Happy Monday
Lucky for me, I don't have a boss so I won't get myself into this situation.
Hehehe =)

Wickedly weird
I was tagged by snglguy to come up with 6 weird things about me.

1) I don't relish the idea of someone touching my feet. That's why I don't go for pedicures. I always cringe when the masseuse start to massage my feet.

2) My weird eating habits include picking out the raisins from raisin breads, pulling out the tomato and pickles from hamburgers, not eating the onions, bell pepper from ulam.

3) It is imperative for me that medicines need to be picked in their proper order. That is, from the top row and in consecutive order. Therefore when I see the way the meds were taken from this pile, it irritates me.

4) When I watch movies at the cinemas, I need an aisle seat. I also immediately stop eating popcorn once the film starts. I give the rest to my sister or if I'm watching alone I simply don't buy any popcorn. I have this tendency to think that hearing the popcorn crack in my ears would distract me from hearing the dialogue, well.

5) I like to reply to all my personal emails within an 8 hour time frame, once they are in my inbox. Then I get upset when I wait for days even months before they reply back. But in the past few years, I've mellowed a lot after I've learned to accept the fact that (a) people are busy (b) I am way down their priority list or (c) they are 6 feet under because I never hear from them again.

6) I guess this was harder than I thought. There are ALOT of other weird things about me which I am not ready to divulge, ever. I don't want to incriminate myself and tarnish my wholesome reputation, kuno. ;)

A disturbing incident
The other day, (Tuesday) my sister and I decided to finally watch the Pirates of the Caribbean movie at the Shang Cineplex. We have this really bad habit to always rush at the last minute. The film was at 3:40 pm. My sister was still parking the car at 3:30 pm. I decided to saunter ahead to buy the tickets and popcorn.
My sister caught up with me at the snack bar and innocently pointed out a couple who were having a fight. While waiting for my order of BBQ popcorn and iced tea, I glanced towards the couple, who seem to me to be in their mid 40s.

I witnessed the guy slapping his wife (I assume she was his spouse) several times. The poor woman starting crying, silently. You can just see the tears flowing down her face. They were huddled in a corner, not drawing attention to themselves. With tears flowing, she kept arguing with gestures when suddenly her husband hits her on the head with a bottle of mineral water. It was a very disturbing scene.
I don't think anyone else witnessed the incident. My sister only noticed it because she overheard the guy berating the woman.

I am definitely not a nosey person nor do I think it is my business to butt into other people's lives. So I refrained myself from asking her if she was alright. She was also using the ladies room after the movie ended. Yes, it just so happens that they also watched Johnny Depp swaggering about as Captain Jack Sparrow. Although, she had a calmer demeanor. No trace that earlier she had been physically abused by someone.

This is the first time I've witnessed such an incident in public. It is certainly not my place to judge them. But I know that if it was me in her situation, I would have stormed out. I just hope for her sake, it was an isolated case. But if they were so bold as to argue in public, I dread to think what she experiences in the privacy of their home. Perhaps, even on a daily basis.

*Shudders*

I am the ultimate procrastinator, yes I am
As you would have probably guessed by the title of this post, I still haven't gotten my monitor fixed.
I keep postponing the inevitable.
Simply because I'm not in the mood.
Think about it.
I need to carry my heavy monitor from my bedroom down the stairs to the living room. Then lose any sensation on my arms while I drag it to the elevator. I carry it while I walk to the parking slot across this building, huffing and puffing as I drop it in the trunk of the car. Of course, I have to carry it to the repair shop. Then same scenario when I get it back from the shop.
Ugh! How tedious.
Plus having to do this task in this terrible weather ultimately dampens my resolve.

So far I've managed to do just fine, thank you.
During the day, I go to internet cafes.
At nights, I sneak in on my sister's laptop.

I know I have to get it fixed eventually.

I can't keep coming up with excuses, excuses and more excuses.

Not a good sign
A few minutes after I wrote my previous post, my screen suddenly turned completely pink. A bright glaring shade of pink covered the entire screen.
My initial reaction was to tap the back of the monitor. Nothing happened.
My next reaction was to reboot the system. I waited with abated breath as it loaded. Same thing! The screen was still pink.
I told myself I better eat my dinner first before I start to cry out of frustration. Yes, I have been known to cry buckets of tears whenever I have techical problems with my computer.
Like that would solve anything, right?
I had dinner, watched TV, did the dishes as well as some ironing.

It is now 2:45 AM, I am using my sister's laptop to post this entry because the glare from my pink monitor is seriously making my head ache and hurting my eyes.

As the above cartoon states, now I will probably have more time to clean the house. A brief hiatus from blogging too while I scramble for funds to either fix the monitor or simply replace it with a brand new one.

A meme c/o Snglguy
Ok, here's how this works:
If you comment on this post, I will ...

1. respond with something random about you.
2. challenge you to try something.
3. pick a color that I associate with you.
4. tell you something I like about you.
5. tell you my first/clearest memory of you.
6. tell you what animal you remind me of.
7. ask you something I've always wanted to ask you.
8. pick a song that reminds me of you.

After I respond to the above mentioned 8 points in this blog, you will have to post the same meme and my response on your blog.

Here's what snglguy said about me:
Daphne> I was wondering where you were. But, now that you're here
Random: Your experiences while growing up and living in different countries as a diplobrat makes you one interesting individual.

Challenge: I would love to see you climb Mt.Everest. Hehe

Color: Blue. Because that's the color of your beloved French football team. Oh wait! That's also the color of the Italian team. Darn! Hehe *peace*

Like: I like that you always kept your faith in this country of ours.

Memory: I got curious with your name after you first commented on my blog a few months ago. I thought you were someone I personally knew from way back who happened to stumble upon my blog.

Animal: Somehow, Fish comes to mind because you have a picture of a Koi (or is it several kois?) as your screensaver.

Question: Will you ever think of settling down, or are you hell bent on staying single forever? Just asking.

Song: "La Vie En Rose" by Edith Piaf

My reaction:
Random: Yes I've been a wanderlust all my life.

Challenge: Eh climb Mount Everest? Geez what a daunting task!

Color: Yes Blue is my favorite color, indeed.

Like: Despite the fact that for 30 something years I've lived overseas, I was always proud of my kayumanggi skin. I never hesitated to tell other nationalities about the beauty of the Philippines. I guess it takes someone like me who was a stranger in my own country to appreciate what the Philippines has to offer to the Filipinos and the world in general.

Memory: hehehe well I'm sorry to disappoint you if you thought that I was someone who you personally knew way back.

Animal: Do fishes quantify as animals? But you're correct I did have a picture of a koi pond as my wallpaper. But nowadays,I have replaced it with a picture of Zidane. =)

Question: Wow good question! Realistically speaking, I doubt I will settle down any time soon. I'm not involved with anyone at the moment neither do I have any prospects on my radar screen.
But I'm also not going to answer that question with a cliche like "Sure if the right man comes along, why not?" I know I'm not exactly wifey material in every sense of the word. Long story, too complicated to explain in a single post. But I will go as far as to admit, I'm the one with the commitment issues not the guys. So I am better off being single. =)

Song: Oh great song! Edith Piaf's version is hauntingly passionate.

Of bedtime stories, shoes and 4 looong hours at a mall
Yesterday, I had several errands to do - go to the bank, pay bills (why does this task never seem to end?) and get the invites I won (see post below) somewhere in the Makati area. By the time I was done, I figured I might as well head over to Glorieta. I could have gone home first after all it was only 4 PM. But if I did, I won't go out again. I'm the type of person who once I'm out of the house, I prefer to squeeze in everything I need to accomplish for that day. I guess I need to work on being spontaneous. Try to be the person who runs out for some errand, returns home then later in the evening, s/he would venture out again for perhaps, the last showing of a movie. But I'm not like that so just deal with it.

There I was at the mall with 4 hours to kill before my sister (who was out herself attending press conferences and such) would meet me to watch 'a bedtime story'.
Of course, for any normal human being of the female variety, the mall would signify hours of shopping, pampering treatments and more shopping.
But I, on the other hand am NOT a shopaholic, never was.
So what did I do to while away the time?
I ate. Yes, I told you I am a glutton.
I had a Hungarian sausage sandwich at Delifrance.
Next, I had my Chocolate Frost at Figaro.
A few minutes later I satisfied my cheesecake craving.
For an early dinner, I gobbled on a piping hot ramen at that little Japanese restaurant (I forgot the name) right beside Cheesecake, Inc.

Oh but I did buy a pair of shoes. The only non edible item on my credit card, yesterday. Anyone who knows how tiny my feet are would also understand my frustration in finding appropriate shoes in my size without going to the kids shoes department store. So it was a miracle I found these pair of shoes which fit me perfectly.

Now about the M. Night Shyamalan movie, let me just say don't judge a movie by its preview/trailer.
If you truly appreciate the abundantly ingenious talent of Manosh (as I fondly call the director), watch it.
If you don't believe in 'meaningful' fairy tales, don't watch it.
But if like me, your primary reason to see movies is to find some hidden meaning to life. As well as try to figure out how that implication can in some way or the other may or may not shape my life as an individual then by all means, watch "The Lady in the Water". You will definitely savor this film in the deep recesses of your psyche.
Now if you don't get what Manosh was trying to tell you through this bedtime story because you are a total dumbass then please be do me a favor and shoot yourself in the head, ok?
Yes I am referring to you, the jerk seated beside me who kept laughing whenever Paul Giamatti stuttered in the film. You just didn't get it, did you? You are the only person who ruined my really long day of stuffing myself, buying shoes and watching a bedtime story unfold.

*Sighs*

Uyyy I Won!
I was pleasantly surprised when I got this email, yesterday at around 4:10 PM. Aside from the rare times when I get 4 numbers correct in the Lottery or the occasional T-shirts at raffle draws, these tickets has got me a certified film buff, simply giddy with joy, excitement and total ecstasy. =)

Congratulations Daphne **********!

You have won for yourself a "Lady in the Water" advance screening tickets for two in Glorietta 4, THX Cinema 3 on July 18, 2006 (Tuesday) 7:30 PM

Please claim your prize from July 17 to July 18, 2006 (not later than 5:00 PM) at: ********

Please bring a valid ID and copy of the email notification letter upon claiming your prize.

Funny ha ha
Yes, I do have a sense of humor, you know.
Even if my sister will give you several pieces of evidence to refute the above statement. I admit I got really 'pikon' (what's pikon in English?) whenever she would lambast my favorite football player about that head butting incident. We've argued endlessly well into the night about it. I invoked all the excuses in the whole wide world to justify his actions. She would irritate me by taunting that he does not deserve the best player of the Tournament award.

While I was reading about various topics ( movies, sports news, the invasion of Lebanon, other people's secrets) on different websites, I came across this cartoon on Time Magazine's website in their cartoons of the week section.



Hilarious!

Holy Shmolly
Not one but two of my favorite foreign bands are coming to perform in Manila on August 15 and September 4, respectively.

BUT.


I'm terribly broke.

Bummer!

A challenge
Last week, fellow blogger Toni of Wifely Steps wrote a "Getting to know each other" post.
I participated so she wrote this about me:

Daphne :
1. You are very well-traveled.
2. I challenge you to write about your first love.
3. Orange. Funky, bright.
4. I like your travel posts!
5. Posts on French cinema.
6. A butterfly. Sociable!

Now I'm supposed to write about my first love.
Hmm that is quite a challenge, indeed.
For the simple reason that I've always made a clear distinction between the guys I love(d) and the guys I've fallen in love with.

I'd rather post about the first guy I loved.
This was way back in 1980.
I was a shy 12 year old girl with low self esteem and an inferiority complex. I had thick eyeglasses, long wiry hair and I was thin as a rake - in short I was an ugly duckling. At that age, I was more into Nancy Drew pocketbooks, eating Marks and Spencer scones while listening to the music of Claude Francois, Michel Sardou and Dalida.

His name was John F. A fair skinned, freckled face boy with a JFK, Jr type of haircut of auburn color. He was a Belgian kid of Irish descent who spoke only a few words of English. John was my grade school classmate at L'Ecole de Saint Joseph (St Joseph school) in Brussels, Belgium.

Back then I was the ONLY Asian in my class. But I was a studious kid so I was always a honor student. I had classmates with names like Valerie, Sabine and Jean Pierre. Yet, I was isolated most of the time. I don't mean to imply that my classmates were racists but certainly there was a thick invisible wall that separated the Belgian kids from the children of immigrants like Moroccans, Africans and me, the only Asian.

But John was different. He was a kind hearted, good natured boy. He would call me up at home whenever I was absent from school to check up on me. He'd come over to our house to bring my homework from school. He would even tutor me when I didn't understand my lessons. A sweet and courteous boy with a staid sense of humor.
My mother, the gracious wife of a diplomat that she was would always feed him snacks which John would eat with gusto. In fact, I think he clicked more with my mother than he did with me. Doesn't it always work that way?

Anyways, you see back then at the young age of 12, I wasn't into boys, yet.
I was an awkward bookworm, geeky kid who was extremely shy. All I did was study really hard so I could get good grades. So for someone like John to shower me with attention and show genuine interest in my personality and my culture, I felt special and grew quite fond of the guy. We got to hang out together a lot, mostly in school or at my house. He would be my seatmate in class and would tease me a lot about being too serious and studious all the time. It didn't really develop into a relationship. I guess it was more of a mutual special friendship but I can honestly say he was my first love.
Well now that I am way much older, I can look back at those years with a nostalgic smile and access the situation as the first time I felt loved and I loved in return. Frankly, back then what the heck did I know about LOVE? Nothing at all.

But as most of my 'love' stories go, the moment we moved to another country, John didn't keep in touch much. Sure, there were a few letters exchanged for a couple of months but eventually it just faded into the dark abyss of oblivion. It has to be told though that If I had my way, I would still be in constant touch with all of my exes but for some strange reason beyond my comprehension, none of them have kept in touch with me after the 'disconnect' began. Oh well.

As for the first guy I fell in love with ... Well that is another sob story complete with tears soaked pillows and a lot of Kleenex tissues stained with what else but my salty tears. So I rather just let bygones be bygones and bury that sob story deep in the recesses of my memory warehouse.

I end with one of my favorite quotes:

"People will forget what you said.
People will forget what you did.
But people will never forget ...
how you made them feel."

The truth will set you free
Wednesday evening in a live interview on French television channel Canal Plus, Zidane finally reveals the reason why he head butted Marco Materazzi.



Actually, his explanation is more heartfelt in French but, I'm not in the mood to translate.

I'm still upset that France lost.

Pourquoi, Zidane, pourquoi ?
It was time to dim the lights.

Put the sign out on the door of room 664 at the Philippine Plaza. Plop into bed, switch the telly on to watch the World Cup dramatic finals.



What can I say?
I was pretty hyper and still stuffed from the dinner buffet.
I tried to tone it down a bit by drinking tea. Yet the excitement was at an all time high for both, me and my sister. She kept cheering on the Italian squad. I was screaming relentlessly at L'Equipe France to attack, attack and attack.

The first half was clearly Italy's game.
The usual tripping, tackling from behind, the pushing and shoving, the few attempts at Fabian Barthez's goal.
The referee conceded a penalty shot to France after Cannavaro and Materazzi tripped Florent Malouda in the penalty area.
Yes it was questionable, to say the least.
Zidane who was clearly NOT in a good mood from the start of the game, based on the frown pasted on his face took the shot.
He almost missed it but by some stroke of luck, it was deemed as a goal for France. A few minutes later, a header from Marco Materazzi gave the fans at the Naples stadium a chance to jump up and down with joy and Italy equalized the score at 1 - 1.

Half time - I was more subdued but kept arguing with my sister about the questionable penalty shot from Zidane. So I made myself another cup of tea to try to calm myself. It didn't work. Heh!

The whistle to signal the start of the second half was like a trigger for the French players to bring it on. So they relentlessly attacked and practically embedded themselves within Buffon's penalty area.
Several misses from Thierry Henry, Florent Malouda as well as Franck Ribery almost gave me cardiac arrests. The tension was gripping me like electric currents. A second goal from Italy was disallowed after Luca Toni was deemed offside. By the the end of the full time game, it was clear that both sides were already exhausted from the tough game. The warm weather with temperatures soaring at 30 degrees C didn't help either.

During the extra added time, Italy was obviously gunning for the penalty shoot outs showdown. While France tried to desperately score more goals. When Zidane's header hit the crossbar, I screamed with gusto. Quel dommage.

Of course, we now all know what happened during the last few minutes of the second extra added time. The horrible incident that first left us all numb. Then shock slowly kicked in as the replay showed us what the mighty Zidane was capable of doing when he gets provoked.
Several questions abound, there are no sure answers.
Why was Zidane so harsh? How could he do something that terrible? Is he mad, it is the World Cup finals! Was he provoked? Was it a racial slur that Materazzi spewed out? Did he rub Zidane the wrong way? WTF?

We can spend the rest of the month or the years to come just fielding endless questions. Speculations continue to muddle the mayhem that fueled up the incident. Several allegations of Materazzi calling Zidane, a terrorist or an Arab, maligning Zidane's family and even ridiculous tendencies of nipple tweaking are spreading like wildfire. It is really silly, if you ask me. I don't think Zidane should ever explain WHY he did it. Surely he has his reason. Whatever it is. It was his decision to self destruct. To ruin his reputation. To taint his football legacy. It must have been something really horrifying, he didn't care anymore if he lost his temper.

France lost NOT because Zidane was handed a red card BUT because Trezeguet missed the penalty shot. The youngster faltered. The ball didn't go into the net. End of story.

So Italy won! Fabio Cannavaro lifted the golden trophy amidst the triumphant joy of his players. The massive stadium was filled with white confetti. The fireworks lighted the dark sky of Berlin. At the end of the day, I'd say it was a game which befits a World Cup finals in a style we can truly expect from two powerful footballing nations, Italy and France.
Whether Italy deserved to win or which side played the better game is beyond the point. Only ONE side had to take home the honor of being the champions at the 2006 World Cup. Congratulations, Italia!

Top honors though go to Germany for graciously hosting the event. A really spectacular show. Good matches, great players, massive stadiums, 32 teams of qualifiers who all deserved to be there. Even the record number of cards handed, the nasty incidents which disabled players with painful injuries, the drunk hooligans arrested, the bad referees, the racism - all these are part and parcel of any World Cup event. Too bad it only happens every 4 years. I will surely miss staying up till the wee hours of the morning just to watch the games. I am looking forward to the 2010 World Cup in South Africa.

My final paragraph is dedicated to Zinedine Zidane. I want to thank you for being such a fantastic football player. For entertaining us with your fancy footwork, your masterful tactics on the field, your skillful display of your formidable talents. You are the main reason why Spain, Brazil and Portugal got eliminated out of the World Cup. That is no mean feat. I salute you and would eternally adore you as my favorite soccer player in the whole world.
Sans blague!

Salut Zizou. =)

Another hotel suite experience
My stay at the Hotel Philippine Plaza last Sunday (July 9) was pretty uneventful.

I took a long warm bath.


I took pictures
A view of the swimming pool from the balcony of my 6th floor room.

The Jumbo Floating Restaurant with the Manila Bay skyline in the background.

The calm sunset over Manila Bay.

Then it was time to get dressed for dinner at
Spiral.
The restaurant located at the lower level of the hotel's lobby. It is the mother of all buffets. It was a gastronomic feast of cuisine from all over (Chinese, French, Japanese, Korean, Filipino and Continental food).
Oh gosh, the dessert spread was a purely divine experience. Pannacotas, cakes, ice cream, pastries and fruits all enticing my sweet tooth.
I actually ate till I was ready to burst, really! I might as well, right? The price I paid for the buffet dinner is equivalent to a pair of designer shoes. I don't have Imeldific tendencies, so I splurge on food. As usual, I don't take pictures of the amount of food I stuff myself with. If I did you will see what a glutton I really am. Suffice to say, I had to suck my breath in to prevent the skirt I was wearing from exploding at the seams.
And I wonder why I have this non existent waistline. Go figure.

Bring it on.
Yes! The World Cup finals is on tonight.
Well, early Monday morning here in Manila.


My friend Philippe sent me this website.
It shows the designs on the footballs of all the 32 countries who qualified for the FIFA World Cup in Germany.
Great innovative concept!

Tonight, I will be here for an overnight stay.
So I can watch the games live at 3 AM.

Cue in the Pointer Sisters song.
"I'm so excited and I just can't hide it" =)

Tan-ta-ta-ta-taaaaan....tan-tan-tan....taaan-ta-ta-ta-taaaaan. TAN-TA-TAAAAN
After watching all the World Cup football matches till my eyes bled, I finally sneaked out to watch "Superman Returns", yesterday.
Superman is my favorite superhero.
He can fly.
He has X ray vision.
He saves every damsel in distress.
He rescues us from catastrophic calamities.
All that wearing a tight costume with a flowing cape to boot.
The film had good entertainment value.
It was a thrill to watch.
The familiar John Williams score.
The usual villain, Lex Luthor.
His alter ego, Clark Kent.
His unrequited love for Lois Lane.
The Daily Planet newspaper.
Everything you expect in a Superman film was duly accounted for in this movie.
But.

Honestly.

I guess I'm such a nostalgic fool.

Christopher Reeve will ALWAYS be my Superman!

Scam

From: Google AdSense
Mailed-By: google.com
To: daphnelaura@gmail.com
Date: Jul 1, 2006 6:22 AM
Subject: *Google AdSense Account Disabled

Hello Daphne *******,

It has come to our attention that invalid clicks have been generated on the Google ads on your site(s). We have therefore disabled your Google AdSense account. Please understand that this step was taken in an effort to protect the interest of the AdWords advertisers.

Publishers disabled for invalid click activity are not allowed further participation in AdSense and do not receive any further payment. The earnings on your account will be properly returned to the affected advertisers.

Sincerely,
The Google AdSense Team

I received the above email a week ago.
Since October 2005, there were Google Adsense Ads on my other blog. At the end of June 2006 I earned about US$ 101.56 and now they suspend my google adsense account? Wtf!!!.

Damn it.
I thought that Google was a reputable company.
I guess not.

Thanks for nothing!

Zisou


At his 'mature' age of 34, he is still brilliant. His feet are magical as he slides the ball. He effortlessly passes it to his fellow French players on the field. He has a high accuracy rate for his passes. He never hogs the ball. No wonder, he is adored for his skill and his tactical play. Now he delivered France to the finals of the World Cup on Sunday, July 9. It will be France vs Italy. My sister will be rooting for Italy while me well obviously there is no doubt who I will be supporting all throughout the final game of the 2006 World Cup in Berlin, Germany.
Vive Zidane.
Allez les Blues!!!

A funny UMBRO commercial

Anatomy of a Linden Suites room
I'm back again at my place. Phew! This commuting back and forth my parents place is really exhausting. Surviving on few hours of sleep doesn't help either. But something came up so I need to be within the city premises. This would mean I won't be able to watch the semi finals of the World Cup games, live. Bummer!
But I do have several options on where to catch the games as they unfold in the wee hours of the morning. Bahala na!
Anyways as promised, here are some pictures I took of my room at the Linden Suites. I'm too tired to come up with witty captions to accompany the pictures, why don't you just have a look see, ok?

A tiny hallway leading to the room


Sturdy wooden panelled door


Dining area which comes complete with an oven, a refrigerator, a microwave as well as a toaster.





Living room area with comfy couches, a study and a kick ass home theater system all encased in one big wood panel.



Inside the bedroom, you have a queen size bed with side tables on each side. In front of the bed there is another TV and a study table beside it.



Lastly, a fantastic view of the Ortigas skyline and its environs.

Early morning sunshine
2:45 am => I wake up to find out that our cable TV is out. According to the tech support, there is a brownout at their cable/satellite location.
*insert curse word here*

3:00 am => I log on to the Internet to read the play by play of the France vs Brazil game. My sister's laptop keeps hanging. I need to reboot several times during the course of the live match cast *insert more curse words here*

4:00 am => Half time, the score is still 0 - 0. I make myself some breakfast and drink coffee as I check the TV again. Still nothing!
*insert French curse word here*

5:00 am => Game is over, the unconquerable defending champion Brazil team is defeated. France won by 1 goal scored by Thierry Henry from a brilliant pass from Zisou Zidane. Woohooo. I totally adore Zidane in fact I loveeeee the guy. Teeeheee! He truly deserves to be voted man of the match.

I'm smiling, there is a cool crisp morning breeze, the sun is about to rise.

Congratulations Les Blues. Vive l'equipe France.

"Dreams are my reality, a wondrous world where I like to be"
It is rather odd that I can vividly recall my dream, last night. Ok so it wasn't last night. I went to bed after the Italy vs Ukraine game which ended at around 5:10 AM. Italy won 3 - 0 against Ukraine and they are scheduled to meet Germany, next week. Geeez!
Speaking of Germany, their game with Argentina was fit to be deemed a World Cup finals game. Both teams were equally impressive and either deserved to win although I was obviously rooting for Argentina. I'm totally disappointed with Coach Pekerman's decisions to substitute his key players in the second half. It was a crazy move which cost Germany to catch up and eventually win the penalty shootouts.
What was he thinking??? Really terrible decision.

Ooops I digressed.

So in my dream, there were a lot of snakes. There was one green king cobra with a bright red patch on its chest who was chasing me all over.
At least I presume it was me, I didn't see myself clearly.
It ended when the cobra caught up with me and bit me in the foot.
I woke up, had lunch and waited patiently for my turn to use the laptop.
So there I was researching online for dream interpretations regarding my disturbing dream when my father asked me what I was up to.
Naturally I told him about my dream and he tells me that reading up about it won't help me at all. It is best I just pray the rosary and forget about it.
Being the sarcastic skeptic that I am, I saw it as his way of making me go to hear Mass tomorrow. Anyways, I did manage to read up on a few meanings.
This one gave different interpretations about my snakes dream. Suffice it to say, it ain't really positive to dream about snakes.
It is just a bit daunting for me to actually vividly recall the appearance of the cobra. So much so that if I was a witness in a crime the sketch artist would completely ace the drawing of the 'suspect'. In my case it isn't a person but a menacing reptile.
But contrary to the song "Reality" by Richard Sanderson where he states:

Dreams are my reality,
a wondrous world where I like to be
Illusions are a common thing
I try to live in dreams
although it's only fantasy

Well I rather not live in that particular dream.
No, thanks!