Dress rehearsal

There we were last night, playing Liverpool - I thought the boys did well and I've never been more confident we can beat them. Go figure:

Bolton league match lost - FA cup match won
Boro league match lost - FA cup match won

Liverpool league match lost - you do the maths... Even if we don't, who fucking cares, this season was a blinder. Loving it!

17 days to the final

Not quite sure what lenghths I'll have to go to get tickets for this one. As I had my semi tix offered by someone who hasn't got one for the final, I feel obliged to do what I can.

So I'll go and see my old mate Stu who's promised me he'd be able to get a couple (is it cheeky thinking of 6?) in the West Ham end.

At least, this way I'll get them face value and off the market where they'd almost certainly end up being touted for the big money. And I could get them back where they belong, in the hands of real supporters. Stu knows that, he owes me a favour or seven, and the fact he might get lucky with me should be incentive enough.

I'll keep you posted.

Monday's the new black

Now that's exciting - had my first proper football training on Monday, and it was brilliant! Although I realised just how fit I am - not. Vowed to go running twice a week. But apart from that, was very pleased with myself! Roll on Monday nights!

Next stop: Cardiff!

The night before the day after I just couldn't sleep. Cleaned the bathroom until 11pm. Watched MotD. Then ironing until 1am. Still couldn't sleep. Watched the Football Factory on voiceover until 3am. Still couldn't sleep. Some more rubbish TV. Tea. Hot milk. Last time I checked the time it was 4am - and then I got woken up, alarm clock was set to 5.30am.

The day itself, what can I say. I was there. I soaked it all up and it's something I'll tell my grandkids about. That day we won the semi at Villa Park.

I thought I could say more about it by now, but I don't have any words for it. Precious memories, not that I don't want to share them, but - it's nothing I can describe. I'm a very, very lucky girl, mind you, lots of people wanted to go but couldn't - and then there's me, getting a ticket offered, meeting a lot of good people. I know I'm lucky and I'm very grateful for this. Thanks everyone.

(end of sob story!)

Result!

Read my horoscope in the Sun yesterday (don't ask), can't remember much but this bit: "... luck will text at 9pm".

It was a phone call at twenty to. "You're sitting?". "Comfortably?". "I got you a ticket for the semi".

F*cking result! It was only yesterday when I mentioned to someone that I still had this feeling of getting lucky - there we go. 'appy girl, all the way.

MIL stands for MUPPET

Oh Mikey... my flatmate from hell - male, English, 28-ish, straight and all, but just not that into football.

AC Milan playing FC Barcelona last night, we're 10 minutes into the game, I'm vegged out on the sofa watching when he walks in, looks at the telly and says:

"Millwall playing who?"

Mind you, that ain't a joke!

Cor! Blimey!

We're in Hollywood!

My best friend V called yesterday - I knew she met this fella a couple of months ago and all, but they've hit it off now. Talking about engagement and all - I'm chuffed!

So she's says he's the one, fair play to her and I wish her all the best, honestly. Will try to keep the sarcasm down and at the same time not to listen to the little girl thinking of the "happily-ever-after". Hoping the two will prove me wrong.

Egged out

Morning everyone, sorry to keep you waiting... This wonderful weekend has seen two matches, a lovely day full of sunshine and an Easter Sunday working.

I merely survived a boring Friday with shopping and coffee break near Canada Water. Sitting outside in the sun, there was this cutie passing by beaming at me. Gave him a huge smile back - not because I liked him, but because he was wearing a Millwall beanie. Yes babes, I was laughing at you, not with you... looks like you'll be playing Orient next season.

Saturday off for a couple (ok, too many) of pre-match drinks at the Boleyn - then off to the Wakefield to meet and greet some fellow KUMBers. By the time I got to the match, I saw two Deanos on the pitch. Not nice. Note to self: do the drinking after the match. Ended up somewhere in Forest Gate, had a good time, got home safe - all good.

Sunday (again) at work for a couple of hours - Monday another match day, me trotting off to the Hammer's down the road. Starting off really well with a diet coke and ending up at the Swan with some too many. Feeling bit rough now.

Thinking of C coming over this weekend, something that will help me pull through for another couple of days.

What's your price tag?

Been trying to blag a tix for the semi final at Villa Park on Sunday in a week, but it really doesn't look like I'll make it, dammit. I'm actually that desperate it's made me realise I do have a price tag:

One of my mates is looking for two because I said he could have another go (we shagged before) if he got me in there.

Then I said I'd sit in the Boro end playing cool, because my client knows a die-hard s/t holder who might be able to take me in.

And last but not least, trying to be nice and keeping my eyes and ears open just in case there's something coming up, for a blow job or two me thinks.

Everything's got a price... Indecent proposal, anyone?

... never went to church

... Tunes in my ears, tears in my eyes - and still, a big huge smile, because I still got my dad and everyone around me, consider myself lucky then.

This tune is just pure, simple, and honest. Loving it.

Tunes in my ears

Listening to the new streets album - the hardest way to make an easy living. Vaguely remember reading something about it in Sunday's Observer - ".... he's in a dark place". Second that.

Probably nowhere near OPM but then again, we all change - and I'm pretty sure it will grow on me the more often I listen to it.

Hats off to Mike Skinner.

Sleb spot!

What can I say... Hanging in a comfy sofa at my local, and then he walks in, in all his glory *grin* Fuck me, shit hot - nothing more to add. Thanks, dear God, seeing my team losing against Chelsea doesn't hurt as much when you have Danny Dyer sitting next you shouting "fuck off" at the big screen...

This number ain't dial-a-shag, love!

Saturday, 8 April 2008, 11pm

T: "fancy coming round"
me: "out in town"
T: "ok"

about 5 mins later...

T: "U can still come round"
me: "I'm in brixton babe doubt I'll make it back east tonight - I will let you know"
T: "Make your excuses and leave. It will be worth it. I promise"
me: "can't, next time"

then, Andrea gave me a much needed kicking.

me: "so you're just after a shag, if so you maybe better get it somewhere else"
T: "Don't be like that"
me: "like what?"
T: "Being funny, I'm almost home so do y fancy popping round. Get a cab and i will pay half"
me: "forget it"

Makes me feel... half proud, half pissed off, and at the end of the day it's been my fault entirely, having a big mouth and all. FO.

I'll get my coat!

Well then, that was... My ass. Boro 3-0 down on aggregate and then winning the game - can somebody explain? Anyway, it was nailbiting, and either way I'm happy with Boro winning as they'll probably go easy on us in the FA cup.

Current state of mind

Not really happy here I guess - but then again, I wasn't happy anywhere else either. Sod it.

... in confidence...

Every now and then people sitting next to me fiddle around with their blackberries - those clever little gadgets giving you access to your company email, for example...

Remember the days at school when you had to add cheating to your skill sets - how to read your neighbours tests without moving your head. Well, I can still do it, beware everyone.

Nevertheless companies should be well aware of this. Especially one company, who's employee Steve ****** used his blackberry to email his mate about Lin *****. Allegedly she's confessed in confidence that she's squelled £1.6m in a ****** business meeting........that's where the train arrived in Canning Town and I left the carriage.

Stupid fuckers. Want me to post the company name and all your last names as well?

Singing...

... oh, we're very talented, aren't we!

Arno's video capture of Sunday's pre-match singing at the Boleyn, sounds funny as fuck... Still fighting with the dimension, so here's "bubbles" first.

Speaking of bubbles, yeah love that stuff - that's what I call a nice fry up, sod the beans!

April, issit!?

Holy moly, it's April. Had Arno & Clemens on visit (a day late but hey... f*cking frogs, how dare they going on strike!) and had a great time! Saturday we missed out on clubbing, for the sake of spare ribs and pulled pork - but Sunday saw us back on track with a nice breakfast at Ken's Cafe, early afternoon warm-up pints and then some (very dire) Sunday 4pm football.

The real surprise got me when we eventually walked back to my local. The landlord isn't really into party and all, I think the most exciting music he'd ever put on in his pub must be Elvis or anything else you can hear in lifts and shopping centres for elderly...

But then - big surprise. There's a live thingy going on (which was supposed to be just as dire) and suddenly (was it the beer? the brandy? someone spiked the drinks?) the whole bleeding pub was on their feet dancing away. Bloody 'ell, it was unreal.

Don't get me wrong - good fun and all, but this was my lovely sweet East London haven to watch football, drink a pint or seven and have a decent pub grub. AND I WANT IT BACK!