Causing Trouble

9^th Feb – Causing Trouble

It would seem that I am in trouble. I have escaped serious injury after being vaulted from my bicycle at high speeds. I have survived pollution that appeared mutant-cloud like, creeping through the towers on my compound one lazy Sunday afternoon; I have resisted the urge to give up and fall to the floor (Austin stylie) when I was stranded in the rain, lost, alone when no blasted taxi would pick me up. I have eaten street food, brushed my teeth with the tap water – gums of steel, me – and bought vegetables from the street market rather than ordering them from the pretty, hygienic and easy websites available (inflated prices being a rather good stimulus for such a decision).
Yet I now find myself, on the edge of danger. I am in a situation which needs the most delicate of handling for it may cause irreparable damage politically and potentially physically (depending on how dedicated I become). Here goes: I joined the Rugby 6 Nations Fantasy League whilst drunk on Friday and after encouragement from others but I am now loathed, despised, growled at due to the fact that I’M TOP OF THE LEAGUE! Ah, haha! Would you believe it? I quite understand that a naïve usurper of pole position is a usurper all the same and would therefore happily retire from the competition to ensure that someone who does rather enjoy watching the odd game but has little or no idea about the intricacies does not claim victory over die hard rugby fans, who spend hours picking teams, pouring over statistics and watching match reruns – I do not wish to cause trouble, offence or the unnecessary self-flagellation of those not quite up to building teams as successful as mine clearly is.

But. Then. I think to myself: hang on just a minute, lady. Why not keep the boys on their toes? Let them sneer. Let them growl. Let them gaze through the green misted eyes of sporting competition envy. I am the only girl in the competition. I took an opportunity to ‘join in’; I’m new and should be making friends. Granted, I know bugger all to do with rugby other than the fact that a good friend used to play in that position where they run really fast down the flanks and my friends Holly, Scouse and Sam love it more than chips but right now I feel like going and blinkin’ well learning about it just so I can win in style. Ooh, what to do? What to do?

P.s. the weekend was marvellous. I spent a solitary Saturday afternoon watching movies and eating pizza then had a splendid Sunday afternoon having lunch with my new friend, warming ourselves with a medicinal mulled wine before exploring and having our nails done. Sunday evening, I watched a couple of Extras episodes, ‘Willy Wonka? Johnny W*nker.’ actually making me laugh so much I nearly choked on a cashew nut, before an early night and swim this morning. Today is the dreaded fashion show. God.
Please bear in mind, also, that in certain information above, I have exaggerated slightly – I do buy my Kale from the lovely website (who wouldn’t when those curly leaves can hide a whole world of mischief from the naked eye!).