Who says the Gods don't have a sense of humour?

Just because I don't think they're very funny doesn't mean that they're not laughing... those twisted beggars!

After my rant about Tommy the Bus Driver yesterday, I decided to cheer myself up by leaving work early and having a nice long evening of doing stuff that I wanted to do. Imagine my shock, if you will, when the early bus came round the corner being driven by none other than... (probably no need for a drumroll, because you've already guessed)... Tommy!

Oh yes, ladies and gentlemen. I could hear the Fates and the Furies all sitting around, sharing an eye and cackling. Blind Io even snorted milk out his nose (but that might have been caused by something else, because he couldn't actually see what was going on. Perhaps one of the others told him. I don't know).

I was willing yesterday to allow the Gods their triumph over the petty affairs of humans. I even laughed a bit myself. Well, grimaced. But in a mostly good-humoured way.

This morning was a different story though. I was on time. I caught my usual bus. Why then, was bloody Tommy driving it again??? Gods, it's not funny anymore. The joke is over. Please?

Tommy the Bus Driver

Tommy is a bus driver
I'm sure he's very nice
He's middle aged and fraying
But at least he don't have lice

Tommy is a bus driver
He drives his bus real slow
And when I see him at the wheel
My spirits plummet low

This morning I was running late
By ten minutes and no more
I caught a slightly later bus
Oh no! Tommy opened the door

I live about an hour away from work
On the other side of the city
But when Tommy drives me there or back
In the end, my mood is shitty

Two hours it took this morning
For Tommy to get me there
By the time I reached my workplace
I was tearing out my hair

Tommy is a bus driver
I'm sure he's very nice
One day I'm gonna go postal
And Tommy'll pay the price

Tommy is a bus driver
He drives just too damn slow
Though I know that I am too tense
And should just go with the flow

When two people love each other very, very much...

I got some major news last night. Two of my best friends (let's call them James and Gerard because those are their names) are splitting up!

James and Gerard have lived together for about eight years and it is probably worth mentioning that they are not actually a couple. To be honest, we all thought that they were heterosexual life partners and nothing would (or could) come between them. They even shared a girlfriend for a while a few years ago (though again, I should clarify that Gerard liked the girl and invited her to a party at our house and then she and James hooked up, so there wasn't any actual sharing).

But now a woman, yes! a woman, has broken up the match made in heaven. James is leaving Gerard to live with his lady-love.

I'm a little confused by my feelings at the moment. I feel sad that two people, who are obviously made for one another, are splitting up; but I'm also really pleased for James and Ms Anonymous (I don't know her well enough to be comfortable publishing her identity on the Internet). Plus I'm delighted that Brown Thomas are having a sale at the moment, so I can go and buy a really nice outfit and a hat for their wedding...

Confusion - dissipating...
Let the spending commence!

Intrusive Sports

I hate sport. At least, I hate watching sport on TV. It's so unbearably dull.

Now, I don't want you to think that I'm some sort of Jabba-the-Hut couch-potato. I'm moderately athletic, though I'm not about to win any medals, but I do exercise - mostly by running - and I enjoy that plenty. Not boring at all. I still find my brain numbed to exhaustion watching other people doing it. I love swimming and I used to do it a lot (in my *much* younger days). In fact, I trained competitively. But to spend an hour in front of a TV, watching other people splash up and down a 50m pool is reminiscent of the first circle of Hell as far as I'm concerned.

Where is this going? The summer schedule for TV is rubbish. All the regular programmes have been mooched around to make room for - you guessed it - sport! Gah! Endless and mindless hours of men running around a big field chasing a ball, while old fogies who used to run around a big field chasing a ball tell us about how the young guys aren't running around a big field and chasing a ball the way they did in their day.

I'm probably in a slightly worse situation than many people as far as this goes, because I only have four (that's right American viewers, four) channels. Two of them seem to devote their entire evening's programming to football, so this is cutting my viewing options in half. Everywhere I go, everywhere I look, there's nothing but sport, ads for sport, support for sport, references to sport... it's endless.

It is so intrusive - I can't get away from it. What's worse is, when this Euro 2004 madness is over, I've got the bloody Olympic games to look forward to. There's also the Grand Prix (thankfully, that's only every other weekend, rather than every night), horse racing and GAA football and hurling.

While ranting about this to some like-minded (mostly female, I must admit to the stereotype) friends yesterday, I had an epiphany. It's only partly related to the main rant, but it did help me to clarify some ideas in my head. Would you like me to share my blinding insight with you all? Of course you would...

Teams are for losers who can't win on their own!

Decisions, decisions...

I have been invited to join another blog.
It's quite a good one too - it's even got people who read it.
Some of the people who read it don't even know the people who write it!
I'm a big fan of this other blog (see link to Lunchtime, Poetry & Pain; it'll be worth your while), though anyone who knows me will be aware of my bias and the reasons for it.
(For those of you who don't know, my husband and some of his friends write it, hence the favourable bias.)

Anyhoo - here's my quandary (it comes in two installments):

Quandary part (a)
If I were to start blogging on Lunchtime, then chances are Tirade would fall by the wayside. Is this a good thing?

In the first place, I suppose it depends on how you feel about Tirade. If this is a load of rubbish, then who's gonna miss it?

Secondly though, I always feel that a woman needs some sort of independence, even if she's perfectly happy with her current co-dependent status. So even if I do join the other blog, I could always have this to come back to. Nor is there anything stopping me from posting to both.

Quandary part (b)
Lunchtime is really good. It's funny and topical (or at least I think so). Would I be too far out of my league if I were to start posting there? Would I be lowering the standard that regular Lunchtime readers have come to expect?

I refer you back to the first part of my answer to quandary part (a). If this is a load of rubbish, then I should just stay the hell away!

Finally, the Lunchtime writers all work (and occasionally even have lunch) together, so I don't really fit the rhyming scheme!

What to do? What to do?