Obama's Secret Identity

My title choice suddenly reminded me of a show I used to watch as a kid. The show was called,"My Secret Identity". OMG I just looked it up for the link and found out Jerry O'Connell was the lead boy I had this SUPER girly crush on (haha despite being a major tomboy as a kid I always managed to maintain crushes on members of the opposite sex). Gosh that is such a blast from the past, after I post I'm going to go find the original episodes.

So anyways, I was surfing and came across this vox post about obama and the question of him being arab or not. Generally, I dont care about the details of his life but the post seemed interesting. It was. I loved the way the author pointed out those two facts that ppl often get wrong. It was logical and made lots of sense, I think even the likes of McCain and Paris Hilton could understand from the way it was broken down. If only all americans could be so 'enlightened'.

TAG

I'm 'it'. I used to love that game as a kid and I guess its really no wonder. Any game that had objective running in it I was all over. (Running just to be running never appealed to me.. probably the reason I hate the cool down rounds we have to run after tennis practice.) I must have played every single variation of tag known to humankind but my all time favorite was 'freeze tag'. Dont bother asking either, cuz I have no idea why it was my favorite.

Remember how, when playing with a group, there was always the kid that every loved to tag, but was usually abandoned by his teammates? I was never that kid, least not that I can remember. At times I would feel sorry for whoever it was though. Didnt stop me from tagging 'the kid everyone loved to tag' or being party to leaving that same kid untagged (freeze tag) for nearly the whole game.

That's the memories associated with the word for me, but this post is supposed to be about the 'electronic tag' I recieved. So four. That's the number of bloggers that came to mind that I should choose one of to write about. La Doctora, Bookworm, Katheria and RAG.

Of all the blogs I read, those 4 stood out. Like the semi-finals in a tennis match, the last 4 standing. BW gets an automatic disqualification on accounts of being 'the Federer' or if you dont follow tennis and dont know who the hell Federer is or what he means in the semi finals of a tennis tournament, then in plain terms BW was the obvious/typical choice. I hate typical when it comes to something I'm doing. 1 down (gomen BW), 3 to go.

LD, fine piece of blogging she had going. Unfortunately something went wrong and she decided to toss it. The tag rules mandate 'members only' - exclusive. No blog, no entry. 2 down, 2 to go..

K, I'd love to write about. I love her blog. Its part of my morning ritual - to go read it I mean.. Come to think of it, its part of my evening and afternoon rituals as well and late night after evenings, and early mornings before actual morning, lol like I said, I love to go to her blog. Sorry K, as much as I love ur blog and thoughts, LJ is kinda on the 'banned list' and the back door has been locked otherwise I'd have smuggled u in ;) Oh wait.. U dont use LJ anymore, hmm, I just checked ur blog. Can't make out wat it is. Hmm, it could be wordpress. Rules said Blogger or Wordpress. I know what blogger layout looks like without even seeing the address. I dont recall ever seeing a wordpress blog before, so it's very possible urs could be wordpress and I just not know that. (Somehow I've shifted from speaking about u to speaking to u. Note to self: I need to put that shifting in check. I do that when I'm writting stories also.) Ah what the hell, the possibilty of ur blog being a wordpress blog is just as high as the possibilty of it not being WP. There, my choice has been 'divinely' made for me =) Ok, choice made I need to go back and read the rules again, see what I'm supposed to write about my chosen one. (I had intentions of making this a two parter but it seems there isnt a need anymore ;) )

Alright, so I'm supposed to talk about the things I like and dislike about K. Hmm, lots to like and not much to dislike ;) I like that she likes animals. She isnt a mainstreamer. Likes random and spontaneous when the occasion calls for it. Understands things that most ppl dont. Smart, funny and blogs on mood. Oh! I didnt mention that she likes video games and cats as well! Aside from all of that though, I think I love her blog most for the effect her posts have. Happy, sad, angry, excited.. no matter the mood of the post I always feel like her words reach out and make you feel those things with her. I can't honestly say I've come across another blog that did/does that. This coming from a blogaholic. I've seen a fair share of them, from the funny and interesting blogs to the 'sadly pathetic keep u coming for more only out of curiosity' blogs. Maybe in a few years time when I am promoted to an authoritive position of blog connoisseur with a fancy title (hey no one calls 'sommeliers' alcoholics =P) perhaps I might know a few more bloggers of K's stock. But until then, my vote's on her ;)

That was actually easier than going with my orginal plan, when I cant make up my mind about something, I wait. Then the first thing that comes to mind, I do the exact opposite. Those first 4 were all pretty much disqualified (RAG because he's a resident and I only know him as far as stalking his blog - plus imagining the reaction one of my fave residents on Grey's would have if they randomly received an E-tag, well let's just say it was unnerving lol.) so that left me to choose from whoever came to mind afterwards. Ruby Woo was the winner of that round.

So this is the part where I tap 5 others to don the members only jackets. Let's see... Ruby, K, Drunk 'n' Gorgeous, I'd tap BW but she was already tagged. Hmm, I can't think of anyone else that would respond to a tagging much less want one. I guess that's what I get for being more of a blog stalker than participant..

Death's Aura

Title explicitly states the content of this post, so if you are one that doesn't like to read or think about the subject you should skip this entry and wait for one of my better moods.

How does one cope with what they can't even speak about?? It’s not usually a subject I like to think about, sure about my own death I am curious and wonder how my end will be – but as for thinking of the death of others (with the exception of one person) especially friends, I don’t. Some things happened earlier today, during my extra long break (11:00-2:00) and for the rest of the break I really couldn’t think of anything else. It’s the one question that I could never ask myself and was asked a few times before by others but could never respond to. The question is/was: “What would I do in the event of losing a close friend?” Simultaneously two answers come to mind: “I’ve never had a friend who died.” and “Her.” What about her? Simplified; she was just a person I happened to know. Her sister and I always had this love/hate/respect relationship going, but me and “her”, well she just happened to be in the places I usually was in. She just happened to share lots of the same interests as I had… She just happened to be shy and quiet as I was.. She just happened to like jelly beans as much as I did.. She just happened to always be around to keep me company when I couldn’t bare mixing with the others.. And she also just happened to be the one that hung back with me whenever everyone else was going to take part in some mischief and I’d shrink back for fear of what my parents would do if they caught me doing or heard I was participating in such activities. She was the one that stood by me when the others would jeer at me for being too chicken to take part. Yet, when she got sick and went to the hospital, I couldn’t even write her a letter, too ashamed to show I cared or was worried. She never did get well again and when she died, mother gave me the news. I shrugged my shoulders and said I didn’t know her that well and it wasn’t like we were close or even friends anywayz. If after all she had done she still wasn’t considered a friend, what defines friend from mere acquaintance, close friend from friend? To this day I still regret not at least acknowledging to her that she was a friend or even someone I cared about. Even knowing that she was really sick, it just didn’t really seem fathomable that someone you know/knew, hung out with would die.. death came for other people’s grandparents, great aunts/uncles, really old people no one bothered to really think about anymore and of course people you never knew never met and just read about in the newspapers. I couldn’t do it back then and I still have some trouble expressing it now. Some, I think, actually understand why, but then of course there are a few that believe the influence of going to school amongst those who have slight to acute issues in gender confusion, is finally starting to show its negative affects ( I might tell an “off color” joke here and there but that totally doesn’t mean I swing the other way.. ) That is very much not the reason for my expressions, and yet I wonder, I may not have regrets in regards to telling them how much they mean to me but does that make coping any easier?

“Sometimes you have to max out the good times with the people you love/care about because before you know it they’re gone”

“She” asked me for one simple thing and I couldn’t do it, more like I wouldn’t/was too shy to and refused. Her sister told me later that “she” had cried. The opportunity was there. A year, maybe more.. I don’t have the right to ask her to forgive me.

=)

Remember when we used to do this? ;P

Can't Stand it Anymore

The last two pics are painstakingly similar to my (former) cat Bu6i. The only difference between them and Bu6i was that Bu6i had a cataract in his left eye.

I really can’t stand it anymore. I must get a cat. Sure mother will breathe fire but let her. I’ll tell her a cat is an essential must for my mental health. I doubt she’ll care though. She’d look me in the eye and throw the cat in the street. Seriously speaking I was way less stressed when Jassim and Bu6i were around – though before them I was quite close with my pillow, in the end even though a pillow is a good listener u pour ur heart out and in the end u only have a soggy wet pillow. Some how I never really felt much better.

I really didn’t think I’d ever get over Jassim’s death. He was my BEST FRIEND. Even though he was a cat and all there were times when he seemed so “human” it was scary. He went everywhere with me, to my friend’s house, to my cousins house, to the store, to my student (actually this student was the one that gave me Jassim, it tickled him pink that I was so attached to the gift he gave me) heck he even went to school with me. I used to put him in a shoe box and stroke him discreetly under my desk. Once I forgot to bring him food, he got hungry and decided to go search for some food himself – in my classmates’ bags. They screamed their bloody heads off even though later they all admitted Jassim was super cute – I mean come on who wouldn’t think a fluffy ball of white and brown fur with blue eyes wasn’t cute?

There were times that I got him angry at me and he’d show his displeasure, like the time I was trying to study and he wanted to play (he was still a kitten back then and ALWAYS wanted to play) I got frustrated at his repeated attempts and sprayed him with water. He retreated to a corner and shook himself dry. I didn’t realize how angry he was till he was approaching me slowly with his head cocked to one side. His eyes were angry! He took a flying leap and sunk his teeth into my hand. I tried smacking him away but he bit harder. It hurt like hell and he didn’t let up till I stroked his head and promised to play with him. I doubt he understood the promise but he got the general idea that I was apologizing and released my hand. The only other time that he got really really angry at me (didn’t forgive me for days) was when I went to Kuwait for two weeks. My brother and I went to go visit our sister. Everyone else was home. They told me every day Jassim would go search my room calling and calling and then he’d search the rest of the house. They said after a few days his calls became whines and he whined all day and all night. Finally he started sleeping with mother – even though he still continued to whine during the night. One night mother said she told him to keep quiet otherwise she was going to throw him outside. She said surprisingly he kept quiet that night. I called a few days before we returned and asked my brother there to put the cell phone to Jassim’s ear so I could talk to him. I talked for a few minutes and he whined back. My brother said his eyes were searching the room and after I got off the phone he went straight for my room in hopes of finding me. When I finally did get back Jassim was sitting on top of the front gate. I called to him. He looked down at me with a look of disgust (seriously it was a pure look of disgust) he refused to come near me for days. I was really surprised. If someone had told me before that cats could hold grudges like that I would have thought they were lying.

Despite the times when I pissed him off, Jassim was always there for me. Whenever I was down he would sense it and keep my company. One 3ed I was really sick, hadn’t gotten out of bed for days. Jassim stayed with me almost that whole time. I remember that day my folks made breakfast and it smelled really good. Jassim ran off to go eat with them I suppose but they wouldn’t let him. He was only allowed to eat with them if I was there cuz he’d sit by me and I’d sneak him scraps. I thought he would have come back after he wasn’t allowed to eat with them but he didn’t. I dozed and was awoken by Jassim. He had brought in a dead bird and dropped it by my bed. He never ate meat of any kind unless it was cooked and seasoned – but I’m quite sure he got that bird expecting I’d eat it and feel better. I really appreciated that thought but I sure didn’t wanna see a dead bird in my room, right there beside my bed no less!

I had Jassim for 2 years and a half.. maybe 3/4s. I had raised him from when he was a kitten. I wasn’t ready for him to go. Some times when I think back on it I realize his death was partly my fault. He died from an infected cut. He loved to go outside and hang out with the street cats whenever he’d go out for the bathroom. One day he came in with a cut on his chest. It was really tiny, a puncture wound they call it. I figured it was ok I’d just wash it up for him. A couple of days later it turned into a lump. I had no idea about any of that. I didn’t even know that those lumps come from infection. Over a month or two the lump would come and go. One day that lump just opened and oozed out disgusting stuff. Jassim stopped eating. He barely moved around. That’s when I realized maybe I should take him to the vet. I took him and the doc gave him two shots and said he’d be fine but bring him back in a couple of days for 2 more shots. Over those couple of days Jassim didn’t look “fine” as the doc had said he was. The day I was supposed to take him back to the doc he looked really sick. He was drinking lots of water but refused to eat. He would only walk two steps before collapsing on the floor and resting for a while before moving two steps more. It tore me to watch. It was evening time when I was supposed to take him back to the doc. It was before I got my license here so I couldn’t drive myself. Mother said she was too tired to drive. So my brother and I went out to get a taxi with Jassim in a box. We waited forever for a taxi, they would stop but when we said where we were going they all refused saying there was too much traffic in that area. We waited and waited until it got so late that the vet was closed. We never got a taxi and had to go back home. I felt so bad for Jassim he looked really sick and just tossed and turned in the box. I stroked him most of the night apologizing for not being able to take him to the doc. The later it got the less Jassim turned. I prayed that he wouldn’t die. Prayed really hard. Guess it was too little too late. I couldn’t bear watching him anymore. A part of me knew he was dying but I kept denying it to myself. I moved the box with him in it into the hall. I went off and sat in the living room beside the hall. Every so often I could still hear him toss and turn slowly in the box. I fell asleep praying he wouldn’t die.

In the morning I could feel alarm setting into my dream – I remember dreaming that night but I don’t remember about what. One of my brothers came in and said Jassim was dead – stiff and dead. I couldn’t look at him. I told my brother to put him and the box outside. My brother not knowing what to do put the box outside but didn’t bury him. For two days that box greeted me as I came and left the house. On the second day after I came home from school I forced myself to look inside. It hurt more than any pain I’d ever felt before. He had died with his eyes open. His eyes that were once an amazing shade of sparkling blue were now murky… and empty. I wanted to throw up. I closed the box and went directly to my room. I cried for the first time in two days since he had died. The next day my students Ali and AbdulAziz came over, they had a test or something to study for I don’t really remember clearly I was totally out of it. They kept asking me what was wrong. I knew if I told them I’d cry again. That was definitely the last thing I needed, to cry in front of them, their sister, mother and the boy who gave Jassim to me (he was there also but by that time my mother had taken over teaching him). When I left the living room on the pretext of retrieving something I think mother or one of my brothers told them cuz they were really quiet when I came back. Finally Ali, Abdul Aziz, Rashid (the boy who gave me Jassim, that was his name) and my two youngest brothers decided Jaasim needed a proper funeral (Ali and Aziz both knew Jassim and liked him as much as the rest of my brothers). The five of them went out, picked a suitable place, dug a grave and buried Jassim and the shoe box. I’m not sure what rituals they performed out there but they looked very self satisfied as they marched back inside and informed me that they had taken care of business. They were all very solemn about it.

In the weeks that followed Rashid kept asking me and mother if I wanted a new cat to replace Jassim. I refused him front, left and center. In the end he got me another cat, kitten actually. My brothers pulled him out of the box for me. God, he was a cute ball of cappuccino colored fur! I forced myself to refuse him. I left him sitting in the living room. A few times I went in to peak at him and see if he needed the bathroom cuz mother would have gone ballistic if it had an accident on the sofas. He looked hungry, scared and hungry. Poor guy, somebody had just thrown him a piece of brown bread. I stroked him a bit, his fur was SO soft. He was a purer breed of Siamese than Jassim was and had full Siamese markings. Damn what had Rashid paid for this new kitten. He really wanted me to cheer up. After visiting with the ‘new’ kitten a couple of times a week in the living room it started to follow me around. Every where I went he was always there right behind my feet. I once purposely walked around in circles in the living room and he followed me till I stopped. Dammit! How the hell am I supposed to reject something this adorable?! The answer was I simply couldn’t. By the end of that week he was sleeping in my bed with me cuddling up at the foot by my feet. When I sat at the computer he wanted to be in my lap. He’d cuddle in my lap for hours as I sat in front of the computer. LOL I think BW remembers that time, it was her freshman year in uni and she’d come online during class time and hear me complain about how I wanted to refuse this cute kitten but couldn’t. I remember thoroughly grossing her out when I informed her that Mr. Cute Kitten went and threw up all over my feet one morning as he was cuddled up down there on my bed.

He didn’t get a name till way later. My brothers had a friend and their friend had a little brother named Bu6i. The name sounded cute so I decided I’d name him that. When asked, BW seemed to like the name as well and that settled it. Bu6i never was as smart as Jassim but he was unique in his own way. After learning my lesson with Jassim I took a lot better care of Bu6i. Took him to the vet at the slightest sign of illness. He got into a fight outside with the cats one day and ended up with a “lump” a few days later. I took him straight to the vet. Vet cleaned him up good gave him a few shots. (Bu6i hated the vet with a passion. A few times when I took him and the doctor had to stitch him up after a fight or give him shots he would cry and u’d see tears streaming down his face. The doc thought that was hilarious.. It drove me insane that the doc could laugh at poor Bu6i like that.)

Taking care of Bu6i gave me something to get my mind off of Jassim, even though I still thought about him sometimes the pain was less.

Bu6i didn’t die though, he was stolen. He had an infatuation with the “great outdoors” beyond our gate and any chance he got to run out of the gate when some one left it open he took. One night my brother walked in and left the gate cracked. Bu6i knew how to open the gate the rest of the way, enough to squeeze out, with his paw. I searched and searched for him the next morning when I realized he wasn’t in the house. He had disappeared a few weeks before that and a neighbor bought him back scowling and dirty. He had been missing for around 5 days or so that time. This time I waited and waited.. 5 days passed… 5 weeks passed.

A boy that lives across the street from us claims his aunt saw Bu6i and took him back to Pakistan with her. I’m not sure whether that was the truth or not. It’s been over 5 months now. Way over. I still keep an eye out for him. I wonder if I ever do see him again would he recognize me?

Something on My Mind

I found out just last week that one of my classmates father died when she was a kid (11 years old). Even though I know it was a long time ago I still felt really bad for her. It rekindled a thought that I always used to think about even as a kid: Which is better, better as in less painful, to have a father that passes away when ur old enough to remember or to have a father and he’s really an animal – as in abusive/indifferent/mean or super strict without reason. Or to not know ur father at all (as in u don’t know who he is even, just have a name but no face to go with that name or he walks out on u when ur young and u never hear from him again).

I wonder if my classmate thinks about her father often or is that something that with time u don’t really give it much thought anymore.

My grandmother (mother’s mother) died not too long ago in 2004 (I think). She had Alzheimer’s. It was sad that she died, but I can’t honestly say I felt deeply pained about it, I mean yeah I feel sad if anybody dies but when she died it was just that normal feeling of sadness I feel for anybody that dies not like hey that was a relative of mine and she died and I’m not going to see her anymore. Yeah I know that sounds downright awful. But I never knew her really. For as long as I can remember she’s always been in bed in my grandfather’s house on respiration machines (I vaguely remember a time before she was on the respiration machines when she used to come out in a wheelchair and sit at the table with us. I don’t remember her ever talking. She’d just have ice cream – strawberry flavor) and then the last time I saw her was when I was 12. We moved away from the city my Grandparents lived in and went “down south” and afterwards moved over here. Anyways my point is I probably thought about it for the rest of the month or whatever and after a year her death was hardly on my mind. That’s why I wonder (even though I’m sure my classmate was much closer to her father than I was with my Grandmother) if she still thinks about her dad?

Heck, I’m thinking as I’m writing and I’m coming to the conclusion that she probably does. It was years ago that he died but 11 years was enough time to really feel his death when he died (Allah Yarhamhu). I wonder what kinda dad he was?

Gosh, I’m really a horrible person.. there are so many questions on my mind that I want to ask – thank God for the shred of shame I have, at least to know it’s untactful to go and ask such questions.

If a Psychology Major course doesn’t open here I’ll concede and study it through distance learning..

Monopoly

As promised I uploaded the computer game version of monopoly. This one is called Monopoly Here and Now, I think it's the latest version.

I have very fond memories of that game. I remember when I was younger like 7 or 8 my older sister used to try and play it with me. I found it to be a supremely boring game, didn't understand the point of it. Then when I was 11 one of my cousins had a Computer Monopoly game. We used to play it alot. I don't remember ever winning though - even though I don't remember losing either.

Before we moved here to UAE, mother brought a few board games for us. One of them was Monopoly. A couple of months after we moved another one of my cousins came over. She taught me all of the basic rules of monopoly. We didn't have any friends here and nothing to do but sit in the house and play game after game of monopoly. We used to have marathon games from like 11 in the morning till 7 sometimes 10 at night. Haha, every single time with out fail she beat the living hell outta me at that game. Once we had gotten into trouble - we were really deep down there in trouble cuz we weren't even supposed to speak or associate with one another (parents can really come up with some stupid stuff..) we were going through monopoly withdrawal. One day we decided we were GOING to play ghsban anhum and we arranged to play after they all (the parents) went to sleep. It was way after midnight closer to 1 am. The moon was beautifully full. We grabbed the monopoly game and set it up on the roof. It was the most fun we had ever had playing - and - I was actually winning... until I drew the pay that ridiculous amount for every house and hotel u own card. My back was to the roof door so as I was showing my demise (cuz that was going to make me go bankrupt and of course that meant I'd lose) to her I saw her staring open mouthed in shock. Took me a bit to realize she wasn't gaping at my card, I turned to find her mother standing at in the doorway of the roof...

~~BUSTED~~

We laughed about that one for a long time. Those were good days =)

BTW Kath: If ya play that monopoly game against the computer watch out for "dog" lol that piece plays dirty - especially when u play against more than one piece (it's alot more fun if u play against two computer oponents). This game also has the option to play against other real oponents - like if ur bro wants to play with u, u just add another player and select Human I think.. I know if u want a computer oponent u just leave it set to A.I. (artificial intelligence?). I think one of the best parts about computerized monopoly is that the computer takes care of the bank - I hated it anytime I got stuck being the banker.

Also my friend gave me this site Atari Games. She said you can play against ppl online. I haven't tried it yet, maybe this weekend in that 10% that I'll be spending awake I'll give it a try =P

A Friend's Pain

I try not to really think about it even though deep down I always hope that one day he’ll just miraculously walk in thru the front gate or one morning I’ll wake up and find him beside me curled in a cute ball of ruffled fur as he always used to do. There’s no denying the fact that I miss him more than anything. Of course I’ve lost friends before but I guess this is what it feels like to lose one’s best friend. It’s a pain that constantly remains with you, you can force yourself not to think about it and it retreats into a deep corner of your heart but the moment you aren’t actively fighting it it comes back hitting full force…

When is it going to heal? Is it even possible to heal?

“Once bitten, twice shy” Is that not how the saying goes? Yet I was a fool to be bitten once and then consenting to make it twice. And worse is the first wound amplified by the second…

When will this heal? Will it ever heal? This pain I carry and I feel…

A Week in Nosta-Land

I went to play tennis with one of my tennis mates last Saturday in the evening. Even though we told the receptionist we were there to play tennis first she only gave us one ball…I’m not exaggerating! My mate asked for balls and the lady handed her one ball. We stared at it and looked at her. She didn’t find anything wrong. Some of the basketball team players were around and they howled with laughter. Even they know one can’t play tennis with just ONE ball. Finally after my mate pointed it out that we needed more than that she said fine go wait on the court and she’ll send one of the worker ladies out with some balls. We walked out there and found the court dark. No lights were on. We waited. My mate was annoyed. She said she’d go back in herself and ask the lady to hurry things up. I had brought a few balls so I decided I’ll practice my serve – in the semi-dark. I could see enough to do that. I got out my racket and began to walk to the center of the base line. Mid-step a wave of nostalgia hit me like a thousand tons of brick.

Being on the semi lit court (there was a bit of light from the parking lot outside the court) so reminded me of the days when I was younger and used to play baseball with my brothers and neighbor. We used to get so wrapped up in our games that we would play straight through from 10 or 11 in the morning till after dusk. We’d literally play till we could no longer see the ball to pitch, hit or field. Made me smile remembering how seriously we took those games.

I watched as the tennis ball I had thrown up, preparing to serve, came down and connected with my racket. It didn’t make it over the net. I waited too long. I couldn’t help but remember the first time I had gone to the court and found it semi dark. I had gotten there exceptionally early considering my friend wasn’t to show up for another hour or so. It was then that I figured out how to do the slice serve. We had a lot of fun that day.

I after a few successful attempts to get the ball over the net my tennis mate still hadn’t returned. I suddenly had the wild urge to capture the court in its semi-lit state.

(My hand shook a bit as I took the second picture and that's why it's blurred.)

By that time my mate returned with the balls and someone to turn on the lights. As usually it was a lot of fun. We played a total of 21 games (that would be 3 sets and 3 games). Though I had a lot of fun, there was still a distinct hollow feeling - something was missing…

Monday evening I had tennis practice. I sat on the bench outside as three girls were having their lesson with the coach. I watched as their balls flew every which way on the court save a few that actually made it to or in the general vicinity of the illustrious red cones. The world around me spun as I was taken back to Nosta-land. I remembered the days when another three person group used to go two evenings a week. On good days that group laughed and shared jokes quite a bit. Of course in tennis there are always bad days that one just has no control over and on those days that groups’ balls could be seen flying over the high fencing onto the other court and sometimes even going out of the courts completely. Fate had it that the group would be separated. One of the members became sidelined with an injury and got busy with work, life etc.. The other two members stayed on and were joined by a new member. Over the period of a few months the third member of that group was changed a few times. The void of the injured member was never filled even when the group was complete with 3 members.

In the end only 2 members remained. The coach went off on a month long vacation and that would be the end of those last 2 members as a group. One got busy and the other considered going and playing elsewhere if not give tennis up for a while. The coach returned and caught wind of that and offered one of the members a spot on the club team. Not finding any place else to play, being nagged to accept the offer by someone else and enticed by the prospect of paying less than half the normal price of lessons, the member accepted the offer.

After the first team practice, that member only found 2 of her new team mates tolerable and sorely missed her old group. With each passing practice she hated having accepted the coach’s offer more and more. After one particular practice that member decided enough was enough and to hell with being on the team or paying less – there was just no point if one wasn’t having any fun. In her opinion it was better to go back to being a normal member so she could join her old group mate. The night before the member decided to inform the coach that she was formally quitting her former group mate informs her she’s giving up tennis completely. How things turn out…

There’s a tennis tournament coming up. A real one with prize money and all. Even though it’s not that much money it’ll still be fun cuz I’m sure everyone is going to be giving it their all. The competition will have singles and doubles matches. I’ve been wanting to play doubles for a while. It’s loads of fun. After being declined by the first person I asked whom I would have felt honored to play with I found some one willing to pair with me. She at first worried that she wouldn’t do so well and that she would cause us to lose (the same reason the first person had for declining) but then she understood what I tried to explain to the first person. It doesn’t matter to me whether we win or lose (It’s pretty rare anywayz when I decide to get seriously competitive..) the most important thing is to have fun out there. Of course we’ll try to win but if we don’t it’d still be fun to have tried. We’ve been practicing for it.. Saturday we played pretty long. Lol of course I had hell to pay for it in school the next day. Monday after team practice which consisted of an hour and 15 mins in which we played 8 straight doubles games, I stayed back and played 10 singles games with my rival. I think my rival might be having a temporary bad tennis week, I beat her 6 – 4 which is totally unheard of. I have NEVER beaten my rival before. I might get a game or two out of her 7, 8 or even 9 or 10 game wins but I never beat her in the final outcome of games. I think I may be finally gaining some control over where my balls land. Some where around the 50% region.

I better get going.. I have my work cut out for me before tennis tonight.

Once upon a time..

Feels like ages since I last posted anything here. Needless to say I finished Gankutsuou. God, I was angry. Can't remember being that angry over a story since I was a kid. When I was a kid (preschool days) I had three stories that I was madly in love with. A day couldn't go by without me having heard at least two of them. They were: Goldilocks and the Three Bears, The Three Billy Goats Gruff and The Very Hungry Catepillar.

Goldilocks was my book but the other two came from the library and had to go back every so often. At any rate since the books were read to me on such a regular basis I basically had them memorized down to the finest details. The adults of the house used to get really tired of having to read the same stories over and over again so occasionally they would get creative on me and make up parts of the story. -Unacceptable!- Mother says I used to throw huge tantrums if the story wasn't told properly. The only time I accepted a variation of one of my beloved stories was when my older sister told a totally made up version of Goldilocks. It was exceptionally good and really long. I think it was so long that it dragged on for days and when she finally finished I begged her to tell it again. Of course she didn't feel like it and most likely had forgotten how the heck she started it so she said she couldn't.

Anywayz my point was that ever since I was a kid it used to anger me when a story wasn't told properly. When I read about Gankutsuou it was like OMG, one of my favorite stories in a japanese anime?! I immediately thought it was going to be the most amazing anime I had seen to date. The animation was amazing. The beginning eps were also equally amazing...but then they had to do it. I think it was ep 18 that suddenly took a wrong turn and incurred the wrath of the Hazardous one!

Despite my anger, curiosity got the better of me so I continued watching. I'll admit that it was a good anime if one just pretends it's a Japanese tale called Gankutsuou that is very similar to The Count of Monte Cristo.

Aside from finishing Gankutsuou I've basically done nothing for the week, with the exception of lounging around watching tennis and waiting for Soul Link to finish downloading - not even work on my project! I feel like I've been extremely lazy. Thankfully that mood has passed and I'm in productive mode again.

El Hazard and the Pea

Last night was the third straight night that I have been totally exhausted and once in bed unable to sleep! My bed is comfy enough.. I just can't seem to find a comfortable position to fall asleep in. As I tossed and turned last night I realized that it wasn't the position or bed that was bothering me. I must have stayed awake in bed till way past 1 am trying to pinpoint the source of my irritation. I know now how the princess felt in that story where the pea was placed under her bed! Only in my case the pea sprouted into a huge beanstalk..

Aside from the fact that the receptionist on morning shift at the club is a 'chalba' and a certain blogger whose blog I used to read frequently turned out to be the male equivalent of a 'chalba' (he will probably go to hell for saying such things...) the root of my irritation came down to two things:

1. My Project
2. That damn cat

Generally, I'm a fairly patient person when it comes to the waiting game - except for when it's exam results, the lastest ep of one of my favorite anime to download or like in the case of my project, seeing the finished result. It is truly troubling to go to sleep every night knowing that it's yet another night and I've not finished! Last night in particular I was going to bed without having even looked at said project for the day much less finished it. - Irritation source # 1.

As for that damn cat..actually maybe he's still a kitten - but damned all the same! The day before yesterday the a/c switch in my room broke (hopefully the guy will come to fix it today!) so I haven't been spending any time in there except to shower or retrieve random items. Yesterday while searching for one of those random items I noticed a smell..not smell as in the result of leaving sweaty tennis clothes unwashed for a couple of days or even socks if worn for a week without washing! No this smell was about a thousand fold worse. If I stood by my bookcase the smell was really vague and I thought maybe I had imagined it but everytime I got near my chair I'd have sudden flashbacks of when I was a kid and used to play the game "Hot Buttered Beans" (God! I know the game has another name but for the life of me I can't remember what that name is.. anywayz for those who don't know, it's a game where one person hides a small item -which is shown to the players before it is hidden- somewhere in a room and then calls out to the participants of the game "Hot Buttered Beans! Come get your supper!" and then they would come and search the room as the person who hid the item informs them as to how close they are to the hiding spot by telling them they are "cold", "lukewarm", "warm" or in case they are extremely close "hot" or "burning".) My room door became "cold", my bookcase was "lukewarm" and the chair was "warm". To the left of my chair is the direction of the room door, so to search in that direction would be getting cold. So I went to the right of the chair. As I got closer and closer to my desk, which is in the corner on the right of the chair, the smell became "warmer". By that time I was sure of it. That damn cat left a surprise somewhere...

I think it took all of 5 mins to find 'it' half covered by a pile of papers by the wall. Smell had increased 100,000 thousand fold. I'm not going to go into the details of it (aren't I such a kind a caring blogger to spare my readers such disturbing descriptions?) I'll only say it would have been better - not to say that I like either but in terms of what is being talked about here - had it been a simple 'turd' or 'leak'. I so didn't feel like cleaning that up but it wasn't like anyone else would so I had no choice but to hold me breath and get on with it. That was late afternoon. Later, that evening, I went to put something away in there and thought I smelt something again. I had desperately hoped my nose was imagining things but in the back of my mind I knew the cat had left a token of his appreciation again. I was already exhausted but no way could I leave such a thing to permeate my room even if I wasn't planning to sleep in there last night! I searched around again and found not one surprise but TWO! That was way more than my tolerance meter could stand. A simple cleaning of the contaminated areas was so not going to do. The whole room was cleaned and disinfected with heavy duty chemicals till I was pouring off more sweat than I do when I play tennis (duh the a/c isn't working so it was bloody hot in there) and it screamed "For God's sake I'm CLEAN already, what more do u want?!". In the end of my madness I opened the windows and retired to the shower before finally crawling into bed. I was seriously considering kicking that runny @$$ed cat out on the street. If he were a cat and not a kitten I probably would have done it without hesitation. I wondered why the hell I took that cat in, in the first place. He's certainly not my beloved siamese cat Master Bu6i.. nor is he Jaasim for that matter. Deep down I must have believed he'd fill the void. No such luck. As punishment I locked him outside - not all the way out, he was still within the gate walls, just out of the house. There's plenty of sand out there he could use the bathroom in. Twice last night some one let him in and he came to sleep beside me. I was mad so he was put directly outside again.

Just guess what I found when I went into my "spotless" room this morning?! A fresh 'surprise' right under the window! DAMN - THAT - CAT!!!!!! After all of my cleaning and disinfecting and after banishing him outside in all that sand I wake up to find another 'surprise'????! That can only mean that he held himself and waited till he got back in the house to leave that damn mess in my room... I won't stand for it anymore! Cute or not, cat or kitten that demon is going out - not out the house, OUT THE GATE!