My blog posts nowadays rarely narrate things that I've done. I used to be able to check up on the date I did certain things by noting the date of my posts, but the past few posts will be useless.

So, here it goes!

Last Saturday and Sunday I was shopkeeper. I got bothered by a creepy weirdo, but he went away when I told him I was married (har-de-har).

My grandma fell down and hit her head on Sunday morning. She had to get stitches, but my strong nenek's doing well =) Her house (as well as my auntie's house next door to hers) is being renovated, to expand the house and create a doorway between the houses, which is part of the cause of her fall. So the hall's pretty cluttered and dusty. But yay to a bigger house!

On Monday night, my mum, sister and I celebrated Nisfu Syaaban at Darul Takrim, which is a home for the aged. Good food, prayers, sermon and... more good food!

Tuesday... Wednesday... Thursday... the days melt and meld into each other in a montage of NCIS and Criminal Minds episodes, and housework. Oh, and let's not forget product pricing.

Helped mama out at the shop on Friday (yesterday). While taking care of the main bookstore during Friday prayer time, disaster of all disasters took place - the creepy weirdo from the week before passed by the shop, saw me inside, and made a beeline into the shop. When he was just about to start on the repertoire of questions that he slimeballs at every girl he sees, beginning with a "what's your name", I gave him the same answer: "YOU DON'T HAVE TO KNOW". Same as last week, he immediately turned and left. Weird, desperate, pathetic, creepy thing! I couldn't stop shuddering with leftover feelings of revulsion for awhile after that encounter. According to my cousin, he lives in her neighbourhood, and has been known to chase anything without a penis. Literally CHASE. Cases in point: 1) following my cousin on the mrt from Kembangan all the way to Dhoby Ghaut, including train transfers, just to ask for her number 2) chasing my cousin's neighbour, such that she had to run into the lift to get away. Like, WHUUTT?! And he wears the exact same dusty-looking red teeshirt the THREE times I've seen him. Weirdo, period.

Now, before I faint from the nausea of remembering those encounters, we'd better move on. I was one of the hundred-odd people who tried in vain to pre-book CN Blue CAT 1 tickets on Thursday night. This morning I'll be trying my luck again, in two hours. I'm so scared! I couldn't sleep peacefully all night; tossed and turned till about 4.30, when I realised that time passed by more slowly by trying to sleep, so I woke up to fill my time with more interesting images than that of the bedroom's dark ceiling. So here I am, wasting time by typing another blogpost. I actually had a nightmare about the ticket booking. Dreamt that I was just about to select the number of tickets I wanted to order when the number of available tickets just suddenly dwindled to nothing. And I was left staring despondently at the screen.

Hopefully it won't happen. I know my odds aren't great. Trying to buy four out of 36 tickets left, when several hundred people will be trying to buy it at the same time. But I've still got hope. And fear that I'll muddle it up. But mostly hope.

pleasepleaseplease....

Tidal Wave

Twitter's just like a mini-blog, isn't it? Except it's in real-time. And you can respond to someone way faster. So it's like SMS too. Except you can't bring it out with you. Unless you have it in your phone. So it IS like SMSing a blog in real-time thoughts. Hmm.

I'm rambling on and on, as I am wont to do when I have nothing specific to talk about. But now that I think about it, I ramble on and on even when I have something specific to talk about.

Rambling and rambles about rambling aside, I have been pretty busy these past few weeks. It's not a set schedule, though. I sleep and wake and eat when I want to, but there'll always be something I have to do. And now it's not just housework.

My mum sells costume and Zhulian jewellery in front of my granddad's shop (kedai Hj. Hashim bin Hj. Abdullah at Joo Chiat Complex) on Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays. I used to head there after school on Fridays when I was in JC, but between JC and the current summer holidays my visits had dwindled. Put it down to straight laziness and irresponsibility. During the past few weeks, though, I've become more helpful (I hope; wouldn't want to be a hindrance). I even opened shop on my own for two days last week while my mum was overseas. It definitely gave me a huge appreciation for my mother's efforts in starting up this little venture. I'm probably the worst salesperson there ever was - I hate having to speak to people peering at the showcase. I usually stand there quietly with what I hope is a pleasant expression on my face. But that's where I've been and will continue to be spending my time till school reopens.

Ramadhan, especially, will be a busy time. My mum'll be operating a stall at the Ramadhan Bazaar during the fasting month, and, unlike the current one, it'll be open everyday till nighttime. My mum hasn't hired any workers (unlike the past Ramadhan), so it'll just be me and her. I'll be taking over for my mum when she goes home to prepare for breaking-fast meal for my sister and dad, so it seems we'll rarely see each other at home during this time. What I'm most dreading is being there, where it will be hot and humid, while fasting, and having to deal with the hordes of people who usually throng the bazaar (especially the sort that'll cause trouble). T_T Even now we're busy trying to price and pack items that will be sold, and trying to plan for things we'll need.

I feel so uncomfortable when people praise me for helping out. I may be there out of my own free will, but it all comes down to guilt, because my mum's doing this on her own and I'd otherwise be at home slacking. So I don't deserve any credit at all. Plus I'm living off my parents, so it's only fair I help them earn the money, right? That's probably why I'm doing more housework without being told to. Like washing dishes and folding clothes and scrubbing the toilet. Because I'm free, and leeching.

At least I get to indulge in my everyday pleasures of NCIS and Criminal Minds on Fox channel. Nothing like good crime investigation dramas to keep me happy. Plus there're the three CSIs and Justified on AXN, Dream Team and 2Days1Night on KBS World, Nigella Express and Rachel Allen: BAKE! on Discovery Travel and Living and America and Australia's Next Top Model on Star World. Whatever will I do without cable TV? Like I tell my parents frequently, I need cable TV to pass exams!

Here ends a post without direction. Brzzz brzzz brzz.

World Cup is ending in less than 5 hours, and I'm sad. This tournament has been my life the past two weeks, after I came back from Malaysia where, surprisingly, not all matches are shown on TV1. In fact, the only time I watched the World Cup in Malaysia was during a teh-tarik supper where a match was shown on a huge projector. As soon as I came back home, though, I fell straight into the sleep-at-5am-wake-up-at-1pm routine. I've probably been worse than useless during this time, besides the usual clothes folding/ drying and sweeping. I stopped cooking nice things because I can't be bothered to plan and go out grocery shopping, so I've just stuck at cooking simple vegetable-ey dishes that we just eat with rice. It seems that I've been the most out-of-whack in my family, since I've caught all matches but one. No job or school to go to, you understand (yay), so I've made the late hours a routine.

Some nights I have to go at it alone, while everyone else sleeps, but my cousin Diyanah has stayed over a number of nights to watch matches with me, initially because my household paid through our noses to have the WC Channel (unfair of Starhub and Singtel), and then later for each other's company, when Channel 5 started showing the semis. Nothing beats watching football with family, except maybe watching football with family while having pizza, which we plan on having delivered tonight. And then the World Cup dream period will end...

I only managed to start watching WC regularly when the group stages were winding down and we were entering the Round-of-16. That, unfortunately, is why I, a connoisseur of male eye candy, didn't manage to appraise most of this year's teams. Such a waste. But I still managed to find a few gems here and there in the teams from R16 onwards, and a few durians as well. (Note: "Durians" are those specimens of the male species that don't look good at first glance, and whose taste will appeal to the palates of only a small portion of the existing human population. In this case, I am a part of that small portion of the global populace.) Spain, in my opinion, is undoubtedly the most good-looking team in the World Cup, but we mustn't forget other teams. Here are some standouts, according to Fina:

France's Yoann Gourcuff, 24

My only memory of him was him receiving a red card and being sent off, but anyone with eyes could see how really handsome he was, in the truest sense of the word. Kitted in France's royal blue, and with dark, slightly wavy hair, he looked like a romance novelist's dream; one could so easily imagine him as a French nobleman in the 1800s, in tan breeches, blue coat and silk cravat, his fashionably long-ish hair secured by a ribbon at the nape of his neck, strutting into a grand ballroom quite arrogantly as befits his high social standing. Ladies will swoon and flutter their eyelashes in his direction, but as usual he'll find them boring and silly and... I shall end the fantasy here, but you get my drift.

Spain's Fernando Torres, 26

He's the Golden Boy of football; mention his name to any warm-blooded female and they'll surely know of him. Blessed with dirty blonde hair, freckles galore and the cuteness of a week old puppy, he looks not a day over 18 (this cute button is actually 26!). Thank goodness for all of us ladies, he's decided to go for a shorter hairdo this World Cup. I always thought his long hair of the past EPL season did his face a disservice. Now he looks like the kind of boy you can bring home to mama, especially since, from what I hear, he's a good, religious boy too. One obstacle though: he's already married, and with a son to boot. Oh well. It would figure that someone like him would be snapped up already by some lucky lady.

The Netherlands' Klaas Jan Huntelaar, 27

Another young-looking dude, with a bony face that kinda reminds me of Kevin Bacon, except he's less skull-like. Admittedly, he has big teeth, but I still think there's something striking about this not-so-young man.

Slovakia's Vladimir Weiss, 21

He's not what you'd call conventionally handsome, but he has such a baby face! Literally! It's like someone photoshopped a baby's face onto his body! His big light grey eyes, smooth baby's-butt-cheek skin and bald head will make you think you're looking at a kid only 1 year old. I don't personally consider him eye candy, but he's someone worth noting for being so unique.

Germany's Mesut Özil, 22

Now here comes a "durian". People I've asked (my cousin and brother) adamantly state that he's ugly. They say he looks like a frog, or a newborn eagle baby, because his eyes looks like they're bulging. My cousin even (for comparison) said my brother looks better than him (barf!). But then there are others like me, whom I've found on the Internet, who think he looks adorable. And he is! There's just something that's attractive. Maybe it's his eyebags, or his skin, or a strange combination of all features set to attract only a select few ladies that somehow include me. But then, I've always liked the ones who are especially skillful and decent, like how Fabregas is king on the field, so masterful in the way he works the pitch, and yet has such cute stories of how hard-working and young he is (remember the Kinder Surprise and Coke story?). And how Jaebeom is spectacular in singing, rapping and dancing, yet so humble and respectful and loyal. Mesut Ozil is undeniably one of the brightest young stars to be coming out of the World Cup - the languid grace with which he handles the football and runs all over the field is exciting to watch. And he's also Muslim, which seals the deal for me. A skilled and decent man. So, so, SO unfortunate that he's engaged, to an older gal (I'm just being mean - she's only 29. But still!). But since she's converted to Islam for Özil, I can't hate her too much. She must really really like him. (Note: I really did try to pick the most flattering pictures; the last one I liked because he's smiling. How cute!)

There are others I would have initially thought should have made the list, but have some reason or other for not being there:

From the Netherlands, Robin van Persie, who seems to have suddenly turned old and unattractive, and Rafael van der Vaart, whom I used to love to watch. Especially Van der Vaart. He's sporting some patchy scruff over his jaw and played so horribly the few times he came on as a substitute, that it kind of embarassed me.

From Brazil, Kaka. Sure he's one of the better looking ones on his team, but I think he's just getting too old for those set of looks to work anymore. Maybe a little sag in the facial skin? I don't know.

From Spain, my dear Cesc Fabregas, who has been a substitute in only a few games. He played so well when he was on the field, but for the first few matches he had some horrible beard thing on his face that made him look 35 instead of 23. He's only recently shaved and returned to my cutie pie again, but it's a little too late for him to make the list. Pity =(

How Cesc looked for the most part of the World Cup.

How Cesc should have looked like for him to make the list.

From Paraguay, Roque Santa Cruz. Hotness in the EPL, but for the World Cup he sported long-ish hair that was parted in the freaking middle. The biggest of all hairstyle no-nos for men. Such a waste. You can see how obviously good-looking he could have been. Also such a pity.

His greasy look just doesn't cut it.

See how much better he looks now?

And there you have it. My thoughts on the 2010 World Cup in terms of eye candy available. Of course I may have missed out on others, or you may question my taste in men, but it's an accurate representation of what may or may not seem attractive in my eyes. Now let's go watch football and eat pizza!

fina

p.s. it's weird how over half the North Korean squad (14/23) seems to have been born between 1985 and 1990, and yet most of them look old. The '90-er especially, looks 30! It must be a conspiracy of some sort! Or my brain's just rubbish. Can't deny the latter...

So it seems I've been too lazy to update blogger or twitter or facebook since my return from the short vacation in Malaysia. I've been meaning to, but I just can't find the motivation to sit in front of a computer screen with the sole purpose of uploading pictures and recounting my experiences/ feelings.

Not that the vacation was not fun; it was. Definitely. But the fun I had didn't come from doing fascinating, unusual things which I would normally very excitedly blog about as soon as I arrived home. It was from simply being away from home, eating out all the time, and living out of a suitcase (or luggage, since not too many people use suitcases for travelling nowadays).

There's just something inherently exciting about coming to a hotel, never knowing what exactly awaits you in your room, even if you've stayed there more than three times before. It's especially thrilling when you realise that the room's even better/ bigger than you remember it, and you open up the drapes to a view of the city, the sea, and the Eye on Malaysia. You unpack your luggage (or not), and then try to nap to make up for the few hours of travelling in a car from the previous hotel a few states away. You slip in between familiar and comforting crisp white sheets, and your eyes drift close thinking about how nice it is that hotels run the air-conditioning 24/7. In the morning, after a quick soak in the bathtub, you feast on a buffet breakfast or intercontinental food, something so unnecessary but vital to a hotel experience. And then you pack your bags again and leave.

"Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars..."

It's such a nice tune. It even appears in my dreams sometimes. And although Hayley Williams' voice doesn't sound very distinctive in that song, it's gotten so popular probably because everyone's always looking for a break from something in their lives. Unless you're someone like me, who likes the song because the tune is nice and the words are wistful/ wishy-washy/ quirky. Kinda like Fireflies by Owl City. Another nice tune. Wow am I getting a small headache now (my sister just sprayed Gapscent "Heaven" around my room and, though it smells nice, it's getting to me). I think I'll stop here.