Seachain an duine a bhíonn ina thost

This is shaping up to be a bad week.

For a start, my idealistic world view took another blow. Turns out that good doesn't triumph over evil and that in a position of responsibility you have to make big choices between principles and pragmatism. Very frustrating.

There's far too much to do: tomorrow I'm busy in meetings all day when I should be out campaigning for the referendum.

But worst of all, I burnt an oven glove onto my finger last night. Again.

My driving licence has arrived, so British road users beware. I will shortly be unleashing my driving mayhem onto the streets of Bangor.

I was rather relieved to get my passport back from the DVLA though: the day after I sent it to DVLA Swansea (special delivery so it would definitely have arrived in one day) they got a letter bomb. I was a little worried that either my passport would blow up or they'd blame me because I'm an Irish terrorist.

I've spent about half an hour today standing on a chair with a fan blowing up my skirt. What a varied job this is.

Council went very smoothly last night. I expected the various electoral factions to make more of a display of the whole thing in true Prime Minister's Question Time style, so was pleasantly surprised to find that this was not the case.

It was also Friday's first shot at chairing, and a damn good job he did too. I was particularly impressed with his skill at silencing an entire room with one fearsome whistle. What a talent!

See? It's not that messy.

Went to the comedy night in Academi for the first time last night. There were three performers: the warm-up lady, the headliner and the compere/MC guy.

The warm-up lady wasn't great. She had a few good jokes, but it was all very "I'm a girl and so all my jokes must be about being single and having sex". It was somewhat unfortunate, too, that she (against all the odds) managed to choose the same girl as the MC to ask "do you have a boyfriend? Is he romantic?"

The headliner started strongly with some witty limericks and a rather risque dialogue about disabled parking spaces. But it all felt pretty monotonous after a while; there's only so many times I want to hear "fuck" and "cunt" in one evening. And his accent was annoying.

But the MC was wonderful. He really was. He managed to choose the most excellent audience members to pick on: a (non-student) guy who had four children with four different women, a guy studying environmental forensics, and the gaggle of women at the back who kept screaming every time he said anything.

Pancakes for lunch, I think.

I've had quite a lovely weekend. It started with a walk up Holyhead Mountain; nice to get out in the fresh air once in a while, particularly on a nice bright sunny day.

South Stack lighthouse was looking pretty. Must go visit it properly sometime.



It got pretty cloudy as we approached the top, though, so no stunning views.



Today I went to Treborth to join in the BIFSA walking tour of the ancient woodlands. It was really lovely -- very sunny again, good company and gorgeous woodlands, and it's always nice listening to Nigel.

As we got back to Bangor we bumped into this:



Surprising, to say the least. This is Bangor's version of Chinatown.

My desk is now tidy. Ha!

Well, this is it, first candidates' briefing in twenty minutes. The Elections start here.

Mmmm, Ann just saved my evening. I was feeling tired and hungry and suddenly she presented me with a packet of Duchy Original lemon biscuits, i.e. THE BEST BISCUITS IN THE WORLD.