Okay, then...here goes :)
I've tried blogging about a million times before, always managing to produce something at various intervals for about a month and then abandoning it all. Who's to say this time won't be just as bad as the previous attempts, but what the hell? I'll give it a (yet another) go.
For those who don't know me (and that would probably be all of you) I'm 28 years of age until January next, when I'll be turning 21 +vat once more. I live in Ireland, have done so for the last 7 years. I was born in Finland and found my way to this little island through work placement in college, I met Mr S whom I've been sharing a bed and more with for over 6 years now. Despite prolific procreation going on all around me lately, I'm yet to have any offspring. I'm starting to think I might not want any (*gasp*). Right now I'm happy enough to mind other people's babies. That way I know I can just hand the little buggers right back to the parents the minute my last nerve starts to look just that little bit too frayed to withstand another screaming fit.
I have an older brother, who has a daughter and a fiancè, and two very excitable dogs. My niece's mother is not my brother's fiancè, just to make things a little bit more complicated despite amicable splits and joint custody.
My parents decided after I was born to have achieved perfection as far as offspring goes and decided to stop at that. Lucky really, I don't think I could handle any more immediate family.
About 4 years ago I persuaded Mr S it would be a good idea to get a cat. It was at the time, still is, most of the time. She was ever so cute when she arrived, little white ball of fluff we named Lily. She's still cute, most of the time. Not when she decides to jump on the bed at 6am to wake me up. Mr S sleeps through nuclear holocausts, it's very unsatisfactory for the cat to jump on top of him if she's expecting a reaction of some sort. Lily was joined a couple of years ago by Tom who had hung around our house for a while and one day decided to move in. He's a lot quieter. Except at the witching hour when he positions himself beside the bed and let out a howl loud enough to be heard in parts of Scotland and Wales.
I work, most of the time (which is a way to at least partly explain the sporadic nature of my previous blogs). I'm an assistant restaurant manager for a quite a large tourist attraction. It being a tourist attraction I find myself with plenty of spare time in the winter when only the bravest of all tourists venture out here to experience the cead mile failte and buckets of rain and the turf fires. Fair play to them, really, I'd opt for something like Spain or Italy, but that's just me. Good thing I don't work for the Irish Tourist Board or any other such authority.
So this is me. Nice to meet you.