Deadpoet’s Cave

That’s one of the main taglines for the ongoing Rugby World Cup. I have to say that I’ve been quite distracted by the tournament. My essays and exams have taken a back seat. I really enjoy watching rugby. Partly because it’s not on as often as football. I treasure it a lot more. And it’s something I could have been proficient at too…

Why oh why did I refuse my friends’ invitation to try out rugby when I was in Saint Joseph’s? Why did I quit rugby after three months in junior college? Actually, that should be: Why did I run for student council instead of staying on in the rugby team? And a related question: Why did I refuse my friends’ invitation to play squash? (I only picked it up after much persuasion - from Theresa - at the ripe young age of 20.) All these “what ifs”… I shan’t dwell on the “what could have and should have been”.

Speaking of colours, I took this test I found on Christine’s blog.

You’re orange! Your bold, courageous and proud of
who you are.

Color Personality Test
brought to you by Quizilla

Never pegged myself as an orange person. Perhaps I should start supporting Holland in football. Someone did mention that all the sports teams I like are clad in red, black and/or white. But then, I like blue…

P.S. Added Chevelle’s and Marcus’s blogs to my list of links. Also, check out friendster! A wonderful way to procrastinate, like we need another way to wile our time away…

• old times | photography
• Football is back
• the “real” general knowledge test
• Connections

The break has whizzed by… so many things have happened. But right now, two things that piss me off:

Denise is online, telling me about my uncles and aunties. Once again, there’s conflict among them because of the perennial “Who gets to take care of Mother” debate. My mum is apparently the selfish one in all this. My foot. Mum has done more for her mum than all my uncles and aunts combined. I’m seriously pissed off.

I don’t care if some of my relatives think I am arrogant idiot. When I go back home, they are going a good tongue-lashing from me. I don’t know if they take my relative silence during family gatherings as arrogance, or just me being like my dad - the quiet type - but they should be thankful I’m not in Singapore for Christmas, ‘cos I’m not going to be in a very charitable mood.

I’m so disgusted that now they have a taste of what my family has experienced for over 20 years, they actually have the gall to suggest that my mum should still do her bit. Don’t they care about my grandmother? Don’t they bother about my mum?

———-

Thursday night during Keith’s birthday at Frost Bites I bumped into Grace. It was a pleasant surprise, but what happened later wasn’t. Some time during the night, Lydia told me that she’d fainted, and that her friends brought her home. I was a bit worried, so I messaged her. Also called her the next day, but got her answering machine. I didn’t make much of it, and I left a message.

She emailed me later to tell me that her drink had been spiked and that she ended up in hospital. I’m damn angry on her behalf, even though she said that it’s in the past. She also said she doesn’t know who spiked her drink. Grace may have forgiven the person who spiked her drink. I’m finding it a bit hard to do likewise.

• grandmother
• Sail Away, Baby
• Los(t) Pintos
• Geni-alogy