Bloody ear shame; meeting

So last night I came home and found Bepe putting together a HUGE (in comparison to our tiny living room) model airplane. The type that you have a remote control thingy for flying around in the air. I was kinda horrified, but he assured me that he'd keep it in his room. We took it out into the courtyard and horsed around it for a while until some of the other residents of the building asked us to stop. In the meantime, hilarity ensued and at one point I ended up in a bush. A thorn bush. I scratched myself pretty badly.

Then, this morning of all mornings, my alarm didn't go off, and I was nearly late for the meeting. I had to rush there without even having a shower. The Dublin Tourism office, which I had never even noticed before, is in a big converted church near the bottom of Grafton Street. It is really pretty fancy. In fact, it's almost a shame it's a tourist office instead of an art gallery or performance space. I asked, and apparently it was a Protestant church. Does that make it less sacriligious? Are the Protestants less fussy about that sort of thing?

Anyway, I found the reception and they sent me in to meet Gemma who is the lady who posted a comment here. She's the lady who is in charge of their something-or-other department. She said that one of their marketing guys found my blog and suggested using it on their site, if I said OK. That's who has been following my blog. Marketing guys. I feel so cherished.

Of course I asked, hopefully, if there was any money in it. She shuffled her papers and said, "Eh, well, times being what they are and all...recession...no extra money here." She said I might be able to make some money from Google Adwords if there's lots of extra traffic but that that's up to me. I'll have to look into it.

To cut a long story short, the answer about the money was no. BUT--and this is the good part--I will get some free Dublin Passes to use and for as long as they use the blog they'll give me some of the free event tickets that they get once in a while.

What was I going to say but yes?

When I came out, I went to Cafe Fresh for a celebratory coffee. The lady behind the counter gave me the coffee and gasped: "Oh my GOD, are you ALRIGHT?"

This is the embarrassing bit. Turns out I had scratched one of my scabs from the scratches I got falling in the bush last night and the whole time I was talking to Gemma, I had a big trail of dried blood down the side of my neck.

Oh.My.God. Dublin Tourism Lady, if you are reading this, I am actually usually quite well-presented, and I got that falling into a bush while playing with my roomie's model plane, not fighting! I'm a nice young lady from an outport!

Anyhoo, to show that I am not for buying, my next entry will be entitled: "Three Things I Do Not Like About Dublin."

And now I'm back to my books. I've found a rich seam of books on the enthralling topic of alien abductions. It's true that it's not nothing to do with my eventual dissertation, but this stuff is fabulous.

Almost Famous

Well, I'd been kind of neglecting my blog and someone finally posted a comment on it. (See previous entry). I don't really know what she wants but hopefully she'll write back and we can meet.

Of course, I have a good reason for being so neglectful. The barbarian hoards are arriving in just eight days home -- the barbarians being my sister (30-something, hassled housewife, educated beyond her station, simmering with mild resentful and ripe for an an affair), her husband (sports-mad, intellectually challenged dentist, blissfully unaware of wife's resentment), their kids (nice enough kids, as they go) and her mother-in-law (quite sweet but she's never been off the island; likely to go berserk in the big city).

As they are all hicks and I am the only one used to cruising the ups and downs of city life, it has been up to me to organise every single damn thing. I'll explain tomorrow. Fortunately, this place is too small for them to stay in. There isn't even room on the sofa as Bepe's bit of fluff is staying over and while she is NOT staying on the sofa (obviously, and clearly, to judge from the noises that emanate from his room) her HAND BAG is occupying most of it as it is big and expensive and, she explained, far too fancy and delicate to be placed on the floor.

What he sees in her is beyond.

Oh and I broke up with French Boy. I'll explain everything tomorrow.