Hello, how is living in the new shiny, touchy-feely, hug-tastic, Britain? I for one can not wait to get back into the love in so I can take a Conservative in my loving arms and tell them all the mean things I said in the past were just to hide my true feelings.
Are you nervous yet? I am. T-minus 8 minutes until Charlton go into battle to valiantly come up just short in the play off second leg. T-minus minutes 7 now!
Felicity had a friend over from England and she flew to Biarritz. On Saturday brave Mauro took it upon himself to drive this damzel to Biarritz himself, and I managed to worm my way into the car for the drive. Saturdays in Biarritz? Well of course darling. We lowered the standards of the classy seaside resort by playing some beach football to the bemusement of locals and laughter of children. I'm sticking to the story that the laughter was based (THE PLAYOFF HAS KICKED OFF!!!!) on the fact that it was cold and had recently rained because it couldn't possibly be due to our skills, which were velvety.
France really is a lovely place but that was until I saw Robin Hood which shows us how evil the French truly are! Fuck France, England number 1! I watched it in the cinema, in Spanish and managed to follow what was going on. Unfortunately that is due to the plotting predictiability of the plot than my grasp of the language but every line I did understand was a small triumph. Being in Spanish I missed Russel Crowe's accent which I had the pleasure of hearing today. A strange Aussie, Geordie, Scouse, Irish mix.
Sunday was spent trying to follow the glorious England triumph over Australia in the Twenty20 World Cup Final. It has been a weekend revelling in nationalism. My students don't understand just why I'm so excited by this but some of them are Basques, the only region to deem wood chopping to be a competitive sport deserving some serious television coverage.
The other half of Sunday was dedicated to Osasuna's last game of the season. They got to play the part of evil crusher of romance as they relegated the people's team Xerez. At the start of the season Xerez were hailed as the worst team to ever play in the Spanish top division but an amazing second half of the season almost saw them survive. The romance of them surviving was so strong that even Osasuna's fan were singing for them. I mean really singing for them, waving Xerez flags, calling the Osasuna manager a bitch for putting out a strong team and berating their own goalkeeper every time he made a save. It finished 1-1, the Osasuna goal scorer being booed, and it wasn't enough for poor Xerez. The only people to get more abuse than the Osauna players were the riot police who dispersed a pitch invasion at the final whistle.
YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Charlton have scored!!!!!!
As you can see I have ceased to live in the world that exists as I have decisions to make so have started living in a sport world. I know it's not healthy. I've decided I need a hobby, but don't know what. Maybe wood chopping. I'm sorry this post may be very dull if you're not a sports fan! I'm off to manically refresh the page for the second half. My finger has been well trained in this delicate art.
love love love x
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