I had a tiring weekend after an exhausting week at week. In addition to the usual Saturday chores, I also cleared the larder of waste. Really, for a single girl, I produce a lot of waste! It all involved a lot of clearing up of boxes (tea, instant soup, vitamins...), washing up of containers, reorganising the cabinet contents and getting rid of clutters. It was all very exhausting but satisfying and I was too knackered to do anything much for the rest of Saturday. Oh, I did do the dreaded ironing. I hate ironing (I believe I much prefer cleaning the house) - and even so I iron enough for a few days each time instead of ironing my clothes daily - but I also believe in delayed gratification.
The new Premier League season kicked off Saturday evening with the Spuds hosting new-money Man S***ty and boy, Joe Hart was really good. Capello must have been blind to overlook him at the World Cup. Blackpool scored an amazing four away goals at Wigan (what a way to announce your arrival eh) and Chelsh** rounded up the night with a six-goal spanking over WBA. Oh and earlier in the day, Wenger signed a contract extension that will see him at the Emirates until June 2014. Until the next World Cup in fact.
I woke too early on Sunday and couldn’t really nap despite trying. The Liverpool-Arsenal match was the only one on Sunday and it had to kick off at 4 pm GMT (why oh why). Arsenal were sans captain Cesc who was reportedly nursing a chest infection (besides a Sheryl Crow infatuation). Liverpool were down to ten men just before the end of the first half – a bit harsh but Cole did deserve a booking of between yellow to red. I was frantic as I thought that was the end of Koscielny (hereafter LK6) but he came back in the second half, apparently protected by the shin pad. I thought LK6 did pretty well on his Premier League debut and away at Anfield at that - unlucky to get sent off though. Chamakh struggled to adjust himself to the pace of the PL and Shava seemed to be drifting (apparently nursing an injury). Arsenal huffed and puffed and looked to have lost the match (how did we score that 6-1 against Everton last season?) as time went on (despite the numerical advantage, we were short of defenders, a decent goalkeeper, a holding midfielder and a captain) but somehow Reina gifted Arsenal a goal and the match ended a draw. And I had trouble sleeping as I always do if I sleep too late on a weeknight.
Need optimism? Then read this. 
It wasn’t me, guv~~~~~~~~
Was thinking this morning of how blessed I am for my dad. Thank you, God, for giving me an imperfect dad. He’s blind to my errors, flaws, mistakes, shortcomings, emo yoyos and immaturity. He’s deaf to my rebellious hot-headed retorts. He’s mute in the sense that he never raised his voice against me – sure I’ve been scolded but am never shouted or screamed at. He’s disabled because he never laid a hand on me; I was never slapped, pinched or caned ever (and I don’t take it kindly if friends and strangers do slap or thump me because hey even my parents don’t do that!). He’s the best dad. Oh sure, I disagree with him most times and I know he deserves a better daughter than me and I’m not making it easy for him because of my stubborn nature but God, I’m so lucky to have him as my dad.
I love you, Abah. I don’t deserve you and you deserve someone better. I hope I haven’t disappointed you too much. I wish I can tell him I love him more often without feeling self-conscious. That’s the problem of being Asian for me – I wish I can express myself better. I can, to my friends and in this blog, but find it difficult doing so to my parents. Funny eh.
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