The writing is small and more curved and often illegible, even to the author. Paragraphs frequently begin here.

Instead of down here.

Sometimesthewordsaresorapidthere’snocomingupforair

AND TOO OFTEN THE CAPS LOCK IS LEFT ON UNNECESSARILY WHEN

Making a point quietly would be a more effective way of being heard

Especially when it comes to discussing matters that are not so black or white

Shhh *index finger up to lips*

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

That sort of silence is grand for those posts that require some

But background ♫♫ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♫♫♫ ♪ ♫ ♬ is always preferable. (Name that tune for a bonus prize)

Centred, I am not

And I usually

 take the

scenic route

to what it is I want to say. Like I do here.

Or here.

Or here.

Or here.

Using numbers to make a point could possibly help because:

1. It allows people to use their fingers to demonstrate their counting skills, usually beginning with their thumb
2. It helps set them up to slip in a third point even when it’s not required because if it were to end on 2. it would be an anti-climax, and 3 is the accepted norm. And
3. (generally the middle finger, coincidentally) It gives a person three opportunities to reinforce how annoying they are (trails off in self-satisfied tone)

Bullet points are for

• shopping lists
• work tasks
• packing inventories
• Christmas present lists
• fantasy luxury items
• the pros and cons of everything
• use alongside asterisks to denote special priority status on any item from the aforementioned lists

An asterisk AND a bullet point means it’s fairly urgent.

A little Δ next to a • next to a * indicates serious procrastination. If it reaches the inclusion of a #, then a financial penalty is inevitable.

The compulsion to admit any of this and other random thoughts publicly cannot be filed away under lifestyle. A pathology, maybe. Or a mild form of psychosis, if combined with the urge to take a home-cooked marshmallow encrusted kipper to the term ‘lifestyle’ and beat it to a pulp before reversing over it in a specially imported Trabant.

The reasons are simple.

1. *sticks out thumb* It’s one of those bland terms that smears beige all over the world
2. It’s the first cousin of work-life balance, working mother guilt, and other dumbed down aspects of life that are sanitised and saddled on us by well-dressed media types who confuse glossy publishing for a public service
3. It’s a compound word and they’re dangerous. Like pro-life, anti-austerity, and Stephen-fry.

A lifestyle choice

One blogger’s attempt at a credible post title is another’s flimsy twist on a haggard pop cultural reference.

One blogger’s subdued, minimalist theme is another’s so bland and lacking all character.

One blogger’s lovingly curated family album for posterity is another’s idea of setting them up for a surprise Truman Show type ending when they’re old enough.

One blogger’s honest heartfelt piece is another’s honest heartfelt piece. Oh. How did that happen? Regularly, no doubt.

One blogger’s honest heartfelt piece is occasionally another’s honest but somewhat inauthentic piece that ever so slightly feels more concerned with appealing to potential editors and a variety of audiences.

One blogger’s Malcolm Tucker linked laugh is another’s opportunity for a spectacular eye-roll.

One blogger’s factual blog is another’s insight to that person’s life.

One blogger’s TMI is another’s GSOH.

One blogger’s considered account of their experience of depression is another blogger’s considered account of that experience of depression.

One blogger’s considered account of a personal issue is another’s overstepping the mark.

One blogger’s considered account of a personal issue is another’s considered account of a personal experience of that issue.

One blogger’s passive aggressive post is another’s fair game post.

One blogger’s fair game post is another’s passive aggressive post.

One blogger’s exposure of their vulnerability is another’s compulsion to volunteer on behalf of the seemingly unhealthy limits of that blogger’s boundaries.

One blogger’s compulsion to volunteer on behalf of the seemingly unhealthy state of another blogger’s boundaries is another’s potentially dodgy veer into unquantifiable territory.

One blogger’s LOL is another’s WTF.

One blogger’s standards of respectability are another’s inadvertent instrument of shame and stigma.

One blogger’s attempt to break the damaging silence on taboo issues and help empower others is another’s bad taste and over-exposure. Depending on the taboo.

One blogger’s undeclared zone of discomfort is another’s willingness to step out of theirs and connect with others standing on the precipice of their own.

One blogger’s winning shine is a case of no shimmer to another.

One blogger’s award loser is another’s champion regardless.

One blogger’s off-beam stab at unpicking some sticky questions around value judgements we all make on blogging is another’s incomprehensible loada wank. Obviously.

Such is blogging.

On why blogging is like a long-term relationship

Life in a northern town

They’re just not that into you (Blogging etiquette and brush-offs)

On being ordinary (generally)

Blogging fatigue

The A to Z of blogging

Blogging for the sake of it

Songs I will never buy but burst on hearing

What blogging can tell me about my life

These are all draft posts that were swiftly abandoned after the opening paragraph. I think there’s a theme emerging.

*strokes chin*

A life less extraordinary;  Abortion;  Banksy;  Beards;  Belfast;  Blogging; Blogging versus mass;  Bono;  Borgen; Breastfeeding;  Caitlin Moran;  Careers;  Childcare;  Christmas memories;  Christmas present ideas for bloggers;  Demi Roussos;  Drinking;  Electric Picnic;  Escapism;  Exclamation marks;  Facebook egg-freezing;  Faith-based education;  Farting around;  Family;  Family life;  Fathers;  Father & daughter;  Fathers Day;  Feminism;  Film;  First love;  Fish fingers; Friendship;  40th birthday;  Gay Byrne;  Gender quotas;  Gigs of 2014;  Going solo;  Hanging up the baby-making boots;  Happiness Day;  Home;  Home while away;  International Women’s Day;  Inventions;  Irish erotica;  Irish Times letters page; Jackie-O Shades;  Job-hunting;  John Waters;  Katie Hopkins;  Leaving Cert.;  Lifelogging;  London;  Love actuary;  Lucinda Creighton; Making a dick of myself in work;  Mangled poetry;  Marriage;  Media; Meet the sheep;   Mental health;  Motherhood;  Mothers Day;  Music; Newborn nostalgia;  New Year’s Eve;  Northern Ireland;  One hundred days of blogitude;  Outrage;  Parenting ;  Paul Durcan;  Pert breasts;  Pope Francis;  Pregnancy & birth;  Protest songs;  Quiz;  Ray D’arcy;  Reviews;  Rituals;  Rose of Tralee;  Sacrilege;  Siblings;  Smalltalk;  Spontaneity;  Summer holidays;  Sunday Bloody Sunday;  Third birthday;  Top 5s;  The Angelas;  The dangers of lying down;  The GAA;  The new me;  The stupid shit that goes on in my head;  Tuam babies;  2014 in retrospect;  2015 (apparently) ;  Voting; Valentines’s Day;  Wedding anniversary;  Wimmin;  Workplace;  Worst Case Scenario Handbook;  Yawn.

Eh, there was no porridge left so I made a bit of a head start on the cake

365 days. 160 blog posts. 1,976 half-heard conversations with my fella. One mighty thanks to you for kindly sticking yer head round the door to humour me and trade the odd bita banter. Champagne for my real friends, as the man says, and Football Special for my blogging friends. Wee Birdie, the vintage black label Irn Bru is on its way to you from a Fr. Ted look-a-like. Apparently there are only three in existence. Rod Stewart has one but no-one is certain about the other.

And as a little gift to meself…

Top 5 reasons to take a wee rest from blogging using song titles

1. A man needs a maid

2. I Killed a Party Again

3. I Wanna Go to Marz

4. Running on empty

5. Comes a time

I couldn’t find any songs with ‘getting rid of the muffin top’ in the title. Leave it with me. I’ll see what I can do and come back and share it with the group.

Meanwhile, in the words of one of the true heroines of the silver screen….

Keep swimming

Dory, Finding Nemo

Except I don’t know how to do a linky proper. This is sure to fall to an arse before it takes off but I’ll give it a bash anyway.

All credit to my favourite feathered friend, Wee Blue Birdie at Little Steps to Somewhere for inspiring this risky move by nominating me to answer ten questions of her own, which were…

1. What kind of bird would you be, and why?

I’d be …’like a bird on the wire. Like a drunk in the midnight choir. I have tried in my way to be free’.

I guess we’re all birds of some sort already *sticks two fingers in mouth*

2. Which period of history had the best clothing?

I fancy I would’ve been more sophisticated in a flapper dress brandishing a 9 inch cigarillo holder than a Johnny Blue, but alas, being middle-aged, I can see I would have needed a jumper to keep warm. Not a good look. Poverty shawl chic in colonial Ireland was alright. But joking about the famine is not permitted. Unfortunately, it’s not covered under our progressive blasphemy law.

3. In which film do you wish you had played the lead? What would you have brought to the role?

Rob in High Fidelity – the record shop, the record collection; the encyclopedic knowledge of music; the one-on-one time with philosopher Bruce in the proverbial confession box of life; the dedicated commitment to top fives; and getting the girl in the end.

I’d have brought an authentic neurosis to the agonising compiling of top fives, and a reminder that music is a passion for women also, not just an occasional spectator sport.

4. What was your favourite toy when you were a child?

A furry Bert from Sesame Street. He was going through a hard time after splitting from Ernie. Life with my family was becoming increasingly intolerable. We were both in the wrong place at the right time, so we formed our own exclusive support group down the back of my folks’ garden. We, like, really talked, y’know?

Our girl’s favourite toy these days is Ernie. He appears to be in a perpetual state of grinning. I reckon he’s on something.

5. If you could be in the Olympics, what would your sport be?

Schadenfreude , sleeping in, and film marathons. A triathlon, in short.

6. If you could cure one human illness or disease, what would it be and why?

Incurable greed.

7. What is your favourite urban myth, and why do you want it to be true?

That Bono is in pursuit of justice for the developing world. Because it would save me a lot of energy hectoring folk about how his approach is part of the problem, and balancing a few incontrovertible facts with my occasional appreciation of the early music of the Onob Quartet.

8. What is your favourite unusual word?

Oblong

9. How would you like your writing to influence the world, or affect those who read it?

I suspect I’m the one who reads it most. I reckon it has already prevented me from going postal, or – God forbid – finding God. Or worse still – running. Good for personal positive mental health, and for the world at large by curbing the body count.

Oh, and I’m not sure if this blog will continue to bob about in the ether long enough for our daughter to access it, but I would hope she would derive something positive from reading it. If only a satisfying eye-roll.

10. What is the best thing about being you?

Not being a conjoined twin. Time alone with my wonderful array of friends would be awkward. I’d have to compromise greatly when considering how to fuck up the many wonderful second chances I’ve been given in life.

Deciding who to pass the parcel on to with ten fresh questions is an impossible task, so in the interests of curiosity and a chance to broaden the potential pool of responses, I’m throwing it out to everyone I follow and who might be looking in. The brotherhood and sisterhood of blog alike. (That includes you, birdie. Maybe only you. Probably hehe)

Ten questions for your dismissal/consideration..

1. What single question asked of a person can tell you a lot about that person?
2. What, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?
3. If you had to place a personal advert on a dating site using not more than 150 words from lyrics of a song or poem, what would they be?
4. Tell us a joke
5. What were you like at school? Are you much different now?
6. If you had to re-name your blog, what would you call it and why?
7. What five guests, living or dead, would you invite to your fantasy dinner party and why?
8. Do you have a favourite sexual fantasy? What sorts of things would you like to do in life if you were as outgoing and uninhibited as you wish?
9. What does someone ‘having character’ mean to you?
10. Name your top five favourite sit-coms

PLEASE PLEASE PARTICIPATE  No pressure but feel free to join in. Cut ‘n’ paste or respond with haste (sorry).

Welcome to Tenderness Towers. Today, I thought I’d give you a rare intimate tour of headquarters. Specifically, around some of its more irritating fixtures and features. Let’s not waste any more precious time and get to it…

1. The fork

For fork’s sake

Let’s face it, unless you live in Scandinavia, or Japan, every cutlery drawer is a potentially mixed ability group. Ours is no exception. Despite perpetually losing teaspoons, radiator keys, and decanting it regularly of asylum-seeking rubber bands, we can’t seem to manage to ditch this fork. While you’re rolling your eyes there, just remember those times you’ve frustratingly tried to tuck into some tasty grub with a flimsy plastic fork. Exactly. This fork isn’t fit to lift cold Chinese in the event of a hangover. And that’s sayin’ something.

2. Mr Tall Kitchen Roll Holder

As seen on Pinterest

Proof that not all impulse buys work out.

3. Our letterbox

Name that tune in 5000

Moving into the hall, you’ll see our musical letterbox. The blue towel is inserted in a futile effort to prevent it from knocking itself off either side of the door day and fucking night.  Funny for the first five minutes when you have guests round and ask them to answer the door. Not funny thereafter. Ever.

4. Our shower 

Every Irish Dad’s dream ‘economic’ shower

Would you look at the head on that. Position it any lower and the water goes cold. All 2 cubic centimeters of it. It’s alright for you there living in your developed countries with your less-than-half-an-hour hair rinses. Smugness moves in horrible ways.

5. The lampshade in our bedroom 

“And then she sniffed the perfume bottle and said “hmm, that smells like ‘come to me'”. And says I to Majella, Majella, c’mere to me, does that smell like cum to you?”

AKA: The tumbleweed.

*sharp wind coming through*

6. Unidentifiable immobile object

*Shrugs* Me neither. Possibly some sort of industrial art installation. Popular in the ’80s along with those Globe shaped drinks’ cabinet as the latest must-have to wow your friends with over prawn cocktail followed by some artic roll.

It’s that time of year again. I wonder how many blog posts have started with that opening line. It is that time of year again so I’m fucked if I’m going to deviate from tradition on this one. That’s right. When you get to spend quantity time with extended family before retreating from the trauma to cocoon yourself from the dispirited this Christmas. Time to kick back and tuck into a box-set without fear of the suggestion to watch just one more episode being rejected on the grounds of having to rise for work in the morning. When you can recline and adjust the volume levels to ensure compatibility with the symphony of your snacking; occasionally glancing at your couch companion with deep resentment as he pops open a tube of Pringles. Vital dialogue has been missed, subtle plot lines overlooked, and many a murderous thought hatched to the pneumatic chomp of them. You’ve only yourself to blame for the tortilla nights.

But you dare not complain. Apart from giving off more than a mild whiff of unreasonableness, you’ve already demonstrated your own patience-defying feats with insistence you’ll be there in just a minute. That was half an hour ago but you are up to your delete button finishing a vital blog post. Sure, aren’t they all? “Yeah. I’m coming. Just a sec”. Ah the common refrain of the blogger, Mexican waving its way through the corridors of their domestic domains with mild irritation and an implied plea for flexibility for the writer (!) at work. Between on-the-spot responses to divine inspiration, and quick reads of others, the equivalent time of one episode has already been squandered  passed.

So, top of the list of the must-haves for the blogger this Christmas…

1. A Gift Voucher

The sneered at, but secretly loved, gift that demonstrates an attempt at effort. Might I suggest a custom made one for weekday night blogging curfew until 9pm. The perfect way to introduce some passive aggressive discipline to the influence the blogger has on your life. This way they’ll be finished by 9:30pm, if you’re lucky. Enough time to catch a few requisite episodes of nightly entertainment spanning political espionage/child abduction/drug underworld violence/serial killing sprees/killer vegetables etc. (delete as appropriate) before bed. Valid for 12 months.

This voucher cannot be exchanged for sex. 

2. Inspiration

A blogger is always poised to pillage your mishaps, forage your funny ways, and sell your soul. So be a good partner, and inspire them. Make it one of your New Year resolutions to apply yourself better to this task; mindful to always stay just on the right side of endearingly OCD, clumsy, forgetful, charming, irritated, psychotic etc. (delete as appropriate).

3. Mind-reading and silence

“Did I tell you my head went septic earlier and I nearly lost an arm?” If the answer from the blogger to your attempts at initiating conversation is “Sorry?”, that’s just code for “Look I’m in the middle of a really important thought, please be quiet for at least ten minutes”. And if you have to ask the blogger if they’d like a drink and/or some tortilla chips then you really don’t know him/her at all. Periodic snacks and a variation of warm and cold drinks are mandatory.

4. Encouragement

This might seem counter-intuitive if your ultimate aim is to contain this infectious disease and curb the influence of it on your partner’s duty of care to you/themselves/the family/the household etc.; but like all bloggers, they need validation. *Bruce Forsythe voice* And what does validation equal? Fuck knows. I haven’t thought about it till now. How about.. a need for even more validation? Either way, it won’t kill you. Don’t overdo it either with excessively flattering lines about converting their writing into something more lucrative and pointing out the bottomless pit of their talent. They’ll only believe you and blame you when it never happens. And eventually cotton-on to the intensity of your delusion being consistent with your lack of interest in going out for a night. “Don’t delay, Darling. Get to work on that novel. And fetch me some Pringles on your way through”. Hmmm.

5. Cold turkey

No. We don’t mean another round of sandwiches from the interminable seasonal bird. No, I’m not talking about Julie Andrews either. If the blogger is exhibiting signs of disinterest in the chocolate you leave by the keyboard, and unkempt hair, then it may be time to stage an intervention. Either lock the blogger or the computer up, so long as you keep them separate. The first three days are known to be the worst. A straight jacket is advisable here. Much thrashing about and ranting about stats will likely ensue. This is the mind re-adjusting. Lock all doors and windows to prevent the blogger from running away to an internet cafe, and remove their phone.

6. Your own blog

Alternatively, you could just join in. That way you can arrange the forthcoming week’s parenting/shopping/snack schedule through your respective comments sections.

As rhetorically posed by another blogger I read earlier in the context of generating a wider audience, which made me wonder…

Without an audience, would blogging still be to words what needles are to knitting?

Without an audience, would the buzz from the concentration required to knit words together still be a satisfying distraction from everything else?

Without an audience, would there be a mass of never-ending scarves?

Without an audience, would that distraction still lead to a good neurobics workout?

Without an audience, would that workout still occasionally lead the blogger down more oriental streets of thought, where the wall between subconscious and self-conscious is at its thinnest?

Without an audience, would it still be worth the thrill of reaching the weakest point in that wall?

Without an audience, does an unread post with typos still have typos?

Without an audience, can a blog post still be considered read, if only by its creator?

Without an audience, how many bloggers does it take to change a light-bulb?

Don’t you just hate those annoying fuckers who answer a question with a question?

*fuse blows in light*

Hello? Hello?

Shit

1. Share a step-by-step recipe for your beans and toast (with photos)

2. Share photos of your prescription drug display in your medicine cabinet

3. Ditto your underwear drawer

4. Re-visit your worst blog post and explain why it was shite

5. Break some news… that you just made up

6. Write a brief history on your favourite stationery item

7. Review a light-bulb

8. Create a beginner’s guide to maintaining an anonymous blog

9. Write out things you learned strictly from looking at Miriam O’Callaghan

10. Rant about someone else’s rant

11. Write a list of the things you would hate people to know about you

12. Review the Woman’s Way – then and now

13. List the most annoying tips bloggers give to other bloggers about blogging

14. Keep a sleep diary

15. Campaign for a father only day when parenting blogs are given over to fathers for one day

16. Write about your top 5 favourite glass ceilings

17. Speculate on what your child(ren) will make of your blog whenever they get round to reading

18. Make a note to your 65 year old self

19. Define the word ‘intelligent’

20. Conduct a survey on people’s favourite cheeses

21. List the topics you fear coming up in conversation socially

22. Review ‘The Book of Questions’

23. Suggest who should play the role of other bloggers in a film featuring other bloggers you know only through blogging

24. Interview men on their experiences and trials of fatherhood

25. Produce an advert for blogging

26. List your favourite 26 men who share your nationality in alphabetical order

27. Ditto your 26 favourite women applying the same criteria

28. Review your next take-away meal

29. Write a job description and spec for a would-be blogger

30. Write a short story with the opening line… “The lift door closed and I turned to see Michael Flatley staring straight at me”

31. Make a list of five contemporary women promoting accessible feminism that doesn’t include Caitlin Moran

32. Write about the challenges of blogging whilst dying to go to the toilet

33. Conduct an imaginary interview with Stephen Fry

34. Predict the future of baby led weaning

35. Create a plot-line for a B movie

36. Create a how-to post on how to avoid people in public without them being certain you saw them

37. Give ideas on how you would re-vamp the traditional Irish wedding if you were in charge

38. Eat a packet of Oreos in one go and review it

39. Describe your worst farting experience in public

40. Your favourite inanimate household object

41. List your most annoying idiosyncrasies

42. Show your reader a history of your life in haircuts

43. Review your child(ren)

44. Rate your potential as a reasonable future mother/father-in-law

45.  Describe what you see when you look in the mirror

46. Tell us about the five favourite couples in your life

47. Post a post in your own hand-writing

48. Explain the origins of your last decent belly laugh

49. List your top five older bloke/woman crushes

50. Give 10 reasons why Bono-bashing is not based on begrudgery

51. Which TV chef would you shag if you had to?

52. Describe your idea of hell

53.  Host a competition: What do you think is Annabel Karmel’s real name? Winner gets a year’s supply of organic cupcake mix

54. Write about the time you were caught having sex and how you dealt with it

55. Talk about your favourite building

56. List those words you don’t really understand that you have to bluff your way around

57. You’ve put yourself forward as an independent candidate at the next election. Write your manifesto

58. List the reserve names you had for your children that you didn’t use

59. Address the leader of your country in 800 words

60. Assemble a 12 song soundtrack to your life so far

61. Name the cheesiest album in your collection

63. List your top five favourite lists to make

64. Review your sofa

65. Describe the contents of your bin

66. Speculate about what your dress sense says about you

67.  Tell us what you were doing exactly 19 years ago today

68. Conduct your own blog awards ceremony and issue your own gongs

69. Reveal the foods you’ve been known to eat straight from the shopping bag on the drive home

70. Make a really long list filled with nonsense

71. Review that list and ask for other suggestions

72. Write a post with the tag ‘existentialism’ and ‘fish fingers’ attached

73. Over-rated tourists attractions to avoid

74. Who would play you in a fictionalised account of your life

75. Give a history of your love life in 200 words

76. The shortest job you’ve ever had and why

77. In praise of your favourite swear word

78. Has fetishizing parenting gone too far? Discuss

79. I can’t believe…… (insert what you can’t believe here)