I Am Getting Old

I Am Getting Old

Seriously, I have just had a gala weekend most WGs would give their eye teeth to have. I mean I did Belle Du Jour proud. Starting with the taking of a long and through bath, shaving, waxing manicuring, pedicuring, hair curling, and a deft application of make up that rendered my skin flawless. It took about an hour and a half to apply it just right, checking it from different angles. If I do say so myself, it was magnificent. Urban Decay-Glinda limited eye shadow palette for those curious.

The dress was Valentino, the shoes Louboutins, the bag McQueen, the accessories were blinging as should warrant the opening of a grand hotel in London. The champagne flowed, as it should at these things, I was chatted up by several rather famous and infamous people. I was in my element, holding court. This was Violette at the top of her game. I am now down to a dress size 36-38! And have been training with a new personal trainer that makes satan look fluffy, but that boy has snapped me into shape in 12 weeks. He was worth every penny. Yes at 6 ft tall I am now a size 36-38! So I am thin, tall, and fit as fuck, as the boys in Liverpool are known to chant as a mantra when they visit me. Even clients who saw me two months ago, have said when seeing me now. Bloody hell woman, you have one figure on you. The ego is boosted. I should be feeling beautiful, fine, and ready to take on the world? Right?

Then why am I so fucking bored with it all? Seriously, have I become so jaded, that gala events with international famous people, now leave me yawning and desperate for a pair of pink fuzzy slippers? Or is it that I am getting old? I just don’t understand the sudden dissatisfaction with the status quo. Mind you I am loving the new fit and toned bod. No carbs pass my lips now, nor sugar, occasionally a bit of fruit, but that is about once a week. So, my muscle mass is lean, my ass is still perky(after the deep squats, that bastard of a personal trainer makes me do.), but hey I will always have that. The rest of me is trim, toned and tidy.

I think my overall problem is that I have actually been working too damn hard! Thus the dissatisfaction with the current situation. Another reason why I am not really touring in Ireland anymore. Way too much like hard work. Seriously, the fun is gone, it is too much stress, for too little gain. Thus the new trimmer, leaner, meaner, and seriously higher priced Violette. I am over renting myself out by the hour. It is gruelling. But when the money was brilliant, I was up for it all. Now with clients calling and bargaining! No thank you, I will take myself off to other climes more suitable to my temperament, and bank balance.

Charity Begins at Home

Charity Begins at Home

I am sitting in my bed, feeling like left-overs from a rave party, in other words I am feeling like crap. So, what do I like to do on a Sunday morning feeling like crap or not, is to troll the web looking for stuff, fun, interesting, otherwise. Now like most people who do tend to be totally self observed in our own lives, we hear about things but unless we are directly affected by them we tend to disregard them. So, I am updating my websites for my new upcoming tour, and deciding what will be the special for the Month of February, last month it was OWO included in the hour price, and some small discounts. But this month I have decided to give to charity namely this charity, Haitian Earthquake Response. So, here is the deal this month: “OWO for Haiti” Basically it works like this, OWO is an extra, but I will ask you to make a donation for that extra, which will then go to charity. At the end of my tour I will make the donation, under the name of Violette Dew, with the a Comment: “Friends of Violette”. Now, for those of you who will try to take the piss, and offer 1 euro for charity and receive OWO in return, there is a minimum donation amount, which I will tell you in person.

I know things here in Ireland are tough, but people, you have it good in comparison to the people suffering in Haiti at the moment. So, cum see me, have a bit of fun, and give to charity at the same time. You will have done the deed, and a good deed all at the same time. How is that for feel good factor? Kisses Violette

Winter Wonderland-Ireland January 2010

Winter Wonderland-Ireland January 2010

I enjoy traveling by train, it allows for a few hours of letting go and getting something done at the same time. A unique instance. I started my latest tour in Ireland at the end of 2009, not expecting it to be too exciting, well I was pleasantly surprised, not only by the clients, but also by the weather. I mean Ireland was turned into a winter wonderland. I couldn’t click fast enough, everything was so pristine and well beautiful. I was quite over come but the stark beauty of the Irish countryside. Here are some of the images I shot on a train ride from Dublin to Mullingar, on 9 Jan. Then a few days after, all the snow was melted. 
Enjoy.



Hot Water revisited, and Funny Names for things.

Hot Water revisited, and Funny Names for things.

I have seriously come to the conclusion that even though it sounds like we are speaking the same language, there are some things that get lost in translation. Or in definition, is more like it. Allow me to explain. Let’s take as an example the word rock. One of its meanings is-This is the one I had in mind at the time:
rock |räk|
noun
1 the solid mineral material forming part of the surface of the earth and other similar planets, exposed on the surface or underlying the soil or oceans.
• a mass of such material projecting above the earth’s surface or out of the sea : there are dangerous rocks around the island.
• Geology any natural material, hard or soft (e.g., clay), having a distinctive mineral composition.

Now with this in mind, I will embark on my latest adventure. I was in the lovely county of Tipperary, in the town of Cashel. And having some free time on my hands I went to visit the Cashel Rock! You can see where this is going? So, armed with camera, water and comfy shoes, sun hat, and shades. I set off up the hill, looking for this rock. Now considering it is a tourist attraction, I figured it would be a rather large rock, a fair assumption considering there was a thriving shop at the bottom of the hill, and loads of lovely little B&Bs. Well I walked up the hill, entered gate, walked around this rather ancient keep saw the chapel, the cross, and still no rock! Ok, I figured maybe I missed it. I went round the back, looked over the edge, looked up even, still no rock, now I was beginning to feel cheated! Just to be on the safe side, I did another look round, until finally in exasperation I asked someone, where the Rock of Cashel was? They blinked thinking I was taking the piss, and answered, this is the rock. I said, “Where, I don’t see a rock. Is it a small rock hidden in a cupboard? “Then the penny dropped. It wasn’t a rock (see above definition), it was the entire keep that was called the rock! So basically I have been for the better part of an hour or so walking on, in, over, under and around the Rock, I was beginning to feel like a preposition. The poor couple I asked were looking at me a bit funny, I am sure they are still wondering if I was all there.

Ok, this of course got me to thinking, of some more attractive names to call the place, seriously think about it; I love rocks, so I was inclined to trek up a hill to see one, now think of the tourist who isn’t interested in rocks, and would miss a wonderful piece of history. So, I have decided to offer up a few alternative suggestions for the name The Rock Of Cashel.
The Cashel Keep on the Rock
The Hilltop Castle of Cashel
The Rock, but not really a rock but a series buildings, including a chapel and cross, of Cashel
Hilltop View of Cashel.
Just to name a few.

And last but not least. The hot water issue, I am still amazed at the ways they come up with in Ireland to complicate the getting of hot water. It is NEVER straight forward, in addition to flicking switches, and turning knobs, now I have encountered the pulling of strings! Oh for feck’s sake! Oh and of course the string isn’t in the most conspicuous place, sometimes it is in another room all together! If it wasn’t for a kind gentlemen who came to visit me and told me what to look for I would have still been washing myself in the bloody sink. Ah the joys of a traveling escort.

Hot Water!

Hot Water!

Just a few ramblings from a traveling sales woman(pun intended).
Just finished a one of the longest tours ever in Ireland, and I must say, aside for being totally knackered, I was surprised how many people are still being positive in the face of the financial situation. But then again that is the way of the Irish, to put a positive a spin on a bad situation. And let’s face it, we in this part of the world, we really have nothing to complain about, except there are a couple of things I would like to have further clarification on:
1. What is with all the fiffing,fussing, faffing, farting, and fucking about with the hot water in this country? IT is NEVER straight forward! There is always some button to push, some switch to flick, some knob to turn, some timer to set and when all else fails, some prayers to be said to the saint of hot running water. Oh did I forget to mention the water pressure? I can’t tell you how many times I have been down on my knees in the tub, as low as I can get, in the vain hope of getting the shower to dribble some water on my ass. It is amusing now, but it wasn’t at the time.
2.Also, in my travels around the fair Emerald Isle, I have come to the conclusion, it takes longer to travel within the country, than it does to travel outside of it. Example- it takes 3+ hours to get from Dublin to Cork, than it does to get from Dublin to Belfast. Granted it is a shorter distance, but in trying to get around Ireland is I have noticed a adventure in itself. I often feel rather intrepid and adventurous. Plus if the truth be told, I am a bit of a Diva, so when I am told to take a bus, visions of untold horror spring to mind. But there again I have taken the bus and lived to tell the tale, so it isn’t that bad. In the end I suppose my biggest complaint is the amount of time it takes to travel from one place to the other.
3.The Heating situation, I have often noticed in hotel rooms, there is often a tiny wall mounted anemic heater close to the window and as far away from the the center of the room as is architectural possible to put it, with out hanging it out the window. Which is suppose to warm up the room. Again, there is usually some fiffing, fussing, faffing, farting, and a whole lot of fucking around to get the poor thing to work. I mean, it is off or blazing hot, very little in between. Normally I would put on more clothes, but in this line of work I am currently in, well, less is more. So, during the colder months, don’t be surprised to see me when answering the door to be dressed in some serious lovely lingerie, and pink woolly socks! I might start a whole new foot fetish. Let me warm your balls with my woolly feet!
The Cool things I have noticed in my travels:
1. Lovely country side! I had to find something positive about all those long ass train and bus rides!
2. Irish Stew! I have put on kilos eating this stuff, and I haven’t encountered two that are alike. I think it is based on what is available in any give region. Some regions had more than others.
3.Wool Sweaters! Practical keep your-ass-warm-screw-fashion sweaters! You won’t see these on any runway, but when it is wet and raining and miserable outside, you will be thanking the little bare-arsed sheep for the wool it provided to keep your ass warm.
4.Irish Pubs! They don’t work out side of Ireland, the craic isn’t the same. I think I have found a new job, Professional Pub Presence. A person, who is hired(must be Irish) to give an authentic Irish Presence to an Irish Pub, outside of Ireland. Job description: Must like Guinness, must be friendly, and must be able to tell tall tales. Can you see the queue? I love Irish Pubs, the chat is fantastic, and the Guinness is tastier.
5. The regional accents! These are amazing! The Cork accent, is sweet and they sing when they talk, the Donegal accent is fast and runs together-don’t understand a damn thing they are saying- I just nod in what I hope are the appropriate places during the conversation.
Dublin can vary according to neighborhood-a good indication of who is who.
Northern accent is also melodic and gently sweet.
Galway accent is clearer and more harmonious.