely and worth another visit, so we shall see.

My google ads

2009-09-21T00:05:00.003+01:00

After my business partner Austin told me to get some google ads and start makin some dosh, I decided I better listen to him. I have only just looked at the ads. The first one is for toy boys. No thank you google. Bad experiences with those. The next one I saw was over 40's dating, the rest were for people looking for a girlfriend. Why are there no ad's for people like me. i.e. young and looking for men? Sort it out. I should be your target audience, I have a blog about being single for crying out loud...

Help!

2009-09-20T23:40:00.003+01:00

The man situation hasn't improved any of late. There are a few guys who i'm having text with but tbh, the fact that i'm just having text shows how uninterested I am. Harsh, but true. I am a dead flirty person, I can't help it, I think it's fun and I think i'm pretty good at it but at times like this, I wish I wasn't. It also doesn't help that i'm flirty with the wrong people. I find it easier flirting with the ones who I don't need to make as much effort with, either they're giving me the come on, or I just don't care what happens. It's a personality trait I don't like much, and the worst part is that I don't really notice it happening until it's too late.

I met a guy a few weeks ago and he is oh my god hot. Like the hottest creature I think i've ever ever seen and I think we're getting on well, it's mainly a text thing though- I don't know when I'll see him again but it is fun, and I get stomach leaps when he does text. There is a huge problem though- I appear to have (accidentally) attracted the attention of one of his pals. I don't know if it's paranoia or what, but I have the feeling they've been talking about me, and the hot hot hot guy has maybe stepped back a little. When I talk to the pal, I don't think it is particularly flirty but he goes a little further with things.

So what do I do? I can't tell either of them anything- there have been no kisses or anything and I don't know if either of them are really interested, or if it's just me being a fool. Either way, I don't want to piss hot guy off but I need to let him know in a subtle way that his mate is barking up the wrong tree without saying something like 'oh i flirt with everyone' which would totally give hot guy the wrong idea. eeek. What a pickle.

I need to shake off the pal (in the nicest possible way). Is the best approach to tell him about hot guy? Or tell hot guy about the pal? I guess for all I know, the pair of them read this and recognise themselves and we'll all live happily ever after. Or, since this is me, we'll all fall out and hate each other... but i hope not.

I can't be arsed...

2009-08-30T19:54:00.002+01:00

I can't be arsed with a lot of things right now, number one is writing a title for these shitty posts. Number two is being single with cats (in all seriousness, if anyone wants two cats, email me. I'm pissed off no end with the sight of the two wee fuckers). Number three is the pitying looks I got last night.

I was at a wedding of a colleague last night, we were all sitting around in our finery and the only blokes who showed any interest were either pissed as farts, country bumpkins, old men who were hiding from their wives or the ones with really awful hair. It really was enough to go on a wrist slitting frenzy. To make matters worse, my boss and my sister spent far too long telling me that I as never going to meet someone in a bar and that they'd hate to be in my situation. Well I don't like it much either. It's hardly what i'd call fun, hence the blog. I might take the piss out of the whole thing, but as much as this may make me sound like a desperado I am actively trying not to be a single loser for all eternity. So thanks for your words of wisdom but they are anything but helpful. Maybe in 10 years it will be a right laugh to look back at this blog and think how hilarious it was.

Bloody typical. Again.

2009-07-19T17:51:00.002+01:00

So I returned safely from my holiday, was lovely having all that time away but I did feel like I had a case of cabin fever. America is so big, and Florida so hot that you literally cannot go anywhere without a car. And since i'm only 22, I need special car hire so I didn't get to drive anywhere. I was relying on what the fam wanted to do, and I hate that. Plus, since it was so hot, I couldn't even walk anywhere! Anyway, it's not nice at all to be home. I'd sell my left kidney to go back.

While I was away there was a little drama. Lets not go into details, but I have another wing-woman. So i took her out for a quiet drink on Friday. I was told there was another pal meeting us in the bar with two american friends. I got dead excited at this, since it'd make me feel at home! At this point i'd like to mention the negative man love in America for me. I saw a handful of reasonablly hot guys, one did ask me out for drinks but I wasn't going boozing with a stranger. So one guy on friday night was a lovely guy who knew the place in Atlanta that my american family are from, the other one was a cutie from Tampa, about 40 mins from where I stayed. Long story short, I kissed cute american boy and had lots of fun but how bloody annoying that I find an american boy when we're both in Belfast. He's travelling the world and is in London and Dublin for a while. Then who knows where he's going. He may go back to the States, he may hang around here. But either way, it's not likely that I will see him again, but my fingers are crossed.

Bloody typical...

2009-06-30T03:34:00.002+01:00

So as many of my twitter followers know, I'm in Florida at the minute. This obviously meant a few (3 to be exact) flights and also a lot of sitting around checking boys out in airports. First flight was Belfast city to Heathrow and I was all cosy in my crappy seat when babe of all babes wanders down the aisle. Before I even knew what was happening, he was squeezing into the seat in front of me, beside my mum. She then begins to embarrass me, by trying to whisper that I should swap seats with her...emmm, no! Being a crazy plane lady, she starts nattering away to him! Turns out, he's Louis Walsh's business manager and is flying to London for X Factor rehearsals. Mum told him about my job in the ticketing business and he happens to know my boss and we have a few mutual acquaintances in the promotions companies! Alas, as always happens, he disappears down the Jetway, never to be seen again. Unless Cathy takes me to see Louis someday...

And as for Matt, in the words of @dinglesurf, Matt is a douche. It definitely was a case of him not being interested and telling me porkies. Note to all boys: this is NOT cool. Grow some balls and tell the truth. But I'm just going to delete him (from my phone), along with all the other losers...

I mentioned earlier that I was in Florida, and that my mum has a habit of embarrassing me, so thankfully American Boys don't really do it for me. I find they all look pretty much identical and are a little too wholesome for me! So for now, I'll enjoy baking by the pool and might find someone back home to laugh at my white bits ;)

Hi!

2009-06-17T23:41:00.002+01:00

Well, this is my new blog! I decided it was about time I got it because i think my twitter followers are sick of me constantly talking about men and my quest to find them. The name of the blog has to be credited to @austinslide, he now owns a 5% equity share in Lopsi Inc. so when I make my first million as a blogger, he'll be in on it! I have considered a boy-based blog before, mainly because they irritate me so much sometimes I like to have somewhere to vent my frustration! At this stage, i'm finding my feet so please excuse any erratic thought processes that may follow...

I guess the best place to start is the start! I've had the grand total of 5 boyfriends. The first, when I was about 11, he was 10 (toyboy ;) ) and looking back, it was weird. We went on dates to the cinema, and for dinner (though his parents did come too, hahah). It was probably because my sister was dating his older brother!

The next boyf was when I was about 15. It lasted a year and a half, until I decided that it wasn't happy being tied down so young! It all worked out for the best though- he is the only one of my exes i'd class as a friend. He's the guy i'll call when I do something stupid and need a shoulder to cry on.

Number three was a bit of a twat. Now dating a devil bitch from hell (no kidding), I was silly enough to let him walk all over me and when I finally had enough, it ended over text. The icing on the cake was me showing up at his house and throwing all of his stuff he'd left at my house at him in his driveway!!

Next was also a twat. Again, I was a doormat. He didn't like my best friend, and my family weren't best keen on him. He didn't know my friends, and the few occasions we went out together we'd get drunk and fight. We finally split after Christmas, but in my head, it was over long before that!

Finally, there was Mark. Shortest "relationship" i've ever had. This one was hilarious. He was friend of a friend who moved things really quickly. We had bf/gf labels after our first date (which he brought his little brother on, no kidding) but he ditched me exactly 2 weeks after *sniff* because... he had tried to fall in love with me and couldn't so it wasn't going to work. A story so absurd, I couldn't even have made it up! A lucky escape methinks...

I'm very aware that any men out there who read this blog may think i'm a complete nut, and I freely admit that I am a little kooky, but I have to stress that as much as i'd love a rich sugar daddy who'd treat me like a princess and buy me expensive gifts it really isn't important to me. I also don't actively seek idiots, although it does seem like I do!

Recently, fellows have been thin on the ground. I always get hit on by old, unattractive men and don't know why. Either that or the occasional drunk chav who thinks I look like Sarah from Girls Aloud- I so do not- only similarity is short blonde hair!

Although i've always toyed with the idea of a blog to document my crazy nights, savage hangovers and whatever men are on the scene, it only came into practise this week. Last Friday night, I met the prettiest boy who gave me one of those kisses that made my legs go all wobbly. He truly knocked me for six! Unfortumately, boys being boys have some ridiculous notion in their wee heads that women want false promises that raise hopes. When I left the bar (and the boy) on Friday night, there was talk of drinks. Last time we spoke, the drinks plan seemed to have fizzled out. So either he is dead chilled and will get in touch or he is doing typical man thing and telling porkies.

I'm quite shy when I meet someone new, or i'm in a strange situation but i'm a believer in taking the bull by the horns when texts are involved. I hate nothing more than being in limbo, i'd far rather there was no game playing (the text game in particular sucks) and i'd far rather send a text that gets to the point, and clears things up wether it's what I want to hear or not. As for Friday night guy, as hot as he is, if he's going to faff about...i'll leave him to it!