I had a fairly uneventful train journey home on Wednesday night. Although there was a cute guy sitting across the aisle from me, which made it difficult to relax because I was scared of falling asleep and drooling all over myself! Actually he probably wasn't that cute, but he was Scottish and after four years in London, I'm a sucker for a Scottish accent now. Actually no, he was that cute.
Thursday was my dad's birthday. The big 63. OK, so not exactly a landmark, but still. He had a very chilled out day, sunbathing in the garden in the morning and going out for a late lunch/early dinner in the afternoon, with various visitors throughout the day. It was a nice day.
I can't remember what I did during the day on Friday (my memory sucks!), but I remember that my sister brought Kieran and Lewis round in the afternoon and Kieran threw up all over my dad. Poor baby, he was in pretty bad shape for a while. But he went to bed for a couple of hours and woke up feeling absolutely fine. My sister was supposed to be going to a wedding that night, with us babysitting, but she wasn't going to go when Kieran fell ill. However, he was so much better after a sleep, that we managed to talk her into going. She phoned several times throughout the night to check up on him, but he was fine. In fact, he was more than fine. Both he and Lewis were in high spirits and an absolute joy to babysit (bit of a change from the last time!). I had so much fun.
I went through to Glasgow on Saturday to catch up with some friends from my uni course. We went to Wagamama's for lunch, which was a strange experience because it's a place that I strongly associate with London. I often go there for dinner before heading off to the cinema or the theatre and, until recently, thought it was a chain limited to London. But it was good, as always, and it was really nice to catch up with my friends. I usually only have time to go through to Glasgow once when I'm home, and tend to always meet up with the same friends and neglect others for many months. That's why I didn't mention I was coming through Sharon. It's been about eight or nine months since I've seen those guys and I was feeling really guilty, especially since I blew one of them off recently when she was in London.
Sunday was a day I've been looking forward to for months. The Wimbledon men's singles final and the World Cup final in one day! How awesome. I even changed my train and took an extra days holiday when I realised I made the grave mistake of booking my train to clash with the World Cup! And how utterly predictable that I woke up on Sunday feeling terrible. I got dressed for mass long enough to realise that there was no way I was leaving the house that day, got back into my pyjamas, crawled into bed and stayed there for the rest of the day. I did watch the games, but fell asleep during them a couple of times.
Tennis - I got my dream final between Nadal and Federer. After the first set where Federer crushed Nadal 6-0, I thought my hopes of a close final were misguided, but no! Nadal came through in the end. It wasn't as close as I would have liked (I would have liked to see it go to five sets), but I think he challenged Federer more than anyone else could have. He never really had a shot at winning, but I think it could defintely be a different name on that trophy in a year or two. I do like Federer and was happy for him when he won, but it gets boring when that same person wins over and over again.
Football - What can I say? I'm gutted. I really wanted France to win and think they deserved it. I thought they were the better team and were attacking more. Italy seemed to be playing a much more defensive game, which isn't a game of champions. And to lose in penalties! How horrible! And Zidane. Oh wow. This was actually one of points in the game I fell asleep. I drifted off somewhere in the middle of the first half of ET and woke up to the commentators saying that Zidane had shamed himself. Luckily, it was replayed right away and I couldn't believe it. More than anything, I feel so sad for Zidane. He's a great player and has had a fantastic World Cup, but his career is always going to be defined by this one act in his last ever game. It was completely out of order and he totally deserved to be sent off, but I hope the Italian player deserved what he got. I'd hate to think that Zidane brought that kind of shame on himself over something really small. It just makes me really sad.
Then another uneventful train journey back to London. I was sat at a table with three lovely pensioners, and it amused me to watch them eat their packed lunch from empty margarine tubs. It reminded me of my gran. There was also another cute boy, but only for a short portion of the journey, so I took full advantage of drooling over myself when he was gone. ;)