Dad, Mum, Brother & Sisters
My latest addiction has come in the form of the Brothers & Sisters (B&S), the drama that revolves around the Walker family. Somewhat a more mature theme than Seventh Heaven as B&S pictures on mainly the complications that arose with the sudden death of William Walker, the head of the family.
I hold in great affinity of the close kinship that the Walker siblings have with each other. What I love about the cast is the great chemistry that the actors and actresses have as a family that it clearly slips off my mind that they are not even a real family.
The main thing I love about the drama is the family love it showcases.
Coming from a family of six, relatively the biggest among my paternal side, we're a noisy bunch of people.
Raising of voices to get things done and screaming at each other's throats during fights are a norm to us.
But, so too are sitting together at the dinner table, watching television shows and having discussions as a family.
Maybe I am lucky that I even share a joking relationship with my dad. Most of the time, I'd comment on his ever-growing-bulge of the tummy, and other times, I'd end up ignoring his demand of attention each time he said he wants to start bowling again. And he would still depend on me to wake him up for the 3am Liverpool matches.
My mum has a favourite daughter. But no, it isn't me alright. But I would like to think that we've all, if not, almost grown out of sibling rivalry. Every one of us would get differing amounts of attention. Technically for now, I'm the one with the biggest cut due to my current condition and although I am not complaining, I would not mind not getting the bi-hourly calls from her. Despite her quirky and bimbotic ways (which I suspect what we girls inherited from her) and her career, she still is the mother who rushes home to cook, do whatever laundry she can and prepare stuff for the family.
I am extremely excited at the future addition of a family member in the form of a sister-in-law. She is definitely someone I am very glad that my brother has chosen to be with. Anyway, I would never have thought that I could come close to being this cordial with my brother as a previous entry had stated how much bullying I was put under my brother. And as the only guy among the siblings, there are always times when there are accusations of some abuse of power. But thank God, he's still the brother who lends me his PSP to play Burnout and offer me the drive to beat his record.
My younger sister, officially the third sibling yet always mistaken as the eldest (I still maintain as the second, just that my eldest brother tends to come across as the third), acts as the biggest rebel among us. Always pouncing on some opportunity to wear my clothes despite the fact that she is 1-2 sizes larger than me, she poses as my wardrobe's wrath. No prizes for guessing that we'd usually end up screaming at each other for the same reasons. Yet, being a fellow volunteer in the same organization as I am, we're inseparable as one of the group of "volunteer sisters" where we are each other's pillars whenever we can be.
Now, coming to my mum's favourite daughter, my baby sister (ok, I know she's already going on to 16 soon but I don't care, she's still my baby) whom I am missing terribly now that she's in KL for her CCA activities. Let me correct what's in the brackets, she isn't only my baby, she's everyone's baby in the house. Everyone (except my dad) creeps up to her when she's asleep and tries to coo to her with the potential risk of her screaming in her sleep to get off her bed. But she isn't perfect. In fact, I do scream at her (I told you we're a screaming family) if I am not satisfied with her actions. Oh, I miss her so much.
I hope our kinship will stay this strong as always. Its my only wish for my family, my home.
I cannot ever imagine having to live my life without any of them.
Guilty As Charged
There are many reasons why the government passed a ruling that stated family members of habitual gamblers have the right to ban them from gambling in the upcoming casinos.
They say, old habits die hard.
It works the same as paying for bills.
Some people just don't learn their lesson from the first, second or even third time. Wait, let me correct it. FOURTH &$%#ing time.
To a person whom I had dated before, I have a message for him, clear and bright, in this public domain, lest he forgets to check his email.
The handphone line he was previously using was under my name. Yes, the foolish me actually had the heart to use my particulars to apply the line for him because this person owed huge debts to Singtel, M1 and Starhub (best right??).
So 2 years later (needless to say, he was out of my life soon after I applied the contract for him), he asked me to terminate the number as the contract had already expired.
While I was doing so on the phone with Singtel, they recommended me a light usage line for me with a renewed contract as I could get a free cell. They assured me that they had updated my billing address as they needed the correct address to mail the handphone to anyway.
As months went by, I had received none of the bills. It should be the 3rd month bill coming soon.
%$#@ fact 1. I called up Singtel and I realised they had not yet updated my address. So it was actually mailed to the ex's house instead.
%$#@ fact 2. The outstanding amount read all the way from June and under the previous number 9******9, the bill had chalked up to $161 right before I changed the number.
Once a debtor, ALWAYS a debtor. Guilty as charged.
Ps: I will recover all $161 from the concerned party. Watch me.
Behind My Silence
The truths behind my condition:
1) I can hop and balance on my right, uninjured leg. But only for short distances of 2 metres and periods like 10 min maximum before the right feet start hurting like mad.
2) I can bend my left knee fully (180 degrees). But I am still on a non-weight-bearing condition, which means, there is no way I can exert any form of pressure on my leg. That also constitutes to the necessity of both my crutches.
3) I don't only have a fractured knee; my broken pelvis is still not fully healed yet. So I cannot sit or stand for a long period of time.
4) My leg needs elevation all the time actually. Or else the feet will swell up like elephantitis (it once did).
5) Only God knows the pain I bear beneath my smiles (plus makeup and nice clothes.....).
Yes, I am very glad if you can detect my displeasure from above.
I do say my mind openly. But i shut my mouth and stay silent if the situation does not permit anyone to lose face.
So as to say, I was really %@#*ing pissed at a recent ceremony. At the inconsideration of certain people who probably never understood the significance of crutches.
I don't need sympathy, I just need people to be considerate of my condition.
Some people just need to grow up. Desperately.
Of 23 and 27
The reason for my second entry of the day is extremely obvious: I'm dying of boredom here.
Since my previous entry was dedicated to The Cow, this shall be more of what everyone can enjoy reading about... well, not really everyone.
I wish to state my long-overdued complaint about the Football Channel aka Channel 27 of the SCV.
Its extremely idiotic, complete with the bad receptions that ESPN rarely had, and the worst thing ever... James Morrison and Co.
Watching Football Focus on ESPN just now, I realised how much I missed John Dykes and gang. Their discussions remain intense, objective and could keep non-fans of the mentioned teams even glued to the programme. Whilst Shebby Singh was extremely irritating last season, suddenly his irritating words came as a welcome to "normality" (this is partly due to him declaring that Liverpool would win the BPL this season). And just now, together with Ian Rush and Steve Macmahon on the show, it felt so complete. Even their non-fans would end up listening to all commentaries because of the seemingly seriousness of the whole discussion about the different teams.
Even if there isn't Football Focus, there is the Nokia Football Crazy with Kui Jien and Jamie Yeo as their hosts. The show that focuses on the wackiness of football fans who would appear wearing their teams' jersey to pledge their allegiance to and go through a series of games of fun. Sheikh Haikel has never sounded as crappy as before with his undying love and support for Liverpool.
The 2 football shows that makes me smile or laugh as always. Or bang my forehead hearing negative forecasts.
Its at this point of time that I wish to kill Starhub for making the lives of BPL fanatics miserable with the existence of Channel 27.
The stupid commentaries given by James Morrison, some irritating face of a bugger, are never strong enough to capture the fans' attention. When half-time commentaries were always welcomed, now its a time when my dad switches channels. Nothing they say would keep us glued to the channel.
Maybe its the lighting at Dubai, like what Glenn Ong said on the Morning Express.
Maybe they just can't attract the best-looking commentators like Jamie Redknapp *drrrrrrooooooooolssss*.
Maybe they just can't get legends like Ian Rush to cross over from Football Focus to Football Channel.
Or maybe, its just James Morrison who seemed too easy-going to host the show, like he's never serious enough about the whole football thing.
If this keeps up, its really not good for the newer football channels.
For the fans too. We'll keep complaining... via the Morning Express to Glenn and FD.
PS: The writer is extremely annoyed at the obvious favouritism of the Football Channel that telecasts MUTV, Chelsea TV, Barca TV and missed out on LFC TV totally. Even the Thais can afford the programme...
Labels: Liverpool
A Year in the Life of Steven Gerrard
The Reasons
Many times, I run into personal comments of friends that revolve around them not reading this blog, mainly because I sound too vague in my entries.
I am known to be a person who has a reason for everything... well, almost. Which is a big cause to not pick any argument with me as I will provide any form of excuse for every bit of my actions... which boils down to me being a headstrong person.
Coming back to my vagueness in most entries, I ascertain myself as not being comfortable enough to provide the details of my life in this public domain. I'd prefer keeping my opinions as objective as possible (that does not apply to soccer anyway) and stay away from divulging too much of personal emotions.
Blame it on bad experiences. In the world of blogging, you can't win everyone's hearts; this is what you call yin and yang. For every positivity, there is the negativity to deal with.
In other words, dealing with judgements that are unjustifiable was what I have hoped to avoid with my current style of writing.
I stay away from penning down my love life. Being both a heartbreaker and getting my heart broken are enough for myself to handle. But of course, musings about the past is inevitable; its the only way to keep myself sane after everything I have gone through.
I am going to give an exception this time. I'll provide the brief reasons of the existence of my "Strike-off List".
- I would hope to not date anymore ex-schoolmates. This is highlighted by the fact that any guy from my batch would know about an infamous past relationship of mine due to an ex-boyfriend who hailed from every school I went to.
- I would hope to not date anyone who supports other teams than Liverpool. Being an ultra-sensitive maniac about my favourite team, I hate being taunted at for supporting the "worst team in the BPL", or so, in their own words.
- I would hope to not date a guy who is shorter than 1.7m tall. It isn't about being superficial about not being able to wear my heels but I do feel extremely awkward if he isn't taller than my younger sister. By the way, sister is all of 1.69m (figures rounded down) and hence my yardstick of 1.7m.
These main 3 items of my "Strike-off List" have been provided with some kind of leeway, of course, if the guy's worth it. :p
I know I sound like a diva with these demands but I just can't seem to help it. Sorry.
Another big part of my life revolves around my friends. Maybe I've attracted some negativity that feel my friends can be too good to be true, or I just exaggerate the truths behind our friendships.
The truth of how I've maintained my undying friendship with these few people is that I simply managed to keep the backstabbers and hypocrites off my back over the years. Yes, dealing with these people isn't exactly the rosiest thing of my life and I was driven to many corners at times by their actions. But looking at the positive impact, I know whom to keep out of my inner circle. I don't really die without them, in fact, my life goes on better without them. So, what's the point of keeping them, right?
I would not deny that I have made some undesirable relationships in the process, what not, with my ever-so-upfront comments. You can partly blame my dad in passing those genes to me; I say out my displeasure the moment I get agitated with something.
Yesterday, a close friend suggested I should write a book. Its tempting but like I've said before, I am not blessed with divulging too much of my life. Even if its fiction, I am not equipped with the art of spinning tales like some backstabbers.
Yet, I hold a dream of writing a column in some magazine, hence my pen name being Ryu Arashi. That is the biggest reason for my style of writing. I wish to be like Carrie Bradshaw, except you won't read about any sexual experiences like hers.
ANYONE GOT LOBANG???
The Signature
In case you think I have lost my 'signatured' touch to penning about soccer... Heh! Sorry! Too bad!
Ok, the best birthday present was definitely... Mr El Nino's goal. Oh yes, I could include an orgasm seeing the hottie snug it in between the defender's legs. There must be some form of magical chemistry between him and me that he KNEW it was my birthday so he got match-fit and scored it for me. I knew there was telepathy. :)
There you go, my favourite over-the-top paragraphs about whoever I swoon over in Liverpool. You can't really blame me, can you? After all, the Barclays Premier League has been my permanent form of entertainment on weekends.
There is an upside of being incapable of spending my weekend nights outside. I catch up with almost every other game... that doesn't bore me. Of course, that includes me leaving the tv set after seeing Ronaldo kick in 2 goals no thanks to the stupid Blackburn defence.
On another hand, I'm so happy to have made more soccer-smsing friends this season. AZ had the sudden turn of allegiance to dedicate himself to watching Liverpool when I could have sworn there was one time he was telling me to give up on them. EE, an ex-schoolmate, and a Man Utd fan, is the one who irritates me about the strength of his team. So I channel that irritation to a former student of mine, Romeo, who loves and adore Arsenal.
But of course, no Chelsea fans among this smsing thingy.
No chemistry probably. Either you have it or you don't (I'm sorry, I like stealing lines from Grey's every now and then).
By the way, I am quite irritated by the WAGs section of the Newpaper. Some of the ladies there declare their affection for whichever team their men supports (Man Utd mostly, no second guesses) and they barely know the freaking game. This only strengthens those male chauvinists' opinion that women who watch soccer only watch the guys. Yeah, whatever. Hello ladies, at least know what a penalty is. Don't drop my waterface.
And of course, that section also gives me the only reason of frustration that I am unattached. It was so made for me, my team, my favourite players, my inspirations...
I would have made a perfect WAG for the Newpaper.
Labels: Liverpool
The Butterfly Effect
The phrase refers to the idea that a butterfly's wings might create tiny changes in the atmosphere that ultimately cause a tornado to appear (or prevent a tornado from appearing). The flapping wing represents a small change in the initial condition of the system, which causes a chain of events leading to large-scale phenomena. Had the butterfly not flapped its wings, the trajectory of the system might have been vastly different.
I hold in great awe to this movie attributing to the phenomenon. It was not only about how Evan tried playing God by changing his past, but for the main reasons why he did so.
By the way, I had taken a module explaining about the chaos theory mentioned above. I slept through most lectures, complete with falling notes following slipping desks, yet only listening closely to that particular lecture about this theory.
We often ask ourselves, what would and could have happened if we were to be that butterfly.
If I were that butterfly, I'd flap my wings to knock me out of my deep thoughts that led me to my accident.
But then again, if I was never knocked down, I'd probably never known how much my family and friends love me. :)
There can only be repercussions if we were ever to alter the smallest bit of our past.
Still, it keeps you pondering over which bits you want to change for the sake of someone you love, be it a lover or family member.
But of course, like they say, everything happens for a reason.
And as to how AZ loves saying this, "That's life."
