Best Designed Blog 2008:

Now with more fluff

The universe works in mysterious ways. After having won the Best Designed Blog award, I now cannot get Windows to boot on my workstation upstairs. I am instead trapped on my laptop, where my full compliment of graphics programs consists of the less than helpful Microsoft Paint. This is what happens when you win a design award and don’t thank PhotoShop: It cuts you off at the knees and leaves you with no design headers.

I have no idea what I said when I went up to accept my award, but as Annie pointed out, it’s a slightly odd award in that technically, it isn’t about your topic, your content, your readers or your comments. “I’d sincerely like to thank Adobe PhotoShop for being a pig of a program” isn’t much of a speech though.

What I hope I conveyed in my stutterings is that it means a lot to me to have been so accepted by the Irish blogging community. I’m a transplant, I have a hideous American accent, and I barely made it into eligibility for this year’s awards since I only started blogging here in November. I was delighted to win, sincerely. Thank you!

And now on to the gossip. People who were not what I expected:

  • In addition to being a trifecta winner, having a new book out and being unbearably nice in person, Twenty is not remotely scary. Who’d of thought?
  • Bock the Robber? All front. The sweetest, friendliest, nicest crumpet of a bloke ever. He was just lovely to me, although I see he’s gone back to being grumpy this morning. And my God, he smells divine.
  • Una, who does indeed rock, is about twelve years old. Seriously, I was concerned her mammy let her out of the house without an adult to accompany her at street crossings.
  • Paul Walsh is disarmingly doe-eyed in person. I, however, was armed with vodka. Wow, did that not end well. Oops.

As I said before, if I mentioned everyone I met on Saturday, we’d be here until next year. So instead, I’ve decided to hand out awards to people who were simply outstanding in a number of unofficial Blog Awards categories:

  • Best Stickers: Elly Parker, for the hilarious What Would Mulley Do? stickers that kept turning up in the strangest places.
  • Best Dressed Blogger: MaryRose. Second time I’ve met her and each time, she looks totally put together and stunning. She has promised to hook me up with her stylist because I have got to learn what to wear when pyjamas are not an option.
  • Best Eyebrows: Sinead Gleeson. Eyebrows that artful require a dedication to grooming to which I can only aspire.
  • Best Hat: Ken McGuire. You go, sk8ter boi.
  • Best Stalker Fan: Darragh Doyle. Oh my God, I just want to bring him home and pet him and love him and call him George. So fabulous.
  • Biggest Bar Tab: Deb Hadley. A girl who apparently cannot say to no to buying everyone a drink. I was standing next to her when she checked out, and Jesus wept (literally) over her bar tab.
  • Best Constitution: Suzy, who was somehow able to make it to brunch the next day while everyone else slacked off with sore heads. She and Mrs Suzy also did a champion job holding down registrations.
  • Most Interesting Conversationalist Who’s Blog I’d Never Read: Jo Murphy. Seriously, if we had more time, we could absolutely chivvy the world into being the liberal bastion of our dreams. Alas.
  • Most Angelic: Aisling from turned up wearing a stunning dress and looking completely ethereal from head to hem. Cow!
  • Most Argued Over: Aoife McIndieHour. The husband and I are disputing who called dibs…
  • Worst Aftermath: Elana. All the hangovers in the world don’t beat this for pants.

A special award goes to Ross Costigan – not for Best Hair, but for Weirdest Conversation:

Me: Jesus, I hate Americans.
Ross: Ha ha ha, right on! Me too! Where are you from?
Me: Oh, umm, New York.
Ross: [Implodes with does not compute.]

And yeah, there’s a story there; no, it doesn’t involve a Blog Awards attendee; and yes, I will post that rant later this week.

Finally, and this is very important: I have lost the card (and therefore the name) of the tall, charming US-admitted Irish un-lawyer selling his soul to BigTelco. Please, please drop me a line if you read this.