Well, I've been invited to post to this new blog, which has everything to do with eating in restaurants around the country and absolutely nothing to do with one deviant mind's sexual proclivities/promiscuities (I'm talking to that commentor on Gerry's blog - you know who you are!) Mind you, he might have a point. Perhaps I'll advocate the judicious use of a comma or a colon?
Eating Out: Ireland or Eating Out, Ireland?
Anyway, check it out. You never know - Egon Ronay could come to us for advice some day!
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Friday, May 26, 2006
The Best Thing That Can Happen to a Croissant by Pablo Tusset
DBC Pierre was a bit misleading in his write up. Pablo has his own personal standards of Integrity, develops a personal hygiene fetish, smokes his joints with (not before) his breakfast and only pleasured himself in the sink of his local bar to get the best value from a prostitute once. He isn't much for political correctness though. That bit was accurate.
That said, I've really enjoyed reading this. The translation strikes me as being a little ropey in spots and they could have done with a better proof-reader, but I won't hold that against them.
Loosely, the plot runs along the lines of "loser little brother accidentally and unwillingly takes a journey of self-discovery and comes good". There were some very funny moments that made me laugh out loud too. It reminded me a little bit of a book called The Memory of Running by Ron McLarty. Also well worth a read.
Androgyny-smodgyny
For want of something better to do just after lunchtime this Friday afternoon, I wandered over to those lovely people at QuizFarm, and filled me in a couple of quizzes. According to the 'Should you be MALE or FEMALE?' quiz, I am 'Either'. I won't let this get me down though, because I also get to ride the brains out of Cedric Diggory, if I believe the 'Who are you screwing at Hogwarts?' quiz.
You scored as Either (68%). You brain is neither specifically male nor female dominated in the way you perceive things and as bad as this sounds it can easily mean that you are capable of combining both limiting gender aspects to your advantage. Rather than being genderless you are possibly able think freely. This does not nec. mean that you are bisexual or androgynous or indecisive, though it might.
Should you be MALE or FEMALE?*
created with QuizFarm.com
You scored as Cedric Diggory (95%). If you went to Hogwarts you would be the lucky girl fucking Cedric Diggory! Congratulations! Popular, good looking, and a hell of an athlete. All he had to do was look at you and you were on your bakck! MMMMM I bet that sex is golden! Too bad he dies... Oh well, enjoy that fine piece of man while he lasts.. Go ahead girl, go head get down...
WHO ARE YOU SCREWING AT HOGWARTS??
created with QuizFarm.com
You scored as Either (68%). You brain is neither specifically male nor female dominated in the way you perceive things and as bad as this sounds it can easily mean that you are capable of combining both limiting gender aspects to your advantage. Rather than being genderless you are possibly able think freely. This does not nec. mean that you are bisexual or androgynous or indecisive, though it might.
Should you be MALE or FEMALE?*
created with QuizFarm.com
You scored as Cedric Diggory (95%). If you went to Hogwarts you would be the lucky girl fucking Cedric Diggory! Congratulations! Popular, good looking, and a hell of an athlete. All he had to do was look at you and you were on your bakck! MMMMM I bet that sex is golden! Too bad he dies... Oh well, enjoy that fine piece of man while he lasts.. Go ahead girl, go head get down...
WHO ARE YOU SCREWING AT HOGWARTS??
created with QuizFarm.com
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Insomniac ShitList: Bad Habits
(Needless to say, I don't do any of the things listed below!)
Item Seven (added 24 May 2006)
Spitting.
Can you not see how disgusting this is? Why do you persist in hawking up great phlegm wads and firing them at high speed from your mouth to the ground, hopefully (I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt here, though you hardly deserve it) without being intercepted by any passing pedestrian or one of their personal belongings?
Then there's the big slippery green ooze that looks like someone trod on a slug and left it on the pavement for random pedestrians to stand on, walk through or unwittingly place their bags in. Uuugghhhhh.
The worst offenders here seem to be nasty little chavs, neddies and scrotes (who, it could be argued, will never know better) and fully grown men, often of Asian or Eastern European extraction (who should). Yuck. You all make me sick.
(I notice that I listed Spitting on the ShitList in October 2004 - Item 3 below - but obviously, it still pisses me off to such an extent that I had to list it twice. Double Shit.)
Item Six (added 18 October 2004)
Mainly women guilty of this as far as my observations go - failure to lift one's feet properly when walking and so being followed by an incredibly irritating shuffle noise.
How does it not drive you mental? It makes me crazy, and you're just walking past me. It must be murder on the heels and soles of your shoes. If this is happening because you're wearing very loose slip-ons, flip-flops or sandals, then you're either committing an unforgivable fashion faux pas, you think you're on a beach, or you just can't walk properly, you moron. Whatever else, it certainly does not give you the air of disaffected cool that you are striving for
Item Five (added 15 October 2004)
Bad table manners. This comes under two sub-headings:
5.1: Talking with your mouth full
To para-phrase a famous adage, "If you had any respect for anyone within spitting distance, you'd swallow that". Semi-masticated food is not attractive; nor are your teeth, gums or tounge while you eat. Swallow, then speak
5.2: Use your knife and fork properly
This is a really pedantic thing, I know; but it drives me batty to see people holding their cutlery in their balled-up fists. Knives and forks were invented a long time ago and used by the aristocracy to distinguish themselves from commoners, peasants and animals. These class distinctions are largely ignored by our society these days and pretty much anyone with opposable thumbs is expected to use a knife and fork. Please don't get them mixed up with shovels and other garden implements. They are delicate instruments and should be used as such. Otherwise, we'd all be much happier if you'd just go back to bending your head to the trough and ripping your food apart with your hands
Item Four (added 15 October 2004)
Littering. Oh God, is there no end to the filth you people want to make me deal with? I get especially irritated with people who don't correct their children for dropping their rubbish on the street - you will have your turn against the wall when I am in charge... You and your heathen spawn
Item Three (added 15 October 2004)
Spitting in the street. This is a bit of a double whammy as a good proper street-spit is invariably preceeded by a loud hawking noise. See Item One above for my views on this
Item Two (added 15 October 2004)
Coughing or sneezing without covering your mouth. Uuggghhhhh. I would never have had unprotected sex with a complete stranger (or any sex with a complete stranger), so what makes you think that I would like you to share any of your bodily fluids with me?
Item One (added 15 October 2004)
Loud Snuffling. Please use a tissue and blow your nose. I particularly despise those great big hawking snuffles that are invariably followed by a swallowing noise (often with some chewing in between). I can feel my stomach turning over just thinking about it
Item Seven (added 24 May 2006)
Spitting.
Can you not see how disgusting this is? Why do you persist in hawking up great phlegm wads and firing them at high speed from your mouth to the ground, hopefully (I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt here, though you hardly deserve it) without being intercepted by any passing pedestrian or one of their personal belongings?
Then there's the big slippery green ooze that looks like someone trod on a slug and left it on the pavement for random pedestrians to stand on, walk through or unwittingly place their bags in. Uuugghhhhh.
The worst offenders here seem to be nasty little chavs, neddies and scrotes (who, it could be argued, will never know better) and fully grown men, often of Asian or Eastern European extraction (who should). Yuck. You all make me sick.
(I notice that I listed Spitting on the ShitList in October 2004 - Item 3 below - but obviously, it still pisses me off to such an extent that I had to list it twice. Double Shit.)
Item Six (added 18 October 2004)
Mainly women guilty of this as far as my observations go - failure to lift one's feet properly when walking and so being followed by an incredibly irritating shuffle noise.
How does it not drive you mental? It makes me crazy, and you're just walking past me. It must be murder on the heels and soles of your shoes. If this is happening because you're wearing very loose slip-ons, flip-flops or sandals, then you're either committing an unforgivable fashion faux pas, you think you're on a beach, or you just can't walk properly, you moron. Whatever else, it certainly does not give you the air of disaffected cool that you are striving for
Item Five (added 15 October 2004)
Bad table manners. This comes under two sub-headings:
5.1: Talking with your mouth full
To para-phrase a famous adage, "If you had any respect for anyone within spitting distance, you'd swallow that". Semi-masticated food is not attractive; nor are your teeth, gums or tounge while you eat. Swallow, then speak
5.2: Use your knife and fork properly
This is a really pedantic thing, I know; but it drives me batty to see people holding their cutlery in their balled-up fists. Knives and forks were invented a long time ago and used by the aristocracy to distinguish themselves from commoners, peasants and animals. These class distinctions are largely ignored by our society these days and pretty much anyone with opposable thumbs is expected to use a knife and fork. Please don't get them mixed up with shovels and other garden implements. They are delicate instruments and should be used as such. Otherwise, we'd all be much happier if you'd just go back to bending your head to the trough and ripping your food apart with your hands
Item Four (added 15 October 2004)
Littering. Oh God, is there no end to the filth you people want to make me deal with? I get especially irritated with people who don't correct their children for dropping their rubbish on the street - you will have your turn against the wall when I am in charge... You and your heathen spawn
Item Three (added 15 October 2004)
Spitting in the street. This is a bit of a double whammy as a good proper street-spit is invariably preceeded by a loud hawking noise. See Item One above for my views on this
Item Two (added 15 October 2004)
Coughing or sneezing without covering your mouth. Uuggghhhhh. I would never have had unprotected sex with a complete stranger (or any sex with a complete stranger), so what makes you think that I would like you to share any of your bodily fluids with me?
Item One (added 15 October 2004)
Loud Snuffling. Please use a tissue and blow your nose. I particularly despise those great big hawking snuffles that are invariably followed by a swallowing noise (often with some chewing in between). I can feel my stomach turning over just thinking about it
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Another Announcement
Last week, I had my first scan. All is well. Due at the end of November. Too early to tell if it's a boy or a girl. I don't know if I want to find out though. I think I probably won't this time. It'll be nice to keep something as a surprise!
Oh Lordi
I am a big fan of Eurovision. Huge!
I love everything about it. How kitch it is, how twee, the block voting, bitching about the various entrants.
2006 was a bumper year.
There was Germany - an incredibly sappy (and very un-German-esque) Country number;
There was Turkey - a fairly chunky forty-something, who had beaten herself into a sequined ice-skater's costume that revealed her less than attractive tatoos, surrounded by some aggressively heterosexual (not!) male dancers (who could dance really well - as only aggressively heterosexual men can't);
There was Ireland - at least this year we didn't shame ourselves with traveller-boy or the incestous McCalls. But what a dreadful dirge! 'Every Song is a Cry for Love', indeed! What about 'Smack My Bitch Up', or 'Bring Your Daughter to the Slaughter'? 'This Song is a Cry for Help!' more like!
There was the Ukraine - who went back to their Svetlana-roots and fielded a Shakira-sound-alike (I was surprised that this didn't do better!)
And of course, there was Finland. This year's winner. And what a performance!
I watched these guys in the Semi-Final with my jaw hitting the floor. I voted for them on the night of the Final. I cheered every time they scored a 'douze points' and hissed whenever they appeared on the 1-7 board.
Well done boys (and girl). The Orcs have finally come good!
I can only wait with baited breath to see what Europe will send to compete with itself next year!
I love everything about it. How kitch it is, how twee, the block voting, bitching about the various entrants.
2006 was a bumper year.
There was Germany - an incredibly sappy (and very un-German-esque) Country number;
There was Turkey - a fairly chunky forty-something, who had beaten herself into a sequined ice-skater's costume that revealed her less than attractive tatoos, surrounded by some aggressively heterosexual (not!) male dancers (who could dance really well - as only aggressively heterosexual men can't);
There was Ireland - at least this year we didn't shame ourselves with traveller-boy or the incestous McCalls. But what a dreadful dirge! 'Every Song is a Cry for Love', indeed! What about 'Smack My Bitch Up', or 'Bring Your Daughter to the Slaughter'? 'This Song is a Cry for Help!' more like!
There was the Ukraine - who went back to their Svetlana-roots and fielded a Shakira-sound-alike (I was surprised that this didn't do better!)
And of course, there was Finland. This year's winner. And what a performance!
I watched these guys in the Semi-Final with my jaw hitting the floor. I voted for them on the night of the Final. I cheered every time they scored a 'douze points' and hissed whenever they appeared on the 1-7 board.
Well done boys (and girl). The Orcs have finally come good!
I can only wait with baited breath to see what Europe will send to compete with itself next year!
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
To That Guy on the Bus Yesterday
We had a long talk, you and I. I won the argument and everyone on the bus thought I was great and you were an arse.
Actually, no-one said a word to you but everyone still thought you were an arse.
You got on the bus in Lucan and sat 3 rows behind me on the other side of the aisle. I was listening to my mp3 player and I could still hear every tortuous screech of guitars and crash of drums emanating from your deafened-by-death-metal ear phones.
I hate you.
In my head, I very calmly asked if you would mind please turning down your volume. In my head, you said "Fuck off, you fat bitch."
In my head, I replied "I'm pregnant. Is your problem glandular?"
In my head, you sheepishly turned down your volume. There may have been an apology.
In fact no-one said anything and we all sat and silently fumed and wished that you could at least have had decent taste in music.
Actually, no-one said a word to you but everyone still thought you were an arse.
You got on the bus in Lucan and sat 3 rows behind me on the other side of the aisle. I was listening to my mp3 player and I could still hear every tortuous screech of guitars and crash of drums emanating from your deafened-by-death-metal ear phones.
I hate you.
In my head, I very calmly asked if you would mind please turning down your volume. In my head, you said "Fuck off, you fat bitch."
In my head, I replied "I'm pregnant. Is your problem glandular?"
In my head, you sheepishly turned down your volume. There may have been an apology.
In fact no-one said anything and we all sat and silently fumed and wished that you could at least have had decent taste in music.
New Music: The Good, the Bad and the Ugly
I got myself some new albums recently and I held high hopes for them all: Snow Patrol's Eyes Open, Bell X1's Flock and the Dave Matthews Band's Stand Up.
So, what did I think? Well:
Snow Patrol: Trying to follow the success of Final Straw couldn't have been easy. There was a lot riding on this album for them. I think I was also predisposed to not like this because the lead-singer-guy fired the bassist-guy (also the last remaining original member of the band) when Final Straw hit the big time because of "creative differences". Anyway. Whatever. Eyes Open kicks ass. It's brilliant and I love it. There's enough similarities to Final Straw to show that they know what's good about the band and what people like about them and their music, but enough differences so that you get the feeling they've moved on and grown up a bit and you're definitely not listening to the same album.
Favourite Song: Set The Fire To The Third Bar
Notable Others: Make This Go On Forever
One minor point of grumble (and this holds for Final Straw too) is that it sounds like desperate hard work to be lead-singer/songwriter-guy's girlfriend. I mean really, could you be bothered dealing with all that angst on a daily basis???
Bell X1: I'm definitely predisposed to liking these guys because they come from the same town/area that I grew up in. I really enjoyed their earlier album Music In Mouth, which Conor had given me for Christmas. I listened to it to within an inch of its little CD-life. So I bought their follow-up and widely critically acclaimed album Flock. Now, it's not that I don't like it: I do, just not as much as Music In Mouth.
Favourite Song: Bad Skin Day
I'm giving it plenty of opportunity to grow on me and it's not like I skip through any of the songs and I think that a bit of saturation therapy will soon have Flock taking its place in my heart beside its older brother.
Dave Matthews Band: What can I say? I have stacks of their albums and I love all of them for different reasons. In general, I prefer their more recent material to their older stuff - that's all a bit jazzy or something - but it's all good. I was especially taken with their Some Devil album, which has had pride of place on my mp3 player since I got it. I was really looking forward to Stand Up. So much so that I was trying to talk Conor into going to Canada next month to see DMB play in concert. What a disappointment. I will keep trying. I will give it a chance to grow on me. Currently, I do not hold out much hope.
Favourite Song: n/a
Notable Others: n/a
So, what did I think? Well:
Snow Patrol: Trying to follow the success of Final Straw couldn't have been easy. There was a lot riding on this album for them. I think I was also predisposed to not like this because the lead-singer-guy fired the bassist-guy (also the last remaining original member of the band) when Final Straw hit the big time because of "creative differences". Anyway. Whatever. Eyes Open kicks ass. It's brilliant and I love it. There's enough similarities to Final Straw to show that they know what's good about the band and what people like about them and their music, but enough differences so that you get the feeling they've moved on and grown up a bit and you're definitely not listening to the same album.
Favourite Song: Set The Fire To The Third Bar
Notable Others: Make This Go On Forever
One minor point of grumble (and this holds for Final Straw too) is that it sounds like desperate hard work to be lead-singer/songwriter-guy's girlfriend. I mean really, could you be bothered dealing with all that angst on a daily basis???
Bell X1: I'm definitely predisposed to liking these guys because they come from the same town/area that I grew up in. I really enjoyed their earlier album Music In Mouth, which Conor had given me for Christmas. I listened to it to within an inch of its little CD-life. So I bought their follow-up and widely critically acclaimed album Flock. Now, it's not that I don't like it: I do, just not as much as Music In Mouth.
Favourite Song: Bad Skin Day
I'm giving it plenty of opportunity to grow on me and it's not like I skip through any of the songs and I think that a bit of saturation therapy will soon have Flock taking its place in my heart beside its older brother.
Dave Matthews Band: What can I say? I have stacks of their albums and I love all of them for different reasons. In general, I prefer their more recent material to their older stuff - that's all a bit jazzy or something - but it's all good. I was especially taken with their Some Devil album, which has had pride of place on my mp3 player since I got it. I was really looking forward to Stand Up. So much so that I was trying to talk Conor into going to Canada next month to see DMB play in concert. What a disappointment. I will keep trying. I will give it a chance to grow on me. Currently, I do not hold out much hope.
Favourite Song: n/a
Notable Others: n/a
Strange Dreams
I've been having really odd dreams lately and some of them have been kind of creepy too. I don't like that. Not nightmares exactly, but they still leave you with an icky disturbed feeling when you wake up.
Anyway, I had a really wierd one this morning and I don't know why, but I've decided to share it with my reader. I dreamt that Michael Jackson needed the cash (to pay his lawyers?) and so decided to sell the rights to a previously unreleased Beatles medley. Whoever bought it paid $40 bazillion and then let the radio stations play it for free.
It was only when I woke up that I realised the songs in the medley were all Michael Jackson songs.
Anyway, I had a really wierd one this morning and I don't know why, but I've decided to share it with my reader. I dreamt that Michael Jackson needed the cash (to pay his lawyers?) and so decided to sell the rights to a previously unreleased Beatles medley. Whoever bought it paid $40 bazillion and then let the radio stations play it for free.
It was only when I woke up that I realised the songs in the medley were all Michael Jackson songs.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Something Rotten by Jasper Fforde
Thursday Next has left BookWorld with her son (Friday) and returned to the RealWorld to live with her Mum (Wednesday). Will she be able to ensure that the Swindon Mallets win the Croquet Superhoop, thereby stopping Chancellor Yorrick Kaine, the fictional megalomaniac, from becoming the Dictator of England, put a halt to the gallop of the evil Goliath corporation, avert a war with Denmark and prevent the Earth from turning into a mouldering radioactive cinder a week from next Tuesday? While she's about it, she needs to keep the BookWorld ticking over, find a Shakespere, smuggle Danish books into Wales, avoid a very determined assassin and reactualise her husband. All in a day's work.
Monday, May 15, 2006
The Heimlich for Babies
I went into the weekend aged 29 and I arrived into work this morning, a haggard and care worn 40-something. I now have my first grey hairs and am walking with a distict stoop.
Why? Well, because we had a small stone-swallowing-and-choking episode yesterday, with a certain one-year-old who ought to know better than try to kill himself through maternal neglect at his paternal grandmother's house! (Talk about showing you up in front of the in-laws!!!)
Thank Christ, I knew how to do the baby-heimlich (i.e. Don't!) and got him to vomit it up pretty quick smart but scary, or what! I swear I lost half a stone from the shaking afterwards. And what was it about a nasty hard little grey pebble that looked so appetising?
I dunno. Anyway, all's well that ends well. I sent my child to his creche this morning clothed in bubble-wrap, with some well placed air-holes but nowhere for him to get a stone into his mouth... I'm a responsible mother, me!
Why? Well, because we had a small stone-swallowing-and-choking episode yesterday, with a certain one-year-old who ought to know better than try to kill himself through maternal neglect at his paternal grandmother's house! (Talk about showing you up in front of the in-laws!!!)
Thank Christ, I knew how to do the baby-heimlich (i.e. Don't!) and got him to vomit it up pretty quick smart but scary, or what! I swear I lost half a stone from the shaking afterwards. And what was it about a nasty hard little grey pebble that looked so appetising?
I dunno. Anyway, all's well that ends well. I sent my child to his creche this morning clothed in bubble-wrap, with some well placed air-holes but nowhere for him to get a stone into his mouth... I'm a responsible mother, me!
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
If I were..., I'd fire...
I've stolen the idea for this blog from Conor. I'll at least have the decency to cite his suggestions, so there isn't any actual plagarism! Con, if you're really miffed about this, I'll take it down and you can have it for your blog.
If I were Victoria Beckham, I'd fire my husband's PA
If I were Sylvester Stallone's mother, I'd fire my plastic surgeon
If I were Han Solo, I'd fire first (con)
If I were the Emperor, I'd fire my architects (con)
If I were Russell Crowe, I'd fire my anger management therapist
If I were an Taoiseach, I'd fire my Minister for Justice for being an arse
If I were found guilty of a crime I didn't commit, I'd fire my lawyer. In fact
If I were found guilty, I'd fire my lawyer
If I were the Centre de George Pompidou, I'd fire my buiding contractor for not finishing the job
If I were managed by Louis Walsh, I'd fire my manager
More to follow as I think of them...
Feel free to add some into the Comments either...
If I were Victoria Beckham, I'd fire my husband's PA
If I were Sylvester Stallone's mother, I'd fire my plastic surgeon
If I were Han Solo, I'd fire first (con)
If I were the Emperor, I'd fire my architects (con)
If I were Russell Crowe, I'd fire my anger management therapist
If I were an Taoiseach, I'd fire my Minister for Justice for being an arse
If I were found guilty of a crime I didn't commit, I'd fire my lawyer. In fact
If I were found guilty, I'd fire my lawyer
If I were the Centre de George Pompidou, I'd fire my buiding contractor for not finishing the job
If I were managed by Louis Walsh, I'd fire my manager
More to follow as I think of them...
Feel free to add some into the Comments either...
Friday, May 05, 2006
The Well of Lost Plots by Jasper Fforde
It's big, it's clever and it makes me laugh. Thursday Next is pregnant with her non-existant husband's child and has taken refuge from the evil little sister of her vanquished arch-nemesis in the Well of Lost Plots. As if that's not enough for her to deal with, she must also avoid being murdered by a renegade JurisFiction agent, while all around her are popping off like flies. Who is behind the dastardly plot that threatens the Well of Lost Plots and the rest of BookWorld? How far does the corruption extend? Read on to find out...
Thursday, May 04, 2006
A nice piece of chocolate
I was just at tea with some girls in work and we were talking about the TV show 'Trading Spouses' - an American version of 'Wife Swap'. Last night, the wife from an orthodox Jewish family was swapped with the wife from a Born Again Christian family. I'm sorry I missed it - you gotta think it would have been like watching a car wreck!
Anyway, the BAC woman was explaining to the three Jewish teenage daughters why they should abstain from pre-marital sex. She used a piece of chocolate as an illustration. She mooshed it up and squished it down and mauled it and passed it on to the first daughter. D1 mooshed, squished and mauled it before passing it to D2, who mooshed, squished and mauled it before passing it to D3, who also mooshed, squished and mauled it and then handed it back to BAC woman. She mooshed, squished and mauled it some more. So all in all, it was a fairly manky piece of chocolate by the time it had gone around. Then BAC woman took out a fresh piece of chocolate.
"This," she said, holding the manky chocolate, "is what you'd be like if you've been passed around. But this," triumphantly holding aloft the pristine piece, "is what you'd be giving your husband if you saved yourself for him!"
After hearing all that, boy am I glad that I kept a nice piece of chocolate for Con!
Anyway, the BAC woman was explaining to the three Jewish teenage daughters why they should abstain from pre-marital sex. She used a piece of chocolate as an illustration. She mooshed it up and squished it down and mauled it and passed it on to the first daughter. D1 mooshed, squished and mauled it before passing it to D2, who mooshed, squished and mauled it before passing it to D3, who also mooshed, squished and mauled it and then handed it back to BAC woman. She mooshed, squished and mauled it some more. So all in all, it was a fairly manky piece of chocolate by the time it had gone around. Then BAC woman took out a fresh piece of chocolate.
"This," she said, holding the manky chocolate, "is what you'd be like if you've been passed around. But this," triumphantly holding aloft the pristine piece, "is what you'd be giving your husband if you saved yourself for him!"
After hearing all that, boy am I glad that I kept a nice piece of chocolate for Con!
Potential for change
I've worked in one capacity or another for UCD Personnel for nearly 8 years - since I finished my undergraduate degree, in fact. That's a long time. From where I sit, it looks scary on the outside.
I just got a new job. In DIT, so sticking with the 3rd level educational institution vibe. In HR, so not much change there. Doing IT implementations of HR systems, so in fact, no change at all. The salary wasn't even much better - certainly not enough to warrant giving up flexi-time and the massive amount of leave I get in UCD (20 days' annual leave, 10 days at Christmas and up to 13 days' flexi-leave per annum - that's 43 days folks!)
Anyway, I'm not taking the job in DIT. It was only a contract to the end of December anyway. Why would I give up a permanent and pensionable job to take a short term contract when I'll be going on maternity leave in November?
I just got a new job. In DIT, so sticking with the 3rd level educational institution vibe. In HR, so not much change there. Doing IT implementations of HR systems, so in fact, no change at all. The salary wasn't even much better - certainly not enough to warrant giving up flexi-time and the massive amount of leave I get in UCD (20 days' annual leave, 10 days at Christmas and up to 13 days' flexi-leave per annum - that's 43 days folks!)
Anyway, I'm not taking the job in DIT. It was only a contract to the end of December anyway. Why would I give up a permanent and pensionable job to take a short term contract when I'll be going on maternity leave in November?
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