Food Lust

I’ve spent the morning looking at hundreds of macaron recipes.
They look like tough little feckers to make, but I can’t afford to satisfy my cravings at Ladurée anymore ever.

Haven’t made desserts in a while so I may spend the next week warming up with simpler recipes like Panna Cotta.
I’m sure The Boy won’t complain about the sudden influx of pastries and pies as I practice!

Wonder if I’ll ever master my all-time favourites, Rose Macarons….

PS: I know of some job openings right now in Dublin for people who speak English and a second language!
It really is a great company to work for and if I was even remotely capable of speaking another language, I’d be all over it!
Mention in a comment here if you’re interested or email me if you’re worried about privacy (email on Contact page).

U-turns

So our ‘Moving into our New Home’ plans have been put on hold.
It seems the amazing house wasn’t so amazing after all.
And came fully equipped with interesting features such as a urine-stained bath (with chips in the enamel), a washing machine that smelled of mould and sewage when opened and a leaking oil tank that was turning the soil in the back garden to black mulch.

We weren’t completely clueless about the house. We knew there were a couple of problems, but we were willing to deal with them ourselves and we had high hopes for the place.
And then we realised that these few problems were only the tip of the icebergs.
She managed to keep all these things (and others) hidden from us until we signed the lease.
And handed over the first month’s rent.
And a deposit.

Thankfully The Boy went all French on her ass after she left and we realised just how many things were wrong and he got all our money back.
All Hail The Boy!

So now we’re sitting here waiting for our current landlord to get back to us, because we’re technically homeless as of Sunday.
Eeep!

Man, all of our sinks are broken

I took my first trip to Ikea at the weekend.
I’d like to think of it as the day my life truly began.

Fantabulous Foto Friday

April Fools Day.
My least favourite day of the year.
Made even worse by the fact that I work in media monitoring so I’m spending my day questioning whether news and discussions are real or a piss-take.
You’d be surprised at how hard it is to tell the difference…lot of rubbish out there in Radioland.

The main reason I don’t like it is because it’s the day before my birthday.
Which meant I spent my whole life listening to the same jokes on the day.

As a kid it was  “No it’s not your birthday tomorrow….APRIL FOOLS!!!!!!!!!!” as family members tried to convince me there was a mistake with my birth certificate.

As I got older it became…
“Oh I forgot it was your birthday tomorrow….APRIL FOOLS!!!!”
or
“Oh I didn’t get you anything…APRIL FOOLS!!!!!!!!!”
or
“But I thought you wanted a pencil/spoon/pea for your birthday……APRIL FOOLS!!!!!!!!!!!!”

You get the idea.

Anyway, it IS my birthday tomorrow, so thoughts of a brilliant weekend will get me though this.
The Boy has promised me a Pancake-Cake for breakfast tomorrow and has also vowed to refer to me as Princess Hermia for the whole weekend…which he probably won’t do, but I can dream!
He’s also told me there’s a mystery trip to look forward to so high-fives all round!

And then on Monday, the madness begins…

A Weekend in Paris: Attempt Number 1

I can’t remember the last time I procrastinated this much to avoid writing a post.
I don’t think I actually ever have.
My thesis holds my Longest Ever Proscrastinationing record, but this is definitely the Post Procrastination winner.
Dunno why…I’m just not super enthusiastic about writing about the Paris mini-break at the moment.
Because it was so shit…

….is what you are now thinking.
Ha ha ha, see what I did there!?
I crack me up!
*wipes tear*

Anyway the writer’s block is no reflection on the trip.
My brain is just in overdrive at the moment with all the moving stuff and planning for future kittens and coming up with decorating ideas and work stuff and everything…
*deeeeeeeep breaths*

Anyway it was a really nice weekend.
Even if it was raining quite a bit.
Although it wasn’t really a holiday to be honest.
It was a “The Boy has to see his sick granny” trip.
So there was no sight-seeing.
Or trips to our favourite restaurant for the best pizza in the world.
Or afternoon naps because we’re too warm and lazy to function.
Or getting lost.
Or buying Parisian souveniers.
Or hunting down carousels.

It was strange for us to be in Paris and not spend our entire time trying to fit in as many touristy sights as possible, but it was definitely the most French trip I have ever had to France.

*35mins later*
Yup………nothing’s happening.
Well there was a bit of writing, but I don’t have the energy to do the weekend justice right now.
So instead of forcing it, I’ll give it a shot again tomorrow.
Stay tuned for Take 2!

I am only halfway through my uber-busy month…

…and I’m already seventy-billion hours behind my ‘Hours of Sleep Needed to Function’ quota.
It’s been damned good fun though.
🙂

Fantabulous Foto Friday

First of all, I’m REALLY sorry for neglecting all you lovely people who have left comments on the blog over the last week.
I pride myself on visiting your blogs when you comment and also returning those comments, so I’m a little angry with myself right now.
It wouldn’t be a proper Chick Named Hermia post if I wasn’t over-dramatic.
*begins the self-flogging and hand-wringing*

Anyway, with being up in Belfast last weekend for the IBAs, viewing potential houses every evening and The Boy’s granny being in hospital, time has been scarce.
Actually thank you so much for all the well-wishing tweets and texts for his granny…she’s making nothing short of a miraculous recovery right now, so fingers crossed she keeps going in that direction.
I’m heading to Paris for the next few days to visit The Boy’s French granny, who is also sick right now so I’ll be MIA until next Tuesday.
And then I’ll be busy preparing for the big move into mine and The Boy’s first (rented) house.
Three bedrooms and a big garden: we won’t know what to do with ourselves!
I’m really excited!
When we moved into our apartment, it was perfectly decorated so we never got to do anything to make it really feel like home.
This new place looks like it belongs in the seventies though, so we’ll be shopping for paint and carpet and all sorts of home-making goodies.
I’m desperately in need of a creative project.
Plus, The Boy has bestowed one of the bedrooms on me so I can have my own little office.
*excited squeal*
This is in return for me allowing us to get a few sports channels.
Sweet compromise.

We haven’t signed anything yet, so hopefully nothing mental happens between now and next weekend when we had over the deposit that makes the landlady stop loving us…and by ‘us’, I mean The Boy…

When I get home I shall write a book about this place…

I’m currently searching for a new place to live.
I get itchy feet if things stay the same for too long and believe me, nearly everything significant in my life has stayed the same for too long.
So a change of scenery is needed.
I hate house hunting though.
And also packing and unpacking my belongings.
I think I may buy these beauties from Urban Outfitters as a pre-house-warming gift to myself just to make the whole ordeal a little more bearable:

The Aftermath

“It’s all work, it’s never fun. As I mentioned to others: 1% thanks, 9% moans, 90% silence”
It was to that tune – sung by the event organiser on Twitter – that we descended on Belfast for the Irish Blog Awards on Saturday night.

This was to be my first time attending the most controversial night on the Irish blogging calendar.
Most of you probably didn’t know this, because I refused to mention it here, but I was actually a finalist in the Lifestyle Category, formerly known as the Fashion/Beauty category.
Yes I know I’m not a Lifestyle blog.
Yes I know I was actually a Personal Blog finalist last year.
I was SO aware of this fact that I emailed the IBA contact email THREE TIMES after the shortlists were released, telling them I wouldn’t consider myself a Lifestyle blog and that there seemed to have been some mistake.
Did I get a reply?
Nope.
And then a week or so later, I find myself in the Final Five of the Lifestyle Category.

“Are you excited?” people asked me.
“No,” I replied. “It’s not fair on actual Lifestyle blogs that I’m taking up a place. I’m a Personal Blog.”
“What will you do if you win?” they asked.
“I’ll hand the award right back to them,” I said.

Thankfully, whoever was judging the last stage for the category had some sense and I wasn’t forced to “do a Brando” as one of WR’s Belfastian Friends put it.

I wasn’t even the only one put in a position like that.
The Irish Language category had a finalist that hadn’t written an Irish post in a million years. She too emailed and although she was privileged to receive a reply, she was pretty much told tough and that she was going to be left there.
And then her blog was mysterious left off the list when it was read out on Saturday night.
And had now been scratched off the list on the website.

The Personal Category had what a lot would consider a cookery blog finalist and Best Blog by a Politician was won by Dylan Haskins….who is not a politician*…and whose first post was at the end of January.

Am I attacking these individual bloggers? Absolutely not.
You’ve got to respect anyone who works hard on their blog all year round and continues to write interesting posts (in fact I’ve gotten some lovely recipes from IMAIF).
I’m criticising the system that put them in the positions they were in.
In fact, I’m going to go ahead and say I’m criticising the whole bloody event.

There was nothing but moaning from Damien in the lead-up about how much hard work it was.
We were expecting the feckin’ Oscars with the way it was made to sound.
We walked into a very plain, boring room, with people sitting or standing awkwardly in almost-silences.
Was this it?

Fantabulous Foto Friday

Busy night of hair washing, ironing and packing ahead of me tonight.
That’s right.
It’s the Irish Blog Awards Weekend!
Yipeeeee!
I will be united with my cyber soulmate WR in her hometown for a whole two days.
I can barely sit still with excitement!

Only 130 tickets bought so far, which is a bit surprising.
Belfast = cheap alcohol and food and shopping.
Also, there is plenty of nice, cheap accommodation very close to the event if the Europa itself is a bit pricey for you!
No excuse for missing it.
It’s a once-a-year event.
Don’t be the sad blogger that won’t understand all the in-jokes on Monday morning.
😀