Blues at home

It's strange it not being in winter. OK so technically it IS winter here, what with it being only twenty degrees an all, but it's weird it not being an ENGLISH winter, a cold miserable IT'S CHRISTMAS SOON YOU CAN'T ESCAPE IT winter. I was reminded of this as I watched Wolves vs Blues via a shitty internet stream from Arabia (mm hmm) that froze very often and once for the whole first half of the second half, in fact more than that because I missed both goals.

Anyway, at half time (for which it worked perfectly of course) there were adverts of christmas things, and winter clothes, and more christmas deals at Asda and Tesco and all other sorts of detestable places. In India there is NOTHING to tell you of the upcoming day, so this was quite strange. In fact I lie, there is one MASSIVE poster (and I really mean MASSIVE) that says "Extra Christmas!!!" or something in big letters, accompanied by a man with a big moustache and a bigger smile, and lots of Telugu words. Whatever this means, it is being celebrated on the 13th-15th though. Who knows...

I don't know what my point is. I am quite tired and hungover so I don't need a point today. It's OK. The point is to not think, not put oneself to effort, lay down a bit (a lot) and to survive until tommorow. Then all the other points can come back and invade and start troubling again. But not this day.

One such point (see how I'm linking my paragraphs, dear reader. Weep at my ingenuity!) is that I'M COMING BACK IN LESS THAN A MONTH. This is in capitals because I only just counted and it shcoked me a little. How time flashes by without one knowing.

Another point is linked to this point, in that I have NO idea what to do when I get back jobwise, and lifewise really. This, as I have mentioned to some of you lucky souls, is scaring me a bit. A lot. Yes, I have this vague notion of working for a charity or something and not getting holed up in some grad scheme that locks you down for life or whatever, but it's all very well being idealistic now but at the edge of the cliff it is not so easy. Don't trap me world. Please.

Ideal jobs?

1. I would quite like to own a quaint second-hand bookstore. It would have very little order and have huge piles everywhere of quite fantastic 1960s sci-fi ETC books and lo-fi indie would quietly meander away in the background without anyone really noticing. When I'm 28, a beautiful brunette Irish girl will walk in and we will fall in love and she will help me run the shop, along with my slightly camp assistant who will work there for no money despite the fact I repeatedly tell him to leave. But I don't want him to really. When I'm 32 I'll receive a letter from the council to inform me they are knocking it down to make way for a Tesco that is so big it negates the need for any shops in the whole city. I die by wrecking ball when I refuse to move.

2. I will learn to score goals like Steve Bull and offer my services to Wolves for free (well, basic upkeep maybe). I will score hundreds of goals but be a tragic hero because whatever I do we'll never get promoted. I will reject a move to Aston Villa and Coventry because I am loyal. One day we will play Chelsea in the cup and I will end Frank Lampard's career with a double footed slide challenge to the head (he won't die). For good measure, in my interview with Jamie Redknapp at full time, as he asks me how it feels to have lost, I will accidentally tear his mouth off. People will be shocked initially but eventually break out into applause, which will grow to a roar. This will be my greatest career achievement (personal). At 32 I'll get killed by Louise Redknapp, but no-one will know because she'll be a wily old fox. No, actually a fox, as she will have mastered Transformagation. It will be a Midlands Tragedy.

3. You people will get famous and drag me with you. I will die at 32 for drinking too much rum.

4. Be Virender Sehwag. I will never die.

I had more points but I've forgotten them. If anyone has some money and wants to help me run my book shop that'd be swell.

Or find me a nice job.

You won't be surprised to know nothing has happened with any of the pretty girls. We had a party last night with (you guessed it) lots of rum and at one point I discussed at length with my flatmate how I really liked (well, she was pretty) this new pretty girl who was there and we decided I had nothing to lose and I should at least talk to her, and anyway while all this was happening she started dancing in such a way I was actually a little scared to look at her let alone talk to her.

Phew!