Sunday, 29 April 2007
Today Was Saturday
I got up reasonably early today- ten-ish (yeah I know, you all get up at seven to commence your exciting lives -Pah!). The sun was shining and time to get my curls cut. I had hopes of growing my hair, seems I always do, but when it gets to the unattended look, I lose heart and have it cut. Besides at some point it would mean having to face the possibility of a ponytail, and that's illegal.
I got home and grabbed the dogs headed here. Been faffing around adding some stuff to my Hoover, some of which I borrowed from Rob. Specifically this track though, which really lifted the spirits, and occasionally, nearly (isbw, take heed) made me break out into a run.
Madame Suicide reminds me she's off to spend my hard earned money on my return. I remind her I haven't any, so she steals my credit cards and is gone.
On, then, to the important business of the day. Last home game of the season. I love attending football matches, always have. It's theatre to me (well, maybe panto). I'm not much good at the stats and the history and the standings in the tables (not to mention the drinking and shouting). I just love to be there. It's the one place I can go and all the troubles melt away. Literally nothing matters when I'm inside the ground. Time stands still.
Now and then, you get to see a rock god in the flesh. I like to watch people's reaction to this particular character as he makes his way around the ground.. Some say 'Hi' to him, most just stop as he gets level with them and stare at his back. He wanders among us like a mortal.
I linger after the game has been won, to watch the player of the year awards, and the lap of honour by the team. It's been a reasonable season and maybe it's not over yet.
Home again, in the sunshine, to dinner with Madame S. and the hounds of hell.
She doesn't want to watch a movie, so I meander and potter and listen to the fabulous last.fm.
I've been reading blog entries recently where authors are trying to define their goals in life. I don't really intend to follow this trap. A goal is a destination, I intend to enjoy the journey*.
I feel blessed.
* © Valentine Suicide Bullshit and Cliched Philosophy. All Rights Reserved. heh.