No Guts, No Glory

Tomorrow's match just quadrupled itself in terms of importance, due to the disgustingly played match by us on Wednesday. But water under the bridge, no use crying over split milk and all that cliche mantras aside, let's focus intensively and more importantly, positively, on this final chance against PJC.

C'mon team, we didn't suffer through all the bloody fifteen seconds sprints around the court, doing quickfeet like engernizer bunnies on steroids, gritting and bearing with all the squats that got us screaming bloody murder in the aftermath, for NOTHING. We know we got what it takes, and all that is hindering in this leap to second round is our defeated mentality that we've already blew it. I know losing to MJC was heart wrenchingly wasted, and a definite should-not. But the score is up and their lucky win has already became an irrefutable fact. So let's all cut the what-ifs and haul major ass tomorrow. It's down to this one match, where we either make it or break it. And if we keep reviving the previous game in our minds, we are going to bloody break it. So let's all forget about MJC and psych ourselves up to triumph tomorrow.

Team IJC netball, let's go all out.

(It's unfunnily ironic that the one major game that decides the fates of both schools, it's me against Yuhan, whom I've played along for four years back in secondary school. Fate is making my life one big fucking taiwanese drama serial. Han, dear ol' ex-teammate, may the best team win. (: )

Aye, can't you tell I'm incoherently nervous. blabbering my way into a nonsensically naggy entry. Fuck, I'm going to shut up and go to bed now. Toodles.

Joyce's Mom is Fucking Cool

Joyce: "Mom, I think you can forget it, the teachers take a long time with the parents. Nobody's going to return any sooner."
Her Mom: "No, we're parking here. Get out."

When I grow up, I want to be just like her Mom.

For What Its Worth

I think people who take personality quizzes and cheat by deliberately choosing answers that will result in their personal ideal characteristic type and then, express surprise in the "oh!I didntknowIwasactuallyoptimistic/sociallyactive/extrovertedbutIguessIam!" kind of way are bringing the term stupidity to an entirely whole new level.

I Need Skinny Jeans

Friendly match against ACS (Itnl) on Monday, and I have this ridiculous but nonetheless genuine fear that their whole team is teeming with towering, big boned Xena-lookalikes who devour players like me for breakfast. Oh get a grip, why don't I.

Tournament dates for competitive sports are looming closer and closer, and the pressure is intensifying with each passing day. The tension seem to have permeated the entire school, with hockey, basketball and netball tournaments being held over the next two weeks or so. Planning to skip lessons to provide vocal support for Ryn during one of her hockey matches and for KL and Cin during one of their basketball matches. I know I know, disgraceful Block test results and I still subject myself to truancy, but hey, it's the last year to compete in tournaments for everyone. After this, there won't be any 'nextyears' or 'nexttimes'. Cost-benefit analysis and all that shit, I figured I could afford to miss out on a few lessons.

And on an utterly random note, free Ben&Jerry ice cream cone at their outlets for everyone next Tuesday, for those who don't know. They are commemorating something or another, I'm not sure what though, but whatthehey, you know that is not what's important anyway.

Enough already, I need to pee badly.
Tata!

(I know pleading exhaustion is not a valid excuse not to send Ril off on his year long course trip around the States yesterday. It's a bit incredulous to think I won't be hearing his colorful speech and feeling his rock steady presence for an entire year. I'm sorry that I wasn't there yesterday, bro, at whichever port you will be reading this right now. Have fun, stay safe and miss us.)

This Blank Canvas

School days are hectic, and there isn't any inclination of a ceasing in speed and intensity. But during those little pockets of moments in all the rush, where the whirlwind of madness lapse for a tiny window of time, I feel like an empty shell of a person, going through the rigors life seems to be flinging delightfully in my face, not feeling much. Or rather, suppressing everything inside, because there is simply no time to confront my emotions or my thoughts. The random spark of anger, spurt of joy or tug of misery, my heart acknowledges, but the mind does not. It's always "I will think about this later" or "It's just simply not worth it to rehash all this now" or "I can't afford the fuss thinking about this will bring me."

They tell me to savor life, experience the bittersweet and delve into every emotion felt, to embrace all with open arms. Right now, those arms are loaded with responsibilities, assignments, worries and duties. I find myself dismissing the matters of the heart aside, to clench my teeth and bear it, or to take a deep breathe and hide it. Expression is a luxury, and facades became a necessity. Sad, I know.

I'm jaded enough to know some things are trivial and are just not worth investing time and effort to brood over, but sometimes, I just wish to reclaim the prerogative of a flighty irresponsible and dreamy fourteen year old schoolgirl, and sulk over the smallest pettiest things, and having someone to pacify me and make me feel better about myself. It's a female thing, I guess.

Enough about me. Somebody once told me, chocolate cures everything. I'm going to see if the theory works now. If anyone of you happen to be reading this, do tell me to hang in there, won't you? I can really use your encouragements right now.

"If you are going to walk on thin ice you might as well dance."

Good Friday

We watch the season pull up its own stakes, 
And catch the last weekend of the last week, 
Before the gold and the glimmer have been replaced. 
Another sun soaked season fades away. 

I'll ride on your high