Back from the Dark Side...

otherwise known as 'crap Bank Holiday Weekend'.

Manchester United did their best to send me grey and demented since the last entry, and nearly succeeded. Hull and Doncaster both did me proud, as did Queen of the South. Yes, I know they didn't win, but the pundit said that no-one recovers from 2-0 down to Rangers. Maybe he forgot that they can't hear the commentary from the pitch. For Stockport vs Rochdale, I couldn't choose, so I cheered them both (and fell asleep before the tv highlights so I don't know what I was cheering for).

On Saturday, Tig continued his raid on my bank account (booster jabs for him and the Yorkshire Terrier-ist) with Eric and Jasmine due next week. I faced with the choice of going to see the MNG finest strutting their stuff or being sensible and saving cash. I faced fighting through the crowds for Ricky Hatton and The Osmonds on the way and a huge taxi bill to get home. Btw, it was separate venues for Hatton and the Osmonds, fortunately as rumour has it that Marie Osmond was hankering after a shot at the title. It sounded great, but the red on the online banking wasn't so great. So I stayed in.

Then wrecked the sensible facade by necking a bottle of red wine and watching Eurovision.

All I can really remember is that one act appeared to have four women dressed as crinoline-lady-toilet-roll covers, with Helena Bonham-Carter's more weirdly dressed kid sister and the Child Catcher's creepy kid brother on vocals. A few rawk types waded in, some prat was dressed as an angel and Andy Abrahams will probably be in therapy for years. I can't really feel sorry for Wogan, bearing in mind the size of his fee. But Dustin the Turkey should feel as aggrieved as only a puppet can; I expect he was just a bit too classy.

In some respects, it was a good weekend. James, Angie and Tyler headed to Cornwall to see Angie's dad. I discovered the joys of tidying up, and found space, really real space in the boxroom and the shed! Finally I started a book that Sophie sent months back and I had been saving for a reading binge. And I could've watched live bands in a force 8 gale in Manchester city centre, but I chose a good book instead. The MiNGe should be proud.

I also found Bailey in front of the telly, listening to Julie Andrews as they repeated 'The Sound of Music' again. Oh dearydear...