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('stead of makin' me better, you keep makin' me ill)

Blogging is good. Blogging is great. Blogging is… an excellent way to find out what I've been up last Sunday through other people's blogs.

I had spent two whole weeks secluded at home, crouched over my computer trying to figure out what the heck a Pozidrive Countersunk Screw and an IR Flood Output meant (it's NOT what you think, you dirty minds) and how I could translate them into Italian. There I was back on the scene, with a mighty great intention to have the time of my life.

Unfortunately, I was also quite tired and deprived of sleep, so it didn't take much (I hypocritically blame that one glass of chilled white wine at home while getting ready) to turn into the Clubber From Hell (you know, the one who knocks down your double G & T that you've just got from the bar – by the way as of last Sunday I know it costs exactly 3 pounds 60 at Substation South).

Did the DE experience really tackle with her trademark tact and political correctness (i.e. lack thereof) the Moscow theatre siege? Can't remember. And the Washington sniper? No recollection either. What? There is an Almighty remix of latest H & Claire song that I am absolutely crazy about? Nada here. Crooning along with David to "Close To You" while swaying in synch with Mike? Zilch.

I recall taking part in the Snogolympics 2002 – pairs long programme – oh, that I remember very well.

But apart from that, I think I was having more fun when I was having less fun, if you see what I mean. At least I remembered it the following day and I could make it last a whole week.