Strictly Come Dancing- The Semi Final

You've got to give my son kudos for his sense of timing. There was I, about to sit down and drool over- sorry watch Mark Raaaamprakassh (even his name sends me in a flurry of girlish excitement) dance the Argentine Tango with Karen when Joseph decides he wants to play, and run up the stairs, and run back down again and generally get in the way of my televisual entertainment.
I think perhaps he realised that every time Mammy watches 'Strictly' a little bit less of her heart belongs to daddy and a little more to Rampant Ramprakash...
Anyway, the upshot was I missed his Tango, which is a bummer given that they scored a whopping 39/40 for it.
Their quick step was good, but as I've said before the ballroom doesn't do it for me in the same way as the Latin dances.
That said, I could never take Emma seriously when she was dancing Latin... her argentine Tango left me a little cold last night- too many legs flailing in too many directions. Her salsa looked good though, I'll give the girl that much.
Now I have a dilemma when it comes to Lilia Kopylova and Matt Dawson. Matt, I think is perhaps the most boring competitor ever to hit the 'Strictly' stage, but I do adore Lilia. Their dances are worth while just to watch her if nothing else.
As for the result, well, all I can say is that I'm glad Mark stayed in. I felt a little eeny bit sorry for Emma (just a little mind) but secretly I'm hoping that now she is gone Mark will be highly likely to win the series.
Roll on next week...
(But what will become of my Saturday nights when it is all done?)

See that author lady, that's me that is

From the Derry Journal, courtesy of the gorgeous Erin

DERRY JOURNAL reporter Claire Allan has fulfilled the dream of a lifetime after signing a four book deal with Irish publishing giant Poolbeg.
By Erin Hutcheon
Her first novel, ‘Rainy Days and Tuesdays’ is set to hit the shops in Autumn 2007.
Claire, who has been with the ‘Journal’ for eight years and writes a weekly column ‘Skirting the Issue,’ says becoming a published author is a “dream come true.”
And with three more books to write in the next three years Claire, mother to two year-old Joseph, knows she’s in for a busy time of it.
“I’m lucky in that my wee man, Joseph, goes to bed nice and early and my other half works evenings so that frees up time for me to write,” said Claire.
“My house is a total pigsty, but something has to give!
“But that’s part of what the book is all about - I mean Mary Poppins was only ‘practically perfect’.”
It was Claire’s fast approaching 30th birthday that spurred her on to write her first novel.
“I set myself a series of challenges when I was 29,” she said. “To pass my driving test and write a novel.
“I passed my driving test in March and finished my book in June, just two weeks before my birthday.
“When we went out for my birthday my sister and mum presented me with a bound copy of my book as a present.
“I was so unbelievably touched and it was amazing to see the book in print. God love them though, because then I made them read it!”
Once Claire had finished writing the book, the hard work of securing an agent and publisher started.
“I wouldn’t be the most patient person in the world and I found it really nerve-wracking posting off the sample chapters and waiting for a response.
“My husband can tell you I was a bag of cats every time the letterbox rattled.
“But in the end I didn’t have to wait all that long. In August, Ger Nichol- who has been an absolute dote- from the Book Bureau offered to represent me and things really got moving.”

Just two weeks ago Claire got the call she had been waiting her whole life for, when Poolbeg offered her a four book deal.
“I was in the Journal office when Ger rang with the news,” Claire said. “I think I went into shock for about a week and then I started to get very excited every time I walked past Eason and through the book section at Tesco.
“I have to say my colleagues at the ‘Journal’ have been really supportive and my family are delighted for me. Everyone wants a free copy when I’m published!”
Claire was just 16 when she first discovered the joy of a Poolbeg book. She recalled: “It was Patricia Scanlan’s ‘City Girls’, as recommended by my friend Mandi, and from that moment on I always had a wee dream of getting published and having that famous red lighthouse logo on the back of my novel.
“Poolbeg have an amazing representation for supporting new authors and have been responsible for discovering new Irish talent like Marian Keyes, Cathy Kelly, Sheila O’Flanagan and Melissa Hill. It’s amazing company to be in and already I’ve been made to feel very welcome by the editorial team.”
And for Claire writing a book like ‘Rainy Days and Tuesdays’ was a natural progression from journalism. "
“After writing Skirting the Issue for a few years people started to tell me I should write a book but I always found a reason to put it off.
“At the start of this year I set myself a challenge however to sit down and write something and soon I found it quite addictive.
“I got lost in the story, and even though I would be tired after a day at work I would find myself looking forward to switching on the PC at night and finding out what happened to the characters next. It was a really thrilling experience.”
‘Rainy Days and Tuesdays’ tells the story of Grace Duddy, a working mother who, on paper, has the perfect life. However she feels at odds with herself and when she finds out her work colleagues have been talking about her behind her back in less than glowing terms things come to a head.
“I think the book deals with issues many modern women face,” said Claire. “We are all struggling to live up to the notion of what is perfect- be it the perfect wife, the perfect mammy and the perfect employee and most of us struggle with that.
“Grace is just like that, but she is a real fighter and takes steps to turn her life around.
“The book deals with some pretty serious issues, such as post natal depression, but there is a lot of humour and warmth in it.”
The book has several very strong female characters. Along with Grace, there is Daisy, her feisty best friend who is a single mother and successful business woman, and there is also a strong and supportive Derry mammy thrown into the mix.
“The book is set completely in Derry and Donegal, which some people have been surprised at,” said Claire.
“We’re not used to having books set locally- not chick lit books anyway. There are some real locations people will be more than familiar with so hopefully it is a book the people of Derry can take to their hearts.”
Claire is already 40,000 words into her second novel, which has a working title of ‘Signed, Sealed, Delivered’ and is due for release in 2008.

Tacky Tuesday- You want some cheese? I'll fecking give you cheese

ANYONE WHO says they don't like, nay love, Steps is a dirty big liar.

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I give you the queens and queens (and yes the two queens was intentional) of pop.

Yes, it's not big and it's not clever and it's not going to impress those yokes at the Ivor Novello awards but it is feel good music that gets you dancing.

Who hasn't learned the moves to 'Tragedy' or pretended to line dance to '5,6,7,8'?

Don't lie now- Santa is watching and he knows everything.

Steps, like Westlife, even feature on my wedding video (can you tell it was me and not Mr. Allan who chose the music). 'Say You'll Be Mine' accompanied a montage of our day and it makes me smile every time I see it.

But for today, our classic 'choon' to remember is "One For Sorrow"- hands in the air, deep breath....let the pure pop wash over you.

Go on ya big girl ye!

Oh I know you're somewhere else right now

And loving someone else no doubt

Well I'm one for sorrow (one finger in the air in a Cliff Richards at Christmas stylie)

Ain't it too too bad (two fingers across the eyes like in Pulp Fiction)

Are you breaking someone else's heart?

Cos your taking my love where you are

Well I'm one for sorrow

Ain't it too too bad about us

You've got that sinking feeling....

LAST NIGHT was the 'Journal' Xmas do.

Initially I wasn't going to go for a number of reasons- most especially as I was supposed to driving Bridezilla to Banbridge to order her wedding dress today and I wanted to be in a fit state to do so.

But there was a last minute change of heart and off we toddled expecting just to stay for our dinner and beat a hasty retreat. The retreat was to be even more hasty after we learned there was to be no free bar- instead we got a free glass of wine.

But somehow it turned into an amazing night. I danced like I haven't done since before I had Joseph- and even though I was with my work colleagues- people I would normally be quite reserved around- I just got down with my bad self.

I think the (paid for) five glasses of wine and two WKD may have helped.

I have to say I had a ball, and came home a very happy drunk- Erin and I treating the taxi driver to a rather suspect rendition of The Rose as we drove on our way.

But today I'm wondering did I make an eejit of myself and yes, I'm feeling a little delicate.

All I want is fatty food, Diet Coke on an intravenous drip and the assurance that I don't have to worry about to work on Monday morning.

But that said, it really was a cracking night.... I even ended up dancing with my shoes off!

Tacky Tuesday- Westlife

I'M NOT really ashamed of this one, I love Westlife, especially Shane.
As revealed last week my sister (aka Bridezilla) has arranged for us to go and see Westlife next April in Belfast and this will be the second such time I'll have seen the boys in concert. (I have never seen Brian 'Fat-head' McFadden though, he left and got all up his own arse before I saw them before).

Now you may assumed that this week's song will be 'Flying Without Wings'- indeed it is featured on myself and Mr. Allan's wedding video and I have cried to that 'in the eyes of their children' line many times since becoming a mum. Indeed, Bridezilla has even talking the future Mr. Bridezilla into allowing her to have it as their first dance at their wedding- but this week's song is a little more upbeat.
Forget your choirs and emotional high notes, 'World of Our Own' will always be special to me because I used to sing to my niece - the Dabster- when she was ickle baby tiny.

The instructions for singing this one are simple... Hold a six month old giggling baby girl in your arms and dance around like a lunatic... couldn't be easier.

You make me feel funny

When you come around

Yeah that's what I found out honey

What am I doing without you

You make me feel happy

When I leave you behind

It plays on my mind now honey

What am I doing without you

Took for granted everything we had

As if I'd find someone

Who's just like you

We got a little world of our own

I'll tell you things that no one else knows

I let you in where no-one else goes

What am I doing without you

And all of the things I've been looking for

Have always been here outside of my door

And all of the time I'm looking for something new

What am I doing without you

Well I guess I'm ready For settling down

And fooling around is over

And I swear that it's true

No buts or maybes

When I'm falling down

There's always someone who saves me

And girl it's you
Funny how life can be so surprising

I'm just realising what you do

Month 34- Teeny, tiny baby

DEAR JOSEPH,
You've been a little sick lately. Well I say a little, I mean a lot. It started with a bit of a cough of Sunday (your official 34 months birthday) and it's still ongoing.
You went to bed like a wee lamb on Sunday night but within two hours had clambered into bed beside me and lay there moaning, your temperature soaring.
You then threw up everywhere- the most prolific boke of your life if I'm honest- and I tried not to join in as I cleaned it up and got you sorted.
You slept fitfully, the fever making you delirious and my maternal senses were on red alert.
As it turns out it has only been a wee bug. You still have the cough and you turned down sausages today which makes me think you are not quite at yourself, but on Sunday night I really worried about you.
There is nothing worse than thoughts which jump through a parent's mind that something might be really wrong with your child. Yet at the same time I was so grateful because there are parents who every day face the reality of a seriously ill child. All I wanted to do in those hours was make it all better and protect you.

But apart from your bouts of lurgy, you have been in fine form this past month. I see your quirky sense of humour emerge more and more each day. You are obsessed with 'Charlie and Lola' and rockets - in fact every song you know has to have the word rocket in it.

You have taken to singing and talking in your sleep. I was treated to the full version of 'Santa Claus is Coming To Town' last night...
At those moments I want to be cross and tell you to be quiet but who can resist a singing toddler? Whatever the time on the clock.
I love you baby boy.
Mammy
x

Quality TV from Queen Marian of Keyes

This is well worth it, for her reaction to meeting Lilia Kopylova alone...
You've just got to love Marian Keyes and this is why. The woman is the undisputed Queen of Chick Lit!



There now seems to be a problem with this link, so try this for size...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d-pYoQTJCEs

At the end of the week....

Operation PollyAnna is now officially over, and did I succeed?

Well kind of.

This has been a week of intense highs and lows. The brilliant parts included travelling to Belfast and seeing my VBF, getting some amazing news on Friday, hearing that my mucker Nora is with child and spending a very lovely evening with Mr. Allan over a bottle of wine and the Take That thingy. (Our secret shame!)

But I've also been tested a good deal. The Friday good news followed a week of sitting on the edge of my seat and frequently bursting into floods of mad tears from time to time. The wee man has also a nasty cough which makes me worry we are facing the first of many winter chest infections (we've ended up in hospital every winter of his life so far).

Add to that the frankly shocking customer service at a certain Waterside supermarket chain today and I was close to packing it all in.

But all in all, I've tried to remain positive and I promise that Pollyanna hasn't gone away you know.

Big up Mr. Perring

IN A mutual sharing of respect I would like to big up Mr. Nik Perring , a fellow member of the Write Words community, where I also hang out.

Nik has written (and published) the wonder 'I met a Roman night, what did you do?'- a kids books well worth a read.

He also remains ones of writings truly really nice guys- always willing to offer support and advice to those of us a little further down the ladder.

And if you ask me, he's quite cute too!

Check out his website, buy his book or stop buy Write Words for a chat. You know you want to.

Where is my Wysiwig?

There was me about to share the events of the day- complete with picture and all- but I can't add any.
Blogger is testing my Pollyanna experiment and making me swear at the computer!

Wonderful, wonderful day

I HATE to be a tease, but I could tell you my reason for being positive for today, but then I would have to kill you.

All I can say is watch this space. I am a very happy writer lady this evening.

Add this to the news that my very dear and lovely friend Nora told me today she was expecting her first baby and my colleague Erin (you know, the one who is on the jazz a lot?) got tickets to a faberooney Arsenal match for her hubby's 40th FREE OF CHARGE, it's been a fab day all round.

All I want to say here and now is that I love my friends...every last stinking one of you!

A secret smile

WEDNESDAY WAS a pretty stressful day for me as far as stressful days go. I had been staying in Belfast the previous night with my VBF (very best friend) Vicki and despite having the luxurious surroundings of an executive suite of the Europa Hotel to ourselves, I found it almost impossible to sleep.

It was probably because there was no two year old sticking the heel of his foot into my neck or clambering over me at three in the morning declaring that it was time to play, but needless to say by the time the morning came around I had matchsticks propping open my eyes and my mood had deteriorated from happily tipsy the night before to grumpily hungover the morning after.We decided to wander around the Belfast shops to try and inject some festive spirit in my sagging heart, but when the elastic went at the top of my (new and much loved, not to mention expensive) brown suede knee length boots my humour dipped even more- and that was before I clambered on the bus for the journey home to find the heating set to 'tropical heatwave' the whole way to Derry- something which I can assure you does not rest easy with a growing hangover.

Then in my madness, accompanied by a sense of crippling maternal guilt at having dared to leave my boy over night, I decided it would be wise to take him, and his four year old cousin to the madhouse that is McDonalds, at tea time, three weeks before Christmas.The prospect of some "chicky uggies" as Joseph decided to call chicken nuggets (at the top of his voice at the top of the queue) sent both Joseph and Abby into a dizzy fit of over-excitement and as I tried to eat my (hangover cure) tea, I felt my blood pressure rise to the point where I could feel a vein throbbing in my neck.

It was then time to take the wee man home and by this stage, overfed on one of those Mix 'n' Muddles things (ice-cream, Smarties and chocolate sauce for the uninitiated) he was on the mental side of hyper so there were tears before bedtime- both for him and me- before he eventually fell into an exhausted sleep and I took to my bed early with a good book and the heating set to high.
"Don't talk to me for the rest of the night," I told himself, sashaying up the stairs in a dramatic stylee: "I want to be alone."
So I crawled under the covers, in fresh pjs, and allowed myself to sink into my soft pillows and I flicked on the TV just to see if there was anything worth watching.

It was then I stumbled across 'The Secret Millionaire' on Channel 4.
If you want feel good TV, something to lift you from the doldrums and make you forget about what a crappy day you've had then you couldn't go far wrong with this programme.

On Wednesday night's programme 25 year old multi-millionaire Ben Way spent 10 days in what has become known as London's 'Murder Mile' undercover.
He volunteered at a local youth club, got to know the community and find out the aspirations and dreams of some of the most disadvantaged young people in the area.By the end of his 10 days, he would be tasked with choosing several projects or people to give a portion of his fortune too.

At first I was a little cynical, as Ben (who looked all of about 12 and as if he had some 'chicky uggies' for tea himself) wandered about decided what he deemed to be worthy or not of receiving "his money".

However my attitude to the whole thing had changed as the programme ended, just as it seems Ben's had. He decided to invest in the youth club he had been volunteering in- a place where the youth leader had not drawn a wage in two years- and also to give money to an aspiring fashion designer. In addition, he paid for a community leader to get married to his partner of 27 years- something they could never have afforded to do themselves.

What impressed me most however was that as well as his money (£40,000 in total of it) he decided he was so impressed with the people of the 'Murder Mile' that he has decided also to donate his time.

As often as work allows, he comes back to the youth club and helps inspire and encourage the young people. As for the fashion designer, Ben himself is pounding the streets finding outlets to sell the hip new street designs.

As the money was handed out, I realised that perhaps for the first time all day I had a huge cheesy grin on my face. These acts of kindness had lifted me out of my grumpy lull and had left me feeling all warm and fuzzy inside.

Even though I wasn't in an executive suite at the Europa on Wednesday night, and was in fact just back in my plain old non-executive bed, I slept like a lamb and when, as invariably happens, a wee foot lodged itself in the small of my back at 3am, and the owner of said foot clambered all over me declaring "My own mammy", I didn't mind one bit. I just rolled over, cuddled him closer and told him I loved him. And the cheesy grin stayed firmly on my face all night.

Tacky Tuesday- Tina Arena

(NB: I know it's only Monday, but I won't be here tomorrow so tik yer oil, as we would say in Derry)

DURING LAST week's discussion about the tacky music I have now stored in my car, Keris mentioned that Tina Arena's 'Chains' was perhaps the best song to sing whilst under the influence of alcohol.

After much thinking (in other words, I read what Keris said) I agreed that Tina Arena, the Australian songstress, really does provide value for money when it comes to singing while drunk-ability.

Now Chains rocks, which is why I've included it here. But let's not forget her lesser known classics 'Heaven Help My Heart' (there is a class story about my sister, her housemate, loud singing and huge embarassment related to this song) and I'm also loving her 'Wasn't it Good?'.

If you want to go the whole hog to real amazingly tacky and wonderful out of tune singing-ness (on my part, not Tina's, I hasten to add), there is also her rendition of 'Whistle Down the Wind'.

But for now, I leave you with 'Chains' complete with performance advice.

(Sing with hairbrush in hand and make sure your hair is down, so you can swoosh it around dramatically)

Your arms are warm but they make me feel

As if they're made of cold, cold steel

A simple kiss like a turnin' key

A little click and the lock's on me

Can't move my arms, can't lift my hands

I won't admit to where I am

But I know baby, I'm in chains

I'm in chains (Look dramatically around you)

I pretend I can always leave

Free to go whenever I please

But then the sound of my desperate calls

Echo off these dungeon walls

I've crossed the line from mad to sane (I always thought this was A-Z...now this makes more sense)

A thousand times and back again

I love you baby, I'm in chains

I'm in chains

I'm in chains

I'm in chains (swoosh your hair NOW)

Should have known passing through the gate

That once inside I could not escape

I never thought this could happen to me

Never thought this is where I'd be

But baby, baby, baby, look at me

Baby, baby, look at me, (You have to shout this bit- a grab your hairbrush really tight)

I'm in chains

Day three in the Operation Pollyanna house...

I WILL admit that for today I have struggled- generally down to be so very tired and waiting for all important news that could see me validated as a writer.

My positive things include my amazing son. I finished work today, tired and frazzled and little hormonally emotional and came home to a super smiling face.

Joseph then cuddled up on my knee and we read his 'Charlie and Lola' books together (which is worth it to hear Joseph say Wo-Wa and Soren Lorenson alone).

In the end he went to bed a very tired but very happy little boy and that in turn made me feel nice and contented.

The other Yay for Today is that I am almost ready to go to Belfast to see my bestest friend Vicki who I haven't seen since my birthday in June.

Wine may be consumed, so you will forgive me if there is no post tomorrow.

Sorry that there is no dedicated Strictly Come Dancing post this week- I was working on Saturday and only got home in time to see snippets. I'm glad Claire and Brendan are gone though. I have lost all respect for the woman who was Kim Tate- Kim Tate would never have been so bawdy! And Brendan- yep, he can dance- but I've been reading what a male slapper he is.

Next week will be tough though. The five remaining couples (does anyone else now say "couples" in a Tess Daly style Northern accent???) are all really good.

My money is still on Mark Ramprakash though.... Saturday nights have never been so good.

Operation Pollyanna- On the Jazz

(I dedicate today's post to my work colleague Erin, who is always 'on the jazz')

DID YOU that George Peppard, aka Hannibal from the A Team has a cousin who lives in Derry?

He has a fancy house up the Culmore Road, near Da Vincis- tres posh and yes, his surname is Peppard and not Doherty or something equally Derry.

My friend Erin told me that and she should know as she is the biggest A Team fan in the world- bar none.

Anyway, being such a big A Team fan, Erin has a suitable quote from the show for every occasion. Her most commonly touted expression these days is that she loves it when she is on the jazz, and no that does not refer to any illegal drug taking.

'On the Jazz' refers to those times in your life when you are top form. For me, it's usually when I'm work and the words are flying forth from my fingers and every line is journalistically sound. (You know, the days when I don't spent three quarters of an hour trying to think of a headline before I even start the story.)

Today's positive vibe is that despite it being a Sunday, I was very much on the jazz in work today. I got my head down, battered my copy through and enjoyed it muchly.

And then I got home (a little early) and made dinner for the two men in my life.

It was a lovely day- one where I have almost put all the stressy thoughts in my life at the moment regarding my creative writing to the back of my head.

Simple pleasures people- that's what it is all about.

Operation Pollyanna- A Little World of My Own

DAY ONE of Operation Pollyanna and so far, so good.

Despite himself being a generally grumpy bugger, I've managed not to lose my cool- which is pretty impressive for me.

Now to report the positives from my day

1) My sister has booked me a ticket to see Westlife in the Odyssey next April. Yes, that is my secret shame... I love Westlife and as for Shane, I so would...

I tried to find an appropriately handsome picture for this blog (you know, one with him and his wanger hanging out or something) but apparantly he really is that clean cut. More's the pity.

But pulling my mind back out of the gutter. They may not be big or clever, but Westlife are fun and this will be my second time seeing them in concert. I'm sure it's going to be fandabulous.

2) I managed to write 1,000 words of Signed, Sealed, Delivered today...taking me just over the 40,000 mark which makes me feel very exceptionally happy.

So day one down, two positives. Let's see what tomorrow brings.

I'm not crazy....

THE WONDERFUL Shirley MacLaine, while playing the equally wonderful Ouiser Bordeaux in 'Steel Magnolias', once said: "I'm not crazy, I've just been in a very bad mood for the last 40 years."

I may not be 40 (God forbid, I'm still coming to terms with 30 for now) but I know exactly where the old dear was coming from.

Do you ever catch a glimpse of yourself and wonder who on earth the grumpy baggage looking back at you is?

Or maybe you read over old emails, or forum posts or replay a phone conversation you had and realise that you may in fact be one of those toxic friends you are always warning people about.

You know what I'm talking about here, the kind of friend who brings everyone down with their constant whinging and moaning and generally feeling sorry for themselves-itis.

There are times when I think "I am what I am" (and sing the song of the same name loudly) and realise people can either like me or lump me, but there are also times when I want to change to become a more positive person.

I don't want to do a complete 180 and become a Pollyanna, but just someone who didn't automatically think or fear the worst would be good.

So I'll try a little experiment and each day on this Blog for the next seven nights I will post something positive about my day.

Let's call it Operation Pollyanna!

I don't feel like dancing

This week's colum is inspired somewhat by Tacky Tuesday.

HAVING RECENTLY become the not so proud owner of a new (read that as 10 years old) Corsa, I have been reliving my youthful horrendous taste in music due to the fact that I now rely on an olde worlde cassette player for my in-car entertainment.
I admit I was pretty spoiled with our last car (which himself has now claimed as his own). It had a fancy(ish) CD player which allowed me to listen to all the cool tunes of the day while driving to and from work.
There was nothing better than getting behind the steering wheel, switching on the engine and listening to the sexy sounds of James Morrison as I drove over the new bridge on my way home. (Admittedly more often than not, if the wee man was in the car with me, James Morrison would be replaced by 'The Wheels on the Bus'- which was not quite as relaxing).
But when the Corsa came into my ownership, things changed and I had to abandon Mr. Morrison and my other CDs including my newly purchased and much loved Paolo Nutini CD.After several weeks of relying on Radio One for company (Great in the morning with Chris Moyles, kind of rubbish in the afternoon with Scott Mills) I decided to hunt out my old tapes from the top of the wardrobe to see if there was anything actually worth listening to again.

Instead of finding the cutting edge of late 80s and early 90s tunes I uncovered a veritable music collection of shame. In my haul I found two Bros tapes, a Celine Dion album, an offering from Mariah Carey, Garth Brook's Greatest Hits (everyone had this one? Didn't they?) and Lionel Ritchie's 'Back to Front' collection.I had two choices as I saw it. I could hide the tapes back in their darkened hidey hole and hope they never saw the light of day again or I could listen to them and see if they retained any of the appeal that attracted me to them in the first place.I opted for the second option and as the strains of the Celine Dion power ballad 'Think Twice' flooded through my car I was suddenly transported back 12 years to my room in the Halls of Residence at Jordanstown where I would play this song over and over again marvelling at the power of the emotion behind it.
Yes, I suppose I always knew Celine Dion had a pretty annoying voice but it didn't matter back then. Not when I was 18 and full of weird notions about love and slow dances.
Mariah Carey's 'Music Box' brought back equally embarrassing memories- mostly about being madly in love with a class mate who then went on to break my heart, and as for Garth Brooks- it will forever be associated with four hour bus runs to Dublin to spend the weekend with my then boyfriend (now my husband). Of course 'If Tomorrow Never Comes' will always be sung the way I heard it at a street party in Rosemount as 'If My Giro Never Comes'.
No one can fail to smile when listening to Lionel Ritchie. Songs like 'Dancing on the Ceiling' and 'Still' are real guilty pleasures. I know I probably shouldn't like them, but I can't help but enjoy a wee warble along. And if I'm honest, cheesy and all as it is, 'Hello' still brings a wee tear to my cynical eyes. I mean, in the video the blind girl was able to sculpt his face from clay even though she had never seen him.
It was enough to warm the coldest heart.I have to admit that much as I'm supposed to be a sensible, grown up and sophisticated lady of the noughties, reliving my musical youth was quite enjoyable.The songs haven't improved withthe years, but it was nice to experience them again and find that I still remembered all the words.
I mean these are all songs from back in the days when you would sit by your tape player in the evenings, stopping the tape every few seconds so you could write down the words and commit the lyrics to memory. (Please, it wasn't just me, was it?)Most of the songs were of the nature that they could only really properly be enjoyed when in a house or car on your own so that you can sing as loudly and out of tune-ly as possible.
Of course having tapes when you are used to the convenience of CDs is a pain in the bum. You can't just automatically hit the back button to hear the song again or skip past the dodgier tunes like 'The Thunder Rolls' on the Garth Brooks' album.
You have guess when to hit the stop button and if you miss your spot, then you have to rewind a wee bit again. All that said, it was a nice to take a trip down musical memory lane.
But I'm glad- very, very glad- that no cars out there have record players fitted because if you think my tape selection is bad, you should see the quality of my vinyl.
If 'Ice, Ice Baby' by Vanilla Ice doesn't turn you off, then there is always 'Mona' by Craig McLochlainn, aka Henry from Neighbours. Somehow I don't think those musical classics will ever see the light of day again.

A mad mammy moment

IT'S IMPOSSIBLE to explain how this little creature on the right has enhanced and enriched my life over the last two years and 10 months.

Every day I'm proud of him. Every day he makes me laugh a real deep and heartfelt laugh that feels entirely 100% natural.

And there are moments, like tonight when I saw his face completely light up as Santa switched on the Christmas lights in Derry that the very emotion of caring for him, loving him and feeling proud of him almost takes my breath away.

The crowds were cheering around us, but my eyes were locked on this perfect little creature.

There are times were motherhood really does feel like the world's greatest blessing.

Tacky Tuesday- Celine Dion

I FULLY realise that 'Tackfest Tuesday' may actually only be serving to show the world what truly appalling taste I had in music, but nonetheless this week is dedicated to the Canadian songstress Celine Dion and specifically her 1993 (so more like 94 over here) album 'The Colour of My Love'.

I should perhaps explain further. In my late teenage years while at university there were two major things in my life which prompted me to listen to the music.

The first was the fact I was dying about this fellah in my class and I literally thought my heart would break into a jillion pieces if he didn't love me back. It got so bad that me and my mucker Gillian would drive around the area where said stalkee lived and looking fornlornly at his house hoping he would see that as a reason to fall in love with me.

It never happened.

But nonetheless what did happen is that I became hopelessly addicted to tacky power ballads the likes of Celine Dion and Mariah Carey and as I also had to spend a good three hours on a bus to and from Belfast each week I listened to them a lot and thought they were singing about me and my unrequited passion and doomed romance.

There are so many wonderfully tacky songs on the 'Colour of My Love' to choose from ('Refuse to Dance' being particularly naff') but this week I'll opt for the power ballad 'Think Twice'.

Don't think I can't feel that there's something wrong

You've been the sweetest part of my life so long

I look in your eyes, there's a distant light

And you and I know there'll be a storm tonight

This is getting serious Are you thinking 'bout you or us (chorus)

Don't say what you're about to say

Look back before you leave my life

Be sure before you close that door

Before you roll those dice

Baby think twice

Baby think twice for the sake of our love, for the memory

For the fire and the faith that was you and me

Baby I know it ain't easy when your soul cries out for a higher ground '

Coz when you're halfway up, you're always halfway down (My favourite bit by the way)

But baby this is serious

Are you thinking 'bout you or us (repeat first chorus)

Baby this is serious (this is serious)

Are you thinking 'bout you or us Baby

Don't say what you're about to say (no no no no) (Best sung when drunk)

Look back before you leave my life (don’t leave my life)

Be sure before you close that door

Before you roll those dice

Baby think twice