British Summer = Cricket + Rain

We went to Lords on Tuesday to watch a 20 20 match with Middlesex vs Surrey. As a non-cricket watcher, I really only go for 3 things:

1. Lounging in the hot summer sun, drinking beer/wine/champagne
   
2. Picnic food
   
3. The party atmosphere
   

However, thanks to the stupid, crappy, flood enducing, cold, wet, horrid english 'summer' (and I use 'summer' in the loosest possible terms), we've spent the last month with barely any summer sun, and NO chance of floaty dresses, strappy tops, sandals/thongs (aka FLIP FLOPS if you're giggling to yourself).

Instead of hot summer cricket at Lords we were subjected to this:


with somtimes TEASING sun like:



I WANT THE CANCER INDUCING SUN BACK! I am CRAVING the possiblity of getting sunburnt. I am vitamin D deficient!!! On top of that, I keep listening to the soundtrack to the Ex-Flatmate's and my holiday to St Maarten last year, all the songs from Radio Calypso that they kept playing whilst we were hooning around going from sundrenched beach to sundrenched beach, and this has made me even more desperate for some hot weather, so much so that I am seriously thinking of going on a holiday, even if no one wants to come with me! So this is a shout out, an open invitation, a plea to the universe: if YOU are thinking of going somewhere where we can take our pasty bodies out on a beach, in swimsuits that no one wants to see us in, drink cocktails with little umbrellas in them, and eat bbq's every day, let me know, because I am sick of this crappy weather:

Friday Moment of Zen: I don't like cricket

Oh no. Now, thanks to our true blue Aussie boys in green and gold, I LOVE IT!

We annihilated the English cricket team! We creamed them! No, cream isn't the right colour... It's paler than that... We WHITEWASHED THEM! That's right. We won the Ashes series 5-0, a feat that hasn't occurred since the 1920-21 series.

If you think I'm being a bad winner, that's not completely true. Being an Aussie girl in London, who is proud of her nation, I've had to endure the constant ribbing and name calling from my English friends for the last 18 months. And now sweet, sweet retribution has come baby! I've come into work wearing my Aussie football shirt, and my Aussie beanie. The green and gold my friend.

Whilst a more gratious person would politely and modestly praise her team, and honour the fight of the losing side, I am many things, neither of which is gracious or polite. So I say BOO-YA to the English team, and especially Andrew Flintoff, who I've hated since the last Ashes series due to his crowing and arrogance. Who's laughing now eh Freddie? Not you.

So your Friday moment of zen: You might not find this so zen like if you're English, but as an Aussie, this is sweet.

What a catch! What a catch!

"Crash". "Defeat". "Losers".

These are all words used for the Aussie's win over those pommy bastards in the second test of the Ashes! And I don't care if I am English soon. I'll always be true blue!

Ok, enough of bragging. AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE! OI! OI! OI!