I should go into PR... I quite enjoyed writing this post.

Today's post is going to take the form of a complete advertisement for one of my favourite people in the world... no One-And-Only-Daniela has not entered into another modelling competition (actually, I have no idea how that went... I should really ask her about that).

This time I'm here to talk about someone else I quite often mention in these posts. This time I'm going to talk about Younger-Brother-Daniel. You see Younger-Brother-Daniel is a pretty awesome artist. I'm not really one for gushing when I think the person is going to hear about it, especially when the person is one of my brothers, and I know he will be looking at the post today because I promised him that if he started posting youtube videos I would plug them. Sunday, he posted his first youtube video. Yesterday I watched it and laughed. Today I'm telling you about it.

In case you need proof of Younger-Brother-Daniel's talents before you watch the youtube video, take a moment to look at the design around this post. This whole blog page was designed by my brother and you have to admit, it looks pretty cool.

So here's the bit where I go against my own stunted awkwardness and talk about Younger-Brother-Daniel's awesomeness even though he is going to read this and it's going to be really weird next time I see him because he's going to know I said nice things about him and neither of us are going to know how to react to it so we'll just clear our throats loudly and avoid eye contact until the disturbing feeling goes away.

Younger-Brother-Daniel growing up had always been prone to try out the new craze in his life. He was at one point convinced he would be a kick-ass Hockey player after watching Mighty Ducks. Then he was going to make a living out of breeding tamagotchi's, he had four of them and he kept them on a chain around his neck for months. The one that dangerously came close to sticking was the day that he decided he wanted to be a WWE wrestler. He even joined a club, got himself a nickname (I can't remember the real one, but we as a family would call him 'The Pebble') and bought himself some wrestling gear. Thankfully that one didn't catch either.

But then when he was about 16, he discovered that he liked to draw. He wasn't particularly good at it then but he was determined that he was going to learn. He started by copying comic characters, he then progressed to an online forum where he spent day in, day out studying other people's artwork and locked himself away to learn how to draw just like it.

From the moment he discovered art, he made himself a makeshift studio in our parents' garage and studied like I had never seen him study before. He bought books on the muscular system so that he could learn how to draw each and every muscle in the body. He would follow us around and name the different muscles in our faces and hands, the guy really knew his stuff.

Suddenly he was creating artwork and illustrations that blew us all away. He never stopped, he constantly studied. He and he alone took his talent from ... well ... rubbish, to absolutely amazing. He did a post on his own blog a while back that showed the complete transformation in his work, the pictures below were in this post.

These are all self portraits. The first picture is when he first started drawing and then what he had improved to three years later.

He then did a self portrait three years after that (this was about three years ago) and you can see how much his work has changed.

He went to uni to study illustration and animation. After his second year he took a year out, you know because ... well, he got a job working for Disney as an intern for year ... as you do. He worked in the department who designed video games and has spent the year in on all the Disney secrets that he has sworn he will never tell. And he keeps to that promise. Everything about that job was classified. I swear there is no difference between Disney and MI5.

He has now just started his third year back at uni and has started a video blog, which is what this blog has been about.

Guys, I know I'm not being biased in Younger-Brother-Daniel's talent as he is my brother. I promise you, if you go to his youtube channel and subscribe, he will not disappoint. Here is his first video, if you like what you see, go and subscribe so you'll know when he does more!!



Click here for a link to his youtube page.

...


Younger-Brother-Daniel usually tells me off for my blogs about him because apparently he feels that I lie or make him come off as bad... I don't think he can have a problem with that on this one but he may very well complain that I have bigged him up too much. If that is the case then I should probably cover myself by saying ... you know ... he ain't that great. You'll probably only be mediocrely impressed, but you might as well subscribe for the mediocre laughs.

...

If he wasn't thinking that on the other hand and is now offended by the above paragraph then... I lied. He's awesome.

Peace out my lovelies.

It is almost essential to embrace your neuroses head on when you have this many, for some reason it makes you less crazy...

Today has been an exciting day in the world of my extreme and crippling phobia of flirting with a member of the opposite sex!

For those of you who don't know, when it comes to me and men there are two things that are utterly important in the way I think.

1. If the guy is ginger, 9.89 times out of 10 I am going to think he is the most sexiest man alive. I say 9.89 because I do draw the line at the only 3 ginger men who do not pass my standards - Mick Hucknall from Simply Red, Chris Evans from British presenting stuff, and Work-Buddy-James.

and

2. I am not able to make conversation with any man at all if I think that there is any chance A: I have a chance with them, B: I think they're flirting at all or C: I've realised that I might have a crippling crush on them.

This second one has ruled my life for a good 15 years now and pretty much sucks... well it used to suck when I was younger and I would go through the teenage angst of "I just want to get married with a man who loves me for me and not for the size of my chest" whilst I cried into ice cream and watch Dawson's Creek, moaning that I would never find a man who would love me and protect me like Pacey did for Joey on that show... you know, the usual stuff.

From about 23 years onwards though, I kinda got used to the fact that I mentally rejected men and I found myself becoming far too independent for any poor sod who wanted to date me. Mostly though, I just got bored and lost the energy to even care about it. Every so often nowadays, I might think to myself... "huh, I haven't fancied anyone in about three years... I should probably do something about that." But then it will only follow with "Nah, it sounds like far too much effort, besides I'm only going to throw up on his shoes on the first date and run in the opposite direction as fast as I can and what's the point in that?"


All of this has lead me to be very lazy, but then this morning two beautiful guys turned up at my work place. One with strawberry blonde hair who made me think that I had died and gone to heaven, and the other with the reddest hair I have ever seen with beard to match. Yeah, that was a nice experience for me.

But the strange thing about it was that as they continued to walk past me throughout the day, I managed on the third time to look them in the eye and smile!! Huzzah! There is life in the old flirt box yet! (Before you ask, I don't really know what a flirt box is but I'm 88% sure it's not meant to be dirty).

Then later, I was walking down some stairs, went through a door and the really ginger one was there. You know what I did? I talked to him!! Yup!! I engaged him in conversation and I didn't come off weird or anything, plus I didn't even throw up in his lap!! Talk about progress.

It was awesome, I was like "Excuse me, is it okay for me to walk on this floor?" and he was all "Yeah, sure, it's fine." Then I smiled at him and was like "Great, thanks." And then I walked past him and went back to my office.

...

I know right? I was so impressed with myself.

Also, it's worth mentioning at this point that he was in fact fixing the floor and he had ripped off the entire surface so I wasn't sure if I should walk on it. I wasn't just passing by and suddenly thought "holy crap, is this the way I should really be transporting myself inside a hospital? I'd better ask the pretty ginger man because he would know, gingers know everything."

I haven't seen them since but I've also hid away in my office for the rest of the day out of fear that I might have overdone myself on the flirting side and I didn't want to overdo all the progress I had made today.

Maybe they'll be back tomorrow and I can go up to him and say "Hey, remember that time yesterday when I asked you about the floor?" and he'd say "Yeah" and then we'd both laugh fondly and say "good times." And that's how we would part because anything further would have me shaking and throwing up.

Yes this is the most extreme of my neuroses. And yes, although I joke about it (because what else can I do?) I probably do actually need therapy for this one. Until then though, I will laugh and shake my head at myself like everyone else does, while simply asking... "Oh Lisa, what are you like?"

Peace out my lovelies.

This post was not sponsored by the London tourist association... I don't even know if such a thing exists.

Today I had a spontaneous night out where Work-Buddy-James took me to (surprise, surprise) china town and then karaoke-ing. It was pretty awesome I have to admit and a nice change of pace to my usual 'home at 7 and straight into pyjamas' routine I usually have going on during a weekday night. 

We went through every duet we could think off and ruined them all. It was in a tiny room without air conditioning and to say I was less than attractive when I came out would be an understatement. 

Things I learnt from this experience?

A: I do not know the proper harmonies to Endless love and should probably never sing it again out if respect to Lionel Ritchie. 

B: S club 7 has done some of the best songs in existence. 

C: When I'm getting really into a song and giving it some gusto, I need to remember not to practically kiss the microphone in a small private karaoke bar in central London... Not quite sure what I may have caught. Probably should book me to see my GP just in case...

I am well and truly sweaty and knackered now though. I'm also nice and de-stressed from my 'funny turn' yesterday. 

What I love was that it was one of those nights that wasn't planned and just happened. I also love that I live and work that close to central London that I can do stuff like that. 

I'm just going to take a moment to say... I love living in London. I love how I can walk down one street and be on the Thames, then down another and suddenly I'm surrounded by the theatre, china town, then suddenly in complete hag heaven as all I hit Soho and all I can see is gay bars and bright lights. 

There was a time when I hated living in this city. I can't imagine that now. It is truly amazing and totally perfect to stroll down and soak in the multi culture that it encompasses. 

Sometimes I like to walk into the central part of London and sit in front of a historical building like St Paul's Cathedral, the House of Commons, or even Buckingham Palace, and just soak it all in. I imagine the people that would walk here 100's of years ago. I like to wonder what they would think of the place now, whether they would be disgusted or impressed with what we did with their City. 

I can't help but smile when I'm surrounded by my London. It is so beautiful and so vast in it's mix of old and new. 

For those of you coming to London for the Olympics next year... If we suck on the opening ceremonies (which we may very well do in comparison to Beijing), then don't be disheartened. Instead, go for a stroll down the Thames, take in the London eye and our rebuild of Shakespeare's Globe theatre. Sit in Hyde park and just soak in the ancient buildings around you. Visit St Paul's cathedral and marvel at the intricate beauty of it. 

Visit the Tower Of London and listen to our witty and humorous Beefeaters. Go see the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace and  sit at the feet of a lion in Trafalgar Square. 

You know what? Actually, just don't bother with the Olympics at all and go sightseeing instead. Mainly for what I said above but also because I work right next to where the Olympics will be and I am dreading getting into work at that time. If no one actually went then I might have a fighting chance of not having a completely pissed off couple of weeks. 

Until tomorrow

Peace out my lovelies. 

Irrational anger is fun for no one involved... not even the people I kill.

I'm a little bit stressed today.

Not for any reason, not because anyone has made me so, but I am well and truly ready to physically bite someone's head off and chew on their bones.

Before you ask, it is definitely related to that rather annoying 'time of the month that makes a woman evil' thing. However, I am not able to tell my temper that or have time to forewarn the poor person who ends up on the disaster end to what I am pretty sure is amounting to a complete and utter freak out.

I do think that I am past the point where I will be able to bring myself down from my irate position and as such I do recommend that no one speak, move or breathe around me at least for the rest of the day.

I wish there was a way of bulletting this around my work place without people thinking I am sharing far too much information and start avoiding me forever because they think I'm weird.

What I really need to do is hide myself away until I get home, then stub my toe on some inaminate object (preferably something I don't like), and then go to town on destroying the stupid thing for being so idiotic and being in my way.

...

This needs to be an object I do this to and not a person because I do not want to end up in jail tonight. Their beds are really pretty uncomfy and everyone knows the only way to calm down an irrational woman lergy attitude is a large comfy bed and a hot water bottle. I go to jail tonight and I'm just going to do the same thing again the moment I get bail. So with that in mind:

Dear Irrational Anger boiling up inside me,

I appreciate that you don't like to be contained in small spaces, and I know that every inch of you wants to get out and let yourself loose on the world... but if you could possibly do this without making me kill or voilently hurt anyone then I would be most grateful.

You see, not only would the act of violence get me in trouble with the law, but I also work with the people I am currently in contact with and I really don't want to have them looking at me weird tomorrow because I bit someone's ear off and spit it back in their face. I like the people here, they're nice and probably don't deserve to lose their hearing on account of me.

So Anger, if you could find it within yourself so just sizzle under the surface until I can get into the safety of my own home I would really appreciate it.

I don't mean to bother you, and I know you quite clearly have a lot of other things on your mind at the moment, but I caught the look in a colleague's eye earlier as I was telling them about my current mood and I got to say, they looked a little bit terrified.

Thanks for all your irrational help in the past, it's been most inconvenient.

With Love,

Lisa

xx

I hate goodbyes to nice people.

My favourite doctor at the hospital I work at had his last day today. This is Dr-D, the man responsible for diagnosing my mental illnesses. 

Each day I probably spend about an hour with him talking about... Er, well it starts with talking about work but we have been known to deviate onto TV shows and movies. 

This time going missing from my work day, coupled with my issues mentioned in yesterday's post means I am going to suddenly be at a loss on Monday morning. This resulted in the following phone conversation with Work-Buddy-James today. 

Work-Buddy-James has been shortened to WBJ. 

Me: Dr-D's leaving today. 
WBJ: I know, how you doing?
Me: I typed a dictation for him earlier and then welled up when I realised that was the last one I would ever do.
WBJ: That's a little melodramatic. It's not like he's dying. 
Me: He might as well be. 
WBJ: That's... pleasant. 

Pause

Me: Yesterday I write a blog about how I can't stop talking at the moment. 
WBJ: At the moment??
Me: I've been worse than usual this week. 
WBJ: Actually I had noticed. 
Me: It's really annoying me. 
WBJ: Me too. 
Me: (Sighs) Yeah, sorry about that. Also sorry for what will happen from Monday onwards. 
WBJ: What's going to happen Monday?
Me: I like to have more than one friend I can talk to in one given place so that I can spread the talking out and people still continue to like me. At work, I tend to spread the main bulk of it between you and Dr-D. 
WBJ: So this means you're going to learn to talk less?
Me: You'd think that would be the logical choice... But no. 
WBJ: Ah. 
Me: I'm afraid I might be doubling my time with you to fill the void. And that will leave me with a lot of space to talk in. 
WBJ: (Doesn't respond)
Me: Aw damn it, you're going to start avoiding me by the end of next week aren't you?
WBJ: (Unconvincingly) I'm sure it will be fine. 

Another half hour goes by as I talk about rubbish, again not really able to stop. WBJ has tried on several occasions to hang up the phone but I then ask him a question and he's reeled back into the conversation. During a particularly long speech of mine I interrupt myself and groan. 

Me: I'm doing it again aren't I?
WBJ: (pause) I think I'm going to start avoiding you from the end of this week instead. 

At some point next week I'm sure I will be posting something with the title "The day our friendship died."

All of this is Dr-D's fault. How dare he move onward to develop his career! Talk about selfish. 

Peace out my lovelies. 

Another reason why I don't need to take drugs.

I've been unusually chatty recently... When I say this I don't mean that I usually don't talk because I can hold my own in a life monologue with the best of them, I mean that I seem to be even worse than I usually am. 

I can't decide whether it's because 

A: I've been drinking too much coffee. 
B: A year of living with no one's company but my own is starting to make me crave love. 
C: My happy pills have been giving me an extra kick this week. 

It's probably mix of them all but all I know is that this week I have not been able to shut up. 

I know this to be a fact because I have heard the 'desperate strain' in at least five people's voices as I've been talking to them. 

You know what I mean by the 'desperate strain' right? It's that point in the conversation where the other person's responses to your fascinating tales have a hint of a sigh behind them or a distracted strained response that suggests they stopped listening a while back. 

Usually when I hear this response I wrap up the talking quickly and ask them a question, trying my hardest not to turn it back onto me again for at least ten minutes. 

This week however, I have been hearing this tone but I have not been able to shut up. And it's not even like I've had anything interesting to say! When I have run out of the mundane day to day things of this week like "my index finger just won't stop itching at the moment! I hate it when it does that," I move onto stories about my life from years ago. And not even good ones! They're just as mundane, like "My index finger tends to itch to the point of blistering at least ten times a year and it has been that way since I was eight."

Today I have chewed Line-Manager-Monica's ear off, talking about complete and utter crap. Every time something has come into my head, it's as if my filter has been turned off and I will immediately start talking about it for about 10 minutes. 

Then, when Line-Manager-Monica stops responding I do something that is by far my least favourite thing I do. I laugh at my own jokes. Really loudly. Then scold myself internally for being so horribly and annoyingly rubbish.

If I only did this a few times then I might be okay with it. But there is something about the way I talk that means at the end of almost every sentence I speak, I let out a little puff of laughter. This isn't just when I find something funny, no. This is after every.single.sentence. You can imagine how awkward this is at funerals. 

So this week I have been non stop babbling like I'm a child or I'm high on drugs and although people were reluctantly listening to me, I might as well be talking to myself for all the response I give to my own comments.

I find the laughing at my own comments thing is only 100% acceptable when I am watching something on my own and I crack a joke about it, then laugh and either sigh with sadness that no one was around to hear it or I tweet it. 

Any other time and it's unacceptable for me. It's also something I have not been able to stop doing since I was a teenager. 

In case you wondered why I blogged? Now you know. 

Peace out my lovelies.  

Stress? What stress? ... Oh... That.

I've been back at work now for two days. 

I walked into work yesterday so relaxed. There was a smile on my face and people remarked on how refreshed I looked. For the whole day I managed to keep that persona until about 4pm when the whole weight of my life fell right on me. 

Suddenly I remembered all the stuff that was causing me to break out into full on shakes when someone spoke a little louder than usual or a door was slammed. My happy holiday land started to ebb away and the grey highly dysfunctional arrangement of my day to day life creeped in. 

I don't want to go into the details of it here because there's not really anything particularly funny I can pull out of it right now and this blog was not designed to bum everyone out. Instead I will sum it up in one predictable little word... Money. 

There is a light at the end of the tunnel because the thing that is draining the small part of the money that I do have will no longer be a part of my life by December and I might be able to breathe again!

It does mean that I will be saying goodbye to something I have loved very much this past year... My flat. 

Oh when I look back at the times we shared together...

The laughs

The tears

The frustration with boilers and sinks.

The quirky joys that only me and my flat fully understood. 

But until this turns into a 'favourite clips of the past series' post like what you would find on Friends when they were being too lazy to actually write, I shall move on. 

I am moving into a flat come December with a girl I envy for her hair and name, the lovely Anna Tidey. 

Of course that means that now we get the exciting/terrifying/knackering/fiddly part of finding the perfect flat. I'm well excited/terrified/knackered/... fiddled(?) at the thought of it! And in the meantime... Well who actually needs food anyway? Wusses, that's who. Tap water, butter and ketchup is all you need! 

Plus every so often people eat sandwiches around me and I find they barely notice if you take a nibble when their head is turned. If they do ask you just look at them quizzically and say "I think you'll find you ate that." They tend to accept this to avoid confrontation. (NB: The success rate of this is dependent on the size of the bite taken and the positive effects of your winning smile.)

Anywho, I spent an hour on the phone with Oldest-Friend-Cafrin and The-Goddaughter and the world is full of rainbows again... I'm a little bit in love with them both. I probably won't be posting tomorrow but I shall be back Thursday! Much love and stuff. 

Peace out my lovelies. 

The day I held my life in my hands

DISCLAIMER: Before Younger-Brother-Daniel complains... this post has been deliberately tweaked in order to create a more dramatic atmosphere. There is a slight chance that the series of events (although they definitely and absolutely happened) may not be completely word for word as to how the rest of my family remember it.

Ireland was amazing and incredibly relaxing... with the exception of just one day.

You see, three days into the holiday I came across a mountain with a rather ominous figure looming on it's peak.

At first I wondered if it might be some old fashioned Lighthouse that had been abandoned centuries ago. Younger-Brother-Daniel found this idea incredibly amusing, resulting in the following conversation.

Younger-Brother-Daniel has been shortened to YBD

YBD: You think that could be a lighthouse?
Me: Well obviously a really old one.
YBD: Lisa, where is that Lighthouse situated?
Me: On a hill by the sea
YBD: And why do Lighthouses exist?
Me: To guide ships to land without sinking
YBD: What's that all around the supposed Lighthouse over there?
Me: ... Land.
YBD: What would happen should that particular building turn on it's lights?
Me: It would show that there is a hill there.
YBD: And what would happen should they use that building as a marker for where they would need to stop?
Me: They would survive and go home to see their kids?
YBD: More like they will crash into the jagged rocks that extend out in front of it.
Me: Well that's just ridiculous, the light is obviously going to show that there is land in front of the lighthouse. If they don't notice that then they deserve to punished for being so stupid.
YBD: (Throws me a withered look)
Me: What?
YBD: You deserve to be punished for being stupid.
Me: Your mum deserves to be punished for being stupid.
Marmie: What was that?

Two days later, when I found myself face to brick again with the ominous Lighthouse looking structure, I noticed something else to it that I had not noticed before... there, poking out of the side of the rock was what seemed to be a long pole.

See?

Now obviously, with this new information coming to light, I could only come to one solution...

... This mountain had been invaded by a large, rather monstrous looking, Dalek.

Naturally I was stunned into silence as my mind tried to comprehend the level of danger that I was currently under. My senses became heightened, my breath caught in my throat as I scoured the surroundings, looking for some form of army nearby. As my eyes fell on nothing but calm and peace, I felt my breath escape my mouth again although my body still stayed tense and my lips only parted in a little 'O' to let the air out. 

"Lisa?" Somewhere in the recesses of my mind I could hear Younger-Brother-Daniel calling my name, but I couldn't bring myself to focus on him. Not yet. 

Using as little movement as I could (an action that was redundant given that I was in a car going 60 miles per hour), I leaned forward, placing my fingertips against the cool window glass. As my nose hit the window I realised this was the closest I would be able to go without tumbling out of a moving car. I thought about opening the car window but my father had the air conditioning on and I didn't want to waste unnecessary car petrol, after all... We were holidaying on a budget.

It was at this point I felt ready to turn my head away from the deathly Dalek. It looked dormant and I was too far to get caught in one of it's death rays. 

My eyes fell on Younger-Brother-Daniel finally and I saw the perplexed (and possible fear) in his eyes. It was up to me to inform my family of this massive danger, however I knew the moment they knew the truth, our holiday would be changed for the worse. 

I opened my mouth to speak but couldn't find the words, my mouth shut again and I simply stared, my face as white as the impending death waiting for us. 

"Mum," Younger-Brother-Daniel spoke into the silence. "I think Lisa's having a stroke."

Marmie looked up from her Kindle and checked in her front mirror. "I'm sure she's okay sweetie."

"Poke her to see if she responds." Father suggested. 

Younger-Brother-Daniel tentatively placed his index finger into my arm, his eyes never leaving mine. As if a shock had been sent through my body, my arm shot out and grabbed his finger. 

"It's not a Lighthouse!" I gasped. 

"What?"

"It's not a Lighthouse," I repeated as my panic caught up with the rest of me. "It's a Dalek!"

Father looked over at the mountain and let out a grin. "Oh yeah! I think you're right sweetheart."

My face shot to him. "What should we do about it?"

My family shared confused looks through many of the car's mirrors. 

"What should we do about what?" Younger-Brother-Daniel asked. 

"About escaping our impending doom!" I exclaimed. 

"I don't think there's much we can do," Father said. "If that is a Dalek I think it's pretty much out of our league in terms of what we can destroy."

"But dad! That thing could destroy the world!" 

"I'm with dad on this one," Younger-Brother-Daniel said. "If they're too big for the Doctor to destroy then I'm guessing our chances aren't that good."

"So you're answer is just to lie down and let it kill us?"

"Well no darling," Marmie said. "We were actually on our way to see the town Dingle's one and only dolphin, Fungie. I'm sure the Dalek will let us do that first."

I slunk back in my seat, crossed my arms and let out scowl. "Fungie's probably already dead."

"Well let's hope not, we'd deliberately saved this trip till last so you could see it as well." Marmie said. 

"We get our money back if we don't see it though. It's on the sign." Younger-Brother-Daniel said. 

"Well then I guess it's a win:win," Father said. 

"Yeah, until the whole world explodes." I muttered. 

"Well let's worry about that if we come to it," Father said. 

Our boat ended up travelling right into the Dalek's firing line in the middle of the sea. However Fungie was alive and after an hour and a half of our boat circling one dolphin, this was the best picture I managed to get. 

Once we had been in the boat for about 45 mins a cloud of smoke surrounded the mountain Dalek and I  gave out a screech of delight as I realised the Doctor had come to save the world once again. 

And that, folks, was my life threatening and highly dangerous adventure on the most Southern coast of Ireland. 

Peace out my lovelies. 

My reason for being rubbish... you know you've all been there.

Apologies people for my blatant lack of anything on this blog for the last week. You see, although I have now had internet, I have also been in holiday mode.

You know that mode? It's when you lay on the sofa with your double duvet and pillows watching TV and think to yourself, "I'm going to do something worthwhile with my day today" and then you see that TV programme come on that you never watch because you're usually working at this time and you then go on to think "Well I've always said to myself that I should try something new every once and a while." But of course during the TV programme your eyes have wondered to your collection of DVD series box sets and you notice Supernatural. This is something that you have been watching the latest series of on TV at the moment but it's been ages since you had seen it from the beginning so you think to yourself "I have time, I mean I'm off for the rest of the week... might as well." Next thing you know is you're three days and two and a half series in to a TV series you already know off by heart and you find your imagination wandering to a place where you're an evil sexy demon who Jensen Ackles has to kill but he doesn't want to because secretly he's in love with you and he can't bring himself to take your life.

hmmm... hello Jensen Ackles

And then you find yourself at your computer on a Sunday afternoon and you suddenly realise you have to go back to work tomorrow and you probably should have been a bit more exciting with your week at home rather than only exiting the house twice, once for more food and the other to crash at another persons house for the rest of the night which you're sure if you are honest enough with yourself really doesn't count.

And that, my dear friends is why I have been missing. I wasn't visiting the world, I wasn't doing amazingly worthwhile things with my life... no I was watching the world get saved by the ridiculously beautiful looking Winchester brothers whilst writing an entire series for them in my head where I played the leading lady.

Also my Hanjie puzzlebook is looking really good. I have done eight of the puzzles (each take about five hours to do) and I have not made one single mistake! That's like never happened before! I am officially becoming the reigning champion of the game that no one has ever heard of (apart from myself and the odd few Japanese people).

This has been my week, and for some reason this has been the post that makes it onto my blog. As opposed to last week where I was in Ireland/Scotland and I still haven't gotten round to telling you the spine tingling story of my near death experience with one of Doctor Who's most hated enemies... It was a close call and it was completely true and not in the least bit a part of my imagination at all.

I promise you that I will tell you all about that tomorrow. In the meantime I have me some Jensen Ackles to swoon over... I think I prefer him over his brother (who I find particularly sissy) because of his extreme emotional detachment for everything and his innate ability to turn anything that might upset him into a joke. I think I'd be pretty gutted if Jensen in real life wasn't like his character Dean. I would just hate it if he met me and started taking me seriously and want to know about my feelings... what good are you to me then Jensen? Come on! Grow a pair!

And on that note, I promise I will be back tomorrow at my usual time as my life goes back to normal. Until then...

Peace out my lovelies.

A week without internet? Turns out I become a little jittery.

I'm not going to lie to you, this past week has been weird. Don't get me wrong, I've loved the whole "getting away and not having to anything that contributes to worthwhile society" bit but it has come with it's consequences.

You see those eagle eyed readers may have noticed I said I would tweet in the absence of my blog and then went on to notice that aside for some "toilet" humour at the airport on my way to the hols, there has been a severe lack of any internet commenting on my part whatsoever.

This has not been because I have had better things to do... please, although my holiday has been awesome there have been moments when I have been chomping at the bit to leave at least a little tweet here or a facebook comment there. The reason for internetual silence has been because I have simply not been able to access the internet... at all... for 7 whole days.

Younger-Brother-Daniel who travelled over to Ireland a whole week before me, jumped on me the moment I arrived with questions on what the world has been like on youtube and whether 'wheezywaiter' or the 'vlogbrothers' have done anything particularly hilarious this week. He has also not been able to find out anyhting going on the world on account of not being able to catch 'sxephils' daily youtube reports which have been his equivalent of watching BBC news. For those of you who aren't savvy to the youtube world, these are all regular youtube vloggers. Younger-Brother-Daniel may not be entirely blogwise but vlogwise? Man, that boy knows his stuff.

The shifty look in his gaze and the shaky way in which he had grabbed my arm when I had entered the car let me know that this week had been hard on him internet wise and suddenly my excitement for the relaxing holiday ahead was laced with traces of dread and fear.

I calmly spent the three hours journey to our remote bungalow explaining to Younger-Brother-Daniel the videos that our joint vlog heros had uploaded this week, trying to add as much 'word for word' detail as I could possibly muster into my description. I could tell that I had helped when I saw the relaxed smile stretch over his face and the joyful laughter that escaped his lips, it was the kind that you might expect from a highly strung addict who had just received his first fix in a very long time. (As I am typing this, he is on the computer next to me, logging onto Youtube and plugging my earphones into the screen.)

The journey down begun my first experiences of the dry spell Younger-Brother-Daniel was a week into as I desperately tried to explain a video and went to my default reaction which was "I'll show it to you on youtube", this being swiftly followed by a small sob in the back of my throat as I realised that I would not be able to show him anything on any form of internet channel. I met Younger-Brother-Daniel's eyes as he shared an 'I know how you feel' look with me and tapped my shoulder sympathetically.

As the journey continued I attempted to change the subject, talk about things that didn't need an internet to function. We eventually got onto the subject of TV and the programs that we were all currently watching. A few were mentioned but it wasn't long before the whole family (aside from Marmie who sat there with her kindle and simply smiled that she had her family with her) settled on the subject of Dr Who.

Oh how we discussed, oh how we laughed, oh how we revelled in the joy that although there was no internet there was still a functioning BBC one channel waiting for us back at the bungalow.

It wasn't until we arrived on the topic of determining a certain actor from this TV show that I was thrown back into my gut wrenching fear.

Younger-Brother-Daniel has been shortened to YBD

Father: I know I've seen her somewhere before.
YBD: I think she just looks like someone else, that's all.
Father: No I've definitely seen her before in something else.
Me: Well we don't need to fret, I'll just check the IMDB app on my phone and... oh.

Once again Younger-Brother-Daniel patted me sympathetically on the shoulder and mentioned something along the lines of:

YBD: I wish I could tell you that it gets easier but I really don't want to lie to you.

As the week has progressed I have learnt that there really is no much point to my iphone when there isn't an internet connection attached to it and so (very uncharacteristically) I have been leaving my phone in my room and venturing around the little bungalow and even outside the house without it.

I have learnt in this week that I was able to do so many other things without the internet functionality available to me. Things such as write two new chapters to my second book, which takes the count up to five chapters in total now (I am now willing to send it to previous readers such as Jo-Jo and One-And-Only-Daniela if they would like to read it), also I have read a total of five books!! Today I even read two! (One of these happened to be World War Z and I am now officially all over that shizzle when the Zombie apocolypse arrives.) I've also dicovered that if you concentrate really hard and take all your happy pills like a good girl then the 'no-internet' shakes tend to only last a maximum of an hour a day... result.

Despite my complaints, I have had a pretty awesome first week of my holiday and the lack of internet has been fairly tolerable, leaving me to discover the wonders of Ireland such as Fungie the Dolphin, My innate ability to hoola like I just don't care, and the day I spotted a Dalek. But I wouldn't want to use up all my fun anecdotes in one little post so I shall be back soon with more.

I have missed you all immensely, it has been like I've been without my friends. Even though both Younger-Brother-Daniel and my reactions have been the height of much concern from Father and his worries for us 'not living in the real world' and the fact that I am only on the ferry to Scotland and I've managed to find free internet so jumped on to immediately post like some form of druggie, I will miss the rain and wind of the most southern parts of the Republic of Ireland. I guess I'll just have to accustom myself to the predicted hurricanes I'm about to experience in Scotland... aaah, British weather, how I love thee.

Until next time, it gives me great joy in saying...

Peace out my lovelies.

One more for the road...

Okay peeps,

This is my last post for just over a week as tomorrow I am off to Ireland to meet the family who have been holidaying there for the last week.

I'm pretty excited as I've never been to Ireland before and I'm pretty sure that that is embarrassing given how close I am to it.

I'm also excited due to the fact that the Irish accent is a yummy one and I plan on parking myself down in a busy pub, closing my eyes and just soaking in the sound of the drunken Irish men around me. Yup that is all I plan to do. I don't have any money so I won't be buying any drinks but if I hide myself in amongst a crowd of the more rowdy lot then chances are the barmen won't chuck me out for loitering.

Lots of people have been asking me where in Ireland I am heading off to. This question has been answered with the same answer that I am holding today which is... I have not got a clue. All I know is that my airplane is landing in Cork but that isn't where I am staying.

I'm sure I will have lots to blog about in my second week of my hols as I will be up in freezing cold Scotland visiting the parents new home.

While I'm away next week though I plan on getting loads of my writing done for my second book (still to be named)... that is while I'm not at the pub hiding myself of course...

What I guess I'm really looking to get out of this holiday is to find me a nice ginger Irish man. I'm not looking for much out of him as my phobias will kick in the moment he did try to be romantic, but if he could just place himself in front of me and talk all week then I'm pretty sure it would be like what I imagine heaven to feel like.

Also Younger-Brother-Daniel has been there a week and can confirm that we are able to get Doctor Who on the TV in our rented home so I honestly don't see any reason for it not being an awesome holiday.

I am sorry that I will be gone though as this next week will make it the longest I would have gone without writing something on this thing since I started in March. I'm pretty impressed with myself to be honest, I really thought I would have given up on the whole blogging fiasco by now. But no, I am loving it and (without being at all mushy because I will just get all embarrassed) I have all of you lovely readers to thank.

I know I'm a little late in this on the account of taking my holidays later in the year than most but I hope you all have had an awesome summer. If you still have hols to come then enjoy them, if you've already had yours then I hope you had a good time and also... ha ha you have to go back to work/school and I haven't even started my hols yet.

On that note, if you fancy reading something new of mine while I'm gone I have been writing this crap for a few months now so feel free to go back and read some more pointless absolutely time wasting stories instead of doing actual work.

See you in a week and until then...

Peace out my lovelies.

Tip: If you want to talk about your extreme neuroses without any consequence, it's best to check who you're talking to first.

Following yesterday's post where I shared with the group just how completely neurotic I can be, I entered into conversation with two colleagues at work, Dr-D and Awesome-Ward Clerk-M. 

(Awesome-Ward-Clerk-M has been shortened to AWCM)

Me: I wrote about more of my LOCDs again last night. (I then proceeded to tell them about my intricately planned out routine from work as highlighted here)
AWCM: (To Dr-D) Her OCDs are worse than yours. 
Dr-D: My OCDs are just making sure my letters are formatted and saved correctly. Hers are definitely worse. 
Me: I fail to see what is wrong with knowing what you like and sticking to it. 
Dr-D: (Raises his eyebrows silently)
AWCM: Why do you call them LOCDs?
Me: Because they're only Lisa's version of OCDs as I'm afraid to go to my GP in case I really get given the diagnosis. 
Dr-D: Too late. 
Me: (looks at him as the colour drains from my face) Holy crap, you're a Psychiatrist aren't you? 
Dr-D: That's what they tell me. 
Me: ... Damn it. 

...

It's not official until I'm sitting on a chair in a doctors office at an appointment I booked. Until then I'm still going to say I have LOCD's only.