Where are you baby?

Sod’s law. On Monday I was on call. On Monday was the Snook final. Guess when I got called out? 6pm til 3am, neatly and unequivocally missing the crucial frames 25-35 on TV 8pm til ~10pm. I say crucial, Ronnie was apparently 100-1 to win (i.e. you bet £100, you win £1) so the result is unlikely to surprise me. That said, I’m still in the dark (one of the benefits of a) only have 2 TV channels and b) Snook being a sport that only appeals to the most elite of minds). Watching a recording is not quite the same, though I will attempt it. So no one tell me the result, or I’ll get all Essex on your bottom, init.

The Snook has had the interesting side effect that I just purchased Betty Boo “Where are you baby?” which has featured on the coverage every now and then. Circa 1991, pure pop crap for 70% of the time, quality chorus. 79p well spent. Though for the life of me I can’t work out how to get the bloody song onto iPod without wiping the rest of the iPod (the trials of having two computers). *reads the Help files* Oh – that’s how you do it. Right-oh.

Had an interview today for a PhD – I think it went ok, I would really like this PhD – it fits my interests like a glove. Though if I do get it I have to tell my boss I’m not applying for another job. That’ll be fun.

I think fate has it in for me meeting the Desserter. She’s down this Wednesday. Where am I? In Brentwood, having a bridesmaid dress fitted. What are the odds (well, one in 4 this week). Meh.