Argh. England are out of the World Cup having lost 2-1 to Brazil in the quarter-finals. I actually missed the last ten minutes because my nervous tummy had driven me to the toilet, but that was probably for the best. (Oh no, am I turning into Mark, discussing my bowels?) The whole country seems subdued this afternoon. I shall not be downhearted, however, but will throw my full support behind the mighty... South Korea.

Sophie and Nicola came round last night to give me my birthday/housewarming present - a washing hamper. And this morning I bought a kitchen bin. Run from the domesticity, run like the wind!

12:47

. . .

It was my birthday yesterday. Didn't post anything here because I was too busy being showered in gifts, booze and general adoration. Yeah. I suppose I am now in my Mid-Twenties, which I always used to picture as dynamic and careerist years. Oh dear. Also, with every passing year I am further and further away from being a child prodigy - anything I acheive as a writer now will not have that extra impressive quality it might have had when I was 17, I realise with sinking heart.

13:42

. . .

I think my (old) flat is actually a warped version of the Tardis; the more we move out of it in cars, taxis, buses and camper vans the more miscellaneous STUFF remains in an accusing heap in the front room. How is this possible? Still, perhaps we would have moved more had we not planned our whole weekend around FOOTBALL. The divine, lovely, talented England team are in the quarter-finals, having beaten Denmark 3-0. As I write, whether we will be meeting Belgium or Brazil is being decided in Kobe, and I'll stop talking about football now, but how excited am I?

Hm, also responsible for a bit of time-wasting, now I think of it, was our lovely new local, which is a worrying 10 paces from our front door...

13:43

. . .