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We're off to a 30th Birthday on Friday. This is the card we're giving thanks to Moonpig. She will literally kill me but I'll die laughing.

If I sent an email to everyone in my address book telling you the sad story of a woman who lost her husband all because she didn't forward an email on, or of a little girl who wants her email to be forward to as many people as possible, or a poem about how we're friends and always will be even if we don't speak to each other as often as we should, or even an email full of questions about what I ate last night, what's to my left and who I miss or who I kissed last and who my last text messages was from then I could be sure of getting replies.

I'd guess, going from past experience, that about 60% of those receiving it would forward it on to everyone in their address book and even send it back to me to let me know they care. About 25% would only send it back to me and then delete it and the final 15% would delete it call me many different names for even sending the message on in the first place.

So looking at my address I have over 300 email address of friends and family. People I know well online and some I don't, many I know in real life before the days of emailing and the internet.

Converting my figures to my address book means approximately 180 people would forward any email on as well as sending it back, 75 would send it to me only and delete and 45 people would call me a cunt.

With all that in mind, when I send an email asking for help, asking people to actually give up five or ten minutes of their day to aid me in some small quest or venture, a request which would cost nothing but time and is easily answerable by anyone and everyone, why is that I'll get maybe no more than 15 replies from people, four or five of which actually help, the others just promise help in the future only for it never to turn up. Of the 15 replies I know every single person so even if they have forwarded on, like I'd have asked, then their friends can't be bothered helping so what does that say about the friends, if it's been forwarded on at all.

Now before any of you start telling me you've never received a request for help from me, or you remember getting an email and you're sure you helped, and before any of you start sending me PM's (or even an email!) let me assure you that this is something that goes back a little while, when my friends list was small and even of those friends on it it's doubtful I had your email address anyway. It's not aimed at anyone in particular, just a mild musing about how easily lead we are by a sob story or an affectionate gesture.

Next time I send something out, I'll plead, offer money and maybe tell you that you're by best friend in the whole wide world even though I've never met you and all I know about you is a username and 1" square icon on a screen.

Of course, if I was to send something out in the next couple of days, after I could be sure most of my friends have read this, then would they (you) feel like they (you again) had to reply just in case I was keeping a tally of who did and didn't? How many of you are already thinking this is just a way to get more replies to an email I'm going to send out any day now? You'd be wrong but not blamed for thinking that, it's human nature I suppose, even on the internet we get suspicious and often withdraw to protect ourselves. I'm not going to though. Send out a mass email that is. Not just yet. These thoughts all stem for an email I read from a while back... yes I do keep them that long... one I sent out asking for people to help. When I searched for replies I found very few, and even less of any use.

Now as some of you will know Meno came flying into Galway last week to vist the Brad and m'sen. Soy turned up a few hours later demanding crippy's and booze. Actually the only thing she demanded was a way home other than flying but all she got was crippy's and booze. Rampage turned up on the Saturday and after being ID'd in the doorway of a local STD clinic he got very angry at home and threw a bottle of beer at the wall!

Through-out all this came the suggestion that we all drive to Florida, as is the drunken thing to do. This of course changed to driving to Calgary to visit Meno, which of course is stupid thing to do... the drive that is, not the visit.

But... it wouldn't be so silly to fly would it? (Soy sighed heavily upon hearing this already worrying about her one hour flight back on Monday!)

So, after much talking and even more drinking a plan was developed which basically goes along the lines of ...

Who wants to come see Meno in Calgary?

At the moment I'm just after an idea of numbers but to give you a clue as to what we (Myself, as Blog Ambassador, and my minions) were thinking here it is...

April or August are the two best dates so far but I'm open to suggestion. (as ever!)

You're going to be looking at around £500 for the return flight from Heathrow to Calgary. You'll have to make your own way to Heathrow. I will be looking into accommodation in Calgary and though I'd go for a cheap B&B or even a hostel if that's okay with people. Hostels are so bad and are great fun!

I'm waiting to hear off BA about a group discount and so far they've been very helpful.

So, if you're interested leave a comment saying so and tell me when would be good for you.

Go get your ten things! Clicky Clicky!

For those of you interested here is my social diary for the next twelve days.

Tuesday (today) - A day off. Some shopping and a little light house keeping.
Wednesday - Work. 8am to 9pm in St. Johns.
Thursday - Drop dogs at the Duggan, drive to Knock, fly to UK, eat curry at Laboni.
Friday - An hour with the golf pro in the morning (oooh err!), visiting family in the afternoon, 30th party on the evening.
Saturday - Oversleep, meet Jon in town for an Americano and brandy-snap. Free evening.
Sunday - Oversleep, rush to Drayton Manor Park and Zoo, home for the 3 S's then off to put myself through hell watching the video of my 30th birthday. A video I hate with a passion reserved only for my Aunt Janet.
Monday - Oversleep. Try and calm down from the night before. Fail.
Tuesday - Fly into Knock with Mother. Drive to the Duggans to get dogs, drive home. Collapse.
Wednesday - Take mother to the Pier Head and push her off in Kinvara for a lovely meal. Return home and wonder how I spent so much.
Thursday - Spend the day fending of mothers questions about my future. Drive her to Knock and wave goodbye. Come home and die.
Friday - Work. 8am to 9pm in St. Johns.
Saturday - Work. 8am to 9pm in St. Johns.
Sunday - Work 8am to 9pm in St. Johns.

I think that about covers it.

End of message.

There have been one or two things stopping me from blogging as much as I used to.

Firstly there is the log-out problem here. Over the last month it seems to have changed what it does so now I can spend an hour logged in and then get booted and continue to get booted very few minutes. That last about 15 minutes and then settles down.

Secondly our Internet since November has been through a little Vodafone 3G modem. It's been great but also shit at the same time. Connection is slow so reading blogs with big blog headers (even my own) has been difficult and add that to the logout problem and it doesn't make for a happy blogging experience let alone all the other stuff I do on the net!

Finally earlier this year my laptop battery gave out. Yes, I have a power cable but if I'm sat in the kitchen and decide to move to the lounge I have to shutdown everything then move into the lounge and restart everything back up. A right royal pain in the hole!

Well over the last week my log out issue seems non-existent! Huzah! Yesterday our bright and shiny broadband finally arrived and last week I bought a new laptop battery!

So, fingers crossed, with all that and the iPhone I should be back to blogging speed.

I'd now like to leave you with a joke.

A cruise on the Pacific goes all wrong, the ship sinks, and there are only 3 Survivors; Damian, Darren and Deirdre. They manage to swim to a small island and they lived there for a couple of years doing what's natural for men and women to do. After several years of casual sex, all the time, Deirdre felt absolutely horrible about what she was doing. She felt having sex with both Damian and Darren was so bad that she killed herself. It was tragic but Damian and Darren managed to get through it and, after while, nature once more took its inevitable course. Well, a couple more years went by and Damian and Darren began to feel absolutely horrible about what they were doing. So they buried Deirdre.