If I gave titles to my blog entries, this entry would be called, ‘The Lost Evening’. I have often considered adding titles, but knowing how difficult it is for my friends, such as Sippy and Nazma to think up titles, I have always given it a miss. Particularly as I would want to add a twist to proceedings and never use the same title twice. Some ask. I had been watching Eastenders in the lounge with my family, when I noticed the ability to focus drop. A headache was on the cards, I could feel it in my bones. At 8pm, I headed back to my room and tried to get on with something, but just could not concentrate, even fighting the on coming pain. Just after 8.30pm, it was no use, I had to rest, I had to get some sleep. I went into the living room to disconnect the wireless broadband router and tell them I was retiring for the night. My Mum said she would wake me up with a cup of tea, later in the evening. I put on Five Live and jumped into bed and slowly drifted to sleep, hearing that Reading were two nil down to West Brom. My Mum came in at 10.30pm to wake me, with that cup of tea she promised but it was wasted. I would never get out of bed. Instead after being awake for a while, and listening to the radio drone with news and idle chitchat, I feel back to sleep, only to wake up again just before midnight and become extremely restless. I was awake for what seemed like hours and eventually got back to sleep sometime in the early hours. Yet I woke up this morning, feeling quite tired and not fresh as I had intended. Note to self, never ever take an early night and be in bed before 9pm.

While we were watching the full ninety minutes from Football First – Game Of The Day (the seven goal thriller against Boro) my Mum asked why I wanted to go to yet another Arsenal game at Highbury (I’ve already been to three games so far this season, plus the Community Shield). Rarely do I go into explaining my beloved sport to my Mum. It never really goes beyond indicating the colour strip my team are wearing and the score. Well it is never really the score. It’s usually, winning, losing or drawing. Although the word for draw in Hindi is quite elaborate and perhaps more entertaining than the translations of win and lose. Arsenal have been at Highbury for 93 years. My Mum thought I was giving the year and then in a rather unimpressed tone, said that is only twelve years (the same age as my youngest sister). No Mum, since 1913. Then she was shocked, even more shocked them from October, when I had explained that Number 14 (no, giving the players names would be too difficult, only Shearer from Euro’96 is the name player within my household of non-football fans) had scored 186 goals for the club! Talking of Mr. Henry, don’t you just want to download this and watch it again and again. Indeed, it is finally show time!

In my opinion, if it counts for anything, is that everyone should have a blog (of some description). Just like everyone deserves their fifteen minutes of fame. Afterall everyone has an opinion on something (if not everything) and the blog is the ideal spring board to broadcast your views to the world. If Gorgeous George can get away with harsh racial views on prime time television, than we all should have the opportunity to respond and debate what is said. The other night, I feel asleep and wondered (in a strange way) how my life would be different if I did not blog. It takes up a big chunk of my time, but I feel there is nothing worthwhile to fill the void that would be created if I did hang up my keyboard. I would also miss out on the small but loyal community of friends and readers I have gained over the past four years. Yes, by the time the World Cup comes around in June, this blog will have been going strong for four years. Amazing that my enthusiasm has never diminished in that time, if anything it has grown over the course of those years.