Teacup.

I went to a post-graduate study information evening today and I’m…disappointed. Putting aside the whole minimum of B+ average in the appropriate course requirement, it’s the way I have to re-arrange my life around it. I’ll have to quit work, I’ll have to spend up to 12 ~ 13 hours a day, six days a week at the campus just to maintain my studies.

When asked how they are bringing in some money into their pockets, they said that none of them worked. If you want to, it’s best if they helped out with lab demonstrating to the under-graduates and maybe the tutorials. But that’s it, because otherwise, it’s too time consuming.

At this point in time, I’m not willing to let go of this current job. I’ve been working since I was 16 and this is the first decent place that I’m at. After working for a boss who thinks me working until 7:00pm daily is me being “unenthusiastic” and another boss who thinks that he can bully me, I am NOT going to be a fool and quit this first decent job I’ve even been at.

But I shouldn’t get my panties in a twist at the moment as I’ve still got two years to go and my grades are nowhere near a B+ average, let’s be honest here. Let’s be realistic.

The post-graduate students who came to talk today said that the study can be fun sometimes, and I have no doubt it will be fun as I enjoy my labs (sometimes). But at this point in time, the cons far outweigh the pros and I don’t think it’s worth it for me, personally.

Moving on…had another soccer game today. My team won…yay, we are celebrating. But why am I not in this joyous mood? I feel like a fake for reasons that is just too convoluted in my head to express here. I’m way too tired, way too irritated, way too crassed off…just…can’t be bothered.

I’m not too sure if I’ve mentioned it before but I’m part of a social soccer team arranged by my friend. I just came back from my…second grading game I’ve played.

The two really good players on our team had to be substituted today because they had other arrangements. Hence, I think we loss. But on the other hand, maybe the other team either cheated their way into our Grade 5 category…or they are the best team in the Grade 5 category. It was a mixed team category and so each team had to have at least two girls on field.

So the opposition had two girls and the other three guys were quite good. They were fast, co-ordinated and communicating. But they were also incredibly aggressive. This is a social category, NOT competitive. So please, put the aggression aside. Have fun, please be gentle on my foot.

I’ll be first in line to admit that I’m either THE worst girl on our team, or one of the worst. I feel like I am. I can get the ball from the opposition, but once it’s within my feet, I’m lost. I kick it to my nearest teammate. And sometimes, that is costly.

One of the guys actually said that I have to calm down. Once I get the ball, I have to calm down and think. Think. Where am I going to kick the ball. And it’s like, I am trying to think. But with the opposition cramping my style of thinking, I can’t think! I didn’t say this to him, of course. But I did take on-board their advice that once I get the ball, DON’T just kick it away. Stop the ball, and kick it in the direction you want.

But another person said that I am not the worst player because I get right in the thick of it. I’m “in their face”, word-for-word what she said. And I admit that I am slightly “in their face”. Because if no one is in the thick of it, who’s going to get it? My logic is, they see an opposition coming, hopefully they’ll lose their cool and…just kick it away. It’s better the ball be flying somewhere, than just being dribbled between an opposition’s feet. Then my teammate has a chance to get the ball.

Today’s opposition had a female teammate (as expected), who was a real fuck-face giver (unexpected). Read above regarding social category. One time I had the ball and was trying to fend her off, or maybe I was trying to get the ball of her, she kicked my foot incredibly hard. This was pains-and-needles feeling. It was painful. Not five minutes later, it happened again! It hurts. Really. I think one time, I accidentally ran into her or something, I said ‘sorry’ and she gave me a fuck-face worth an Academy Award nomination. I guess she might be pissed because the ball went away from her. Too bad.

Another time, I didn’t hear the referee whistle to stop and I accidentally kicked the ball away from her and she gave the dirty look again. Bitch, you bring that face to me, I’ll give it a nice reshaping it needs. Asshole.

All sore-loser-feelings and bitch-please aside, this was and hopefully continues to be a fun activity.

So I told my mother that we’d all go out for yum char this weekend (today) and that I’d pay for everything. I made the booking, we’re all excited blah blah.

Yesterday night…”Oh yeah, hehe, you’re paying for yum char. Oh goody!” Yes, I’m paying.

Today, before we left the house…”Oh, that’s right, you’re paying. Don’t forget your card!” Yup, I’ve got my card.

At the restaurant, just after we sat down. “Remember who’s paying, OK?” Yes, I know. I’m paying.

The first round of food comes and I wanted a prawn dish which was slightly on the expensive side, but we declined because she said that there’s a cheaper version coming. OK. “Remember, who’s paying OK?” Yes, I’m paying. Second round of food comes and mother is settled as she got some food.

Third round came and I was going to get two dishes of the prawns. She said only one dish and when the waiter left…yep, you guessed it. “Remember who’s paying OK? You’re paying.”

This went on for another few minutes until it was either tell her that I KNOW I’m paying, or walk out. The latter, I thought was incredibly…rude considering it’s meant to be her birthday lunch with the family. So the former, it is. “Mum, look, I know I’m paying so please stop saying that. I know I’m paying.”

Then she throws a big tantrum saying that she was just reminding me, helping me to be “frugal” and since I don’t want her to say anything (where the hell did I told her to shut up for the whole meal?), she’s not going to say anything. I can order whatever the hell I want, instead of letting her decide.

Great. It’s now suddenly my fault. Excellent. Then I told her that that was not what I meant. I’m just saying please stop repeating/reminding me that I’m paying. I know I’m paying. I’m not mute. I’m not jobless. It’s your birthday, it’s meant to be a family meal, I’ve budgeted $100 for the four of us, let’s just eat and let ME worry about how much it’s going to total up to.

She’s still throwing tantrum, I’m still trying to explain, and my dad is kicking my ankle (which is incredibly sore from soccer) and I just gave up. I told her, you do what you want, I told my dad to stop kicking my ankle because it’s sore, and I didn’t eat after that. Lost my appetite. So I rested my head on the window sill, and fell asleep.

When I woke up, dad already took the bill and paid for it.

I would feel bad about the whole thing, but I don’t. Why? Because my brother was also trying, in his own way, to tell my mother to stop telling me “who’s paying” and “you’re paying”. It’s not just me. I told my brother that to save myself this kind of trouble, I’ll just buy her a nice box of chocolate and be done with it, instead of having a repeat performance like today.

I’m sick and tired of trying to do something nice, and having tables turned on me. You want to do this, fine. But don’t do it to me. I’m sick and tired of always looking like the bad guy. At the end of the day, people in the restaurant thinks I’m the bitch. Great. Thank you very much, mum, love you too. ♥

Hrmph. It’s a bit unnerving when you go through your teen years never having a celebrity crush. Then…at nearly 22, wham bam! Hello, ma’am sir! I’ll give you a hint who it is. He’s yummy, he’s hot, he’s acted in all the Harry Potter movies. His name starts with a T and ends with ‘om Felton‘.

I’m not too sure whether I want to laugh it off or bury my head in the ground and never ever surface until it goes away. Whatever it is.

I can’t believe I did this…

Thanks to PSC, Pshero, Gnrbishop, DJSoundWav and InvisibleSnow for the making of the above. And of course, Tom Felton and Snitch Seeker for the incredibly lovely images of Felton. Forgive the shoddy skills at work. I haven’t made anything decent in Photoshop in oh, a good seven years. Took me two hours. The notes on the paper are my actual notes for university on I think, fertilization and cell regulation.

I was in a car with a couple of friends and we started talking about Harry Potter and they know I have this ridiculous crush-thing on Draco Malfoy/Tom Felton. I said when I see him, he makes me go hnnng. That’s pretty much all I can think of when I see him. And one of my friend said I should use that hnnng emotion, and channel it to soccer. Then maybe I can kick farther, and play better.

I think it’s because I’m currently on my holiday, not much to do except work and so my brain thinks it can toy with me. Just wait until university starts back up in a weeks time. Hah! By then, I’ll see a picture of Felton and I’ll be all “Yeah, he’s not too bad. No hnnng though.” Take that, brain! Just you wait!

Just one more sneak peek. He he he.

On a…another note, I’ve been accepted to the Quilting Bee. To be honest, I’m quite surprised as my pixelling skills are next to zero. But I’m hoping to…improve it over the…time that I’ll be there. I’m looking forward to it, to be honest.

This whole entry took me close to three hours. It’s now 2:45 in the morning. I have soccer practice in about eight hours time. I need to sleep. Batgirl, out.