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Sunday, 22 December 2013

There is always Plan B...

Well, a week before Christmas and you wouldn't even know it in Melbourne! No Christmas music in the streets, no carollers, no decorated houses and gardens, no trees illuminating the rooms of apartments that shine out onto the streets. Nothing apart from the odd Santa hat on an ex-pat whois returning from the "12 Pubs of Christmas" or have perhaps strayed from the group. I feel sorry for the average Aussie who doesn't know what a real Christmas is. How can you love Christmas when it's not Christmas? How sad is it that they don't know what it's like to wake up to snow, to have to wrap up and hold onto each other on the way to mass in case someone might slip! How unfortunate that they don't get to snuggle around the fire after a HUGE Christmas dinner, watching "Home Alone", "Love Actually" or some other Christmas film and giving out your presents to each other? I LOVE Christmas - and I am so depressed thinking that it's next week and I'm in a place where I can't appreciate it for what I know it as; a time for family and friends, catching up with everyone who comes home from all parts of the world, when Santa comes to the kids and where everyone seems to be in better spirits. Roll on next year...

I decided to test out the back and returned to cycling to and from work. It meant that it saves me my train fare ($8/day) and also allows me to go to Pilates on the way to work at 7:15am. Apart from some mad half-naked old man randomly screaming at me for locking my bike to the gate outside Kaya, it all went without a hitch :)

Met with Ruthie on Monday for lunch and we sat out on the green at work for the hour. Gave her the girl's birthday present to her and chatted. I love that girl! Her suspicions of perhaps being taken away for the weekend by her boyfriend Steve could have ended badly; but he lived up to it and she's now in Summerbay enjoying some time away from it all! Hope you're having fun lady!! She brought me over a Rocky Road cup-cake for no reason at all apart from her being such a sweetie (which was clearly inhaled), but I was "assured" that it was fat free so no guilt there! :)

Melbourne summer showed it's head and then hid again behind the clouds, with a 40 degree Celcius (104 F) day mid-week, followed by rain and an 11 degree day a couple of days later. Talk about making it difficult to know what to wear on a daily basis?! Paul got to finish up early for his Christmas holidays as they aren't allowed to work once it gets above 35 degrees. 11:45am and 35 degrees lead to a cheer from the 100 employees and they all got to go home! Well for some!

Plasma donation time came round again and I went solo this time due to my mate being busy (and by "busy" I think it meant he was too scared and traumatised after his last episode), so I arrived at the Southbank Donor Clinic and was greeted by the smiley receptionist who instantly recognised my name and spent about 40 seconds with her mouth open trying to remember how to pronounce it. Clearly my reaction to her "Sierra" version of my name the last time had made an impact! She then remembered how I had said "It's like Kiera Knightley except spelt correctly" and said "Ciara" :) Delighted with herself she checked me in and then passed the chart to the nurse saying "Sierra is next" about five minutes later. Aw well, it was good while it lasted.
Lincoln recognised me from the last time and took me in to ask all the same questions and sign the document. When it came to my blood pressure, the minimum level to allow a person to donate is 90/60, I was 92/61...I like to live on the edge obviously. They just about allowed me to donate and so upped my plasma donation amount and left me to it. I didn't feel the May-West after the donation and passed on the food. Paul decided to take my share and had two sausage rolls, some popcorn, milkshakes, biscuits, cheese and sweets. He brought me home weak, feeling sick and with a massive headache and I went straight to bed.

I offered to do nails in work for any of the girls that were interested ( and spent two days of lunchtimes and after work doing some hands and toes! The excitement of the girls was contagious when they saw their nails changed colour with temperature and they were already talking about what colour they were going to get next! On a separate note, quote of the week was from Serena who, in a discussion with Jack, said out loud "Am I going to have to come over and take my meat out of your box?!" It was all, obviously, in context; but the ensuing "There is a God!" or "That's what he said" comments afterwards made it incredibly awkward for Serena, but hilarious for everyone else!!

Chapel Street.
There's no place like it. Anything and everything happens on Chapel Street. I have seen the weirdest stuff on this street, but I seem to be the only one concerned, or who even notices! I have been felt up by a man on a tram, who then promptly got physically thrown off by the driver who came to my aid when I shouted at him. And this man happened to be wearing a dress and holding a handbag at the time.
I have seen a man going for a jog down Chapel Street wearing nothing but a pair of sunnies and an incredibly small pair of multicoloured speedos and separately Paul told me about an old man in a full suit, finishing off the look with a brand new pair of blue football boots; studs and all...
Today's episode was two homeless men fighting on the pavement over a blanket. One with a nappy and an open backless hospital gown on and the other with a live parrot on his shoulder. As you do...
Clearly normal behaviour and I was the weirdo for staring; as everyone went about their normal business; one person even stepping over the parrot which had started attacking the man with the nappy after he fell on the ground. "WTF" was written all over my face but nobody else seemed to even notice the scene that you wouldn't even believe if you saw it on TV. You gotta love it.

Went to see "Anchor Man II" in the cinema and also "American Hustle". I'm not a fan of Will Ferrell, but I have to admit it's a funny film. A serious case of "what the hell is going on?!" at times, but the randomness makes it. "American Hustle" is a very good film. A lot going on for this blondie to fully understand at the time, but great how it all comes together in the end. And don't get me started on the popcorn :) Addicted.

A shopping trip in Southwharf DFO was fruitful and I came home with some new runners to replace the ones I had used in Tough Mudder and the Colour Run; leaving them in less-than-perfect condition to say the least. Unfortunately we also came home with one bag less which was left behind in a shop. After about ten phone calls we figured out what shop it was (Rip Curl) and they thankfully had the bag behind the counter for collection the next day. There are obviously still some honest people around :)

This week's big event was when I was waiting on a friend to collect me, sitting outside my apartment building, wearing skinny jeans, a black top & high-tops and holding a large Kaya Pilates bag while listening to music. Cue man in his early 30s in a Ute beeping at me, then pulling up beside me and asking if I wanted a lift. I politely declined saying "no thanks", when he "kindly" offered his assistance in another area by using a hand signal that I'm not going to describe; but suffice to say it left me with my mouth open and about to kick the door of his car before he drove off laughing. Shocked, I apparently shouldn't be; according to a friend who said "well you were waiting at the side of the road at 8pm at night in St. Kilda". Thanks for the compliment...
I shouldn't be surprised though - this is now the third time that this has happened me.
I will never forget my sheltered American friend Jen and I were living in France at the time and heading another friend, John's, birthday party. We were both in jeans and hoodies, holding plastic bags full of crisps and wine, when we were approached by a man asking us, in French, how much we charged! I was left with my mouth open and nothing to say (it's rare but it does happen from time to time!), while Jen kept asking me what he was saying and thought he was asking what time it was! When I finally snapped out of it and mustered the speech to say "NON!", he genuinely seemed confused that we weren't in fact prostitutes and even double-checked with us! What sort of hookers come equipped with snacks and drinks for afters?!
Then again last year I was waiting for a friend to come and collect me for horse riding in Daylesford. I was waiting at the cross of Chapel Street (again, all the action happens here!) and Inkerman in leggings and a hoody and with a backpack on my back at 7:30am on a Saturday. As I didn't know what my friend's boyfriend's car was, I was just waiting for them to see me. A car at the lights flashed me and I walked over to the edge of the road to get in when they pulled up, and I noticed there was only one person in the car and they weren't female. The passenger window goes down and I'm face to face with a regular "dad" in his 40's, in his family car, asking me how much and offering me to get in. All I could manage was to turn around and walk away, to then turn back and see him shrug his shoulders and drive off!
WHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE MEN?!! How do they have the guts to ask someone that question? Wouldn't you have to be pretty sure the person was a prostitute before stopping to ask how much they charged or saying what you would like to do?! How are they not embarrassed when they see that I'm not actually a hooker?! And they don't even look like the "type" that you would think would even be interested in paying someone for sex. Maybe I need to rethink my wardrobe cos I'm clearly giving off the destitute and ready look??

On the plus side, if things get difficult, at least I have a Plan B...

Sunday, 15 December 2013

Sex sells

Could this be that summer has finally reached Melbourne?!  Not exactly as hot as Perth is at the moment (40 degrees Celcius), but sunny; therefore not raining, which I am happy about! The wind is too cold to allow for lying out and freckle-gathering, but the sun makes everyone happy and makes you want to go outside. I'm even sitting here listening to Pharell Williams "Happy" ( :)

It's the end of the week now and I've been to Pilates three times in the last four days. The classes are tough, but I can see the benefits of them and needed to do the second and third classes to loosen up... I have the exact same Pilates machine at home myself in Ireland; so I've suggested that my brother Kev takes it to do some training on for his Ironman Challenge (psycho). I bought it about 4 years ago - I was clearly ahead of the trend (and disillusioned to think I would ever use it!).

So my little sister Bhany and her fiance Luke headed off on their road-trip to Townsville on Saturday after seeing off the horse Orion and packing up the house. The big move done, they headed to Wagga Wagga on the first day and from there to Bathurst today. They're making their way to Widden where they'll meet up with some friends as they used to live and work there, so it'll break up the trip. 40 degrees and 8 months pregnant...I'm not envying her, but she says thank God for air-con!

I met with a mate for drinks on Friday in The Imperial, where I was served by the crap waitress from last week. She STILL can't get the hang of the order "Vodka, soda water and lime", and each time I went up I was charged a difference price! The "Asahi" she poured looked like an icecream float so one of the other barmen had to come and rescue her! From there we went onto Bridie O'Reilly's (, which is clearly an "Irish pub". Nice modern place, big and with a huge beer garden out the front looking onto Chapel St. Obviously nothing like a traditional pub from home - which are usually dingy little dark establishments that have a certain smell, with a fire in the corner and full of old men holding up the bar. Still, we got food (obviously, since I'm involved) and left after that. It was a bit of an ordeal my trying to get a taxi, so I jumped on the 78 tram down Chapel and found myself immediately transported back to Ireland and on the Nightlink coming home from Dublin on a night out. The entire tram was jam-packed with Irish who were finished a night's session and were "having the craic" with anyone and everyone. The only thing missing was the Abrakebabra ( or the Chipper Garlic Chips and Cheese.

Saturday I met with JD (Jenna) and Maire (Mary) after Pilates at La Roche ( on Acland St where we had brunch. Well, JD and I had brunch; Maire had 4 Malibu and Pineapples to cure the banging headache from the night before, and about 4 chips from her portion ordered! Cue 30 mins later and Maire had to make an impromptu exit to get the tram home as she wasn't in a very good way! JD and I do a spot of Christmas shopping; (which actually turns into shopping for ourselves), before I head home to get showered and changed before heading to Albert Park to meet Maire, her boyfriend Colm and their two friends for a BBQ.

She's in much better form when she arrives and is back on the vodka, soda water and lime. Rainman (Anna) arrives on her bike (with a hat on her head and her bicycle helmet in her basket) and brings some goodies.

Paul, Toby and Nina (Janine) also arrive and we have a little party on the grass! Much beer and vodka is drank (I stayed sober), plate-frisbee starts between the lads (which doesn't turn out to be very aerodynamic), before the plate is then used to eat of. "It's ok though", Colm says, "no dog has gone to the toilet anywhere in this park". Cue a dog, sprinting towards us with his tongue hanging out - a quick licking of Phil's face to distract us all before he grabs the sausage on the plate and eats it!! We are then joined by dogs of every shape and size, including an Irish WolfHound the size of the BBQ! 

Then, as the sun sets behind the trees and the temperature drops to what felt like -10 degrees, the drunken air-hockey starts. It looked like a mixture of Hurling, Hockey, Baseball, Cricket and Golf. Paul took a swing at the ball so hard, and missed, that he nearly dislocated his elbow! Colm was in flipflops and acting as goalie, taunting the other males to hit the ball at him as hard as they could. Phil has a beer in one hand and the hockey stick in the other; the picture of fitness! I ended the game before any limbs were broken, much to the annoyance of the rest of them!

Back to Maire's house, where she decides she can climb down the tree outside her third floor apartment, but promptly falls off the sofa and decides to leave the tree-scaling to another day. Phil and Colm get into a heated debate about how cricket was or wasn't like "rounders for adults"- I'll let you decide which one of them came up with that idea. :) When Maire was falling asleep and Colm calling me "Ciara-Montana" I took my leave and headed home to my bed. Never a dull moment in the house of fun! Love those guys!! Going to miss them as they head home for 5 weeks for Christmas. VERY jealous!

Was meant to meet JD and Tilly Sunday at 11:30am, but they didn't turn up til 1pm, so I headed to St. Kilda Markets to have a look around. The stalls are getting better, with a lot of quirky and creative items in them; from handmade jewellery, box engraving, knitted dolls to paintings and handbags. I ended up buying a bag, bracelet and ring for myself (again, hoping that Paul hasn't decided to start reading my blogs!) and had to walk away to stop myself from spending anything else.

The markets ( are on the Esplanade from 10am - 4pm every Sunday and are well worth a browse. My bag was from the Cybertart stall ( and of course I went for the pink one...suits me; Meow Meow :)

My bracelet was from Marie B Jewellery ( and I just wanted everything on her stall! Real leaves dipped in silver and lots of cute pieces, I was in Heaven!

EVENTUALLY JD and Tilly turned up at Rococco ( and I had the smallest portions of lunch in history. Flaked Atlantic Salmon and Beetroot Salad both the size of a 50c coin each, I wasn't going to be getting fat on that! So, I (obviously) got a Froyo afterwards and sat in the sun with the girls. I think I have a problem...

Home to clear out my wardrobe of unworn clothes, and almost 4 black bin-bags later I have them ready for the charity shop! I have WAY too many clothes, but still nothing to wear of course. I seem to have an outfit for every "what if I do this" occasion, but nothing to wear on a daily basis at work or at home. I'm sorted if I ever go to dinner with David Beckham though; that's the main thing. Obvs.

I have seen it all now though. I sit down to see what Paul's watching on TV and my mouth falls open in shock. On the TV screen, running around a pitch are 2 teams of females, with helmets and shoulder pads playing American Football. In bikinis.

Paul sees the absolute horror on my face, laughs and explains that it's a real sport and to watch it. It's called "Legends Football League" ( I watch, in awe of these beautifully sculpted females being able to not alone go out in public in a bikini, (never mind on national TV), but to RUN and jump and dive on each other in bikinis and not have a wrinkle out of place. These girls even have full makeup on, long hair and manage to look beautiful with a mouth-guard in let alone somehow being sweat-free. I am obviously also extremely grateful that Powerhouse St. Kilda Hockey Club's uniform isn't anything resembling the attire these females have on - although it could be a good tactic for putting off the other team...?! Blinded by the glare of my pale white skin, not mentioning the wobbling and shaking...good God I get goosebumps thinking about the nightmare of it all!

I am, however, disgusted that the only reason the sport is so well supported (the crowd is full of men) is obviously due to the fact that these girls are wearing next-to-nothing, are consistently bending over in a perfectly coordinated method of keeping the attention of the hot-blooded male "fans". The shoulder pads are fitted in a way that they don't cover any cleavage, the bikini bottoms are slightly too small, thus showing off the perfectly formed athletic asses of the players. Even the helmets have a see-through visor so you can see the girls' faces. Why don't the male NFL wear no tops and short shorts? Why don't they wear the same helmets? I am amazed at how fit and hard-core these women are, but know that if they were wearing a tracksuit they would have about 2% of the attendance of the crowds in the stands and most likely no TV air-time. Would you be happy as one of the players, knowing that the crowd are there to ogle at your body rather than appreciate your talent or athletic ability? Are you the one laughing in the end because you're getting the publicity or the pay regardless? Or is the joke on the men at the end of the day? Even my watching them is for their looks and my envy at their aesthetics rather than the game they are playing!

As the saying goes "Sex Sells"; and in this case it comes in the form of female GridIrons in bikins.

Thursday, 12 December 2013

The ONE and only...

I went to a nail party on Monday night (#irishnailsmelbourne after work and did 6 girls nails (@bittaclara, +Caroline Kelly , @Ca_fitz, @Elaineharringt3, @lisha_om and Lara). Great laugh, with Lisha making cupcakes and cake for her boyfriend's birthday (from scratch, of course....*ahem*) and us eating them all, the fear on every male's face after entering the house and seeing the number of girls, Clara spending about 4 hours deciding what she wanted, Marion and Una calling over and Marion not recognising me in my nail gear and Fitz getting super excited at the sight of her nails changing colour with the heat of her hands.
And of course it couldn't have gone smoothly. No no no, my life doesn't roll like that! Typical was my getting a parking ticket 2 minutes before one of the girls went to move the car; $84 of which I haven't told Paul - since he doesn't read my blogs I should be OK. :)

In work nobody noticed I got my hair done last week, so when I picked up my new prescription sunglasses and glasses, I thought that they'd DEFINITELY notice the difference now. Arriving into the office on the usual wet and cold "summer's" morning in Melbourne (again - whoever said it was hot in Australia had obviously never set foot in Melbourne), wearing my sunglasses when it was RAINING SIDEWAYS outside, I sat down at my desk. Nothing. So, I put on my other new glasses for the rest of the day and still got nothing.
Two days later one of my friends, Avril, Skypes me from England. I haven't seen her in about 2 and a half years and first thing she says to me is "new glasses?". Go girl.

The apartment building that we're in had a Christmas BBQ, so we decided to go and say hi to the other people in our building. You know when you meet people or are introduced to someone and you've forgotten their names almost before they're even finished saying them?! I could see it was like that for Paul. So we met "your man with the beard" (David), "your one with the Scottish accent" (Morven), "the fella with the crushing handshake" (Michael) and finally "the oul' one who fancied me" (Rachel). The rain stayed away for the BBQ that Reddy, the building manager, had organised and we spent the hour stuffing our faces with burgers, sausages, venison and something else that could have easily been barking at some stage. And to think I was a vegetarian for 6 years?!
We had a good laugh with the Scottish couple (Morven and Michael) about the previous building manager Robbie. Poor Robbie had a raging drug habit and lived in the apartment beside ours. Not a night would go by without hearing Hard House tunes pumping from his apartment til 6am, fighting in the corridor, or smoke billowing out from under his door. And then there were the notes that he would randomly put up in the lift saying how much he loved everyone in the building, or how sorry he was after this and that. The best, however, was when he put up a sign telling people to clean up after their dogs or he'd personally put the dog sh*t through their letterboxes! I literally broke myself laughing when I read that one! They were a great pick-up in the morning; you never knew what the next note would say - all depending on how off his face he was of course!

Signed up for Reformer Pilates six weeks ago and FINALLY got out of work on time to go this evening. I rocked up and waited outside the class in Kaya ( alongside the MILFs, Yummy Mummys and general fat-free population of Melbourne. I reminded myself that I was here to help strengthen and fix my back and get back on track with my fitness; while ALMOST regretting that last chocolate-heaped Frozen Yoghurt...not quite, but almost.
Anyone who thinks Pilates is easy needs to take a class and then say it. My legs were shaking through many of the moves and my arms were tired and sore even just 5 mins after the class had ended! I'm glad I did it and would recommend it to anyone. Kaya have amazing facilities and have deals for $30/week for unlimited classes in Spin, Yoga, Pilates etc; which is amazing for Melbourne Pilates prices. Friendly and helpful staff and iPhone connections on the treadmills for Facebook, your music, apps etc...And I KNOW you're not meant to be on your phone when you're at the gym, (a pet hate for someone I know) but that was a definite tick for me :) Thanks for the recommendation Una, I'll be a regular Pilates-peep in no time; albeit remaining a Froyo-fan at the same time :)

So, 25 posts into my blog and I'm getting very positive feedback from friends and family. I was feeling very proud of myself when I saw that I had 2,454 views from across the world! I still don't know what I'm doing, so who the hell would want to read what I was rambling on about?! And then; just like that, the blog answered me.
Except for Kev.

Just after the "2,454 views" I noticed there was another number. Beside the word "followers" stood the number "1". I wouldn't mind if the "1" stood for "Number 1 blogger" or "First place".
Instead, the lonely number meant that I had only ONE follower! (ONE?!) And to make it worse, the follower was my little brother Kev; who kinda HAD to follow me! Talk about a sign not to give up the day job just yet and an indication that I needed to keep working on the typing!

After a quick pity-post on Facebook to my brother, admitting that how incredibly sad it was that he was my only follower, I soon saw that in fact a good few people regularly read my blog and were in fact following me through other media other than Google +.

So this is for you reading this; warts and all it's me and my life. Bear with me while I try figure this and everything else out. Sit back and enjoy the ride; bumpy as it may be.

Here's to you all for making my day - this Cailín Dána says thank you :)

Monday, 9 December 2013

Mathematical Sign 3

What a week!

From a 36 degree day on Monday to 9 degrees on Wednesday, Melbourne never lets you forget that you're in the capital of "Four Seasons in One Day"! Let's say I will probably never be homesick here with the sideways rain, Antarctic winds and always having to bring a brolly and sunglasses wherever you go!

After a beyond-mental week in work I met up with a friend for a few drinks on Friday and had some very interesting & honest chats... Talk about eye-opening.

Saturday brought with it sunshine and smiles for some, but tragedy and tears for others...All I'll say is that my heart is breaking for you seeing you in pain & I'm here for you. 

My little sister came over to say goodbye before she and her fiancé head off on their move to Townsville this week. She is taking every bit of the pregnancy and all the dilemma of moving house and uprooting life at 8-months-pregnant in her stride. I admire the utter courage, organisation and strength she shows towards the whole situation. I know I wouldn't be able to approach what she is about to take on with the determination she demonstrates. We said our farewells after taking a photo; and had a good laugh at how she STILL looks skinnier than me and only a month out from giving birth! I reckon I'm adopted.

I head off to the "Ho Ho Hockey Christmas BBQ" (See what I did there?!) that I had organised and meet a group of the guys and girls sitting on the grass in the sun. What a lovely day; about 28 degrees and we sit around eating and drinking...WAY too much vodka. 

7 hours later we pack up and clean up after ourselves, making plans to meet up with each other later on in the evening. That never happened. I was lucky to make it home! 
I thought I was fine, but about half-way through the 10 minute walk home I got hit by the waterfall of vodka that I had consumed. I don't remember anything else, but I woke up 9 hours later at 3am; in bed with nothing on apart from my knickers and sunglasses (wtf?!), and a cement bucket beside my bed. At least the bucket was still sick-free I guess...(clutching at straws here!) Not one of my classier moments...!

I had meant to be going to Ollie from work's leaving drinks and had clearly missed that as well as 9 hours of my life in general being blanked from my mind. A quick text to Ollie to tell him how ladylike I had behaved in order to explain why I wasn't there, then a quick update on Facebook to let everyone else in the world know what I had done; and to obviously make my mother and father proud of their first born and how mature she had become with moving overseas...Fail. Aw well, I was just happy that I had no hangover! #winning

I headed off to Chapel St with Paul and finally to Las Chicas ( on Carlisle St for some brunch. It was yummy! We sat outside, and although it was raining it was still very warm, so it was nice to get some air. The menu was very different and had lots to choose from; but I went for the "BBB" and it was delish!

Back home to do my nails (#irishnailsmelbourne) and then to Úna's for "Úna-Sunday". Marion, Úna's French friend who is staying with her and Elma, made a French Christmas Cake (La Galette des Rois), which is WAY nicer than gross Irish Fruit Christmas Cake! It was yummy! Who the hell under the age of 60 eats Irish Christmas Cake anyway?! Seriously; I don't know one single person not in a retirement home that eats Irish Christmas Cake! Yet it's made months in advance of Christmas & dished out at every house you visit over the festive season, as though they're trying to get rid of it! The French one has a tradition of having a prize in it; kinda like the ring in the braic for Halloween; so it's even a fun cake! 

Úna and I then head off to Caffé Sienna ( as it was back open after being burnt down in a fire earlier in the year. We chat for a couple of hours and try make sense of some situations, feelings, relationships and life in general. Needless to say we don't get anywhere, but sometimes it can help ease the head and heartache.

Back to hers where we meet with Elma, Marion, Clara, Mairéad and Elisha and then decide that a Fro-Yo would solve everything, so we head off to Chapel St again to load up on the calories. I think I could live on Frozen Yoghurt and Popcorn. I'm sure you could get all your nutritional needs from it; dairy, fruit & sugar from Fro-Yo & grains from popcorn! 
My mate Dave (@ConwayDavid) reminded me on Twitter that my Mam used to freeze SuperQuinn ( yoghurts and then every kid on the cul-de-sac would come round and have one. Way ahead of her time obviously; she could have been a millionaire; especially since they were about 70p each & we bought this one for $13!

So, back home Paul decides to have a rant about Facebook and how this person and that person post stupid things or "why would you write that" etc. He keeps banging on about how "some of stuff doesn't even make sense" & that "people are weird". He finishes off the rant by saying "I mean, why the hell would you write "I mathematical sign 3 you"?!" It took me a second after asking him to repeat himself before I broke down laughing. I couldn't control myself for at least 30 minutes afterwards and keep smiling every time I think about now. 
God bless my social-media-ignorant husband.

I <3 You.

Tuesday, 3 December 2013

An excited Blondie!

Today is a good day! Today I booked a month off work for my Christmas holidays in 2014, when I will be returning home to see my friends and family! It'll be 3 years since I'll have been home at that stage, and I'm excited at the thought already! As one of my besties suggested, I should have a 380-day Advent Calendar (without the chocolate a day or I'd be the size of a house by the time the festive season came around again)! SUPER excited at the thought of getting to see everyone again, as well as the fact that I will also be going home for the Christening of with my by-then-almost-1-year-old niece/nephew at the same time! Santa in the house again! Guaranteed I will be up at the crack of dawn once again, trying to wake everyone to get them up to open their presents. Well, nobody ever said you HAD to grow up...

I also FINALLY got round to getting my hair done (it's only been about 14 weeks...) and would like to give a shout out to my most amazingly talented hairdresser, Shauna Kelly, for making sure my friends and loved ones don't abandon me out of pure embarrassment! (

Only someone with a natural gift can transform my "looks like you have been dragged through a bush backwards" hair into something suitable to be seen in public in! This Irish girl is incredible at what she does and I send all my friends her way; all of whom return as regular clients after they see what she is capable of.

She has inspired me to get my Nail Technician hat back on and to get my ass in gear to work at promoting that in Melbourne. This is to be my next project. That is, once Facebook decides to allow me to change the name of my nail page from "Nu Nails" ( to "Irish Nails Melbourne"... something that is surprisingly difficult to do considering the amount of pages that are on Facebook with slang, swear words or just dumb names! If I called it "Sick Nails for B*tches" would i have a better chance at having it approved I wonder?? Could affect the type of clientele I'm looking to attract though... Catch 22 really :)
Facebook says I have to request permission to do a name change of my own page, saying why I want to change it and also submitting documentation with the name of the new business on it?! I can see my patience running out and my setting up a new page to avoid the hassle!

Anyway, watch this space; lots to do - need to get the Facebook page updated, business cards done up, promote through friends and colleagues etc. I'm already doing a nail party on Monday evening: Shellac nails for about 6/7 girls. Had best make sure to get time to do my own before then; is chipped nail varnish and a dirty, soggy plaster holding a nail on bad publicity for a nail tech?! Don't answer that.

And I checked; "Sick Nails for B*tches" isn't taken on Facebook...