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A sparsely-updated blog by a crazy woman with bad taste in almost everything.


2 minute read

Back when I was doing my Work Experience subtitling weird kids TV shows and Survivor for Irish Language Television (yes, i actually did), I used to spend a phenomenal amount of time on the internet. On a dial-up. When local calls aren’t actually free in Ireland. And they didn’t really mind. I can only remember about three times when I was actually on time for work, but nobody every said anything to me about it. Or even looked at me funny. My boss was Inspector Gadget, my friend Eithne was Laa-laa from the Tellytubbies, Bouli used to sleep on my couch from time to time when he was too drunk to walk home.

One week, there was only two of us in the office, and only about three programmes to work on for that whole time, so we both just sat there reading Harry Potter books. We used to get to watch Ros na Run before almost everyone else (we got it straight from the production company) and I lived about half a minute’s walk from work, right up the middle of Spiddal. The sea was pretty much across the road, there was a great Irish music pub with wonderful Guinness just across from my back gate (on the way to work).

Life was good.

It still is.

The good times make me feel less depressed about going home again.

also, for those of you who entered my Be Froodie’s Penpal competition, I haven’t been online in over 36 hours, but winners will be announced, eh, sometime.

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