Weekend hijinks

So this was the weekend of the Scottish Open Volleyball Tournament in Perth. It's always just referred to as Perth by those in the know. Which excludes me, obviously. Perth has indoor and outdoor volleyball on offer, but you have to be shit hot to be "invited" to play indoors in the "Division of Honour". If you knew who I knew playing indoors, you would realise that there was very little honour about.

So little ol' righteous me was relegated outside, which I hate. Outdoor play is always billed as being "fun!" and "just a muck about". Er, no, -- it's just sloppy and lazy. There's nothing fun about a volleyball dropping because people's defensive skills have evaporated. And I am not going to laugh after that 19th dropped ball, two inches in front of you. I am a true comedy connoisseur and three is the number of humour and therefore, my limit. Yes, yes, yes, I know that you had 10 drinks the night before, barely able to make it on to the court that morning. I was with you, had 8 drinks to your 10 (I'm a lightweight) and am still moving my ass like a crazy woman. And I'm old enough to be your mother! (Okay, only if it was a very, very, very special virgin conception, but the point is I'm old and you're not!)

We just had the six needed to play by recruiting a friend of one of the team-mates who hadn't played in two years. She promptly tore a ligament when went for a short ball and slid. Poor thing... thank God she gave me her money before she injured herself though. So we were down to four players, as her friend and our team-mate who gave her a lift had to go back as well. And there was my situation: outdoor volleyball, camping in the cold, not even able to play decent volleyball or volleyball at all, watching proper volleyball in the Division of Integrity with loads of envy and disgust. What's a girl to do, other than drink her 11 pear ciders that she bought with her? A true Scottish weekend.

PS -- I did twitter about it. Why don't you read it?