Coming Soon

I have a desperate love. A passion. A niggling need . A vehement desire.

My name is Eileen O'Brien and I love The X Factor.

I need to spread the word of Simon Cowell.

That word will be spread. Tomorrow. No point in starting something late in the evening.

There are some people that will spurn me, possibly treat me as a social pariah for admitting to such a love. But with X Factor you either love it or hate it. I fall into the former.

American Idol isn't a patch on this British gem.

After all my mulling I failed to buy a new coat or boots. I did look, in fact, I dug deep but could not rationalize paying €150 on a coat that feels like sandpaper and looks like it was made with roadkill or even double that on a pair of boots that contain about o.oo1% of actual leather. It appears some shoe manufacturers think if they wave the end product in a front a cow some leather might magically transfer itself from the animal to boot.

Also it seems that coat manufacturers have failed to note that not all women are shaped like beanpoles and that most of us have boobs and butts. Please place buttons on coats accordingly.

In a reckless move I went to Brown Thomas ( Canadians think Holt Renfrew) and modelled a DKNY and Paul Costelloe coat.... I felt like a million dollars but sadly did not have that much in my bank account. Were I to win the Lottery I would personally contact Paul Costelloe to create an entire wardrobe just for me. Madcap spending I know but hey it's my dream and I'll do what I want.

Anyway, it's not like it's cold here at the moment so I can continue to put purchases on the long finger all the while wandering in and out of stores announcing to staff I fail to be overwhelmed by their stock... well not really, but I do cast a critical eye over their stock.

It's the little things that keep me ticking.

I am brown hair

The mobile phone provider, O2, can tick me off their list of potential subscribers. Their tagline is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.

"We are free texts, we are O2".

Enough said.

Peig Sayers is alive.

I can't watch the news anymore. It's just too depressing. Sub prime this, bank collapse that, job losses, governments in turmoil. Is there anything good going on in the world or is it a conspiracy in the media to make everyone feel rubbish.

I had to laugh at an article I read in one of the national papers today about the increased numbers of people emigrating to escape increasing home and living costs. Funny, I thought we were in a global credit crisis not an Irish one.

Hmmm

Do you ever notice that major purchases all wait to spring on you at the same time? I need to buy a coat, skirts, boots, sweaters, pay for flights, get my hair done, pay for apartment in Paris, pay immigration folks and maybe, just maybe allow myself food. In much the same way, paper crushes rock, getting my hair done negates the importance of food.

For this week, my mission is to decide on coat or boots.

It's a kind of tragic


A documentary detailing the events of 9/11 was aired this evening on TV. I had only seen one programme, proceeding the attack, which was composed from the footage of two French cameramen who were in one of the Towers at the point of impact. The documentary this evening immediately peaked my interest as it featured survivors and victims who had been in the North Tower- with the survivors giving their personal accounts. There were stories of joy, for those who had escaped and stories of sadness for those who had lost friends and family, or, had been forced to abandon colleagues to save their own lives. The account that brought floods of tears was that from a young receptionist. She escaped death but not the mental anguish. As final credits rolled on the documentary, she brought out the trousers she was wearing on the day of the attack. They were plain white, standard office wear, in fact they were gleaming white. Following 9/11 she made it her mission to clean every single piece of debris and dirt from those trousers. Every day she washed them and then washed them a little more and a little more until finally they were clean. It was her attempt to wash away the evil she was forced to contend with on that September morning.

Numbers

I have spent two very frustrating days at work. So frustrating that I am leaving the office in a terrible mood and pretty much staying in said mood until I fall asleep and have bad mood dreams. What I am working on is tedious and mind numbing. I am dealing with so many numbers over so many quarters that I have come to the definitive realisation that not studying accounting in university was a wonderful move on my part. I am sharing my office with two accountants and, dare I say it, these two live up to the accountant stereotype. They love nothing more than a good ol' fashioned grappling with last quarters' numbers to liven up their afternoon. I, on the other hand, have a little cry when another bunch of numerical queries are dumped on my desk.

Yummy Yummy in my tummy

I have found the ultimate in chocolate goodness all thanks to the might and glory of Marks and Spencer. The wonderful M&S people have created Belgian Chocolate Covered Summer Fruits. These little gems consist of strawberries, blackcurrants and raspberries slathered with Belgian yumminess. I must go and indulge in one of the Seven Deadly Sins.

I'm going to miss Marks and Spencer when I return to Canada.