We're going to PARIS! TO PARIS! TO PARIS! TO PARIS! TO PARIS!
I love ARSENAL! ARSENAL! ARSENAL! ARSENAL! ARSENAL! ARSENAL!
At the 89th minute penalty to Villarreal, I prayed nervously for a miracle like...the penalty taker got a cramp in his leg/ slipped and missed on target/ Lehmann dived in the right direction and blocked the ball. It was such a finger-biting moment. 8 out of 10 penalty shots made it to the back to the net. BUT this one DIDN'T! Lehmann got the devilish ball snugly in his hands!
My eyes popped when the team formations were revealed at the start of the match. Arsenal was playing a 4-1-4-1 formation. Clearly, their minds are on defence. A goal or two will be a bonus.
After the final whistle, the Villarreal players broke down in tears. To be fair, they put up a good fight, pushing forward constantly with a double-digit shots on target (all saved by the Man-of-the-Match Lehmann). Diego Forlan was in fantastic form, penetrating through the tight Arsenal defence to look for the break-even goal. Both Arsenal and Villarreal were underdogs in the early stages of the championship. Arsenal is fighting for 4th position in the EPL whereas Villarreal is 10th in the La Liga. To put it crudely, critics dismissed the two sides off as 'jokes'.
But now, Arsenal qualified for the Champion League finals on an 1-0 aggregate. We're going to Paris - to Paris!! AC Milan face Barcelona today. Can't wait to watch it!
[In small print: I've a soft spot for Italian players especially the Azzurri. Drools.]
Because of a blasted hair cut
25-04-06 14 30
I did it AGAIN. I instructed the petite hairdresser to make sure I can see a significant difference in my hairstyle. She obeyed my instructions to the word. From the working apron tied around her dainty waist, the hairdresser whipped out shiny, metallic cutting devices that cropped off clunks of hair clinically. In a few minutes' time, even the seriously short-sighted and myopic me can visualise a stranger from the stunned reflection in the huge mirror. Mirrors don't lie, you know. Except those screwed-up changing room mirrors in certain apparel stores.
Damn, I can't even define myself. I'm a pathetic specimen of a undefined status creature. Forget about feminine graces, those I never possess and definitely not in this horrifying instance. The miserable mass of hair can't even pass for a neat crew cut.
I mumbled furiously under my breath. A few more snips and I could rectify this mortifying hair into a spikey mob. I can tolerate a spikey hairdo but not a limp, bodyless flop of hair.
The hairdresser shifted between my left and right, working dilligently at creating layers on my hair. I wrestled with the counter strategy in my mind, suppressing the urge to scream "STOP!" I wasn't sufficiently drunk in my misery to holler at the hairdresser and her nimble fingers. I continued staring helplessly at the reflection. You know, she looked like she can't wait to get her hands on an authentic wig.
At long last, the hairdresser completed her mission. I put on my glasses slowly, reluctant to glimpse at myself. I surveyed my hair wryly. This lady is good with her craft.
"Is this hairstyle to your satisfaction?" She asked politely.
"Yes, it is. Thank you," I replied, forcing a halfhearted smile on my lips.
"Erhm..." I called out hesitantly to the lady who had lowered her head to reach for a pair of scissors to snip off a stray strand off my fringe.
"Yes?"
I played with the thought of shortening my hair into a spikey hairdo. The others are going to think I've relapsed and gone mad again. That's the least of my worries, it's the effort of changing the way I dressed, accessories and shoes etc to pull off the punky hairdo. I had been there, done it. The fired up desire that surged through my pulse a year ago had vanished like vapour. There wasn't the rebellious streak. I just wanna be normal; to blend in. I know that probably sounds like a weakling talk but it's much easier to follow the lead and say baaaa. The M from a year ago would have scoffed at this idea and snorted in disgust.
"Nothing. Thank you for the haircut. How much do I have to pay you?"
It's alright. Time to dig up the wax, clay & hair liquid that have gathered dust from months of neglect and seriously fix up a decent hairstyle.
(Sigh) I wish I sound more convincing than the optimistic, foreign cheeping.
You know something is not right when...
you read all these in a month's work.
Mathilda was for Christopher but I couldn't resist it. I made that my tea-time snackbook yesterday.
I've to say this about Cloud Atlas - it's by far the prettiest book I've read. Hot pink paperback embossed with exquisite silver designs. I just have to read it. In case you're wondering, this hot number is anything but chick lit.
I'm halfway through Tuesdays with Morrie. It's sitting on my cluttered desk for hours. I shot a wayward glance at it occassionally but that's about it. On one hand, I'm eager to flip open the book but on the other hand, I was too shaken bythe heartwrenching honesty Morrie taught his last lesson.
Before I emptied my pockets on the books, I busted my pathetic account on tragic korean drama series. I sought out the most tragic soap drama from 2005 - Save your last dance for me.
It was my first k-drama after The Winter Sonata in 2002 (which I watched less than 5 episodes). Fans swear by their soggy kleenex that Last Dance is one of the best tearjerker of the year. I rented the set, sat down on the couch and began...smiling wryly to myself. The korean actors and actresses are unrivalled in their art of crying. They cried, and cried, and cried. Everyone on the screen wept their hearts out. Even the bitsy roles are not spared. Tears flowed heart-wrenchingly with dramatic poise. For any indication of the volume of tears shed, R pressed "Fast Forward" at the first sight of a stiffled sob. She finished 4 discs in less than 2 hrs (Each disc is approximately 70 minutes long).
Crying aside, if you look past the plot typical of soap drama, Last Dance is a lovely distraction. The cast looks pretty good. They've good props - Chrysler, Bentley Continental and LG. The background music combines seamlessly with the plot. Unlike the Hollywood productions I'm accustomed with, korean dramas have many scenes in which the characters play out their roles without the aid of speech.
After I got myself riding on the crest of the K-wave, friends recommended a comedy 红豆女之恋.
I regret to say it wasn't as satisfying. In fact far less satisfying. I'm just a sucker for tragedies.
I thought the earth was flat and if I walked far enough, I'd stand on the milky way. But after picking myself through vast stretches of land, I realised Christopher Columbus was right. The earth is round. I'm back to the origin again.
In life we walk amidst death
In life we walk amidst death. People who cease to exist are nothing more than vultures who feed on the carcass of a dead man's life. The precariousness of life once overlooked is an imperial feast for the king of vultures. And have we not on several occasions choose to walk around signs that foresee undesirable outcomes? An old saying goes by "Ignorance is a bliss." But sayings are words of wisdom or the lack of passed from generation to generation. It is a maxim but not a doctrine.
Some are followers of ignorance; some choose not to pursue the truth. During a tea break, people stood in a haphazard queue for food or simply to get to the exit. There were two doors, one on each end of the room but no one took a second glance at the door pasted with a flimsy paper which read "Do not leave through this door." The first person who had only wanted to leave the damn room to take a leak could have possibly have read that notice and assumed the door to be locked and joined the long queue whose primary aim was to get the snacks placed on the table next to the door. After which, everyone followed suit. No one bothered to turn the knob of the door until he did. A person rose from his seat and left through the forbidden door like it was the most natural thing to do. Others looked on in surprise, a look of betrayal evident on their faces. It was unnatural to disobey warnings but that guy did the obvious and came back a happy bunny.
Rules are made to safeguard the interests of a community. Norms are deep-seated rules that make sure you don't run around naked. Laws are symbols of civilisation because a myth says justice is a knowledge that only intelligent people can wield at ease.
What does that leave us with? Follow blindly to what's expected and instructed? Just follow the mainstream and you will be spared the agony of making out-of-the-ordinary decisions. You will reach your destination according to the date stipulated on your neat timetable. A linear journey is always the easiest but also the most boring and least satisfying of all.
I'm a fine product of socialisation whose existence is measured by the degree of parallelness to the railway tracks that mapped out my life. I've a couple of vices - nothing seriously detrimental that will warrant a calling down from persons of authority. I'm in short, a boring person whose greatest threat in life, is the terrier who lived on the sixth floor.
I don't walk around signs. I'm above that. I walk on it in its full glory. Thirty-eight days before my legal age of 21, I'm certain as newton is of gravity that I've lived my best years and the remaining years will be fulfilled dutifully. The happiness quotient will be of a respectable value for me to pull off a cordial smile on social occasions.
I've always believed happiness is an abundance of good luck. There must be a limit to how lucky a person can be. We run into bad luck just like the awful cold and coughing fit that invade our immunity systems when they feel like it. Luck is a temperamental little thing, as capricious as happiness is.
I can't explain the purpose of this entry other than it all started with the vulture idea on a bus ride home. Things don't usually go the way I planned it to be. If I've decided to reach A, I'd undoubtedly end up on the other end of the continuum. After a while, I give up on planning and the big word called 'strategy' altogether.
With the courage of a fool who has nothing more to lose is more than enough, for me to continue this linear journey.
I love ARSENAL! ARSENAL! ARSENAL! ARSENAL! ARSENAL! ARSENAL!
