give it back to me

Well, I have a tan and it's uneven as hell. There's internet connection at Sentosa and I'm running around; shuffling between getting quotes from people, doing random interviews, watching the matches and getting scorched by the nice hot sun. Yay. Note the tone of sianified sarcasm. And yes, I brought my laptop because I have to upload pictures from the photographer's memory card, look at then, sort the nice ones out, do a little bit of touch up and put it on the FIVB website.

I got screwed by the editor for waking up late and reaching the event late. No more nonsense, he says. I'm going to steal the Redbull and stay awake all night. Or get someone to pour icy cold water on me to wake me up come tomorrow morning. Damn but I need a supremely cool shower. Hell, I don't mind just doing a quick one right now because I'm just sticky and icky and terribly uncomfortable.

Oh yeah. He knows that I smoke too and told me that I didn't have to be shy about it. Eeps. Work polo tee is hot. It's stifling and by god it makes me want to scream because it traps heat like how flypaper traps flies. I don't care if I'm not making sense. I'm still burping AK47s from last night and yeurgh, I'd take the graveyard anytime. Also, celebrated Shaikha's birthday at Zouk although she and the rest had to head home early because of work. Yeah la, me and my itchiness had to stay and club and get super high and then end up waking up late with 5 missed calls from the editor.

And yet I still feel like clubbing. What the hell is wrong with me?! Must enjoy la before I don't have the freedom to anymore.

Holy shit. My editor just asked for a stick from me. WTF?!

*****

Ok, that was all written in the day when I had the time to write nonsense down but didn't dare blog it up yet. It's been one hell of a day. The sun really does drain your body and make you fatigue. I'm amazed I'm still awake and able to type all of this down. Thank you blueandsilver Redbull, eventhough you taste as shit but are tenthousandtimes more potent than the Thai version. Speaking of Thai, or not, the Philippine volleyballers are hawt!

Everyone smokes. It is no kept secret in the office. The boss knows and so does the art director. They're all pretty cool and I think maybe tomorrow I'll have dinner with them. Bond a little la. I really admire them for working so hard and putting in a hella lot of effort to making the thing go smoothly. The only thing I can do on my part is ensure that the pictures selected are top quality and that I get as much information and data and quotes for the article as much as possible. Gonna make it one hella shebang!

Pototo parata is not parata at all. It's bloody masala in a prata. Not liking it one bit. In desperate times like these I actually do miss Niqqi's (ridiculously priced) special and all the memories it brings. Tomorrow, or rather later today, will wear a skirt down to sentosa because sometimes wearing shorts is just too damn restrictive and hot. AND NO COMPANY POLO TEE! At least not till the weekend. HOHOHO! And I will definitely wake up and be on time and everything else because even I'm disgusted by my own tardiness.

Improvement and change for the good and for the better!

And shit la, I will not club the night I have a super long and tiring field assignment because I will die. Horribly. And rely, extensively and heavily, on sugar to keep me moving.

It's about time for my shower and then I'm going to rightly concuss and have nice fluffy bunny dreams. Mmm. Bunnies. Also from tomorrow onwards, am gonna bring my camera and take some shots. Of the hot bods and the hot action and everything else. AWESOME!