On Friday night I had to stay in, forgoing a night of music and food in The Beachcomber, my usual Friday night haunt. My reason for staying in was my unsightly appearance due to a galloping eye irritation from an as yet unknown source. I had hoped to be cured of this ghastly allergic reaction by having a make up free week, but having to get my photograph taken for my national identity card on Tuesday I plastered myself. I was not going to have myself appear to the nation or the Gardai should I ever have to produce it, as a stand in for Honey Boo Boo’s mother or indeed a poster girl for hardened criminals.
So that night I played a game of poker badly, arsed around on Facebook and wrote a blog. I posted said blog on my Facebook page, had some witty banter with a friend about it and asked people to share it and off to bed I went. It got a good response the next day, I was delighted. Some people shared it without me needing to promise them money or sexual favours. I went global, no really I did, as of now as I am writing this I’ve had one person in Mauritius and one in Malaysia that read my blog, I went from 4 followers (including me) to twelve and in any man’s language that’s a 300% rise and if you take me out of the equation, that makes it 400%. Jaysus I hope I got those figures right because in my real life as an accounts assistant (unemployed) I’ll never get another job if I’ve ballsed up those stats.
I HAD MADE IT! My life was going to change forever. I’d have publishing houses beating a path to my door, designers wanting to dress me, producers wanting me to write scripts. I’d have hangers on, assistants at my beck and call. I’d be invited to dinners where people would hang onto my every word and wait for me to say something profound like ‘Those lamb shanks are gorgeous, did you get them in Aldi?’ They would ponder those words and take it to mean that I was raging against the world where lambs are preyed upon by global capitalists and they would vow to turn vegetarian. When what I really meant was, I like the lamb shanks from Aldi, the minty ones especially. I’d be asked to premiers, back stage at concerts, to write forewords for books, to present Nobel prizes. I would be invited to Áras an Uachtaráin where Michael D would grant me the freedom of Dublin. I would have a free pass to the Aviva Stadium to watch all the rugby matches and myself, my husband, Dricco and his missus Amy would hang out. I HAD MADE IT!
Well nearly, if anyone was looking for me the past hour I have done the following: picked out my own clothes, which was easy enough, I just picked the clothes I wore yesterday off the floor and added an extra layer for warmth. I cleaned the bathroom upstairs including emptying the bin of tampon applicators those bitches I’m rearing are too lazy to throw away discreetly. I refereed a match between the dog and the vacuum cleaner, the result of which was Dyson 1 Gnasher 0. I put a wash on, folded the clothes that were dry on the clothes horse, hung the wash in the machine from yesterday on the horse. Drank tea, smoked fags and occasionally looked out the window to see if any publishers were out there. Tonight when I go to bed I will slather my whole face in Emulsifying Ointment to keep the dryness at bay after the whole eye thing and I will keep my hair back with a pair of knickers on my head for the want of a hair band.
I will live in hope and hashtag the bollox out of this to get noticed….
noelsters 