We were all invited to come along and take photos of things that are happy-making and would capture the spirit of the campaign -- cheering up. Let’s face it, after the snowy, icy, not-gritted shenanigans of last week, we all needed it more than ever!

Given the lovely snowfall of Saturday night it was a perfect day for it. Well, it was in Phoenix Park, the rest of town was less of a winter wonderland and more of a slushy, brown, icy puddle to be honest.

So, where are my photos? Well, that’s a good question. There aren’t any. I got a bit distracted. Mainly by building this…

Image courtesy of Shane Murphy

Affectionately named the Snow Bear of Peace (AKA The Snow Beast) and measuring far, far taller than he looks in the picture. A group of us decided to build him, climb on him and then… well, then we kicked him to pieces & threw bits of him at each other, but we’ll skim over that part.

As a result I was more of a “bringer of the fun” (self-titled) than actual photographer on the day. I’m a maverick. I live by my own rules. That’s just how I role. I also don’t have a camera since dropping mine on the floor.

The pic above was taken by Shane. For more pictures, by those who bothered their arse and did what they were asked to do, then check out the Flickr group. You can add you own to the group too and also stand a chance to win €3,000 for your efforts.

My chances of winning are pretty much shot to shit, but I have to admit that the snowman building was one of the most fun things I’ve done in AGES and did in fact cheer me right up. Add to the equation, Stephen & Kyle (who also made the video below) sliding about on some “found” children’s whiteboards, a trip on the big wheel and a really tasty brunch at Odessa and even gifts (!) from the lovely Kelly at Vodafone, and all in all it was a great Sunday.*

www.youtube.com/watch?v=xIGsyubpREo

Thanks for the invite guys. Happy to be a photographer/performing monkey for the next time, haha!

*Yes, I DID get chicken pox later that day, but it was still a good day, it just ended scratchily.

Woohoo! Oh, I already said that, but fuck it I am excited, dammit!

I am so ready for a weekend with three of the funniest women on the planet. Sadly one of the world’s other top 5 funny women couldn’t make it as she’s doing a triathlon back at home – I know, I know, she’s mental, but we’re related so you’re not going to pretend to be surprised by that are you?

I like to think we’ll be really cool looking like Alicia Silverstone & Liv Tyler (and another hot mate like, er, Drew Barrymore or something) in the Crazy video, as we bounce over the potholes cruise along the road, but more than likely we’ll be doing stuff like this as we drive along.

Cut loose! Footloose! Kick off your sunday shoes!

Especially as we’re off to a hooker festival!

So, to get to the point (it always takes me a while), I’m pulling together a playlist of songs for us to singalong to. So far, tracks include, the following, but I would love to know if there’s a seriously awesome roadtrip track that you think I’m missing, please leave a comment below…

1. Needle in a Haystack – The Velvelettes
2. Black & White Town – Doves
3. Don’t Stop Believing – Journey
4. War! – Edwin Starr
5. The Reeling – Passion Pit
6. Tribute – Tenacious D
7. Got to be Real – Cheryl Lynne
8. Woke Up This Morning – Alabama 3
9. Summertime Clothes – Animal Collective
10. The General Specific – Band of Horses
11. Walk Like an Egyptian – The Bangles
12. Push It – Salt & Pepa
13. God Only Knows – The Beach Boys
14. Hanging on the Telephone – Blondie
15. Across 10th Street – Bobby Womack
16. Cancel on Me – Bombay Bicycle Club
17. The Seed 2.0 – The Roots
18. Tiger Phone Card – Dengue Fever
19. Road to Joy – Bright Eyes
20. Moi je Joue – Brigitte Bardot
21. Lloyd, I’m Ready To Be Heartnbroken – Camera Obscura
22. Superstar – The Carpenters
23. Race for the Prize – The Flaming Lips
24. Whoo! Alright-yeah… Uh huh – The Rapture
25. Build Me Up Buttercup – The Foundations
26. Laid – James
27. Waterloo – Abba
28. Dress You Up – Madonna
29. Boys Don’t Cry – The Cure
30. Ask – The Smiths
31. Rudie Can’t Fail – The Clash
32. Love Child – The Supremes
33. All I Need To Get By – Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrel
34. Womanizer – Britney
35. Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough – Michael Jackson
36. You’re so Vain – Carly Simon
37. No Good Start The Dance – Prodigy
38. Me & Julio Down By The Schoolyard – Simon & Garfunkel
39. True – Spandau Ballet
40. Dog Days Are Over – Florence & The Machine
41. Afternoon Delight – Ron Burgundy & The Channel 4 News Team
42. Psycho Killer – Talking Heads
43. Bette Davis Eyes – Kim Carnes
44. I Wanna Dance With Somebody – Whitney Houston (that one’s going to hurt a lot!)
45. Dog Train – The Levellers (a new on on me, but we’ll give it a whirl nonetheless I’m sure!)
46. …???

So, please let me know what songs you think we should add to the list – it’s a fair old drive, so we’ll need a few.

The light blue ones are the add-ons I’ve already received – thanks guys. More please, we want to be hoarse by the time we arrive

In return I’ll share the embarrassing stories (about them, not me you understand) that occur over the course of the weekend and lead to pics like this and this. And if you’re lucky I might even tell you what the “Mystical Web of Secret Toilet Love Is” – needless to say it is already a Kinvara legend

Can you tell I’m looking forward to this trip much? Hmmm…

“Give it a second! It’s going to space!”

www.youtube.com/watch?v=rOzNrO54xsY

www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yr0_iCohyhw

Not sure what’s up with me of late, but I’m feeling a bit out of sorts. Like I’m walking around in a bubble. I can see everything that’s going on but feel like I’m watching it all through a slight haze & can’t quite get myself fully involved.

I'm a bubble girl, in a bubble world, Life in plastic, it's... er, a little disorientating actually

There’ve been a fair amount of ups & downs going on in Curlydena World of late which have all factored into create this feeling: upheaval at work, tonsilitis the other week and then a mad dash back to Manchester on Sunday for a couple of days for a bit of a family emergency & several long hours sitting in a hospital & generally just fretting a lot, and then back on the ferry to Dublin in time to be in work on Wednesday.

So, now I’m left feeling like I’m permanently zorbing, but without any of the fun, giddy “ooh, wahey, look at me, I’m running around in a giant bubble” goodness.

I’m sure I’ll shake it off soon enough. Probably after a weekend of lie-ins, red wine, Mad Men, Scorcese films, Mock the Week & more red wine. Sounds like a plan to me.

And if nothing changes and I still have this bizarre bubble around me, then I guess I’ll just have to look on the bright side, and realise that now at least I can be my usual clumsy self but without the risk of quite so much injury and less regular bruises about my person – I often have the knees of a 9 year old who’s no good at hopscotch combined with the shins of a footballer who forgot to wear shinpads when playing against Roy Keane circa 1997. Not the most attractive feature on a girl of, ahem, 30… I mean twenty-something*.

Got to look for the silver lining after all

* I know, I know, I don’t look it.

via ffffound.com

There’s something really lovely about this thought. What with the “current economic climate” and the rest of the bollocks that’s going on out there; the ups & downs of love (not the ins & outs, that’s just lust), and the endless opportunities for worry and stress that the world holds.

As a cab driver wisely reminded me last week, it’s all too easy to worry about the future and completely forget to enjoy or even experience the now.

When you think about it all though, you don’t know what’s around the corner. (unless you’re some kind of psychic, but then even I know what’s around the corner for you my dear – care in the community!) Who knows what the future will bring? Could be utter shite, but it could also be fucking awesome… and if you’re really lucky, some awesome fucking.

The only thing you can count on is that the sun will set on today, and will rise on tomorrow. So don’t sweat it. What will be, will be. I  like the idea that the future is unknown… plenty to look forward to!

I mean, jeez, almost every girl I knew when growing up was a massive Steffi Graf fan, but I’m English, we’re supposed to hate the Germans, almost as much as we hate the French. It’s practically genetic. But no, we all loved her, and rightly so, she was fucking brilliant – and not bad to look at either to be honest (though that was more a justification for her male fan base than anything)

I just don’t think nationalism really has a place in individual sports. I tend to support whoever I think is the best player. I’ve supported tennis players who are American, German, Czech, Spanish, Serb/Hungarian (that’s Seles btw) and yeah, some British players (though never the faux British, but really Canadian ones. That frankly was a bit too desperate even for me). Over the last few years my favourite players have been Nadal & Djokovic for example. I like the way that they both play, I like the way that they handle the media circus around the game and the fact that they seem to genuinely appreciate their fans’ support.

All of which are totally unlike a certain spoilt, grumpy, android-esque Scottish/British player of note. Step up Mr Andy Murray.

Ooh look I've won a trophy, let joy be unconfined!

Now, because I’m British I’m expected to want this moany arsehole to win Wimbledon, because that too is quintessentially British… er, I mean English… but he’s Scottish… Oh yeah, it’s British, definitely British.

Well bollocks to that thanks all the same. Why should I? He does absolutely nothing to evoke any support from me whatsoever. Now, I could bring up the whole “I’ll support anyone that’s not England in the World Cup” story… and in fact I just did.

So let me get this straight, you hate England but you’re still British, standing shoulder to shoulder with England, Wales & Northern Ireland? Ooh, what’s that smell in the air? Oh that’s it, it’s the distinct whiff of hypocrisy there methinks.

But it’s not just that. He’s a miserable sod. Watching his match last night he was struggling to beat (the totally unknown) Swiss player, Wawrink, yet the crowd on centre court were cheering him on as though he was already in the final and about to make all of their collective wet Tennis dreams come true. Cheering so loudly it’s going to put off the best of players, and no doubt affected Wawrink’s play. It sure as shit affected Murray’s.

So when asked by the BBC reporter at the end of the match how great it was to have this huge support, the guy could barely muster a good word to say about them and when he did he sounded almost as disingenuous as Tony Blair on a good day. He’s a fucking robot with the emotional capacity of Rainman. You might not like the support Andy, but don’t pretend you do. If you do like it, show it for fuck’s sake.

If he does win Wimbledon (and I am praying hard to mystical teapot orbiting the sun that he doesn’t) he won’t have the depth of emotion to cope with it – cue a monotonous acceptance speech and ENORMOUS anticlimax. As most of Britain, not just Scotland, but Britain, wanks themselves into a frenzy at this historic event and the BBC literally tear themselves in two from the sheer strain and effort of giving birth to a level hyperbole the likes of which we’ve never seen before and which may very well shift the earth off it’s axis, he’ll be struggling to elicit a tear, or a thanks, or anything of any note really.

I could go on and on for days, but I won’t. Can’t be arsed really. Needless to say I am counting the days until someone knocks the miserable prick out – either via a tennis match or even better, via a racket straight to the face. In the meantime I’ll be supporting the players that are well, just better.

So I snapped at you. Big deal.

It was over two weeks ago for fuck’s sake. It was late, I was hot, I was tired and you were looking for me to fix something that was frankly unfixable at the time.

But no, I shouldn’t have snapped at you and I am sorry and I’d have said it to you if you had told me that you were even the slightest bit upset. But now… now you’ve just dicked me right off.

Rather than tell me I upset you, you haven’t even had the balls to tell me that I upset/annoyed/bothered you. Instead you’ve decided to act like a child and become the Supreme High Empress of Passive Aggression; blanking me when I try to make conversation, or giving me monosyllabic answers when I give you no option but to reply to me; sneering at me when I speak, and CONSTANTLY contradicting whatever I say, just for the sake of it.

I swear, if you turn around & tell me that the sky is green and leaves are orange and my hair is straight I will be in no way shocked. Although I will be forced to hit you upside the head with a frying pan, Vic & Bob style. Badoooiiiinnnnngggggg!!!!!!

Sooner or later, you’ll grow up. Sooner I hope because you need to, as frankly you’re too old to act like a spoilt little brat. And I for one am far too old to entertain this nonsense.

GROW. THE. FUCK. UP.

From my new favourite band Camera Obscura‘s new album, My Maudlin Career, it’s the perfect song for a sunny Friday, and a Bank Holiday one at that – wahoo!

www.youtube.com/watch?v=hH9n8LVY0vs

Anyway, I hope you all have a lovely weekend (Bank Holiday or not) and that you get to enjoy a spot of sunshine. Roll on Monday and dubious tan marks all around.

Oh yeah, and special good luck to Joe who’s running the half marathon in Cork on Monday – Go Joe!

So, I’m on the lookout for things to make me cheer-the-fuck-up. And rapidly.

Here’s a short list of things that have managed to spark a little seratonin production within my good self, so far today:

Comic goodness

Fluffy Evil Chicken Genius

The musical equivalent of  vodka – makes me feel a little smiley and also makes me believe that’s it’s OK to just get up & wipe my feet on the rhythm rug, regardless of where I am!

And because I will never ever stop laughing at the total whack jobs that go on Total Wipeout. I thank you all from the bottom of my heart for a) having no shame at all, b) giving it a go when it’s clearly doomed to fail (could teach us all a thing or two!) & c) making me think that actually I wasn’t as bad at P.E. as I thought at the time. To Total Wipeout contestants everywhere I salute you.

(apologies in advance for the god awful music though – sorry!)

www.youtube.com/watch?v=TQk9AynI8AY