It’s been a while since I’ve looked at the phone, willing it to ring, willing the person on the other side to say “Yes, you are the chosen one”. Trying to play it cool; not seeming overly awkward with how much I want to be that chosen one, not seeming too desperate. Trying to give off the image of a cool collected individual instead of a wretched desperate woman begging to be accepted. Ahem. That never happened.
In the past, it was jobs, it was boys, it was competitions I was never destined to win. There was a mixture of acceptance and rejection over the years; none as bad as the ones who never called at all. I tried to retain the illusion of sanity, of nonchalance, of being too busy to care. Then I became a Mammy, and my hormones went nuts and haven’t really allowed me to perform this illusion as perfectly. Perhaps I should have stuck with the drama degree.Read More
I don’t think anyone honestly likes house hunting in practice. In theory, of course, looking for the perfect place to live, to build a home, to make your own. Visions of scenes from Location, Location, Location and finding the perfect house first go fill your head as you log onto Daft.ie or the numerous other websites advertising places to live in your area. Unfortunately, thats about as far as those scenes go; visions in your head. Unfortunately in modern Ireland, this is not the reality for house hunting.Read More
Five years after most other people my age, I’m going to put on my big girl boots and answer a few inane questions in order to put myself behind the wheel of a “coffin on tyres” to attempt to master the one way systems and roundabouts of Cork city. I am terrified. I’ve a fear of the road as it is (not without reason) and my opinion on the driving standard of 90% of the drivers in Cork isn’t the most positive one around. But Bus Eireann isn’t the most buggy friendly entity in the world and has a habit of not showing up on time, so I think it may be about time to get over the fear and do it anyway.Read More