This is the year I turn cynical 20.

I'm going to be 20 in another 2 weeks. If you're wondering what I want...get me the man's autobiography 'Anatomy of a Winner'. If you get me that, I'll be your slave for a year. Seriously.

I don't break my promises. Then again, I'm not that picky, buy me anything you please...as long it's not undies-lah okay.


This year, I've become somewhat cynical towards things in life.

The things I used to be so excited about before have now turned into dust.

Merdeka. Family. Happiness. Life. Love. Marriage. Promises.

Yeah, they've all turned into dust.

I'm glad I am...otherwise I'd still be the girl in the French plait who believes that life is a bed of roses.

I'm no longer that girl. I'm the cynical nearly 20-year-old.

*****

I was watching Curious George again. And I cried. Stupid monkey.

Because Ted's yellow outfit reminded me of the away kit of doom, which reminded me of Jose and Chelsea.

And I cried. Horrible okay, I cried watching a cartoon. What am I? 5?


"You talked about cracked eggs and the next day he talks about cracked eggs. Is he secretly reading your blog?!"
I cried again when I saw that message which was sitting pretty in my inbox for the last three days.


Every single thing I see triggers the worst kind of emotion and it makes me sad.

The medals he threw into the Matthew Harding stand.
The grass-sliding move in Nou Camp.
The 'keep your chin up' move at the Emirates Stadium.

Have you seen your manager do something like that?!

How can you throw all that away and let him go! 6 trophies in 3 seasons...pretty good feat right? Of course, we've not landed the Holy Grail of Europe yet...but still!

Why sack him before a crucial game?
Why?
Why?

And the worst part was, he promised he'd be there until 2010...which would mean I could've actually stalk him by the time I get to the UK (I'm only getting there after July 2009 anyway).

Now they've robbed me of that chance (random note, I accidentally spelt 'robbed' as 'robben' earlier)!

My Chelsea family is breaking apart.
This is beyond sad. Even Will Young can't save me.

I doubt his shoes can be filled. Not even Fergie can.

*****

There's a sundae in my fridge and it's calling me to eat it.

Which I will do in a bit.


Oh look, one new text received!
"I'll buy you roses, paint them red, then I'll take you shopping"

Yes, please! Why weren't you born a boy?!