You Know, I’m Not Good

I was never a teacher’s pet. Nor was I a prefect either at primary or boarding school. Oh, I was ‘class councillor’ (that’s our boarding school lingo for class monitor) a few times but that was more to ensure class cleanliness than discipline (and by the way, our class did win the cleanest class once or twice).

I guess I always have a mischievous streak in me. I can’t actually carry out a prank because my expression will give me away. And yet I’d played a few pranks... OK here goes.

When I was in Form 5, I forged Mummy’s signature a few times to escape the penitentiary and Isabella, the ghost/prowler harassing us (why we called it/her that I can no longer remember). The potential trouble I may have created or the risk of being caught should I be involved in an accident or something never crossed my mind but now that I think of it, yes, I ran the risk of being found out. Was I a Bad Girl? No, I don’t think so. Irresponsible and reckless, maybe.

When I was in Form 5 too, I joined my other delinquent classmates and skipped Physical Education classes. I think this is akin to skipping lectures at universities (and this I never did). I also stayed up way after lights off and studied with the help of the corridor light (and risked being caught by prefects).

When I was doing A-Level, we went for a class trip to Shah Alam (again, I can’t remember why) but I do remember going to a museum. There was a huge bell in there and when I passed it with my mates - I didn’t know what possessed me then - I rang it. And stood frozen in growing horror and dread as the sound reverberated throughout the building (or so it seemed, it was deafening alright) until a security guard came and asked us if we’d done it. I lied of course as thoughts of me being thrown into a prison cell, appearing in court in prisoner garb and ruining my future crossed my mind. Yea, I know. Should have thought about it before and not after but heck sometimes I think ‘To hell with the consequences!’

When I was an undergrad, it snowed unexpectedly one fine winter day (it rarely ever snowed as our city was quite near the sea) and so we all ran out and played in the snow. I took a bowl of snow back to my room and kept it in the freezer. My mate came shortly after playing in the snow, we chatted for a while and then he left. And as he was walking along the corridor to the flat door, I remembered the bowl of snow, took it out of the freezer, took an aim and flung it at him with all my might. Bull’s eye! I quickly locked myself in the room – lest he had his revenge – and laughed and laughed as he knocked on the door.

My friend who works for the national petco once smuggled me one Friday lunchtime first into the then tallest building in the world and then onto the skyway – this was way before it was opened to the public. And when we were there, we found that there was a guard at the other side of the skyway... No, I didn’t get caught. But I tell ya, the thrill was worth being caught.

I shall leave you with the following lines amended from the song ‘You Know I’m No Good’ by Amy Winehouse:

I’d cheat the system if I knew I could
I told ya I was troubled, you know that I’m not good
I’d cheat the system if I knew I could
I told ya I was troubled, yeah ya know that I’m not good

So now you know, I’m not that angelic. I’m not that prude and I’m not that goody-goody two shoes. I’d bend the law (not break them, there’s a difference!) if I can and if there’s a shortcut, I will take it. And if I drive, I will not necessarily park my car right in the middle of the parking spot with the wheels aligned like Aunty does.

Because being mischievous once in a while is much more fun than being serious all the time. And at least I can say that I’d done something outrageous in my life.

Like the Bulgarian proverb and an old GUESS? advertisement put it: If you can’t be good, be careful.

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Euro2008 has ended and I’m glad to report that I’m getting good sleep - unlike the World Cup 2006 where I had problems sleeping for weeks after it ended. Thank God for that!

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Show And Tell

I watched The Nanny Diaries on Saturday morning - Chris Evans was very cute in there and Scarlett, ahh Scarlett, was beautiful as always. Had a quick lunch after prayers before meeting up with my friends to watch Beauty and The Beast Broadway Musical at the KLCC Convention Centre. We were made to wait a blinking 67 minutes before the show started, no thanks to a technical glitch. But the wait was thankfully worth it and I enjoyed the show, the music, singing and dancing, the costumes, backdrop and props, the lighting and sound effect. It was all very enjoyable and would have scored a perfect ten had it not been for the terribly long wait.

And it still would have been a perfect day had I not find myself getting increasingly annoyed, irritated and pissed off with a friend with her comments: about me still working at TheOrganisation; her numerous remarks about the outdoor parking when I had already politely told her that Lin had parked there before; her insistent manners which bordered on her being bossy and domineering; her know-it-all attitude about the convention centre and Broadway shows; and for making me walk all the way to KLCC only to have to double back to Mandarin Oriental to perform my prayers when I could have had just taken a direct route there all by myself.

For the record, there is nothing wrong with working where I am and for that matter, where anyone is working. And there is nothing wrong for having stayed at any workplace for any length of time. Besides, a colleague of this particular friend even resigned from their workplace and joined TheOrganisation. I also didn’t care about the outdoor parking especially when I don’t even drive. And I had organised an event at the convention centre only seven months earlier and pretty much know my way around – enough to know that we could have taken another elevator instead of the one we took which resulted in us having to walk through the car-park.

I don’t know why I felt so irritated with her or why I found her remarks that day especially annoying. Oh, I had on previous occasions listened to her criticise about singers that I liked (like Mariah Carey) and I just shut up. But I did feel annoyed with her bossiness and insistent behaviour that Saturday. Typical of elder sisters but Lin never behaved that way towards me (even though I know she behaves like that to her younger sisters).

Thank God for another mutual friend who brought her son along or I would have felt even more suffocated.

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Like I said, I really love Beauty And The Beast. I went to watch it at the cinema four times, I have the original movie soundtrack, and I even went to the Beauty And The Beast Disney on Ice show a few years ago with my niece. And I found myself singing to the songs on Saturday and yes, even sniffing and blinking away tears at the sad parts.

I especially like it when Belle sings the following:

I want much more than this provincial life
I want adventure in the great wide somewhere
I want it more than I can tell
And for once it might be grand
To have someone understand
I want so much more than they’ve got planned

Somehow it struck a chord deep within me when I first heard it all those years ago and I could so relate to Belle, to her wanting to get away from her provincial life where people thought her odd, to her desire for adventures somewhere. And I promised myself that I would do whatever it takes to get out into the world, to have adventures myself, to gain experience and learn of other cultures. And while Ampang is hardly provincial (six km away from KLCC!) sometimes I do think I don’t quite fit in, that I will always stick out by what I say, do, wear and think.

Hmm, one thing though: don’t you think Belle may have suffered from the Stockholm Syndrome?

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I woke up at 3.45 am this morning to catch the final match of Euro2008 between Germany and Spain. Alas, the coverage was not good and I found myself staring at blurry figures alternating with blank TV screen. Hence, I will not comment on it as I would not do justice to it. Anyway, as we know, Spain is the new European champions: yes, their first major trophy after waiting 44 long years.

*Sigh* It will be another month and half until the Premier League kicks off.

Girl, Interrupted

I was having a discussion with a colleague when we were interrupted by someone who asked my colleague to do up a worksheet for her. I stopped in mid-sentence and stared and after a while, cleared my throat and said, ‘Excuse me, I’m discussing something with him.’ She reacted like she barely heard me and I felt almost compelled to repeat myself and would have done so if I wasn’t so ‘amazed’ with her lack of ability to acknowledge that she had interrupted our discussion, her absence of apologies for having butted in, her lack of guilt and her very temerity. And heck, we were nearing the end of our discussion and even if we were still in the midst of it, couldn’t she at least have the decency to ask nicely if she could have a word with him and not butt in like that? Plus it wasn’t as if we were discussing something non-work related – and even then, surely any intelligent person would have the decency to wait until the discussion was over. And by golly, why did I even have to point out to her that we were having a discussion? Surely anyone could see that, especially if she is dependent on visual aid.

We finished our discussion and I went back to my place seething over her rudeness. To me, she was just being plain rude and lacking respect for others. How would she like it if someone interrupted her discussion with another without so much as acknowledging the discussion that was taking place?

What a bloody rude idiot. And to think I got along well with her not too long ago.

Football Focus – Part II

The third round of group matches continued last week with Azzurri and Russia securing their places in the last eight after beating Les Blues and the aging Swedes respectively. Defending champions Greece and 2006 world cup finalist Les Blues left after having scored only one goal each in the tournament.

The quarterfinals hence followed and Portugal which many (sans me) thought would progress far in this tournament suffered a blitzkrieg delivered by the usual German efficiency. Cristina showed that he more likely to be remembered at Euro2008 for his histrionics display (oh the serial diver drama queen) and the most boring transfer saga in the world than for his ability to deliver when the pressure was on. Lemme see, he scored, oh only one goal throughout the tournament. And I think Big Phil’s move to Stamford Bridge could’ve at least waited until after the tournament.

As for the Germans, one man particularly stood out besides his Captain Marvel – with his Blond Ambition Tour. Having been served a red card and missed the match against co-host Austria, Schweinsteiger scored one and set up two other goals. Apparently, he received tips from the chancellor herself during the one-match ban and he sure delivered and redeemed himself.

The Turks again showed they were full of grit and stubborn determination and like Arsenal - no actually worse than Arsenal - fashioned yet another dramatic late comeback. We all know the story – Croatia sucked at penalties and were out (I was actually rooting for them). I personally don’t fancy Turkey to win the tournament – they are so rough with many fouls committed and yellow cards earned. Football is a beautiful game and it should be played and won beautifully, not roughly.

The Russians, inspired by the return of Andrei Arshavin, embarked on a football revolution and played such wonderful football – despite having only three days to recuperate from their last match – to kick fancied Oranje out of the tournament but not before Ruud van Nistelrooy forced the match into extra time. I was supporting the Czars not van de Sar and was glad to see the Russians beat Oranje to a pulp, leaving them peeled, crushed and squashed.

And the vans (van Basten, van de Sar, van de Vaart, van Brokenhurst, van Nistelrooy and even van Persie) had vanished from Euro2008 after having been vanquished. But wait, there is still Dutch representation at the tournament in the form of Guus Hiddink but England is definitely out already.

And this morning, it was a boring affair as Azzurri met Spain. Like the two previous quarterfinals matches, it dragged into extra time and had to be settled with penalties. Lady Luck wasn’t on Azzurri’s side and Spain are through; they will meet Russia again and somehow I don’t think they will have it that easy again.

Except for Spain, all three other semi-finalists were runners-up in their groups. And except for the first quarterfinals match, all other three quarterfinals matches dragged into extra time. And there will be no representative from the ‘Group of Death’ in the semifinals.

I can’t wait for the semifinals!

Clothes Maketh The Man

...Or lack of it as in Fàbregas’ case? Here kicking ball with fellow Gunners

In Spanish training gear

A minor fashion crime so please don’t arrest him! A leather-clad Cesc doing his best impersonation of a smouldering lead singer of a boy band

At the 2007 Cannes Film Festival

More of this please!

And this (cor!)!

Football Focus - Part I

I can’t kick a ball to save my life but I am an avid fan of the beautiful game. At the Emirates Stadium in May 2008, in seat no. 13 i.e., the gaffer’s seat (Monsieur Arsène Wenger’s seat!)

The first week of Euro2008 saw three major upsets: world champions Azzurri were stunned by Oranje; the Croats creating a Kroatastrophe (yes, they are doing quite well so far even without Eduardo; this after all was the team which put the Three Lions out of Euro2008) in a match that saw Herr Schweinsteiger (behaving like err, a schwein) being sent off - for more of the match, go here and here; and 2006 World Cup runners-up Les Blues literally feeling les blues after being crushed by the Flying Dutchmen.

I’d like to touch particularly on the Italy-Romania match which was the 13th match of the 13th edition of UEFA Euro Championship and took place on Friday the 13th of June 2008. Gigi Buffon who had let in four goals so far compared to only two at the 2006 World Cup showed he was no buffoon after all when he used his hand and foot to save ex-Chelshit player Adrian Mutu’s penalty shot. Mutu found himself in that position no thanks to Panucci who earlier equalised for Azzurri. So yeah, it was hero to (almost) zero moment for both Panucci and Mutu in my opinion.

Hiyaahhh! How do you like my karate chop and kung fu kick? Buffon promoting the summer flick Kung Fu Panda

Just before half-time, Luca Toni who had until then appeared ineffective and useless slotted in a goal only to have it wrongly ruled out for offside. Speaking of controversial referee decisions, van Nistelrooy scored for Oranje from an apparently offside position. And Howard Webb, the sole England representative at Euro2008 was criticised for giving a late penalty to Austria.

We are now into the second week of Euro2008 and I’m sure there are many more thrilling matches to come. Defending champions suffered a Greek Tragedy (with such focus on defence, you’d think they’d be able to stop those goals!) and follow co-host Switzerland out of the tournament. After defeating Russia in style, sluggish second-half Spain only just about managed a win over Sweden - I had actually hoped the match would end in a draw to add further drama to the tournament.

And this morning, Switzerland, although down and out, gave a fine performance by beating group leaders Portugal 2-0. And I’m saving the best for last: there was Turkish Delight all around as they ‘czechmated’ the Czechs and had them czeching out of Euro2008 after having trailed the Czechs by two goals; all goals scored in the last 15 minutes of the match, thanks in part to Cech (to me, this is almost reminiscent of the Bolton-Arsenal match in March. In that match, Arsenal, reduced to 10 men, also fashioned a comeback and scored three goals in the last thirty minutes). The result was only marred by the sending off of the goalie in injury-time and Turkey will be playing without him in their quarter-finals match against Croatia. So much drama! Had Turkey drawn with Czech Republic, the match would have gone into penalty shoot-outs (no extra time) as both teams were level on points after two games, won one, lost one, scored two and conceded three. And mind you, the Turks haven’t got a great record against the Czechs - they haven’t won in their last 11 meetings and their only win in 14 overall was a 1-0 triumph in December 1958, half a century ago (info thanks to BBC). For more of the Turkey-Czech Rep. match, go here and here.

P/S: Oh yes, how could I have forgotten about Big Phil’s move to Stamford Bridge. Not sure if I like the idea of him at the football pitches in England though.

Scar Tissue

I decided I couldn’t take it any more. Hence, I decided to brave it and visit the doctor this morning. Sent a text to my good mate: ‘I need 2 talk 2 u. ... But I need to go 2 clinic 2, 2 rid myself of this blasted painful pimple’. So it’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s Superman ... or in my case, was it a boil, was it a pimple? Oh ... it was a boil!

And the doctor declared she would poke it saying that no one should poke his/her pimple/acne/boil on their own as it may lead to further infection and besides, if it’s not done properly, the residual pus or whatever might travel in your blood vein or circulation or something like that. (Doctors, please correct me. I understood her but can’t explain it well myself). I told her I don’t do any of that simply because I’m just too scared to cause pain to myself. I’m a coward like that (and ‘brave’ enough to admit it!).

She told me to lie on the bed and sterilised the area. I stopped breathing. She continued talking and explained the procedure. I half-listened, continued holding my breath and squeezed my eyes shut tight. She poked it and I experienced some pain.

After what seemed an eternity but in reality perhaps less than a minute later, she was already applying some cream on the area and sticking an adhesive bandage on my forehead. So now I have a little band-aid on my forehead. She also gave me the cream to be applied on the area and some band-aid too.

Went back to the office and told them they were all wrong, that the blasted painful pimple was actually a bloody boil all along. My mates all shook their heads and wondered how on earth would I ever go through a childbirth... well, we’ll cross the bridge when we come to it, won’t we.

OK, I better stop lest you think I’m obsessed over my abscess. I shall attempt to write a more stimulating post henceforth - but no promises of course.