The Mighty Ding are on the move....

Downwards, to the Championship. Oh well. They're still my boys!!

Ka-ka-racking it

Oh my, what a lovely day it is, but I am stuck inside listening to the sick-to-the-stomach-show that is the mighty 'ding's fight to stave off relegation. At the mo, we're doing everything in our power (winning 2-0) to stay up, but we're totally reliant on Fulham NOT winning. Argggg. At the moment it's 0-0 so it's real nerve-wrangling stuff.

Onto other news, though: got dumped by Rocksalt, which is actually a bit of a blessed relief, as was having some mental difficulties coping with the 2-man situation! Plus, although Rocksalt treated me exceedingly well, I think it is fair to say we didn't share a whole lot in common.

Also, have successfully managed to book Cambridge Folk Festival tickets without about six hours of pressing redial - yeh! Which gives me - and Choc Chip, Romba, Schwesty, Troy, Mr and Mrs Pedro + others - a long weekend to look forward to, of Perry-drinking and great music.

Now it all hangs on the 'ding to make or break this day. It's now 3-0!! But that barely matters now. Come of Pompey!!! Come on Bulmershe boy Ashdown (in goal for Pompey)!!

FUCK YOU POMPEY!! FULHAM NOW WINNING. WE NOW NEED TO SCORE A MERE FOUR GOALS TO SURVIVE. I SHALL START MENTALLY PREPARING FOR THE CHAMPIONSHIP NOW.

Ahhhhh

Keeping Count

Oh and for anyone trying to keep count (you've probably actually drifted off to sleep at this point) - Rocksalt was date no. 1 (now four dates down the line), and MG man was date no. 4 (who, despite being petite of stature and having one of the worst jobs in the world, still managed to impress me), and there has been a date no. 5 also, who was a man who had EVERYTHING I could ever dream of, in terms of the lifestyle (life as a rich, part-time country wife beckoned....), but was an utter buffoon. It's actually quite fun, when I think about it, maybe I ought to cheer the fuck up!

May I apologise for the amount of swearing contained in these recent blogs. Poor show.

Bad Conscience

Oh it's been a bit of a loopy-loo week. Old pa 'Ding has been in and out of hospital, thankfully remaining in fairly good spirits (the view from his room is probably one of the best you'll get in London), and I have also been out and about. All the complications (good and bad) have left me feeling pretty tired, really, though not messed up at all.

Also am experiencing what can only be described as "romance" courtesy of Rocksalt (for I think he may deserve his own blog name now). Rocksalt has taken me out a few times now, paid for my dinner, said nice things about me, and even taken me to see a show on Monday as a surprise. It makes me realise that I have never experienced this old fashioned kind of stuff before (the type of men I've been out with in the past have fallen mainly into two categories: has money but isn't nice; is nice but hasn't any money) and I'm finding it a weird, almost guilty experience. Shaggy and Clam have been trying to counsel me with their "enjoy it while you can" attitude. To be fair, they've not got the best track record when it comes to romance, but I see where they're coming from. It's true, that the way that I met Rocksalt not being very traditional, means I have no idea what attitude he is taking to all this. I almost certainly am not the "only one"...

Which brings me onto another conundrum. Rocksalt is not currently my "only one". A quieter, far more unassuming, fellow took me for a drive and sunday lunch, at the weekend, in his convertible classic sports car (ha ha ha), which was a frighteningly "authentic" motoring experience..... in between trying to remain ladylike with hair and skirt blowing in a hurricane on the north-circular (beautiful scenery ahem), choking on the hot petrol fumes emanating from the overheating engine, and desperately attempting (and failing) to stifle my laughs every time we got stuck at a traffic light, and the poor red slightly rusty MG, shuddered into a badly timed stall, I had a rather superb time. Now, having never been this popular before, and not wanting to count my chickens before they're hatched, I have no idea WHAT THE FUCK TO DO!! Shaggy and Clam are all "take advantage". But I'm all feeling guilty, like I should make a choice. I am not, after all, in an episode of Sex and the City, so this does not feel like correct behaviour to me. And yet what the fuck is internet dating for, but for such stupidity??

Wait ages for one bus to come along and then....... I will probably fall into the road and get run down by three in a row. Grrrreaaatt.