Category: Uncategorized
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E is for English…
By rights this should probably be about excuses. And I must make my own excuses for not managing to stick to my challenge of one blog a week…but it’s been a busy few weeks. What with having to come back early from Cape Town (with six deathly dull hours in Dubai – there’s only so…
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C is for culture…
Back home we talk about culture, respect and the lack thereof. We bang on about recognising difference and yet when push comes to shove it seems to be my way or the highway. If there had been space for more people and the church pews could have stood the weight of a few extra bodies,…
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B is for boobies…
Yes, of course I could have covered boobies and breasts – Kim Kardashian’s assets, both front and back seem to be buxom enough to boost sales of a little-known publication. But her butt has had enough publicity to last a lifetime and my poor brain could not cope with coming up with any more puns…
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A is for apathy
This post is the first of 26. It will set the ball rolling on a series of weekly posts that are connected by nothing more than the fact that I’m finally bothering to write something for myself and that each will be inspired by a letter of the alphabet. Looking back over my last few blogs, it…
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Wallowing in Wallonia
In a bid to make sure that my 28th year on this earth is not totally wasted I’ve set myself a few challenges. The first of these being to learn the 32 counties of Ireland, and once I’ve achieved this monumental feat of memorisation, I plan to tackle the countries of Africa. I like to…
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To laugh, cry or leave
Explaining to people why I choose to stay in Northern Ireland has never been easy. This backwater that makes headlines for all the wrong reasons is my home. I’m more Ards than I am African and proudly so. Well, I was, until recently. You get used to standing out in Northern Ireland and while at…
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Passive tolerance – at the very least
Stuart Heritage has a lot to answer for. But his main crime is leading me towards the Guardian website. I’m not so far gone that I would stop buying the Daily Telegraph every day. [Heaven forbid I miss out on their crossword.] I am, however, increasingly reading and agreeing with some of their editorials. It…
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Down the hipster rabbit hole
I wish I’d followed Alice’s lead. Not down the rabbit hole, but trailed the lone hipster of Bruges through the cobbled streets. If we’d followed him with his too tight, turned up jeans and frighteningly small feet shod in the trendiest of footwear – I think we’d have found out why three million people…
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Tin pot
Blind dates are atrocious. Don’t worry, I’m not straying into dating advice or going to moan about the decided lack of suitable menfolk in Northern Ireland. But, in my limited experience of the blind dating scene I would say that discussing the merits of Hitler and Cromwell isn’t exactly stellar first date fodder. Obviously my…
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Annie get your strimmer
Perched precariously atop a rickety ladder, wondering how I had been guilted into strimming a tree for Marian, I wasn’t best pleased to have my foray into gardening interrupted by a passerby. At least the shocked drivers, agog at the sight of a girl with a strimmer in hand attempting to dance and attack a…
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