tell me about it

Will you stay with me, will you be my love
Among the fields of barley
And you can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold

I never made promises lightly
And there have been some that I’ve broken
But I swear in the days still left
We will walk in fields of gold
We’ll walk in fields of gold

- ‘Fields of Gold’ by Eva Cassidy

There are some days - you know them by the pimply chins, swollen boobs and mood swings - when you just want to sit down and bawl. All the grievances you’ve been tucking into that corner of your mind spill over the mental barrier that locks them in and pour out through your eyes in fat, oily splashes.

Nah. I’m just tired. Tired and bored and feeling a little bit lost, bobbing around in an upside-down umbrella in the sea of uncertainty. I’m looking forward to the end of internship but at the same time loath to dive into the morass that’s the Yunnan mission trip. There are just too many things I’m not sure of and I hate being on unsteady ground. My confidence is so damn important in carrying me through but just about all of it is sapped away.

I’m out on a limb. Doing things I would never have dreamed I’d be doing. Wondering where I went wrong. Wondering if I’m doing penance for my sins. Medicating my wounds with alternative medicine, if you will. Cocaine feels so damn good with that first initial rush, then it methodically breaks you down as you cram more of it into your starving body. You think it’s what you need - but it’s not.

It makes you feel good while it’s slowly taking you apart. As it kills you. But by that time you’ve reached the point of no return and really, what’s death? It’s nothing. Nothing.

I know. I’m gambling with high stakes and I’ve never been a gambler - but I don’t need to look in a mirror to see the symptoms flashing like dollar signs in my jaded eyes. How far can I push the envelope before I’m playing for broke? It’s always “just one more game, just one more”, even though I know by now that I should’ve quit while I was ahead.

But how could I quit when I was never ahead?

Edit: Oh for the love of God, no I am NOT using drugs. It’s called analogy, people. Stick it on a spoon, cook it up, inject it into a vein. A-N-A-L-O-G-Y.

Me: What’s for dinner tomorrow night?
Mom: I don’t know. Why?
Me: *forlornly* Because I can’t come back for dinner tomorrow night.
Mom: Oh, well in that case…we’ll probably have steak!
Me: Hey!
Mom: *gleefully* Steak!  And mango salad!  And, and lobster bisque!
Me: YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME.
Mom: I know!  We’ll have sashimi!
Me: *cries*

Kitten is asleep on my foot.

My foot is asleep under Kitten.

How am I going to get up from my chair and get over to my bed to sleep?

Solution: take Kitten to bed with me.

*happy*

Bah, turns out I am going to miss more World Cup matches than I would like. This whole week is once again taken up by choral practices with the run-up to my trip to Yunnan, and this being the last week of work I can’t very well stay up late to watch the midnight let alone 3am matches. Sniff.

Definitely going to catch next Saturday’s 9pm match which is Portugal vs Iran, which also happens to be one of the matches Angel’s got tickets for (did I mention he is a lucky bastard and that I am Very Jealous?). Must watch at least one Porto match. Thought Euro 2004 was going to be Figo’s last international campaign but yey! He’s playing in World Cup! Deco! Pauleta! Figo! MyguiltylittlesoftspotforCristianoRonaldo! Whee!

And then I’ll miss all the matches from June 23 to July 3. *cries* At least…at least I’ll be home in time for the semifinals. I hardly think there’s going to be any way to really keep myself updated while I’m in China. What a mess. Maybe I can get some kind soul to SMS me. *peers* any volunteers? :D

Teehee now I’M in today’s papers thanks to Jean!

:D

Text is in Portuguese and if I’m not wrong it loosely translates to: “Soccer is great in any place, but it’s best on the channel ESPN.”

Insert requisite joke about balls here.  Jokes about aiming, pointing and shooting are also accepted.

Taken from Beware of the Blog

Angel’s in today’s newspapers hahaha.  Lucky bastard is in Germany to catch at least three matches AND he got in to watch the Brazilian training session.

Dying. Of. Jealousy.

Caught the Germany-Costa Rica match last night and my prediction was off by two goals, lucky I didn’t bet :P  I’d predicted a 3-1 scoreline, final whistle blew on 4-2.  Had been hoping for a Wanchope hat trick but alas Costa Rica proved to be no match for Germany.

The World Cup has begun!

Sugar Daddy paid for my candy-colored manicure!

Thanks SD :)

DO NOT SWEAR AT THE PHOTOCOPYING MACHINE.
DO NOT SWEAR AT THE PHOTOCOPYING MACHINE.
DO NOT SWEAR AT THE PHOTOCOPYING MACHINE.
DO NOT SWEAR AT THE PHOTOCOPYING MACHINE.
DO NOT SWEAR AT THE PHOTOCOPYING MACHINE.
DO NOT SWEAR AT THE PHOTOCOPYING MACHINE.
DO NOT SWEAR AT THE PHOTOCOPYING MACHINE.
DO NOT SWEAR AT THE PHOTOCOPYING MACHINE.
DO NOT SWEAR AT THE PHOTOCOPYING MACHINE.
DO NOT SWEAR AT THE PHOTOCOPYING MACHINE.
DO NOT SWEAR AT THE PHOTOCOPYING MACHINE.
DO NOT SWEAR AT THE PHOTOCOPYING MACHINE.
DO NOT SWEAR AT THE PHOTOCOPYING MACHINE.
DO NOT SWEAR AT THE PHOTOCOPYING MACHINE.
DO NOT SWEAR AT THE PHOTOCOPYING MACHINE.
DO NOT SWEAR AT THE PHOTOCOPYING MACHINE.
DO NOT SWEAR AT THE PHOTOCOPYING MACHINE.
DO NOT SWEAR AT THE PHOTOCOPYING MACHINE.