Mo gluaisteán féin

Right. I'm going to do it. Nobody try to stop me! I have my mind made up and I'm not for turning! That is, unless said turning involves an indicator and a steering wheel. That's right, people: I am (well, maybe/possibly/we'll see, sure) getting a gluaisteán.

Not just any old gluaisteán, obviously. In order to make life as difficult as possible, I have decided on a list of presrequisites. So, I am looking for...

... a 1.4l, metallic Sapphire Blue, 3-door Peugeot 206 with power steering, electric front windows, driver's airbag (at least; I'd be happier with passenger's too) and remote central locking, with the lowest possible mileage (c. 50,000), alloys, sports spoiler, and front fog lights which are fitted as low-level spots on the lower front bumper. In short, this car:

... well, maybe not this exact car, this is just a bit less expensiv-o. Asking price on this is something like €7,500 whereas I am thinking more along the lines of maybe a '98/'99 reg for €4/5,000.

Even before I buy the bloody thing, I have an awful sense of foreboding that I will try to "improve" it. And before the snide comments about "souped-up" and "modified" cars begin to pour in, I would like to put on record that I consider those to be dirty words. I can expressly assure you that I will not be fitting a fire-spewing exhaust that emits a noise equivalent to the US army fleet taking to the air, a spoiler that would look more at home on the arse of a cruise ship, or naff tinted windows that even a secret agent embroiled in some dangerous undercover espionage would be loathe employ. Nonetheless, I would not be totally averse to a little twiddling and tweaking and some very minor additions or substitutions that would enhance the look of the thing. For starters, I'm thinking...

Exhibit A: Sports rear lights	Exhibit B: Drinks holder in place of stinky ashtray	Exhibit C: Sports spoiler

Worryingly, it seems like this kind of thing might just be the top of a slippery slope on the tip of an iceberg. From Crystal tail lights and a sporty spoiler, what if it's just a hop, a skip and a jump to resprays, neons, and (God between us and all harm) full body kits? I feel that I'd have been relatively safe from the temptation of fiddling with motors if I hadn't come across the "Pink My Ride" section of a UK car accessories site. I used to think of cars that had been toyed with by their owners as butch, noisy, and often just plain revolting.

Now, I can't help but wonder if any car is truly complete without pink LED valve caps, a pink neon gearknob, pink seats or carpet or mats, and maybe a few strategically placed Tinker Bell accessories for good measure...

Or maybe I should just abandon all subtlety in favour of summat like this (seriously, I wheely like it!)...

A fool and her money..?

I mentioned yesterday that one of the nice things I got over Christmas was cúpla Euro. I also got some currency in my birthday cards (it's January 8th, people; would it kill you to remember a date that's exactly two weeks after Christmas?) which was similarly fabulous. However, I didn't actually get to buy myself anything with this money because instead of sticking it under my matress and thinking about what I could invest this gift cash in, I used it on things like buses, the cinema, drinks etc because I wasn't arsed queuing for ATMs in the freezing cold. The upshot, of course, is that if I were to buy myself something nice now, it wouldn't feel like a present because I'd have to take the bloody money out of my own flippin' account!!

Nice one, genius.

Well, yesterday was *payday* (mmm) and I decided that I would get something lovely for myself as a present from someone who had given me moolah (are you keeping up?) Also, Himself is away in London at the moment so I needed some other pleasant means of occupying myself :)

I decided that I'd go with a luxury item, the kind of thing you wouldn't buy yourself with your own money, the kind of thing you've read about in magazines and heard people raving about and really wanted to purchase but weren't sure you could justify the expense.

Behold just such an item!

This is Eve Lom Cleansing Balm. It reportedly is the most amazing product ever, because it is supposed to replace the need for additional toner and moisturiser after cleansing. (And, frankly, if it's good enough for Trinny & Susannah and Kate Moss, you can be damn sure it's good enough for me.) There is a whole mini-massage routine that you perform while using it, before removing it with a muslin cloth which comes free with the cleanser.

Given the price of the stuff, Eve Lom herself should really be coming free with purchase. So I did my homework before buying it and read a number of reviews where people swore they would go without food before depriving themselves of this gear ever again. And if one product alone can sort out my skin, sure I'll practically be making money!

Used it for the first time last night and it was very, very nice, and my skin did feel great afterwards. I'll keep you posted...

Christmas pressie update!

It has just occurred to me that since I haven't been posting in aaaaages, I haven't had the opportunity to tell y'all what I got for Christmas! So see below for a quick synopsis of some of the rather nice gifts that were bestowed upon moi...

Himself came through with this very funky pink phone which I looooooove

Miraculous pore minimiser stuff courtesy of meine Schwester*

The nurse also came through with this book which I wasn't sure of at first because so much of what's been written about the "revelations" of The Da Vinci Code is absolute tripe. (Apparently, the words fiction and artistic license don't ring any bells with some people.) However, this is v. well written tome is a compedium of articles from scholars and Church skeptics, so it's nicely balanced and impartial.

Mam and Dad gave me The Complete Works of James Joyce but I haven't opened it yet because I read an article before Christmas which said that the estate of James Joyce are suing the publishers of this collection for breach of copyright and the books are supposed to have typos and cheekily re-use stories from Dubliners as books in their own right and I'd feel funny about being party to that kind of abuse. I wish I'd never seen the bloody article!!!!

I know it's a kids dressing gown. Grown-up sized ones just don't fit me, I too lickle! This one was another part of my pressie from Mam and Dad and it's so nice: fits perfectly, is cute and really soft and warm (N.B. at 6.20 in the morning!)

I also scored one of the best gifts ever... cold, hard CASH! (Well, actually it was room temperatured, loves-ya-back, foldable money. Frankly, I think some people give cash too much of a hard time.)

* remember folks: worrying about the size of your pores doesn't make you obsessive, narcissistic or imply you have awful skin thanks to a diet of pizza. It makes you a girl...

Blub, blub, blub.

I am a very bad person.

You can tell, because it has been almost a month since I posted anything here.

I mean, what kind of person would desert a poor defenceless little pink blog in such a manner?

One very much like me, apparently.

I am truly sorry for all my sins, especially for not blogging over Christmas. If I say five Hail Marys, will you forgive me? Even though I have perfectly valid reasons for not writing in so long (over Christmas I just wasn't arsed and I've actually been horrifically sick for the guts of the last fortnight) I still feel really bad about it, to the extent where my guilt is almost as acute as the permanent guilt that I have about my non-dog walking activity. Coco is a Pomeranian I sort of inherited from my Granny. She's 13, hard of hearing (although I suspect that’s really just selective deafness) and a bit arthritic, so she’s not really into trekking the Andes or any such hardcore walking but she likes to get out for a 5- or 10-minute ramble now and again. However, because the evenings are still dark and wintery and I don't get home from work until 7pm at the earliest and stuff 'n' stuff she doesn’t get to go walkies as often as I (or she, I'm sure!) would like.

Oh God, I am a terrible excuse for a person. And what's worse, now you all know the shameful truth! Blub.