fun is in the eye of the beholder
written: 6:05 p.m. on Monday, Aug. 26, 2002
And boy, do I suck. I suck so much, it's not funny. This time the opponents approached my goalpost 3 times. The first time the girl missed, thank god, but I almost died of a heart attack anyway. Second time, however, my defenders were god-knows-where and the place was wide open, and the two girls from the other team were approaching like lightning with the ball and I was at a total loss, so when one of them took a shot I didn't even attempt to save it. It rolled under me and woo-hoo, it was a fucking goal.
My team lost that one, all thanks to me. Great. I understand that we all make mistakes, and hell, I never claimed to be good at sports, especially not football, but still, it hurts terribly. And Iker Casillas didn't save even one penalty against South Korea (though he did block the first one, but he and the Spanish team was so bloody suay that day that the ball rolled, literally rolled, in under him), and it was the World Cup. I know how he felt, oh yes I do. Poor baby.
Anyway, good news is, I managed to stop the ball the third time round. It hit my shin with a loud smack, and I wanted to catch it but failed to, so I ran out and started kicking it, and for some reason it rolled out of the field, so yeah. Saved.
Luckily, or I'll just bloody die.
Was so tired the entire day after that. Slept like a pig on the MRT, and almost got off the wrong station. My friends and I went down to the track to play badminton, which was fun, but the sky was overcast and soon a huge gust of wind swept across the field, which made it hard to continue playing as the shuttlecock is so light, so we went to play table-tennis instead. I hate table-tennis. Dread it everytime when we do it for P.E. Yunnie tried to be like her idol Li Jia Wei, who won a gold medal or something for Singapore during the recent Commonwealth Games, and if she really trained, she could be like her, yeah. She's sportier than me. Everyone is sportier than me. But I don't really care as it's not a big deal. It's not even anything.
This review said I talk about Joaquin too much, but hell, I don't think I do. So after watching Signs I was excited, but come on, Joaquin is my favourite actor in the world and I've just seen his new movie on the big screen. Naturally I'd be excited. Signs was my second Joaquin-movie-saw-in-theatres-and-not-some-crappy-VCD, and anyway, it's a good movie, Joaquin or no Joaquin, and I've just decided that I'd really love to piss people off by going off about Joaquin all the time, because it's so fun when people get mad at the insignificant shit that I do, or hey, I can go on about Iker Casillas (that's Cas-si-us, like Cassius in Julius Caesar) and football if I think it's going to get redundant and annoying because it's fun, I like it, and I'd talk about whatever I want because I'm writing, not you, and if it ever gets boring, well, too bad, it's not my problem.
And besides, half the time I have nothing to talk about because 1) my life is that dull; 2) talking about school is boring, potentially worse than talking about Joaquin; and 3) I've exhausted all resources and my pool is drained. I don't feel like re-narrating events that I've already written in my private diary, so even if I had gone to someplace interesting yesterday, I won't talk about it because I've already talked about it elsewhere and it just kills my brain cells to re-write them again.
But on the way home I did see this ang moh skate-boarding across the road with his shirt unbuttoned, and I thought it was really cool.
before sunrise // before sunset
Previously:
- - Tuesday, Aug. 29, 2017
I'm moving. - Sunday, Jul. 11, 2010
In all honesty - Tuesday, Jul. 06, 2010
What I want for my birthday... - Sunday, Jul. 04, 2010
On Roger's behalf. - Friday, Jul. 02, 2010