I was in the attic, looking for something else, which is the best way to find anything, says Colm O’Regan.

THERE was a strange moment during the last 10 minutes of the Ireland-England rugby match last weekend. England were attacking the Irish line. It was a situation for phrases that evoke warfare: ‘battering’, ‘pummelling’, ‘last-ditch effort’, ‘holding on grimly’ and ‘Paul O’Connell’.

BEFORE I start, I should say that the Irish Examiner website is my gateway into the world. Occasionally, though, I will look at other newspaper websites — just to see what second- and third-best look like.

TO PARAPHRASE the Hal David and Burt Bacharach song: If you see me walking down the street and I start to wince, walk on by.

Some people love theirs. Others hate it and would change it if they could. It’s your name — not just your first name but the whole package.

It had been a while since I was in one: The old-style restaurant. By old-style, I don’t mean a mediaeval tavern where food is served by lusty maids who slam down jugs of ale in front of you while looking at you lasciviously. I mean pre-2000 old-style.

A man called Andy talks gently in my ear and I’m at ease with that. It’s part of a New Year’s Resolution.

YOU don’t see them in coffee-table books. They don’t appear on JustAnotherListWebsite.com’s ‘20 Reasons To Visit Ireland Before You Die’. They get a bad press. 

A COLD wind is sweeping through the house. But it doesn’t originate from any point on the map, unless there is a cardinal direction on the compass called ‘CHANGE’. Yes, a howling Change-rly gale is whirling, leaving a trail of neatness in its wake.

MY car doesn’t have a complicated dashboard. It gives very little feedback or nothing involving the word ‘Diagnostics’ or “Realtime Information”. “Get petrol” or “The key is on”, it mutters gruffly from time to time. Except today.