June 10th

Over the last couple of years we’ve had so many family and friend related events to go to that this year Beth & I have decided to take more weekends to ourselves. It’s been tricky having to turn down things that ordinarily we would’ve done (sometimes more from a sense of duty than a desire to attend) and we’ve had to be pretty ruthless with our time and this weekend was to be our first ‘Beth & Ben’ weekend.
After last night we had a bit of a late start (I’m not sure I’ll be able to cope with these new late licensing laws) and spent a good hour or two sagging about in bed eventually hauling our carcasses out for a great fruit salad & one of my legendary smoothies. None of this mattered however as today was the start of England’s foray into the World Cup and we had ourselves a plan. I needed some new Birkenstocks after my old ones finally gave up the ghost in S.E. Asia but only a fool or a hero would attempt to shop in the centre of Brighton on an ordinary Saturday, but today would be different. One of the benefits of not being a footie fan is that you’re guaranteed (during the World Cup at least) a bit of relative public peace for two hours every so often and it’s this that we took advantage of. It was so quiet in town it was almost frightening, I don’t think I’ve ever seen it so calm.
Birkies bought Beth & I took the Saturday papers to the square where we got just under 15 minutes of peace until the football finished (apparently we won against a made up country) and groups of inebriated blokes descended upon us armed with footballs. They all bounced their balls a bit, did a few keepie-upies and made a determined effort to look all serious and footbally before deciding that an actual game probably wasn’t what they wanted afterall and that they’d rather settle down on the benches and shout at each. I know it sounds hideously pompous and self-righteous but I do get a bit angry the way the square fills with lads getting pished and burning the grass with their disposable barbeques. You end up running the gauntlet of Frisbees, footballs and cricket matches trying to find a space. I almost want it to be a London style private square for the residents. The down side of this would be that we wouldn’t be allowed to go there, not being residents an’ all.
Our good friends Sophie & Simon are though and Simon popped down on his way back from Lemmington to show off his recently repaired and re-sprayed TR6. He clearly loves this car and it’s easy to see why, it’s a beauty. It makes me wish I still had my TR 2000. I miss that car. We popped down to the Meeting Place café on the seafront and had some pop whilst Simon had a cheeky lasagne & chips, we were only gone 20 minutes but in that time some fuckers had walked over Simon’s car. On our way back we past the car and saw footprints on the boot. Another couple of residents who had also noticed them told us that their car suffered a similar indignity recently. Why for God’s sake? Why do shitty people do shitty things like this? People wonder why as a Brighton resident I sometimes get annoyed with pissed up tourists and the local yute and it’s things like this that do it. There were so many ‘kids’ in the square getting lagered and making a nuisance of themselves that it’s massively difficult not to revert to ‘angry from Hove’ mode and instinctively blame them or ‘kids’ in general. I can’t figure out why people have no respect, no respect for others or for themselves. Nyarrr! Rant over.
That night Beth & I turned down Es & Neil’s offer of Pimms and opted for a dvd and an early night.

Tea drunk: 3
Birkies bought and then discovered were too small: 2 (one per foot)
World Cup matches missed: 1 (but hey, I got to spend time with my lady)