Dating a Sports Star

During one of my assignment breaks this afternoon, I sat down to catch up on the Commonwealth Games, now taking place in New Delhi, India. So far, my countrymen have snagged 2 silver and 2 bronze medals. Very proud of my little island. Then during one of the commercial breaks I switched channels and there was something I had never seen in all my life and I pictured dating a guy and bringing him home to meet my sports-loving father and the conversation with my dad going something like this:

Me: Hey dad. This is my new boyfriend.
Daddy: So what do you do?
Boyfriend: Into sports, sir.
Daddy: Oh really? I love sports. Used to play cricket, and I love football, track and shit like boxing too. So you play football?
Boyfriend: No.
Daddy: Oh, you run track? What are you? Sprinter or long distance runner? Or maybe you're into field events? Long jump?
Boyfriend: No. None of those.
Daddy: Cricket?
Boyfriend: No sir.
Daddy: So what the ass do you do?
Boyfriend: I am a trampolinist.
Daddy: A what?
Boyfriend: I am a national trampoline champion.
Daddy: Chile, get this man outta mih house and doh bring him back until he plays a REAL sport.

There it was. The UK National Trampoline Finals on my tv. I was laughing so hard I thought I would pee myself. I mean, I was certain there would be no black men in this ting. It has to be the most stupid thing I had ever heard of. Grown men and women jumping up and down on a trampoline for sport. Okay, so they were doing turns and twists and stuff, but really? A whole sport?

In other news, I found it a wee bit hilarious that as I got on the train heading to Waterloo a little after 7 this this morning, after a housewarming party last night, I still managed to pull a textbook out of my bag and read all the way in to London, despite a night of drinks, friends and dancing. There is something wrong with that image, isn't there?

What's more wrong than that image? Sitting here on a Saturday night with 6 books and countless journal articles open on my task bar, instead of being out in the West End drinking something fruity and rummy. I did manage to leave the house briefly to head down to my local Sainsbury's and get a dinner for 2 deal of paella, some veggies in white wine with shallot butter, a bottle of pinot grigio and dessert for just £10. Because yet again, I had to cancel all weekend activity, which included a wedding out of the city, and a dinner date, for school work, so had to bring the weekend to me. It was the best meal I had all week. For in-house food, it's pretty awesome stuff. What would I ever do without pre-packaged meal deals?

And it's going to be a long night of reading, assimilating, writing and theorising, so watch this space.