I was trying to figure out which parts of's post to cut, and felt that it was awesome enough to include in its near-entirety.I spent the weekend luxuriating in the sunlight.Don't get me wrong. I like Ireland fine, but our seasons go much like this: chill wintry rain, brisk autumnal rain, refreshing spring rain and gentle summery rain. Sometimes hail and snow happens, which we deal with exactly as we would deal with the zombie apocalypse: Fear! Panic! Stock up on the food supplies! Shoot everyone in the head before they eat your brains and the brains of everyone you love! (Maybe not that last part.) But I love sunshine, and it happens so rarely in Ireland I took advantage of this sunshiny weekend to go shopping and lie in the parks with my flatmates.SARAH: I now have everything in the world. Including cocoa butter shower gel.DURHAM LASS: Oh, you think you're just so sophisticated, don't you?SARAH: With my new shower gel, I can say in all confidence that I do.DURHAM LASS: And you like to rub it in mySARAH: ...DURHAM LASS: The sophistication! The sophistication, not the gel.A lady disrobed before us at the Iveagh Gardens where we lay sunning ourselves and caused a sensation.JENNET: I am glad that neither of you girls are ever possessed by an urge to strip down to your skivvies. I would be badly startled.DURHAM LASS: I wouldn't bat an eye if Sarah did it.This was obviously a reference to a Certain Easily Misunderstood Episode of my girlhood.I will explain it to you, so that you understand that the Durham Lass in mentioning this was being completely unfair in casting aspersions on my virtue. Because none of it was my fault.As I may have mentioned before, I had something of a youthful weakness for dares. I was sitting around a lunch room in my convent school with several other girls, when one of them dared me to climb into a very tiny cupboard.Naturally, I took and triumphantly completed the dare. I crowed my triumph from inside my tiny cage.Then I tried to get out.That didn't go so well. Jammed up very small in a tiny prison of wood, I began to feel uneasy about the entire situation. But my trusty comrades told me not to panic.Our Catholic schoolgirl uniform (everyone turn off the va-va-voom music right now!) was thick and woollen to prevent any males of the species who might ever behold us from guessing we had any shapes at all. As one girl wisely pointed out, the uniform took up a lot of room. Surely without clothing, I would have room to wiggle out and be free!Carefully my schoolfriends tore my uniform off. (Seriously, enough with the music.)Then I tried to make my escape. Unfortunately, I was still stuck fast.At this point I felt it was well past time for panic, but then another schoolfriend had a brainwave. Think of the phrase slippery as a greased pig, she said loudly!The statement was sufficiently bizarre that I stopped hyperventilating in order to demand an explanation.She explained that greased pigs are apparently slippery enough so that people can't catch them. Apparently this is an actual sport in some places. People trapped in cupboards wearing only their delicates shouldn't judge others, so I simply nodded.She then seized up the butter dish on our table and advanced on me with a terrible glint in her eye.People trapped in cupboards can't run. So I endured, and it was working! Slowly but surely I eased my way out of the cupboard.I was almost free when our Matron, a plump but severe lady in a crisp white uniform, came in to check on us. She stood transfixed in the doorway as she beheld three girls diligently applying butter to another student, as said student flailed half in and half out of a very small cupboard.Eventually she said 'GIRLS! That butter belongs to the school, you know.'For the next two years I went to convent school (until I didn't anymore, and that is several other stories) and all any of us had to do was whisper 'That butter belongs to the school, you know' for us to break down laughing. It also became a regular term for something that was forbidden: someone else's boyfriend? A trip out of bounds? School butter.That aside, I hope you can all see that the Durham Lass's accusation was utterly unfounded. Because I generally regard public disrobing as total school butter.