……..that I pick up my car!!!

Woot..I have a car. Rather, I am paying for a car. Car’s not under my name due to insurance purposes..but loan is also not under my name, so I can still do a ‘runner’.So technically nothing is mine, I’m just contributing £150 to it….now I sound like lame-o.:/

Anyhoo..we have decided that Bacon will be in charge of all monetary issues like directing payment from our account to the loan. So being the first time loan-payer (does such a word exists?) that I am, I automatically moved money into our shared account so he can direct it as our repayment. Imagine my confusion when he kept thanking me for sending money to him. And then we started going out for meals every night this week…I was brought up on a weekday=home weekend=restaurants, so usually on a weekday we try to eat at home, saving all the MSG laden food for weekends, not to mention minimizing the costs of eating out.

Apparently I was conned – sorta. I thought we have to start repayments or whatever this month…but it’s not till next month. So now he has an extra £350 or so to spend (£150 for the repayment, £200 for the deposit)….that’s why he’s being so generous by us going out for meals.Cheh.

I’m just going to spend spend spend on his credit card then. That’ll teach him. Hmph..

I’ve not owned anything so ‘big’ before in my life…I am still in semi-shock.

/————————————————————————

Since my precious rings are still lost, I’ve been whinging to my daddy who took pity on his little girl and decided to help her out. Bacon was speaking to a collegue about how irritating I had become ever since I lost the rings, and the collegue came up with a brilliant idea – he has a metal detector that he can borrow us!! All we need to do is set the frequency as per bacon’s ring to platinum, and it’ll do the work for us! Yay! And if it can’t detect anything, well, that means it’s gone forever..:(

It’s just typical isn’t it? I get so hyped up about it that I left BOTH cameras at home. Sibeh toolan.Decided to take only my digicam with me, so left it to charge together with the Pod.Took the Pod with me, left the camera.Grrrrr..

Got up at 6 yesterday and got home only at 11..I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck. Arrived in London at 9, we promptly took a long walk to where we wanted to go..about 2 tube stops away.I slept through most of the intro session..I was so so tired and they were so so boring!Abit useless to send me huh…

By the time we finished at 2.30pm, I was a complete wreck.Pammy don’t even start class till 3pm, so I took the tube to Oxford circus, where Topshop is all three floors of parkson put together. Nice. It was intermittent rain/sunshine/wind…welcome to England.I had three layers out which I keep changing into and out of.Bought a GAP bag off discount at £7.99..bloody bargin.Popped into Esprit, Zara,Dorothy perkins, and ended up in a quiet cafe in Waterstones because I just couldnt keep going any longer..I was so sulky I just wanted to head on home..:((.Then Pammy popped in at around 4.20, and by that time I was like on crack with the coffee.

That woman pulled me around London buying everything.With her ’10 percent student discount arrrr!’ she proceeded her whirlwind shopping like as if she’s the one who live in Leeds and not me..hahaha! Went for a yumchar/bitching session and then continue shopping till 7..and my train was at 8.30, so I was in a state of panic.Forever confident, Pammy was of the opinion that I still have shitloads of time, so we went to a Malaysian restaurant around Leicester Sq and I had the prawn mee…the nasi lemak didn’t look very nice.But I kinda regret not ‘tapau-ing’ the nasi lemak..i know I crave for prawn mee too…and let me tell you, it is very refreshing to burp prawn mee (or in penang, hokkien mee) and not roast beef!! Hahaha yes, I’m disgusting,so what?

At 8pm, we ran for the tube, just to end up in the wrong one and going back to catch the correct one. At 8.20, we arrived at King’s Cross, whereby she was off to a different tube to get her home and thus began my mad rush out of the station.I was under the assumption that the tube and the trains are connected…and imagine my suprise when after 5 mins of brisk walking aka jogging, I got out of the station right on the streets of London. EH? Where is the goddamed train station!?!?

5 more minutes to go, I saw a woman running…so I happily followed her running, hoping that she’s trying to catch a train.Which she is.I ran into the train as the doors were closing..bloody lucky considering that if I came in the wrong side of the station it would’ve taken me another 10 mins, but as luck would have it, I ran through the doors straight onto the train platform.

And so goes my second trip down to london..:).We’ll be going for a weekend later in the summer…and no more rushes that time!!

me is going to london.Big bright city lights, paranoid people, thick smoky smog…I like

I have a conference around Euston/Kings’ Cross area next tuesday, and boss had kindly given me permission to wander around London, as the conference finishes at 3pm.

Where to go??Where to go?? I will probably only have like 2 hours with a free pass on Zone 1 metro. Meeting fellow KL party animal after her classes at 6 (so happy!!had not seen her since last August!), and probably hop on a train back soon…last train leaves at 8.05pm, so not much time. Might wander around snapping pictures whilst waiting for her to finish, or like the last time I was there, take picture of all the metro stops.I hope it don’t bloody rain.Probably be in proper business suit with heels..so might try to bring some sneakers to change into.

Any suggestions? Its time like this I miss louyau and his hilarious blogs..:((

Dear football

I am officially conceding defeat to football. Yes, I lose, you win, happy boh ???Now go away.

Being stuck in an office of men, my lifelong curse continues. It started when I was 3………

The Daddy
He used to bring me to footy matches when Penang plays against whatever team. Happily I went, content with my kacang putih (roast chickpeas) that the kacang putih man will roll up in a newspaper cone. Ball? It was more like a feast.Then came the late night FA Cup matches..I could never understand why he don’t want to go to sleep, TV when also can watch what.

The Brother
Screaming around the house 24hrs a day at the sounds of the whole family taunting him ‘gila’, this wannabe sports commentator trudges on..like he had been for the past 10 years. Rain or shine, come or go, win or lose, match or no match, he talks to himself non-stop in his make believe world of an endless football game.Of course, no make-believe would be complete with the kicking of the invisible ball like a spider on crack…which is eerily similar to The Daddy’s favourite hobby of the invisible golf ball.

When he started kicking my basketball in and out of the house and dutifully killing my mother’s flowers, we seriously considered sending him to the nearest Hospital Bahagia, or otherwise known as the local happy mental institution. Preferably one where they treat football-titist.Or any sort of ball-titist for that matter.Failing that, I started sleeping with hidden balls underneath my bed.The last I looked, there are about 5 different variation of a pretend football underneath my bed.

Until today, everytime we speak, he would be asking for a jersey.Like a 2 year old child endlessly asking for candy. When he was 10, he got my father’s business contact to get him a Ajax jersey from Amsterdam. When he was 12, he conned my mother’s friend who was living in England for a England jersey. Then when his sister grew up, he conned all her boyfriends to buy him jersey, threatening them that he will not approve of them otherwise. They silently complied, kissing his already fat ass. Then the sister started to travel to UK…and every trip had been filled with some sort of football paraphenelia…including a picture of his beloved Highbury ground, the home of Arsenal. Which he did not appreciate since I did not buy him a jersey from there.

But his one coveted item still alludes him…the arsenal jersey with Henry tattoed behind. Boohoo..after Arsenal’s loss yesterday in the Champions’ cup to Barcelona…the price might just come down to humanly affordable.

The Bacon

This is the worst yet. Ever. Not only he plays football (or chases after the ball aimlessly like a donkey with a carrot), he watches, he has season tickets and he wears football gear..stinking up the whole house when he takes the sweat-unfriendly gear off

This weekend the Bacon is heading towards Cardiff…5 hours away, for the match of his life.The playoffs (as discussed here) finals…Leeds has at last managed to get so far. With tickets at £60 *gulp* , this better be good. There had been pleads on online boards for tickets…he managed to get his after a fellow mad friend/fan stood on the line outside the stadium for 6 hours.

And I can now hold a conversation in the office on the virtue of football.I can talk about teams, about different cup finals,different division, appreciate a good goal, understand the jubilation of a win. And berate the management for not installing a tv in the canteen for important games. Just in time for World Cup fever.

Yours sincerely,
football widow