of green balls and sweet spots

a few things came to light today at tennis:

(from here)

1. i blink when i hit the sweet spot
2. my shoes are in a dire state of disrepair
3. i need a new pair of shoes

(these are sooo pretty!)

4. i cannot return a spin ball
5. i always pull a muscle on my left thigh
6. tennis is like cycling; you only need to learn it once
7. but unlike cycling you need constant playing to be good
8. tennis skirts can be sexy as hell
9. i like to bounce the balls on my racquet while waiting

Fortyeight minutes past midnight

Twigs as wings on bone shoulders, with cotton balls/ feathers unripe/ forsaken flight.
(a photographic image of a girl standing in front of bare branches)

- "everything is illuminated"
(a thought-provoking answer)

I tried not to wonder but the attempt has rendered me sleepless. I think about not thinking and it has made me think even more. What made me happy has now made me sad.
(irony)

All that glitters...

...is gold. At least at the Oscars that is.

Golden is Sandra bullock who kept her humour and humility even after her best actress win.

"Did I really earn this or did I just wear ya'll down?"


She said she didn't aspire to win an Oscar; it wasnt part of her career plan. She also remarked that young actors shouldn't aspire to follow in her footsteps but to walk in their own shoes and be themselves.

And of course golden is her lovely dress.



Golden is Kathryn bigalow, the first female to snag the big win as best director. And the cherry on the cake is her film's best picture win. Ha. Guess who's feeling blue now?

Not so golden moments: oddball partner hosts whose flat chemistry was glaringly obvious; no statues for Up in the Air; painful tributes to best actor and best actress nominees (seriously??); and too little of Neil Patrick Harris (pls bring him back for next year).

Dog day afternoon

3:15pm. Afternoon sounds are interesting.

Piling at a construction site in the distance; drilling from another construction area; birds chirping; school kids shouting and playing...

At home the soft mechanical whirl of the fan; water running in the mini fountain; the clock ticking; the almost inaudible breathing of chloe and latte lazing on the sofa...

weird night things

night settles, and tonight i am feeling a little restless. the expectant air feels heavy, hard to breathe. i get like that on some nights and start doing/thinking random, meaningless things.  

i just discovered a dead moth by the window - i wonder what that means? i googled and yahoo-answered it but nothing concrete came up. guess it doesn't symbolise anything significant. 

snapping pictures of mr latte laying still on my lap, not giving two hoots to what i am doing, prolly thinking to himself 'sigh not again'...

snapping pictures of my hands for absolutely no reason at all while doing something totally inane...

snapping pictures of the new plant-in-a-jar project the husband just started...

staring into space "..."

wondering when we will ever finish the lunar new year snacks... 

thinking about how funny the hbo series 'bored to death' is. Jason Schwartzman (Jonathon), Zach Galifianakis (Ray) and Ted Danson (George) are brilliant.

(from here)

Leah: I'm proud of you for going to therapy. (kisses Ray who doesn't kiss back)
Ray: I'm sorry, I can't tonight. That guy eviscerated me. My penis is totally recessed.
Leah: What?!
Ray: When I was a little kid, I used to like to push my penis in to make it look like it disappeared. Today, it happened all by itself.

Leah: I don't feel good about this. I don't want you to be a sperm donor.
Ray: But it's flattering. They're fans of my work. I've never had lesbian fans before.
Leah: They should go to a sperm bank. You can't just give your sperm to two girls you met in a cafe.
Ray: I met you in a cafe.

George: I'm very oral nowadays. I feel like I'm... half-man, half-infant.

Jonathan: Oh my God, what the hell happened to your lip? You were stung by a bee?
George: Yes. A bee with herpes.