More on motoring

It may seem as though I have become a little bit obsessed with motoring or more specifically the field of motoring disasters. The tale I am to tell is a true story, it has it all:

• snow
• rescues
• a cat
• handsome boys
• a super Granny.

Wouldn't it be great if your petrol gauge never moved, you always had enough fuel to go from A to B, never having to make an annoying stop off inevitably when you are running late or during a surprise electrical storm? This has always been my dream anyway. One day, when not doing a good job of separating dreams from reality, my petrol gauge began to work against me. I reckoned I definitely had enough to get home and because it was snowing, there was no way I could possibly run out. I was thinking this as I cruised into the hard shoulder after my engine had given its final cough.

I waited for a few minutes thinking about what I could do to rectify the situation, or in reality what was keeping my knight in shining armor? I was on a busy stretch of road and not too far from a petrol station. I was just summoning the courage to make the brave trek when a crane pulled in ahead of me. I saw a guy hopping out of the passenger side and I presumed he was being dropped off. I was a little surprised when he approached me.

"Hello, are you broken down? Can I help you? I can tow you if needs be?"

In my head: Yes, I need your help. Are you a) a serial killer b) a crane driving maniac or c) a helpful soul? I risked C.

I explained my predicament and was offered a lift to the petrol station. In case you didn't know this, you access the drivers cab of a crane via the passenger side. This was very exciting for me. The cab is a little more plush than one would expect, a flask holder and fancy radio were two luxuries of note. My valiant hero dropped me off to the petrol station and then sadly went on about his business. I will save you the description of trudging back to the car in the snow, wearing cream jeans, high heels and carrying a petrol can.

Eventually I got the petrol into the car and it started. Happy days! I zoomed on home, the car and I reeking of fuel. I had read somewhere if you leave the windows open on a frosty night, it will get any smell out of a car. So I did this, feeling only a little smug. What a tale I had to tell, no one ever gets rescued by a crane!

The next day I was to bring my Granny shopping. I spruced myself up, as one does for a Granny inspection and prepared for our jaunt. I arrived at the car and went to open the door. Only to find someone already occupying the driver's seat. A tom cat. It was one thing to have a car slightly smelling of petrol, but believe you me, its a very different story when you meet the olfactory cocktail that is tom cat plus petrol. I couldn't leave my Granny in the lurch, I would have to drive the car.

I drove to Granny's with the windows down and a scarf over my face. Granny was a very heavy smoker, unless I had sat the tom cat on her lap she would not have noticed the smell. I suggested that Granny light up as soon as she got in, she was delighted with this. As we drove, we caught up on news, all the usual stuff, all the time me encouraging the smoking, anything was better than the current pungency. I kept the windows down, I thought I was onto a winner.

That particular day happened to be the semi-finals of the All Ireland Rugby Schools cup. I had not anticipated that the roads would be heaving with boys of all ages, over excited and geared up to cheer at any sight they may see...

As we drove, handsome boys shrieked through our open windows, Granny delighted cheering back, perhaps offering a few cigarettes on the side. This was until we stopped at traffic lights beside a particularly enthused car of gents who happened to be a little downwind from us. Their enthusiasm suddenly dimmed, one boy became green. The lights then changed. As we drove away I could see the boys were not following and their hazard lights were now on, I could just about make out two of the occupants who had been seated next to us leaving the vehicle and appearing to be violently sick.

Granny and I arrived at the supermarket and as always, I let her out at the main door and I went to park. I heartlessly drove towards the overpriced car valeting space, greeted with enthusiasm I asked for the full works, the employee seeing dollar signs. Walking away, I heard him radioing his head office for some back up...

So my friends, the next time you're running a little low, think twice before entering the red zone!

Be yourself, however unexpected the circumstances may be.

I generally float about in a cocoon of wonderfulness. Between nail appointments, a bit of work, some light household duties and heavy socializing, I really do lead a lovely existence. That was until our old friend Crash, boom, bang!

Who would have thought so much of my identity was attached to my car? I feel so lost without my mobile fashion accessory! How should one compensate? I had been thinking of perming my hair, but thanks to some advise from some bonny haired ladies, I have laid that idea to rest. I'm hoping perhaps to purchase a bright pink iPod Nano, this might help.

Once the retail therapy had successfully begun, I thought it would have been a bad idea to stop it. A bit like not finishing a prescribed course of medication. I shopped online for a short time and decided I wanted a cat. Sadly the boyfriend is allergic to cats, but I found a special breed called Ragdolls who apparently are allergy proof. I was so delighted. Glee filled I mentioned this to a group of friends. One person, perhaps no longer my friend, then told how these felines are not allergy proof and perhaps their appeal had been their affectionate nature? I am refusing to comment at this point.

In other unexpected circumstances, Crash, Boom, Bang! broke my eye. I have to have an eye operation on Monday as a result. I hate anything eye related. I don't even wear eyeliner, I am that eye phobic. Hopefully the results will give a fixed eye and a good blog post! x

No holes barred.

The joys of a birthday party. Cake, friends, delicious drinks and balloons. I sometimes find that one's own birthday party can be a little stressful, guest lists, food, will people come? Is everyone having a good time? So I think its important to have the best time possible when attending someone else's birthday. This works well in two ways: 1. The host sees that you are having a swell old time of it, therefore putting them at ease, one less guest to worry about. 2.You are having a swell old time of it.

The location of the party is a prime consideration.

• Will the room work?
  
• Is there enough space?
  
• Is there too much space?
  
• Where will I set up the drinks?
  
• Where will I put the coats?

If you find it impossible to answer these questions, it might be best to have it in a venue, like a function room of a pub. This my friends, is where my cautionary tale begins.
A good friend of mine was hosting their 30th birthday party in the function room of a popular Dublin pub. The area was nicely decorated with balloons and banners and there had been a satisfactory, if not a little dry, birthday cake. Towards the end of the evening I had taken up the traditional party pursuit of rubbing a balloon in ones hair and using the static charge to stick it to various objects and people about the room.
When closing time came, a bouncer came up to the area and went around each table and informing them individually that it was closing time. On his third consecutive round of all 12 remaining guests, I took the opportunity to stick the statically charged balloon to his bum. Somewhat like a bunnies tail.
The bouncer bobbed off with his pink tail, much to our amusement and continued re-informing us of closing time. Unfortunately for me, another bouncer had been monitoring the event closely and had spotted the arrival of the bunnies tail. He immediately swooped in and dramatically relieved his colleague of his new tail. Their glare then fell on me. They possessed the pent up fury of 12 hungry wolves. I was 'accompanied' down the stairs and placed in the doorway to await the manager of the establishment. When he appeared, he asked me my version of events. I recounted the incident in as light a tone as possible and fortunately the manager seemed to find it rather amusing. Sadly, though the bouncer did not. The result was a life long ban from the establishment. This was nearly 3 years ago and the door staff still have not changed. I remain barred.
So what to do if you get the urge to pin the tail on the bouncer? My advice, resist!

Crash, boom, bang!

So posts have been few and far between in February. This is due to an incident I'll refer to as crash, boom, bang.

I was minding my own business travelling to work. Only 20 mins late. I was just making a left turn into my office when suddenly I felt a bang. And I discovered a lady was driving her car into the passenger side of my car.

To cut a long story short, I'm down a car, a shoulder and a neck but have gained a solicitor. That's it.