The Second Summer of the Sisterhood

I was just reading this book this morning. It was written by Ann Brashares. I read the Indonesian version of course. They brand it TeenLit, meaning Teen Literature. The four main characters: Lena, Tibby, Carmen, and Bridget; are teens. The book told their second summer after they found the sisterhood pants (read the book for more explaination). Even though they are teens, their stories somehow resonate to most people's stories. Me, a 23 year old woman, even thinks it's a good book.

But I'm not talking about the book here. Well, it started when I was reading it. I was reading the story of Bridget, who visit her mother's hometown to find and get to know her grandmother. And it dawns to me, as I was helping my dad close the gate and the garage door, that I don't really know much about my dad. I was looking at his pair of badminton/tenish shoes, thinking why he bought them. Does he play tennis? If yes, when? And with who? Despite the reason why he bought the shoes are clear (to play tennis), but the latter questions haunted me. When and with who? Then I realize I don't much about him. There's a lot of his history that I don't know. I usually found out about it when it already happened for a while (could be for years). Like when he went to India. I didn't know about it untill he told my sister, then my sister told me. I also didn't know that he had pilgrimage (sp?) until my dad told my mom, then my mom told me. I'm almost totally clueless about him. I also didn't know he actually played football (soccer) and was a star. But an injury forced him to retire. I know bit of pieces of his life...told years after it happen. I understand if they happened before I was born. But the things happened after I was born...it shouldn't take years.

I sort of the made a promise to get to know my dad a little better. Just now...the promise fade away. Just because he told me to change the channel (I was watching Powerpuff Girls), because he thinks that 'it has no benefit'. A sense of rebelness take over. What about happiness? What about joy? What about enjoying myself? I linger a little on the channel (in case you didn't guess, it's Cartoon Network), but a stroke of fear overtake me. And I flip around the remote, changing channel. Then I realize...I still fear my dad's wrath of anger. No, no...he wasn't abusive. But I did have several bad incident involving his anger, which turn out to have more impact that I thought. I'm still affraid to invoke his anger. And I still fear that it would be a heavy one.

My super-quick analytic ability took over. I over-analize everything...it's a habit, a not-so-benefitting one. I analize why I still like cartoons (like any other people), why I still fear my dad, why I couldn't stand up to him, etc. I also quietly say inside my mind that even though he tries to have new visions, thinking outside the box, he still puts me in a box. Since I'm his daughter, I should follow his guidelines. Being 23 years old means I'm an adult. An adult is not suppose to like cartoon. Because it doesn't give you any benefit. Then I see through all his effort all this time...he was trying to make me an adult as early as he can. My mom told me about this several times : 'He was just trying to make u independent, just in case. Because you are the oldest daughter'. Unfortunately...his plan and efforts had backfire. I'm maybe 23 years old...but there's a child screaming inside of me. Knocking my conscious with all her might. The age may be right...but my emotional age is not. I don't feel like an adult...I don't want to be one. I don't want to get older. And by that, all the efforts backfire. Instead making me an independent, responsible adult...I'm almost the opposite.

...It just backfire...

...Am I depressed?...

...Yes, totally...

At the moment...

I'm thinking how one of my unwritten-but-exciting stories ends, I realize that giving up is really hard to do. If I was to surrender to the lost of the fight, start the journey home to the man-who-will-accept-me-as-I-am with my tail between my legs...It would be somehow a very tragic defeat indeed. I am such a fighter inside, but somehow that spirit doesn't translate outside.

...

Or maybe it's just because this anxiety that I have after a very surprising and shocking accident at Silverstone, which unfortunately was involving Trulli. Luckily, he is unhurt and ready for the next race. Damn it...I could've had a heart attack.

The year of the underdogs (Euro 2004 review)

Aaaaaargh!!! I cannot believe it. Czech Rep lost to Greece for a single silver goal. Okay, the tournament has officially became suck. Now what excuse do I need to watch the final? Portugal? Greece? I don't even know them. Oh gosh, this year's tournament been so kind to the underdogs.

The upperdogs mostly been eliminated, except for Portugal (they're the host, so they have the benefit of "host syndrome"). Italy and Germany didn't even make it out of the group phase. Italy was stopped by Duo Nordic, Sweden and Denmark. Italy's performance was...well, a little poor. They didn't live up to their reputation as the 'football nation'...the nation with the best football league. Italy did two in-a-row draw and a win, but to a bitter end. They were...stumped by the Duo Nordic draw performance. Germany also didn't live up to their reputation. But I can't blame them...they were at the hellish group with Czech Rep and Netherlands. The competition were stiff, and one of them got to go home early.

Moving on to the quarter finals, England was beaten by Portugal after a dramatic penalty shootout. England media and fans blamed the loss to the referee, the likely scapegoat, for giving the Portugal a penalty when the Brits are winning. Making the match end in a 2-2 draw, forcing the Brits to go into extra time. I also heard that some sportcaster has became so irritated that he crosses the journalism ethic (source: Forza Juventus mailing list). What a sore loser. Anyway, the next upperdogs that fell down the drain are France, who lost to Greece for a single goal. The coach claimed that exhaustion is the reason. Well, at least they don't point their finger to the referee (like some team). That would be the sooooo cliche.

Overall...it's been disappointing! I have lost interest since the first Italy's match. The poor performance and the spitting incident has left me cold...and yearning for my sleeping time. But since Euro only happens once in 4 years (thank god it's another four years from now), I kept on watching. And like I've predicted, it didn't fail to disappoint me. The upperdogs fell flat on their faces and the underdogs rules. But the salute goes to Greece, who has advance so far without any some sort of tricks (Well done, greeks!). The big award of unsportsmanship goes to the Duo Nordic, Denmark and Sweden. And the sore loser award goes to the Brits (Yes, it sucks to lose doesn't it?).

The final is approaching the end is near. But I already putting my nightcap on and my slippers off. I'm (so) ready to say "farewell Euro 2004, welcome World Cup 2006".

Disclaimer: Offended? Well, bugger off. I don't take nasty harassments. Decent comments are welcome though.

What??

Oalaaaaaaaaaah...bagaimana ini tooooooh? Kok nambah links jadi error gini? Kok nyingsul sih header-nya? Apa emang gak boleh ditaro di bawah profile-ku toh? Yah, kok ndak bilang2 siiiiiiiih? Oladalah, jadoknya (jawa medok) keluar. Ya weis, ntar diganti tempatnya.

*back to normal*

Okay, this day almost down to suck grade. No Oprah magz yet. The Age of Mythology CD didn't work (musti beli baru...wualaaaaaaah). The header for my added link is...crooked.

*relapse*

Wadalaaaah, gak ada yg bener.

*back to normal*

Okay...need sleep. Need sleep. Better go to sleep now. Sleep. Sleep.