I write this because I can.

Here I am again mes amis! So last time I posted was just before we went to Toulouse! Suppose I should fill you in on that oul adventure while I'm at it. I was very excited to go and see my friend for her birthday who I hadn't seen in I'd say almost five months, one would say that's a pretty long time to go without seeing one of your closest friends. Too long almost, and I wouldn't disagree with them either. We had booked a train for around 12pm, and we were all pretty much ready to go so on we went on our journey but unfortunately it was not as smooth sailing as we hoped it would be! You see folks, the problem with us is that we overestimate how close the train station actually is so when we realised that we were in fact running late we started to walk a bit faster (I thought it was grand but I have that attitude to everything so I'm not a very good person to rely on), we even ran some of the way (don't laugh, I actually did run). After finding the platform our train was stationed at we made our way there, and you can imagine the relief on our faces as we saw that the train hadn't left yet. Out of breath and tired already we made ourselves comfortable for the journey ahead. All was fine, we were glad we made it and chatting away until my friend noticed...THAT IT WASN'T THE RIGHT TRAIN! *facepalm* What did we do? Well we gathered our things, faster than we've ever gathered anything in our lives and ran off the train. Turns out the train we had boarded was in fact destined for Marseille...imagine if we had ended up there! Quite a bit far away from where we had intended to go. Being the person I am, I thought the situation we had landed ourselves in was nothing other than hilarious. I couldn't stop laughing! Come on, how common is it that three adults (technically) miss two trains in the space of a couple of weeks?!?! It's pretty darn funny. Anyway, one of the nice people who work at the train station confirmed that we could get the next train, which we did do. This day has certainly placed itself in the little box in my brain reserved for the funniest moments! I mean, nobody died, we still got to Toulouse. All good in the hood I say!

We spent a nice time in Toulouse, I stayed longer than the others. As the friend that we visited is Italian, it was no surprise that she also had plenty of Italian friends, which is great! Apart from the fact that we don't speak Italian, but we all had the common language of French (sometimes English) which was a lifesaver. Toulouse is a pretty big city, and I liked it as a place to visit but I'm not sure I'd quite like to live there but that didn't stop me having fun. The second night I stayed there I went to a 'retro' party, I wasn't exactly sure what this was so I just threw some random pieces of clothing on and away I went; leg warmers, converse, tights and a bright blue top. I didn't think it through because IT WAS BLOODY  COLD! Oh and I almost forgot to mention, on my travels I also met these too guys who knew my cousin, okay yeah that's not so strange right..but they're in the exact same course as her. Tis a small world, even in France! All in all a great weekend was had and I certainly wouldn't be opposed to going back again for another few days. But before that I've got many other planned adventures!

Since then I've not really been up to much else. I've had a lot of exams and whatnot to get done but I know you don't want to hear the sordid details of that. They've put up all the Christmas decorations over here now which has made the place extremely festive, I love it. Christmas has always been one of my favourite times of the year! The atmosphere is indescribable! I will admit, it's strange not being at home during this time of year, seeing all the photos on Facebook of the decorations in Kilkenny is a bit weird. Christmas is always a thing I associate with home and family, so not being there feels a bit odd, it's not bad, it's just different. It's nice to experience how it's celebrated in another culture, there is a Christmas market in on 'Place de l'horloge' and it is filled with so much goodness, from gingerbread to snowglobes, theres something for everyone! There was also an extremely random antiques market on 'Place Pie' yesterday, I had a gooch around and it was fantastic. That's one thing I love a lot about France, it's so wonderfully random and it provides endless entertainment. I mean, there was a price list from a butchers, who would want to buy that you might ask? Well I for one would certainly consider it for the simple reason that I could say I owned one! They had plenty vinyl records, which makes me want a record player just so I can buy them ALL (okay, only some). Then they had this box of postcards that were written like yonks ago. It's all so fantastically amazing and I will forever be in awe. I wish we had markets like that back home. Like, they just set up and many of them just lay the goods on the ground, no hesitation as to whether anyone would steal anything. The lot would be gone in a flash back home!

I have a week full of exams next week, which is going to be mad craic altogether! But I'll sit them in sheer anticipation of my trip to Paris (including DISNEYLAND) which will be a great end to an even greater semester. And this is where I shall bid you adieu my lovlies.Until next time, whenever that may be!

P.S. Here is a pun that I came across the other day, I kid you not I laughed for hours just at the mere thought of it. It's just so darn 'punny'!

Random tales from a random brain!

Salut tout le monde! I hope all goes well where ever you lovely folk may be. This really isn't a post about anything remotely specific or interesting, merely a series of photos that display antics that occur in my daily life. I don't know why I willingly choose to display my ridiculousness across the internet but I do, and I have no regrets about doing so either.

On Monday I decided I'd be slightly domesticated and make Banoffee Pie (because let's be honest why study when you can make things?), anyway off I set to the supermarket to buy the ingredients. It hadn't occurred to me before setting foot into the supermarket that they would not supply the same products that I would normally buy in Ireland, I thought about just throwing in the towel and giving up on the idea of baking, but then I thought 'No, I can totally do this, I just gotta look carefully for the things I need'. So bananas, they were pretty simple..I mean they look the same in every country. Digestive biscuits, lucky for me they sell McVities so that was a pinch of salt. Butter and cream, same old story they have those in every country (as far as I know). Then it came to buying the sugar and the milk for the caramel, I needed brown sugar and condensed milk. Normally, as I said before I would have used Irish product but now I was forced to compromise. I resorted to choosing a sugar that definitely was not white, but it was not brown either, it was somewhere in the middle...I decided I would do. The only thing left to buy was the milk, at the time I didn't know what condensed milk was called in France and I had not thought to look it up before leaving my house, which in hindsight was a pretty amateur move...I should always be prepared. I headed to the baking section where I stumbled upon milk in a can, I took it upon myself to decide that this was condensed milk and to hope for the best. It turns out I was correct in my selection (for future reference its called lait concentré sucré, just so ya know), although while in the process of making the caramel I thought it tasted more like custard, it didn't stop me making it though (sure I thought what's the worst that could happen? we'd only have a vile tasting pie, no biggie, be grand said I) and nobody died; I call that a success. And we all had fun eating the end result (I know it's in a pot but it was the closest thing I had to a dish, life of a student eh?):

Another story (just humour me and pretend you care). So there's this plant that just randomly sits on the little wall thingy beside the kitchen sink:

Up until today I honestly thought it was an ornament (it looks like one right?) until my friend accidently knocked it into the sink and noticed that the soil was dry. I didn't even know there was soil. I didn't know I was supposed to water it. I didn't even bring it here. It came with the house, part of the package and all that. After further inspection we came to the conclusion that it is in fact a very real plant, of which type we do not know, which is on the verge of dying as a result of neglect. Nevertheless, I have tried to save it by watering it now, although I feel it may be a tad late for the littl'un. I will make it my absolute goal to see it through to the end of the year. I fear what might happen if I had something utterly important to look after, 'Oh I was supposed to feed it? I thought I just had to watch it'. I really am tragic.

The ridiculousness does not end here my friends. As you all know (I hope, unless you've got a TERRIBLE sense of time) Halloween has passed, and what does that mean? The Christmas season is upon us. So naturally, you want to celebrate no? We decided we wanted to buy some Christmas trees, put aside the fact that I will have to leave it behind and I already have one of my own in Ireland it's completely logical to buy another, after all it ain't Christmas without a tree. Obviously, a trip to IKEA was in order, you know to stock up on Christmas things. (and to buy a tree). So on we went through the usual routine of following the arrows on the ground until you reach the section you actually want, the IKEA folk were very clever by placing all the Christmas festivities at the end of the path, but not without teasing you with randomly placed Christmas trees and such. 'Tis a downward spiral when you enter the world of IKEA, there's just so many things that you want to buy. Actually no it's everything, I definitely want to buy everything. You go in to buy something specific and before you know it there's a rather large dent in your bank account. And the best part? You regret nothing, everything you bought is just so wonderfully useless that it's justified. Anyway, we got to the Christmas tree area to find that they only sell one size of tree which costs 40€ (whut?), this was rather disappointing, I mean what about the people who don't have large enough living areas to buy a big tree, or those who prefer to be a little more reserved in their Christmas celebrations, or students who merely want to spread their Christmas cheer while remaining inside their financial box, I strongly feel that IKEA has overlooked these major factors. Think of all the money they would make from very happy twenty something year olds, like ourselves. Anyway we pushed on through our disappointment and continued to browse the Christmas decorations, by the end of which we had decided we would buy some decorations for the non existent tree, so now I am left with these:

and no tree. But fear not. I have a plan, like all good things I shall order one on ebay and get it delivered to my house. ebay is my friend. You know when you start saying that ebay and google are your friends that you got to get out more, but if it brings Christmas to my house I could care less about being so ridiculous. It's innovative buying a Christmas tree on ebay, how many of you folks could say you've done the same?

And this is where I leave you lovely peeps for tonight. What have you gained from reading this post? Absolutely nothing. Actually, I'm pretty sure you just lost five minutes of your life. I did warn ya. This blog is nothing but a look into my random thoughts and nothing more. It's bound to be mundane. Sure it might have given ya a giggle all the same. 

I'm off to Toulouse tomorrow and I shall inform you of all my adventures next week. Until then my friends.

Ramblings of a traveling student...

Because of the fact that I can't sleep and am just laying in bed staring at the ceiling I decided to make better use of my time and inform all you lovely peeps how my stay in France has been so far. So I've been here for just over three weeks now (I know time flies eh?) and I can honestly say that without a doubt the most hardest/horrible/funny now but not at the time moment that I've had was the journey we took getting here. I mean I cannot describe to you how utterly ridiculous we looked, we obviously had not thought that far past the plane journey. Let me put it into perspective for you: There were three of us, I had two pieces of luggage (one small suitcase and one large), each of my friends had three pieces of luggage (both had a large suitcase, one had two more small suitcases and the other had a backpack and a small suitcase), that equates to three people and eight pieces of luggage. I'm pretty sure we looked something like this:

Now you have the image, multiply that by three and there you have us. So now you're probably thinking okay grand, it was just a plane journey and they were there. No. I wish it was that simple. We got a plane. Then a bus. And after much conversing with the staff at the train station, a train. Then another train. Then we had to walk. With. all. our. luggage. And can I ask one simple question. WHY IS IT NECESSARY TO HAVE THAT MANY STAIRS?? I mean come on. Three people. Eight pieces of luggage. Several flights of stairs. Surely you can see the picture I'm trying to paint right now? We had to make a random friend named Sammy at the train station to help us. Even the train had stairs. What is this? I'm not exaggerating either. French people really love the bloody stairs. 

After that less than desirable trip to the city of Avignon, I find myself standing alone (my friends had to go to their accommodation, at a train station, with just the address of my house, waiting for a taxi, that never came. I decided I'd take a stroll up the street to see if anyone could help me, thankfully some kind man directed me to the tourist office where he thought they would be able to help me. Off I go on my way to said place, creating absolute havoc along the main street of Avignon with my two suitcases. When I arrived at the tourist office the lady was able to provide me with a map and directions, which I was very grateful of. But since I was late to meet my landlady and I was swamped with luggage I asked her if there was somewhere I could grab a taxi, she replied with a mere 'you don't need a taxi, it's 20 minutes walk away'. This was not an acceptable answer to me so I tried again. Nope. She replied with the same unhelpful answer I left thinking did she not see all that luggage? Finally after much difficulty I arrived at my landlady's house. What did I find? SHE WASN'T THERE. I had to wait outside her house with my two suitcases looking like a stalker for an hour and a half until she arrived home to inform me that I couldn't actually stay in my house for another week because the electricity was cut off. Surely that was something that they should have checked no? Exhausted and Fed up with the days events I barely managed a nod to all her questions and settled into my guest house. To say that the day was a bit of a nightmare would be an understatement, although it has provided us with a good story about our arrival. 

The rest of my stay has been quite enjoyable though, regardless of the few random days when I feel a little homesick in which case I just eat some spuds and I'm grand cause, ya know,  I'm Irish and all that. We've had a lot of time to do various things too though, which I will present to you in a series of pictures that will give you a snippet of the goings on, I'm not going to write it all because I'm too lazy and it would be far too boring for you. And let's be honest....who doesn't love pictures?

So here we are just chillin' by 'Pont d'Avignon' as ya do:

It's the place to hug tree and poles, I mean, why wouldn't you given the chance?

                         

These have 'Fanny' written on them. Like...why? Avignon is quite random..

I've eaten a ridiculous amount of bread and cous cous:

     

Crepes and BN's, I'll be a whale when I return:

                        

We even visited the Pope's Palace:

                              

I got interviewed (you can tell by my face I'm not very comfortable):

And the best part? We danced 'Sur le pont d'Avignon'...now how many of you can say you've done that?

Somewhere between all the picnics, visitin', and banter we've started into actual college work, but that doesn't mean we're going stop dancin', huggin' and explorin'...there's a plenty more for us to do. It just means we've got to be ninjas and juggle uni work and the oul travels, but hey, no mountain too high, no river too deep right? 

So there you have it people, a brief summary of what I've been up to the last few weeks (even though most of it was about my journey here)  and proof that I'm still alive, I'll keep you posted on the happenings in Avignon. 

À la prochaine mes amis.

P.S. I really need to remember that they drive on the other side of the road....this could become a great problem....

That time I was ridiculously bored..

Two posts in one night? That shows how little I actually do with my life. 

Right. So some of you might know that I have a brain full of ridiculous and pointless facts that nobody in the entire world could possible care about. And a lot of them are pure ridiculous and probably not true anyway. If I could remember my college work as well as I remember these then I'd be doing far better. Here's a few for ya to ponder! 

1.     Cat's are lactose intolerant (you're not supposed to give them milk. It's a myth)

2.     Walt Disney actually had a fear of mice (so obviously it's logical to create a cartoon about a mouse)

3.     Everyone's tongue print is different (I really don't know why I know this but I do!)

4.     Arachibutyrophobia is the fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of your mouth (I just thought this was funny)

5.     It's impossible to lick your elbow (everybody knows this)

6.     Apparently (because it's probably not true) people who suck ice cubes have more sexual desires than those who don't (ridiculous right?)

7.     French speaking residents of Belgium are called a Walloon (maybe I'll be one, one day!)

8.     You can't hum while holding your nose closed

9.     It's impossible to sneeze with your eyes open (please don't try it)

10. Coca-Cola says that only two people know the recipe and they aren't allowed to travel on the same plane in case it crashes. (what if one dies, then the other dies, will there be no more coca-cola?)

11. It's not possible to tickle yourself

12. Ketchup used to be a medicine

13. SWAG originally meant 'Secretly we are gay'

14. Coca-cola would be green if colouring wasn't added to it

15. Prostitution has been observed in penguins and chimpanzees (what a random thing to observe)

16. On average a person spends an overall of 2 years on the phone

17. On average right handed people live nine times longer than left handed people (if this is the case I am royally screwed.)

Okay methinks I should end it here. There is one thing and one thing only that we have learned from this post: I really really need to find something better to do with my time, this is starting to get ridiculous. 

Alcohol induced shenanigans.

So here we find ourselves in the month of July. Time goes fast doesn't it? The topic for this post came quite easily for me after a spontaneous adventure last Saturday night. What may the topic be you ask? Drunken Antics. There. I said it. It is a post full of the ridiculous things that people (I) do when drunk.

Isn't it strange when you think about the nights you've had a little too much to drink. Don't deny it people, it's happened to the best of us. You get to wondering what actually happened during those hours that you can't recall. What did I say? Where did I go? Who was I with? Did I steal something? These are all things that race through our minds the following day. The fear. One of the many things I hate about drinking. I mean the drinking is great in the moment and you always have the best craic imaginable but the next day you actually feel like you are literally about to die. Like everything in the entire world is out to get you. Once it was so bad I was scared to go outside. I don't know what the hell I thought was going to happen if, god forbid, I walk to the shop. Of course this is all part of the affects of alcohol. Yet, we still continue to drink. The human race confuses me once again. Time after time. No matter how much we've fecked up at the hands of alcohol in the past, we continue. Although don't people say drunk words speak sober thoughts? Gosh, I fear what I've been telling people. Meh, who cares. They were probably drunk themselves. See. That's the funny thing. We almost always forget that the majority of the time the other person/people were drunk to so the likelihood of them remembering is quite slim. Unfortunately for me, my friends have great memory after nights out...

I'll tell you a story. Last Saturday night, it was my friend's 21st, so naturally we all went out for a few celebrations. A few turned into a lot. Drink after drink. Shot after shot. My inhibitions rapidly worsened. Everything started to become a blur. I mean, I don't remember a lot after one o'clock. I'm not ashamed though (clearly, I'm telling this story to the internet) because I have not been so diabolically drunk in a very long time. Now, normally people go to the pub, drink or whatever, then (because they know they should sleep) they go home. My drunk brain does not have this rationality. My drunk brain decides that it's a good idea to go drinking 'down the 'nal' (judge me, I don't care) as we so like to call it. I had never done this before. It was a new experience. One that I only partly remember however. It was good craic, this I do remember. I recall that my brain also thought it would be a good idea to go paddle in the river. In my clothes. It a was a good idea. Until I fell in, so ya know, that was cold. I remember being cold. Then, if I hadn't already displayed myself as a gobshite, I decided to lie down in the grass and admire the buttercups, typical drunken happenings as you all probably know. Never in a sober state have I admired buttercups. I mean, they're only yellow. What does drunk me think is so pretty about them? I'll have to ask her. This is the extent of my recollection of Saturday night, it was a good time though. I had needed to let loose for quite a while and I think it is safe to say that I accomplished that task. So there you have it, my spontaneous adventure landed me in a hilarious situation. College has changed me I tell you. The amount of silly things I have done has sky rocketed since beginning. Between walking into shop shutters and sleeping against flower pots (all alcohol induced) I have enough stories to last a lifetime, why be embarrassed? Youth is sacred, it doesn't last forever. I could tell you plenty more stories (that have been recounted to me by others) but I'm not sure they're even safe for the vast space that is the internet so you'll just have to do without.

I also think it's interesting to watch other people when they're drunk. It's like you meet their alter egos. Sometimes it's entertaining, other times not so much. The stories you hear from drunk people are most definitely one of a kind. And I'm pretty sure extremely exaggerated. Oh my god, you jumped out of a plane without a parachute and didn't die? No drunk person, I'm almost certain you had a parachute or else you would not be standing here in a drunken state talking to me. (not a real story, just an example.). Also they always try to tell you they're younger than they are. You're 25? You have grey hair and wrinkles. Uh-Uh don't think so mister, nice try though. Some people are violent. I try to avoid these at all costs, I'm out to have a good time, not die. Some are absolute perves. No! You cannot chat me up person who is three times my age. Ugh. However, even if some of these memories can be quite disturbing for us, they can all build up to make pretty good story material and one things for sure, you'll always remember those times. I do laugh when I think about the crazy times I've had on nights out, sometimes I laugh at myself for being so ridiculous, other times I laugh at others for being so god damn entertaining. But hey, it's never gonna stop right? So why not embrace the mad and weird times? After all life's gotta have a bitta spice. Or else it's just plain boring.

While it's good to go out and have the craic with a bitta alcohol thrown in, I feel obliged to add that you should most definitely be careful when it comes to alcohol. Especially all you young'uns out there who've yet to find their happy medium. Don't over do it on the experimenting. Trust me, I've been on the wrong side of alcohol one too many times. It ain't too pretty. Go out, have fun, laugh and be silly. You're only young once, make the best of it while you can.

Why Oh Why?

This post is about things I don't understand (you might not care but I'm going to tell you anyway!). Why do people think it's necessary to add frills, flowers and bows etc. to the majority of girls clothing? We're not all in favor of this particular fashion trend. Some of us like to dress in shirts and jeans. It may not be typical attire for girls but who cares? There is absolutely no need what so ever to add frills, to like EVERYTHING, does it not itch really bad? I. don't. like. frilly. things.

Another thing. When I watch TV in the evenings, you know, after a long hard day of doing absolutely nothing (it's tiring stuff really), my family decide to not talk but shout to one another during the show and then during the ad breaks they shut up. Why? This really confuses me. Ad breaks are vital talking time. Nobody cares about ads. Don't. interrupt. my. watching. TV.

Algebra. It makes absolutely no sense to me. Never did. To this day I have not used it since leaving school. What was the point in learning it? Simple. There is none. Although, a maths teacher once told me that it is used when building a rocket ship, cause ya know, that was totally next on my list of things to do. It. is. useless. (except for those who study mathematical things of course)

Wrapping paper. I love it, don't get me wrong or anything. But. You wrap all these gifts, they look extremely pretty. Then you rip all that paper off and throw it out. Isn't that a waste of money? Why buy it for it to be ripped off days later. I've resorted to buying bags, at least you can reuse these and  I hate wasting money. Just. be. practical.

Ireland's weather. What up with that? I know the majority of you guys will agree with me. Snow in April? Rain in July? Sun in November? What is going on? It frustrates me not knowing the seasons, this is something that is essential to know. Ireland. quit. being. bipolar.

Fake tan. Now this I really don't understand. People, we're Irish, we're not supposed to be tanned. It's like the law or something. And like sometimes (a lot of the time) it looks orange. Actually, the other day I saw this girl and she had fake tan on but it looked like she forgot to finish it because it stopped at her ankles. It was pretty obvious that tan was not real. Plus, your face always looks far lighter than the rest of your body. That's not supposed to be the case. But ya know, if that's what you're into work away. I'll be stickin' to the traditional white. I'm pale and proud!

High Heels. Good god. I tried them. I gave up. They hurt. They're unstable. They're a lot of unnecessary hassle, sure just throw on the oul converse and you'll be grand! No need for all that stilt (to me, they feel like stilts)  malarkey.  All that balancing is just too much concentration. No bueno dude, no bueno.

People. I just don't get them at all. They go out in little to no clothing in the winter time (are you not cold?!?). They complain about a ridiculous amount of things. They never know what they want. And the thing I don't understand the most about people (including myself) is why they just can't be direct. If everybody was direct about what they feel/think (okay, maybe not everything, I don't want to know everything) then the world would be a more understanding place.

Finally, I. don't. get. Snuggies. A blanket with sleeves? Have you never heard of a dressing-gown? And why is it open at the back? That means only the front of you is warm. That defeats the purpose of blanket methinks.And lets not forget it looks absolutely ridiculous (and please don't even try to tell me it doesn't cause I will turn and walk the other way).  It is one of the most pointless things invented in the world. Along with the pet massager (why would I want to massage my pet?) and the pizza fork (I don't eat pizza with a fork, so why would I want a pizza fork?). These things exist. I swear.

Judgment.

This is a serious post. Just because I do this thing where I pretend everything is all fun and games so that I can avoid the serious topics. Unfortunately, life is filled with seriousness (but fun too). The topic of this post is judgment. I hate it. It is the most utterly degrading thing in the world. People make assumptions at first glance, without a second thought. Why? What gives you the right?

I've been judged. My friends have been judged. My family has been judged. Everybody has been judged at some point. Doesn't make it feel any better. Actually, it makes it worse, knowing that those who judge you know how it feels but they do it anyway. The purpose of this post is to maybe, just maybe, make you think before you judge.

You might think you know a person but you really don't have a clue. That still doesn't give you a right to call them names or make them feel shite about themselves. You don't know what they've been through, what they've had to deal with, could be nothing, could be something. You could be the final straw. Don't make them give up. Life shouldn't be something to give up on. It should be enjoyable. Don't be the one that makes them hate the world.

And to those who are judged don't change just because of other peoples opinion of you. It's not worth your time or energy. It all becomes irrelevant anyway. You'll move on. They'll move on. You probably won't even remember them in ten years time. Just be you and that's all anybody can ask from you. They don't have the right to ask anything more. It's not their life.

So I'll end this post now cause I don't want to rant on for ages. Just please think before you judge somebody. Think about what they might be going through in their own life. Walk in their shoes for a second then walk away. Don't say or do anything. Just walk away.

P.S. I just got called a bagel by a certain somebody (you know who you are). I feel hurt that you equate me to a piece of 'crusty bread with a hole in the centre' (I'm not really hurt. I'm just exposing you as a name caller to the internet.). I've also been called a spoon before, people gotta get some better insults!

Cajun chicken bagel without the chicken?

So recently I started a new job. Well, new in the sense that I haven't worked in that particular premises before. However, I have been a waitress since I was fifteen. Now, the title may seem strange but there is a funny story behind it which I will proceed to tell you. Yesterday was my first day on the deli (in this job), as you might guess I was kind of nervous about this as it is very stressful and a lot to remember in one day. So as I was being trained these two people came to the counter. Now was my time to shine, to show my skills. Or so I thought. The two customers asked for a toasted Cajun chicken bagel each, which was grand, pretty straight forward. I mean, there's a list on the side of the fridge with the ingredients on it so ya know, just follow that and I'll be flying it. I went ahead and made the bagels anyway and gave them to the customers. Shouldn't have done that. Why you ask? Wait for it..

I FORGOT THE BLOODY CHICKEN. I mean seriously. I know I'm a bit on the daft side at the best of times but the clue is in the name, it's a Cajun chicken bagel. I don't know about you folks but I'd say it's pretty darn obvious what's in that bagel. I can't believe I did that.. (but really it's a very typical me thing to do)

And while we're on the topic of funny stories here's another one for ya. Last summer while my Mam was away, I decided I'd be good and clean the house (I swear this wasn't because I had people coming over for a house party or something..pfft...who would do that while parents are away?). Anyway, there's this mirror that my Mam has wanted to hang in the downstairs bathroom for yonks now. So I thought, can't be that hard? I decided I'd try my hand at D.I.Y. My nearest and dearest know that I'm a very clumsy person (I know, odd trait for a waitress) so this was most definitely not my forte. But sure never know unless you try right? So I went ahead and drilled holes in the wall (after measuring the distances of course), then put the screws in the wall etc, etc. but then, when I tried to put the mirror up, it didn't fit. I could have sworn I measured it properly. I was wrong. So I took out most of the screws but went I got to the last one, it got stuck in the god damn wall! I couldn't get it out, I even got people to try at my party but it didn't work! In the end I hung a compact mirror on it and hoped my Mam wouldn't notice. She did. It was probably funnier at the time but I mean come on..those of you who know me, can you imagine me trying to hang a mirror? I think I overestimate my abilities..a lot. So now we have a random screw and multiple holes in our bathroom wall, and people still ask questions.. 

Moral of these stories: 

1. Don't enter the waiting profession. Ever. Trust me, it's not as fun or easy as it looks. And you forget all sorts of things. Like chicken in a bagel.

2. Don't be a feminist and think you can D.I.Y. I mean, please, you will hurt yourself with things like hammers and drills. These are men's jobs. Screw the feminist movement.