Hello 2009!

I am a bad blogger. It's been weeks, nay months since last you heard from me. I apologise profusely and declare that my New Year's resolution shall be to be less of neglectful of my little piece of the internetty-webby-world.

A year ago I made a few predictions. Let's see how I fared shall we?

Well I think we can all safely agree that Leona Lewis did indeed conquer the US charts in 2008. Both Bleeding Love and her debut album Spirit went to No 1. Points to me. And her obviously.

Andy Murray went one better than I predicted. I said he'd be in a Grand Slam semi-final. He got to the final of the US Open. He may have run out of puff when he came up against Federer in that match but Murray's got to be a pretty good bet for a full on Grand Slam title this year.

Team GBs Olympic golds came from sailing, cycling and... ok, not equestrianism, but two out of three ain't bad. I can safely admit that I never would have predicted the eventual swimming success though.

No new leader for the Lib Dems. Maybe this year? When I say Vince, you say Cable! VINCE! "CABLE!"

Re: the popularity of the TV channel Dave. Strangely enough I don't have easy access to recent audience share figures. Even more strangely, I don't intend to spend hours trawling the net to find such statistics for you. Can you survive? I do hope so.

Sadly my predictions seem to be getting a little less accurate as we go along. Indiana Jones and The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull came in 2nd in the global box office stakes, over $200 million behind The Dark Knight. I'm pleased I was wrong in backing the well-hatted one. The Dark Knight is a fantastic piece of film-making. Indy was fun but flawed.

And so we come to my final prediction. 12 months ago I was convinced that "both David Tennant and Jonny Wilkinson will become single, fall in love with your favourite blogger (that's me, right?) and fight some sort of contest (the format of which has yet to be decided) in order to win her affections."

Ho hum. Maybe next year?

Danny who?

Let the sunshine in

Finally! The sun is back - for the moment at least. I'm making the most of its most likely short lived stay by tapping this out in the back garden. The sun is shining, my bones are warming and I can barely read the screen due to the brightness of the aforementioned star.

There's no question that I feel better during the warmer months. Who knows why, but the warmer it is, the less pain I get. There is a bit of a trade-off involved - the heat is good for my aches but does tire me out fairly quickly. Still, I shall not moan for we have seen too little in the way of solar rays this June and July. Roll on August I say!

A mere 24 days to go now until the Olympics! Tell me, why have I arranged to be away with a group of 14-18 year olds for 10 precious days of the competition? Well it's a combination of stupidity and zeal for the gospel. If anyone asks, I will be focusing on the latter! Whatever events I do manage to catch, I hope that they don't involve Dwain Chambers. Chambers finds out on Thursday if his High Court case against the British Olympic Association's lifetime Olympic ban has been successful. I'm with the BOA on this one. He cheated. He admits he cheated. If he says sorry then I hope that the majority of people will forgive him. However, forgiving someone and allowing them to compete in an event that they have brought into disrepute are two very different things. In my mind, if you take illegal performance enhancing drugs then you forfeit the right to continue on in that sport, no matter how sorry you are. Chambers knew the rules and yet still broke them. He was in no way ignorant of the BOA's stance on drug cheats. He shouldn't be going to Beijing. Ironically this is quite the metaphorical storm in a tea cup. Chambers has as much chance of getting a medal next month as I do of marrying Jonny Wilkinson. Actually, he probably has less chance - my charms are not inconsiderable!

Mamma mia, here I go again.

It's only a matter of time before I turn into my mother. I'm resigned to this fact. Already people are unable to distinguish between us on the phone; worryingly, even my dad can't tell us apart when he calls. My sister doesn't have this problem. She sounds different, looks different... sigh. I've got the same face, voice, temperament. Usually I am able to forget this fact. I can look to the future without seeing myself as my mother. Not at the moment though; my Nana is visiting. My Nana is my mum's mum and the similarities between them just serve to highlight the characteristics shared by me and my mum. I can imagine it must be quite scary for my dad to have three generations of women under the same roof at one time.

Thankfully it hasn't quite got to the point where I am indistinguishable from my Nana, but surely it is only a matter of time. I can only console myself with the fact that I'll always be taller! It's fascinating to look at other people and the traits and features that they've inherited from their parents and grandparents. But when you turn the tables and start looking at yourself it becomes less fascinating and more horrifying! I can't imagine what it must be like to not know your parents, either through tragic circumstances, family break-ups or perhaps because of adoption. I see so much of myself in my parents (whether I want to or not). Granted, it's likely that I see more because of the unusually large amount of time that I spend in their company. Most 23 year-olds would have lived away from home by now and even if they were still at home, I doubt they would see as much of their parents as I do. They drive me round the bend at times (I'm sure that also applies to the other way round!) but it's cool to know where I came from; where some of my weirder character traits emanate from. But on the flip side it's also nice to know which parts are 100% me!

P.S. So Brian Ashton has dropped dear Jonny from his starting XV on Saturday. Rubbish. He played badly, but no worse than the rest of the team. If Ashton's going to drop Jonny then he should drop every other player that was on that pitch last weekend. Bah.

The week that will be

I've had one of those weeks that quite frankly I'm glad to see the back of. Various problems and stressful situations have marked it down as one to forget and so I'm more than happy to move on into the 'bound-to-be-much-better' week commencing Monday 18th February. Optimistic as I am, I see it going something like this:

Monday - write blog. Hear a knock at the door. It's the postman. Junk mail, junk mail, junk mail, ah an interesting letter. Dear Giraffe-a-licious... love your blog... blah blah blah... like to invite you to Buckingham Palace for a cup of tea... do say you'll come... love Liz.

Tuesday - spend a couple of hours in morning volunteering for Alzheimer's Society. Head home. Someone flags me down to asks for directions. It's David Tennant. So grateful for my help that he invites me to appear as his assistant in the next series of Doctor Who.

Wednesday - go for meal with friends in the evening. Waiter brings me wrong order. By way of an apology I can have my food for free. Plus, would madam like a Pina Colada on the house? Why yes, madam would.

Thursday - a nice restful day spoilt only by David Tennant's incessant phone calls.

Friday - Wake up and am miraculously cured of M.E. Hop on a plane to some far flung, exotic destination in celebration of miracle. Or see if I can nab some tickets to England v France. That's got the Jonny Wilkinson factor. Hmmmm.... decisions, decisions...