honest to blog

the heat interrupts the slumber. after two consecutive days of creativity-needing exams, one would think that one deserves an upgraded stay on the premise of that castle on the clouds. dear sun, thou cometh too soon.

the day is sunny. and the nerves are begging for the long-promised caffeine. i’ve been a devoted abstinent during the week, for fear that i might get too restless and excited when seating for the exams for all the wrong reasons. besides, the skin needs moisture and hydration. and have i ever told you about that James Franco look-alike in my marketing class? now i have.

seriously not in the mood for sun today. it makes the mind lethargic. just like winter cold does. but it makes the mind lethargic, with extreme irritation. and though mostly placid, you wouldn’t like agnes under these circumstances. heck, she has even started referring to herself in third person. the cheerful manifestation of spring doesn’t make the being feel so thumbs up now. save it for post-exam, will ya? i’m gonna need a little lighting for some australian-economic-assisting-activity. oh shopping deity, pray hear.

for all who gives a damn, my sister in SF is actually planning a road trip to San Diego. she said the melting point of inferno would give a fun interlude to the freeze breeze of the Golden Bridge city. ha! kidding. she just, in her words, hasn’t been keeping up with the news. i so want to knock her head right now. i hope the insurance will do their job. for both southern Cali and my sister’s head. still, i guess the green notes won’t be able to replace the memories in the stuff.

i want to be a cat. i want to purr and stretch and strut my way to rest on a lazy saturday. meet me; i’m your cryptic friend. and cryptic friend craves the cappuccino.

i guess i’ll have to brave the weather. i suppose i won’t melt after all. we humans should get more credits than that. it takes some bloody long years of the exact proportion of everything to produce little you and me today. now, if i could just grab that cooling box for a while…

- random conversation of the day -

Kurt: that’s an interesting soul you’ve got.

Courtney: uh, that’s not my soul you’re looking at.

"those who can; do. those who can’t; teach." - someone somewhere somehow

this is the world of sweat, tears, and court dramas. where blings are made up of shoes, strings and titles. where proud parents gather and dreams are crushed. where departure is referred to as "hanging rackets"…

this, after all, is the world of junior tennis…where overseas sponsorship is the holy grail.

and those kids sure make it all seem easy on courts. i sometimes wonder how it feels like having parents and coaches and some random strangers lecture you on strategies and timing and all the shoulds when you are the one out there burning your muscles out. i believe that even if they try, the shoes won’t fit. and no offense parents, what’s with all the gatorades gracing your oesophagus throughout your children’s matches? i’m sure your kids would need them more. because last time i check, the homo sapiens burn more kilojoules running around hitting things than grunting and analysing on that little territory patch of yours by the courts. but the parents’ shoes are not ones i can walk in either. i wouldn’t understand, after all. got no kids on my own. so there, so much for all that. meh.

but every world has its stories. back in indonesia, there is that concerned mom who never forgot to make sure that her daughter re-apply her sunscreen on every. single. break. within. a match. there are always those parents who would spend times comparing their children’s bones and body-legs proportions. and the drugs…kidding, multi-vitamins, performance enhancer substances et cetera et cetera. lots of info are also exchanged on awesome masseuse, or to be professional, physiotherapists. drink this, eat that, do this, practise that. and there are always those kids who develop certain under-handed strategies in re-inventing the meanings of "out" or "fault". and there is always that girl who quits tennis because mom doesn’t want her skin to darken. pity, her games kicked ass. and besides, her skin tone is so light the worst she can turn into is a shade of apple red. and rumour has it that a player once quit because a parent of an opponent talked the player into it. ah, politics.

but i’d say i still enjoy watching these things sometimes. when my sis had that tournaments in melbourne, i made it a point to come as often as i could and assume her laundry manager role. besides, it’s not every day that you get to see some dude-looking fellas getting all worked up by some cute little boys whose heights barely reach their shoulders. the tournament system in australia is way better and one doesn’t have to wait all day for one’s turn as everything has been scheduled neatly. pwoper. convenient. which is why it such a pain to accompany my sis to her tournaments in indonesia.

and oh, the cute boys beat the dudes by 6-4, 6-2.

it was a day like any other day…except that i had to break into my own house. swell.

it was rather early in the morning (read: early morning in a uni student context, but moving on…) and i was doing my laundry. was about to go out and hang my clothes when i absent-mindedly closed the house door. big mistake. forgot that i didn’t have the house key with me. so i just went and hang fabrics before returning and get down to the business of ardent door-knocking. a few minutes went by and figured that the housemates were still in the land of buttery candy canes and unicorns. so i stood there and waited; if anyone could catch the forlorn look on my face. heh. then a lightbulb popped up. that chair that i’ve always used to hold my laundry basket. that window to my room that cannot be locked. that study table that is located strategically near my window. that house key that (maybe) was still sitting pretty on the said study table. got the chair. step on. open window. lift curtain. so the wind blew and the angels sang.

had the chair not been there (i’ve always wondered what a chair was actually doing sitting there). had the window been the locky-locky type. had i actually moved my bed to the window-side like i’d planned to earlier this semester. had the key not been located oh-so-strategically on the study table. had i not…it wouldn’t have worked out. maybe the stars were aligned to put me in such a cheeky situation with an even cheekier solution. maybe the cosmic force was feeling experimental. or maybe, oh i had a feeling, that God was just being creative…