Full Stop

The screen that first looked back in blank defiance

The defiant North typing up the drama queen’s highway

The crowning of her and him with words they’ll never see

The sight of the first of a million abortion stories already told

The last shelter of cherished anonymity giving it away for free

The feeling of standing beneath a downpour of thoughts unblocked

The poring over of puddles of muddles without a reigncoat on

The top fives, the Bono-bashing, the back-tracking, the track-listing

The listlessness, the taking the pissness, the carelessness

The fall into a deep comma, the semi-colonoscopies and

The

Final…

.

 

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16 from ’16

Sadhbh over at Where Wishes Come From has been running an end-of-year blog round-up for the last few years. I tend not to participate in these as I’m a lazy-arse and my blog seems to embarrassingly wander all over the place. But never one to miss out on a re-visit to the sound of my own voice, I had a browse through my blogging efforts for the past year. Despite the hap-hazardous feel to it all, I’ve noticed a few themes emerging over the years. So, here goes…

  1. Mangled lyrics post of the year 
  2. The obligatory Breda O’Brien bashing post of the year 
  3. In which I made it to one decent gig. Phew 
  4. What I got up to when I was left on my own unsupervised that time 
  5. Another break-up 
  6. In which I insult another hero 
  7. Indulgent chin-stroking
  8. In which I was actually happy 
  9. In which I was happy and sad at the same time
  10. This year’s brush with the law
  11. Sigh. Not the Rose of Tralee again? Yes, the Rose of Tralee again 
  12. The cliched letter to my…daughter 
  13. The unavoidable letters from a daughter 
  14. Re-blog of the year 
  15. Bono-bashing post of the year that wasn’t even written this year 
  16. Road-trip of the year

I will strive to maintain consistency in 2017.

Do join in the round-up. Sadhbh is very friendly. And she will also tell you how to pronounce her name.

tinkerbell

(Not Sadhbh)

Round-up: Favourite blog reads of the year

Admittedly, I miss writing, but I’d miss reading more if I couldn’t do it; and 2016 was the year of a few quality blog finds.

Here lies a handful of toppa the head reads. Some of the subject matter is serious, the matters diverse, with certain posts straying from the author’s main bag; but all are united by a wicked way with words, a lightness of depth, a depth of laugh, and a reservoir of chin-strokes to share out among their readers.

In order as random as they were read and written..

Prince and The feels by Tara Sparling

Other people’s children by Different Shores

A few words from our sponsors by Blathering About Nothing 

Musings on mumhood – feminism, love and grief by The Secret Life of a Manic Depressive

Different Worlds, Same Place by Little Steps to Somewhere

An Open Letter from Santa by Maxburbank

Virtual Advice by Elan Mudrow

Letter to My 70 year-old decrepit self by Aine Carson

Hospitality by Awfully Chipper

As for the forgotten – just take it that I take it that they know which ones they are. And feel free to share yer own.

Twitter twattle

Half back of a matchbox, half workshop discussion feedback section at the work away day.

That pretty much sums up my Twitter experience so far.

Back-of-matchbox-like in its relentless dedication to the succinct clever quote; workshop discussion feedback-y in its reverence to bullet-pointed summations of the big stuff. The stuff generally beyond control of worker bees to begin with; a reality overshadowed by enough flip-chart papered enthusiasm to provoke ordinary decent lethargic and bitter people to break into spontaneous applause at the end.

Suspending enough disbelief in the order of things to endure an exchange of woeful wisecracks with the super boss in the lunch queue is one thing; hovering over the reply button to your heroes on Twitter, quite another. It’s like nodding to the super super boss up ahead but inches from the lasagne or curry (the truly powerful), only to discover they are waving at the super super super boss three worker bees behind. I’m kidding myself the away day lunch queue is as effective a leveler between folk as it fancies itself to be.

It’s all part of the Weird Evangelical Group Effect (WEGE), first observed at gatherings of neighbours round the touring Child of Prague for a few jams of the rosary back in ’70s Ireland, and subsequently while wearing uncomfortably tight underwear. Every group gathering since those early glory-bes has required a suspension of  disbelief of one variety or another. And Twitter is no different, if slightly more bizarre and colourful in its composition.

School. Work. The ferry to Scotland passenger list. The Brethren of Bono Basher Begrudgers. The Order of Mars Bars. Cheese Appreciation Societies. Repeal The Righteous Campaign. Come Dine With Me Fanclub. Friends of the Stephen Fry Seeking Missile. It’s always the same: the cool flourish, the charismatic are drooled over (by me, cooly), and every so often a guest speaker accidentally lands beside me in the lunch queue and all the best laboured-over one-liners in my head sound like an exclamation mark just farted when released. Round of applause at the end though.  We all really connected.

So, back to the relative chaos of my own desk I retreat thereafter. Vowing to not let it deteriorate into such a mess as before. A fews post at a time, if at all. Forget slow blogging. Welcome to Cluster Blogging. In which spurts of mouthing-off are punctuated by relatively more peaceful periods of silence. That is, if I succeed in suspending enough disbelief in myself.

matchbox

An early Twitter feed from the 1970s

Everything you never wanted to know about me but couldn’t be arsed asking

Welcome to my latest blog experiment in which  I attempt to balance my neurotic privacy with the perfectly formed indifference of the blog’s readers. All..erm.. dozen of them.

Got a question you’re not fussed about knowing the answer to? Throw it out there.

Thank you for not caring

'He's always been fascinated with disguises.'