Solly as a Rock!!

Hollanda infeliz tudo sobre… *snif*

Portugal: congratulations… *snif*

Whenever I do my laundry, I pair up my socks first before I throw them in the machine. Just in case. Not just to check if my Love has used the ‘official’ laundry basket this time for all his dirty clothes – underneath the bed or in the back of the closet are favorite locations for stray socks… – But also, because I want to be absolutely sure of the fact that I did in fact chuck two socks-of-one-kind in there. ‘Cause sometimes, only one sock comes out. His (or her) partner is nowhere to be found. It’s gone, absolutely gone.

This morning it happened again, only a month after the last unsolved disappearance, 5 months since the one before that one. I disassembled the machine as much as possible, but found no trace of the missing sock. Nor any evidence of a crime: not a piece of the fabric, not a thread. I am one hundred percent sure that I started out with a pair.

This gives rise to suspicions: does the washing-machine want a payment for its work? Is this the industrial answer to the virgin-offers to volcanoes? Is my favorite home appliance in fact nothing more than a serial killer?! And when will it strike again? Should I wash my socks by hand now?

I have paired up the widowed socks with each other, but I can feel their pain, their distress. They have permanent trauma, they envy the happy couples. Does anyone know a therapist for them, a conversation group?

No talk about football, today I am gonna share a secret with you. It’s very personal and kinda embarrassing, so don’t tell others about this. I have an addiction. It’s not big or injuring my health but it IS an addiction. And the worst thing is: I don’t want to quit it!

Though I have a masters-degree and a shelf filled with literature, I really need a Harlequin book every now and again. I love to immerse myself in historic romance: knights and ladies, witches and lords, captains at sea and female stowaways… *sighs*… Depending on my mood and presence of my Love, it can be one Johanna Lindsey per month or a daily dose of Kathleen Woodiwiss… Am I the only one or do others share this “problem”?

A Monday that feels like a Sunday… See here why!

In the South of the Netherlands AND nothing to do today? Visit Breda Barst!

I do have to admit, that I did not believe it – victory – at the start of the shoot-out series. The EURO ’92 semi-final against Denmark; the EURO ’96 quarter-final against France; the 1998 FIFA World Cup semi-final against Brazil; the UEFA EURO 2000 semi-final against Italy; all were lost by the Dutch in penalty contests…

I did not watch the first penalties. My face was hidden behind my hands, my friends backs. I could hear the reactions of the crowd: the cheering, the “no!” at Cocu’s miss. Finally I peaked. I saw how Larsson missed his one. I felt the tension of the supporters, saw the crossed fingers, heard the quick-prayers…And then: Robben scored!!! Cheering, hugging, kissing.

Oranje finally laid to rest their spot-kick hoodoo! Chased away the penalty-ghost! Semi-finals next, Portugal: beware!

“If you ever find yourself in a tender embrace with the toilet bowl, curse your drinking pal…Or your cook”

Thinking about a career switch?

Thinking about starting your own company?

Ever considered becoming a plumber?

…England was robbed from winning goal!

…David Beckham must never go near a penalty again after yet another miss!

…The England captain’s penalty flies into orbit!

Missed it – the match I mean? Read the (slightly English coloured) match report here.

love (luv) n. 1 A strong complex emotion or feeling, causing one to appreciate, delight in, and crave the presence or possession of another and to please or promote the welfare of the other; devoted affection or attachment. 2 Specifically, such feeling between husband and wife or lover and sweetheart. 3 One who is beloved: a sweetheart. 4 Sexual passion, or the gratification of it.