Olympic Weekend

The 29th edition of the Olympic Games kicked off on Friday evening with much pomp and splendour – alas, I missed the Malaysian team make their appearance. It looked like the Chinese have handled everything pretty well so far and orchestrated everything to a tee. I couldn’t help thinking how magnificent and what an honour it’d be to any athlete to be representing his country.

Saturday morning was TheOrganisation’s annual dinner. I went out in the morning with a view to returning home by afternoon for a rest and did what I’d never done before: got a manicure and pedicure (OK, I’d gotten a complimentary manicure before) and no, it wasn’t because of the dinner but it was something I’ve wanted to try out and experience. The Filipino nail person (I couldn’t quite figure out if she was actually a he or a genuine she) told me that my nails were dry and that manicure and pedicure should be done on a monthly basis. Righttt... doubt I’ll be doing another any time soon, what with the new Premier League season (finally) looming over because I’m sure I’ll be chewing my nails as I watch the matches. I like to keep my nails short and the nail person reacted with some surprise when he/she saw my short toenails and asked if they have problems growing.

I then did a quick grocery shopping before having lunch. Oh, and I did something I never thought I’d do: buy a pair of Crocs! I’m getting nervous at the ease with which I’m using my plastic now.

I was starting to feel sleepy after lunch and did another thing I hardly ever do while shopping/window shopping: yawn. That was a sure cue as any for me to head home for a rest as it would be a long day and evening ahead.

My buddy, Elle, arrived shortly after half past five. We caught up with each other before I realised I needed to shower or we’d risk being late for dinner. The traffic wasn’t too bad for Saturday evening and we reached the hotel – coincidentally, the hotel has part of the current Olympic games tagline in its name - in 20 minutes (at one point when we stopped at a red light, the driver next to our car kept staring at us making me real uncomfortable. I asked Elle if we should engage him in a staring match but she said it’d be a waste of time and effort and I agreed).

There was an announcement that while there’s no theme to the dinner, everyone should at least be dressed in ‘smart casual’ clothes with jeans and t-shirts expressly forbidden. I noted though that while the girls were smartly decked out in their clothes, there were guys who couldn’t make the extra effort to dress up: I guess it takes too much time and effort to make oneself look presentable, to dress appropriately according to the occasion for a once-in-a-year event at a good hotel. Surely it’s not asking too much? While I for one would like nothing better than to dress casually on Saturday evenings, heck, on weekends, I try to make an effort. It’s not too much but clearly some guys felt otherwise. Why, there was this bloke next to our table in jeans!

This reminds me of wedding ceremonies and receptions here especially those held during the day. The girls would be demurely dressed in their traditional baju kurung or modern kebaya while the guys, well some guys would mostly be in shirts, t-shirts, or worse, footie jerseys. Like WTH!

Anyway, back to Saturday evening (I’m prone to digressing in case you haven’t noticed!): thank God Eric was in a smart lounge suit. I was The Lady In Red (well, various shades of red anyway).

I had a good time and enjoyed myself: the MC was good and not too OTT; Buddy Loren was wickedly fabulous and he had me in stitches – I was laughing so much and enjoying myself tremendously throughout his brilliant performance; Sheila Majid gave a professional performance; the food was good; the company at the table excellent; and no smokers milling about outside the ballroom. I was as usual involved in the spirit of things, singing along to songs, swaying to the music, laughing hard at jokes, even playing the angklung enthusiastically.

Alas, I didn’t get what I never got before: win a lucky draw prize.

We left after midnight – we spent the arduous wait to exit the car-park in heavy discussion – but not to worry, I’m no Cinderella.

Sunday was spent with a brief sleep-in, watching the Olympics and finishing my novel.

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Arsenal came back from behind after trailing by two goals to beat Ajax Amsterdam in the last 25 minutes of the Amsterdam Tournament match on Friday evening (hmm, wonder if the host were going ‘Amsterdamn it!’). I was glad to see my magnificent matador in action again. And though they went on to draw with Sevilla, it was still enough for Arsenal to lift the Amsterdam cup.