Re: eating/weight/everything:
The thing is, I have a very very very healthy diet. I have will power, and I don't have a sweet tooth. Every single meal that we eat in this house is balanced and high in protien/veg, low in filler/starch/refined crap/sugar, etc. We NEVER eat dessert. I drink at least 2 litres of water per day. There is NOTHING fried in this house. I hardly ever drink beer. AND I do regular exercise. OK, the exercise is nothing like the old high school days of running cross country and track... it's not even like the old college days of rugby. But it's regular light exercise at the very least (yoga, soccer, tag rugby). Not to mention a 30 minute walk every morning. So why do I still have the gut roll? Why do I have to go into a fit of depression every time I see myself in a changing room mirror? Why the spare tire? UGH!
So I read a really interesting article on men's health (DOH!) on msn.com the other day and it said that one of the reasons men have such a hard time losing weight is because of the vicious "But I go to the gym all the time!" -circle. They go to the gym and work out like crazy. But then they're starving. So they stuff themselves because their bodies are going "hungry! hungry!". And they're going "aw hell, I worked out today, I need to eat a bunch!" And even if it's healthy food (amazing to read about what men think "healthy food" is, but anyway...) they shove it down their throats so fast, in fits of hunger, that their brain doesnt get a chance to catch up with their belly and say "HEY!! STOP!! You're full!!!". And so strikes the vicious speed-eating/overeating 1-2. Which of course, when done consistantly, outweighs the exercise. And weight is gained, despite all the "good" you think you're doing at the gym.
So in the article, the nutritionist recommended the following behaviour-changing routine for overeating habits. On a whim I decided to give it a bash, because I know I eat a shitload for a 5'2" little runt of a beast. And I have to say, it's changed the last 2 days of my life immensely. It's very simple, and at best, you can lose a little bit of stubborn poundage, and at worst, you get a higher water intake and don't look like the tasmanian devil when you eat:
Take one bite of food.
As you're chewing, set your utensil down.
(on your placemat) Once the food is thoroughly chewed,
Take a sip from your water glass.
Set the glass down.
Repeat.
Until your stomach is full. NOT "Stuffed", just "full". As in "comfortably satisfied". As in "not hungry anymore".
THEN the most important part comes in:
You MUST stop eating.
And THAT is how much food your body requires at that particular meal. That is the perfect amount of food that your body needs at that given sitting. It's natural regulation. We just ignore the built-in food monitor because we're eating too damn FAST, and being too damn GREEDY.
HOLY FRICKIN BALLS!!! this is so damn enlightening. You would not BELIEVE the amount of time it takes to finish a dinner like that. I've done it for the last 4 meals and I swear to anyone reading this that IT IS AMAZING. You wouldn't think that the process of simply putting one's fork down, and reaching for one's glass of water, taking one drink of water, putting the glass down, and going back to the fork, would make such a huge time difference!! We timed ourselves the other night and sure enough, it lengthens the eating process by like 300%. Whereby your stomach is able to actually GET the message to your brain, that you're full. OK now actually STOPPING is the part that takes willpower. But it's crazy when you see how LITTLE you really need to eat in order to be full. Here's an example.
I often eat a cheese and salad sandwich for lunch. Same brand every time, same ingredients, same everything. Normally I would eat one of these sandwiches, and have something supplemental like a banana or a bowl of soup or god knows what. Nevermind that. Yesterday I took said sandwich, and much to the hilariaty of the boys at my table, I ate it as per the above regime. Guess when my stomach said stop? BEFORE I EVEN FINISHED the 2nd half!! I literally had 3 bites of the sandwich left. No banana, no whatever. OK now it was extremely hard to wrap up the remaining 3 bites of the sandwich into the paper towel, but I forced myself to do it. and then kept it for later, because I was SURE I was going to be starving in an hour. I mean who can get full on one cheese and salad sandwich?!?! But I wasnt even hungry until I got home that night. That last nibble of sandwich was still there for the taking, today. And then I did the same thing again. This time with fajitas at dinner. Normally, the Mr. and I would both eat about 3. Well, most of the time, he'd make a 4th one, and I'd even eat half of that!!!!! (JEEZ!!! oink oink) Let's evaluate the sense in that: HE's 6'3".... *I* am 5'2". Hmmm and yet I'm so bamboozled by the spare tire!!
Anyway, it took me a long-ass time to eat ONE fajita, and I was full. Yes, they were delicious. 3 different peppers, mushrooms, beautiful strips of chicken, tomatoes, lettuce, and a wee bit of shredded cheese. So I had to reeeeeeallly hold myself back from attacking his 2nd one, but I did it. I'm on a friggin mission. A mission of moderation. Not even moderation, just THE RIGHT AMOUNT. Something I've managed to go 30 years without learning.
And the proof of my experiment's logic is in the pudding, er, the proportions... the 6'3" man ended up needing 2 fajitas to get full, while the 5'2" little girl needed one. MUCH more reasonable than before.
Now I'm just REALLY boggled in the head when I think back to all those times I finished a whole large pizza by myself. UGH! How many times have I literally ROLLED away from the table going "uggggggghhhhhhh".
Since the last 4 or so meals, I've realized that at each meal, had I not been doing "The Thing", I would have definitely, no-doubt, sure-as-hell eaten at least 100% more than what it really takes to get the message to the brain that I'm full.
I'm interested to see what happens to the waistline. Who knows, maybe nothing, but at least I've woken up to the fact that I have a serious tendency to overeat at about 9 out of 10 sittings when given the chance.
The thing is, I have a very very very healthy diet. I have will power, and I don't have a sweet tooth. Every single meal that we eat in this house is balanced and high in protien/veg, low in filler/starch/refined crap/sugar, etc. We NEVER eat dessert. I drink at least 2 litres of water per day. There is NOTHING fried in this house. I hardly ever drink beer. AND I do regular exercise. OK, the exercise is nothing like the old high school days of running cross country and track... it's not even like the old college days of rugby. But it's regular light exercise at the very least (yoga, soccer, tag rugby). Not to mention a 30 minute walk every morning. So why do I still have the gut roll? Why do I have to go into a fit of depression every time I see myself in a changing room mirror? Why the spare tire? UGH!
So I read a really interesting article on men's health (DOH!) on msn.com the other day and it said that one of the reasons men have such a hard time losing weight is because of the vicious "But I go to the gym all the time!" -circle. They go to the gym and work out like crazy. But then they're starving. So they stuff themselves because their bodies are going "hungry! hungry!". And they're going "aw hell, I worked out today, I need to eat a bunch!" And even if it's healthy food (amazing to read about what men think "healthy food" is, but anyway...) they shove it down their throats so fast, in fits of hunger, that their brain doesnt get a chance to catch up with their belly and say "HEY!! STOP!! You're full!!!". And so strikes the vicious speed-eating/overeating 1-2. Which of course, when done consistantly, outweighs the exercise. And weight is gained, despite all the "good" you think you're doing at the gym.
So in the article, the nutritionist recommended the following behaviour-changing routine for overeating habits. On a whim I decided to give it a bash, because I know I eat a shitload for a 5'2" little runt of a beast. And I have to say, it's changed the last 2 days of my life immensely. It's very simple, and at best, you can lose a little bit of stubborn poundage, and at worst, you get a higher water intake and don't look like the tasmanian devil when you eat:
Take one bite of food.
As you're chewing, set your utensil down.
(on your placemat) Once the food is thoroughly chewed,
Take a sip from your water glass.
Set the glass down.
Repeat.
Until your stomach is full. NOT "Stuffed", just "full". As in "comfortably satisfied". As in "not hungry anymore".
THEN the most important part comes in:
You MUST stop eating.
And THAT is how much food your body requires at that particular meal. That is the perfect amount of food that your body needs at that given sitting. It's natural regulation. We just ignore the built-in food monitor because we're eating too damn FAST, and being too damn GREEDY.
HOLY FRICKIN BALLS!!! this is so damn enlightening. You would not BELIEVE the amount of time it takes to finish a dinner like that. I've done it for the last 4 meals and I swear to anyone reading this that IT IS AMAZING. You wouldn't think that the process of simply putting one's fork down, and reaching for one's glass of water, taking one drink of water, putting the glass down, and going back to the fork, would make such a huge time difference!! We timed ourselves the other night and sure enough, it lengthens the eating process by like 300%. Whereby your stomach is able to actually GET the message to your brain, that you're full. OK now actually STOPPING is the part that takes willpower. But it's crazy when you see how LITTLE you really need to eat in order to be full. Here's an example.
I often eat a cheese and salad sandwich for lunch. Same brand every time, same ingredients, same everything. Normally I would eat one of these sandwiches, and have something supplemental like a banana or a bowl of soup or god knows what. Nevermind that. Yesterday I took said sandwich, and much to the hilariaty of the boys at my table, I ate it as per the above regime. Guess when my stomach said stop? BEFORE I EVEN FINISHED the 2nd half!! I literally had 3 bites of the sandwich left. No banana, no whatever. OK now it was extremely hard to wrap up the remaining 3 bites of the sandwich into the paper towel, but I forced myself to do it. and then kept it for later, because I was SURE I was going to be starving in an hour. I mean who can get full on one cheese and salad sandwich?!?! But I wasnt even hungry until I got home that night. That last nibble of sandwich was still there for the taking, today. And then I did the same thing again. This time with fajitas at dinner. Normally, the Mr. and I would both eat about 3. Well, most of the time, he'd make a 4th one, and I'd even eat half of that!!!!! (JEEZ!!! oink oink) Let's evaluate the sense in that: HE's 6'3".... *I* am 5'2". Hmmm and yet I'm so bamboozled by the spare tire!!
Anyway, it took me a long-ass time to eat ONE fajita, and I was full. Yes, they were delicious. 3 different peppers, mushrooms, beautiful strips of chicken, tomatoes, lettuce, and a wee bit of shredded cheese. So I had to reeeeeeallly hold myself back from attacking his 2nd one, but I did it. I'm on a friggin mission. A mission of moderation. Not even moderation, just THE RIGHT AMOUNT. Something I've managed to go 30 years without learning.
And the proof of my experiment's logic is in the pudding, er, the proportions... the 6'3" man ended up needing 2 fajitas to get full, while the 5'2" little girl needed one. MUCH more reasonable than before.
Now I'm just REALLY boggled in the head when I think back to all those times I finished a whole large pizza by myself. UGH! How many times have I literally ROLLED away from the table going "uggggggghhhhhhh".
Since the last 4 or so meals, I've realized that at each meal, had I not been doing "The Thing", I would have definitely, no-doubt, sure-as-hell eaten at least 100% more than what it really takes to get the message to the brain that I'm full.
I'm interested to see what happens to the waistline. Who knows, maybe nothing, but at least I've woken up to the fact that I have a serious tendency to overeat at about 9 out of 10 sittings when given the chance.
It's been a nice week. It seems we're spending more time outside this summer than last, which is good because that's a sign that the weather has been freakishly un-Irish this summer.
Last week saw the close of the great Tag Rugby Season of '06. In our last game (the grand finale) we lost to Area 51, the only team who managed to beat us all season. That means we were undefeated for most of the season, and in the end, the team who beat us, also won the trophy. The final was a real nail-biter, with them leading, then us leading, then them leading, then us tieing with them, and finally, them winning by 3 points. It was sad, but we drank away our sorrows in the clubhouse and had a grand old time.
Friday was the big BBQ down in Carrigaline. It was a hoot. I have many photos to prove it but I am so sick of not being able to upload photos into blogger and having to use photobucket instead. so much hassle. It was a great afternoon in the sun and everyone was in good form. We had a big table quiz which was my first ever (even though they're SUCH the irish institution!) and my gang came in like 4th or something. Not bad at all. I aced all the questions in the "cocktails" catagory... nearly. We DID get 10/10 on the TV Theme Tunes round, though. Awesome.
Saturday we met Jéan & Mark the Scotland Two, on their whirlwind trip through Ireland, in Limerick. It's the last week before J. moves back to South Africa and it'll be another 6 months or so (!!!) before M. will be able to immigrate there to join him. The poor babies. It's sad in a way. But happy in the way that at least they'll be reunited (eventually) We spent the day driving around the Loop Head Peninsula, Co. Clare, had the most incredible seafood at The Long Dock in Carrigaholt. UN FRIGGIN BELIEVABLE seafood. THE best seafood I've eaten in my whole stay on this island. (Irish dining is CRAP) We (between us all) had scallops, oysters, goats cheese, crab claws, grilled John Dory, sea bass, and monkfish. Diiiii viiiiine! And yet Carrigaholt is a one-horse town on the coast with only, what, a hundred people living there? Drove around some more at sunset, visited the lighthouse (the same one I almost booked my family in to stay when they came to visit at easter!), and again took loads of scenic photos which I can't be bothered uploading. Spent the night in Castleconnell, Co. Limerick at Castle Oaks which was meant to be really swanky and was actually really average, but no bother, since it was only like 12 hours all together. Drove around some more, up Woodcock Hill for some scenic views over Limerick Stab City, and off to Ennis for the day. In hindsight, I have a hard time understanding why Ennis was always Hannes & my favorite irish town. It was actually quite boring. Lunch @ Ruby Tuesday was really good actually. (Not the same chain as in Mid-MO) Really a nice day all together.
It's so nice to know we'll be seeing J. & M. in Africa and that they're kind of our perma-link to our life in this corner of the globe. I never have the feeling I'll be lonely in BW, and it's weird situations like this one (having J & M 3 hours away once we're there) that help give me this feeling.
So the weather is nice anyway. Too bad my yoga class is inside. But thursday there's talk of getting the gang together for a soccer match after work, just at the regional park down the road. Totally informal. Very nice.
Shame about those photos and my laziness.
Last week saw the close of the great Tag Rugby Season of '06. In our last game (the grand finale) we lost to Area 51, the only team who managed to beat us all season. That means we were undefeated for most of the season, and in the end, the team who beat us, also won the trophy. The final was a real nail-biter, with them leading, then us leading, then them leading, then us tieing with them, and finally, them winning by 3 points. It was sad, but we drank away our sorrows in the clubhouse and had a grand old time.
Friday was the big BBQ down in Carrigaline. It was a hoot. I have many photos to prove it but I am so sick of not being able to upload photos into blogger and having to use photobucket instead. so much hassle. It was a great afternoon in the sun and everyone was in good form. We had a big table quiz which was my first ever (even though they're SUCH the irish institution!) and my gang came in like 4th or something. Not bad at all. I aced all the questions in the "cocktails" catagory... nearly. We DID get 10/10 on the TV Theme Tunes round, though. Awesome.
Saturday we met Jéan & Mark the Scotland Two, on their whirlwind trip through Ireland, in Limerick. It's the last week before J. moves back to South Africa and it'll be another 6 months or so (!!!) before M. will be able to immigrate there to join him. The poor babies. It's sad in a way. But happy in the way that at least they'll be reunited (eventually) We spent the day driving around the Loop Head Peninsula, Co. Clare, had the most incredible seafood at The Long Dock in Carrigaholt. UN FRIGGIN BELIEVABLE seafood. THE best seafood I've eaten in my whole stay on this island. (Irish dining is CRAP) We (between us all) had scallops, oysters, goats cheese, crab claws, grilled John Dory, sea bass, and monkfish. Diiiii viiiiine! And yet Carrigaholt is a one-horse town on the coast with only, what, a hundred people living there? Drove around some more at sunset, visited the lighthouse (the same one I almost booked my family in to stay when they came to visit at easter!), and again took loads of scenic photos which I can't be bothered uploading. Spent the night in Castleconnell, Co. Limerick at Castle Oaks which was meant to be really swanky and was actually really average, but no bother, since it was only like 12 hours all together. Drove around some more, up Woodcock Hill for some scenic views over Limerick Stab City, and off to Ennis for the day. In hindsight, I have a hard time understanding why Ennis was always Hannes & my favorite irish town. It was actually quite boring. Lunch @ Ruby Tuesday was really good actually. (Not the same chain as in Mid-MO) Really a nice day all together.
It's so nice to know we'll be seeing J. & M. in Africa and that they're kind of our perma-link to our life in this corner of the globe. I never have the feeling I'll be lonely in BW, and it's weird situations like this one (having J & M 3 hours away once we're there) that help give me this feeling.
So the weather is nice anyway. Too bad my yoga class is inside. But thursday there's talk of getting the gang together for a soccer match after work, just at the regional park down the road. Totally informal. Very nice.
Shame about those photos and my laziness.
blerr deeblerrr dee blerrrr
0 Comments Published by Oh Wayward One on 20 July 2006 at 7/20/2006 06:09:00 pm.
Yeah I guess the whole Zidane thing got to me so bad it even turned me off of blogging?
oh well.
just to bring more smiles to my face regarding football again, here are some priceless Football quotes by famous footballers. (For once it's so nice to get a hilarious-idiot forward without it being entitled "The Wisdom of George W." or "Stupid American quotes", etc. Not one of these guys is a yank, for once.
With words like these how can they fail to impress the world?
My parents have been there for me, ever since I was about 7.
David Beckham
I would not be bothered if we lost every game as long as we won the league.'
Mark Viduka
Alex Ferguson is the best manager I've ever had at this level. Well, he's the only manager I've actually had at this level. But he's the best manager I've ever had.'
David Beckham
If you don't believe you can win, there is no point in getting out of bed at the end of the day.'
Neville Southall
I've had 14 bookings this season - 8 of which were my fault, but 7 of which were disputable.
Paul Gascoigne
I've never wanted to leave. I'm here for the rest of my life, and hopefully after that as well.'
Alan Shearer
I'd like to play for an Italian club, like Barcelona.'
Mark Draper
You've got to believe that you're going to win, and I believe we'll win the World Cup until the final whistle blows and we're knocked out.'
Peter Shilton
I faxed a transfer request to the club at the beginning of the week, but let me state that I don't want to leave Leicester.'
Stan Collymore
I was watching the Blackburn game on TV on Sunday when it flashed on the screen that George (Ndah) had scored in the first minute at Birmingham. My first reaction was to ring him up. Then I remembered he was out there playing.'
Ade Akinbiyi
Without being too harsh on David Beckham, he cost us the match.'
Ian Wright
I'm as happy as I can be - but I have been happier.'
Ugo Ehiogu
Leeds is a great club and it's been my home for years, even though I live in Middlesborough.'
Jonathan Woodgate
I can see the carrot at the end of the tunnel.'
Stuart Pearce
I took a whack on my left ankle, but something told me it was my right.'
Lee Hendrie
I couldn't settle in Italy - it was like living in a foreign country.'
Ian Rush
Germany are a very difficult team to play...they had 11 internationals out there today.'
Steve Lomas
I always used to put my right boot on first, and then obviously my right sock.'
Barry Venison
I definitely want Brooklyn to be christened, but I don't know into what religion yet.'
David Beckham
The Brazilians were South American, and the Ukrainians will be more European.
Phil Neville
All that remains is for a few dots and commas to be crossed.'
Mitchell Thomas
One accusation you can't throw at me is that I've always done my best.'
Alan Shearer
I'd rather play in front of a full house than an empty crowd.'
Johnny Giles
Sometimes in football you have to score goals.'
Thierry Henry.
oh well.
just to bring more smiles to my face regarding football again, here are some priceless Football quotes by famous footballers. (For once it's so nice to get a hilarious-idiot forward without it being entitled "The Wisdom of George W." or "Stupid American quotes", etc. Not one of these guys is a yank, for once.
With words like these how can they fail to impress the world?
My parents have been there for me, ever since I was about 7.
David Beckham
I would not be bothered if we lost every game as long as we won the league.'
Mark Viduka
Alex Ferguson is the best manager I've ever had at this level. Well, he's the only manager I've actually had at this level. But he's the best manager I've ever had.'
David Beckham
If you don't believe you can win, there is no point in getting out of bed at the end of the day.'
Neville Southall
I've had 14 bookings this season - 8 of which were my fault, but 7 of which were disputable.
Paul Gascoigne
I've never wanted to leave. I'm here for the rest of my life, and hopefully after that as well.'
Alan Shearer
I'd like to play for an Italian club, like Barcelona.'
Mark Draper
You've got to believe that you're going to win, and I believe we'll win the World Cup until the final whistle blows and we're knocked out.'
Peter Shilton
I faxed a transfer request to the club at the beginning of the week, but let me state that I don't want to leave Leicester.'
Stan Collymore
I was watching the Blackburn game on TV on Sunday when it flashed on the screen that George (Ndah) had scored in the first minute at Birmingham. My first reaction was to ring him up. Then I remembered he was out there playing.'
Ade Akinbiyi
Without being too harsh on David Beckham, he cost us the match.'
Ian Wright
I'm as happy as I can be - but I have been happier.'
Ugo Ehiogu
Leeds is a great club and it's been my home for years, even though I live in Middlesborough.'
Jonathan Woodgate
I can see the carrot at the end of the tunnel.'
Stuart Pearce
I took a whack on my left ankle, but something told me it was my right.'
Lee Hendrie
I couldn't settle in Italy - it was like living in a foreign country.'
Ian Rush
Germany are a very difficult team to play...they had 11 internationals out there today.'
Steve Lomas
I always used to put my right boot on first, and then obviously my right sock.'
Barry Venison
I definitely want Brooklyn to be christened, but I don't know into what religion yet.'
David Beckham
The Brazilians were South American, and the Ukrainians will be more European.
Phil Neville
All that remains is for a few dots and commas to be crossed.'
Mitchell Thomas
One accusation you can't throw at me is that I've always done my best.'
Alan Shearer
I'd rather play in front of a full house than an empty crowd.'
Johnny Giles
Sometimes in football you have to score goals.'
Thierry Henry.
I am so annoyed about Zinedine Zidane.
The World Cup ended on Sunday (alas!) and Italy were crowned champions. Fair enough. I was backing France, but at the end of the day, what Zidane did makes me glad they lost. Actually, I'm not glad at all. I can't be. I'm upset, disappointed, disgraced, and angry. In a fraction of one second, "The Beautiful Game" turned very, very ugly.
I think the fact that I'd spent the last 2 France games praising ZZ's beautiful style of play, his strength, his unmatched talent... he is a LEGEND. He is more of a legend to me than anyone in any sport (besides Michael Schumacher, of course). And then he goes and acts the arse. Probably even worse than just acting like a hothead (which he HAS done before, which we AREN'T surprised about, really) are the following facts:
1. France probably lost the world cup because of him getting thrown out (Italy won in penalty shoot-out and HE is the best penalty taker that France has), and
2. It was his last game EVER. He would be retiring from football after this World Cup. He needed to go out with the pride and glory that he so definitely deserved.
What he did was unforgivable. True, the whole country of France will hold this against him forever, but more importantly, fans all over the WORLD will hold this against him. Kids everywhere, from Ireland to Australia to Africa are wearing their "Zidane" jerseys to school every single day, hanging his posters up on their bedroom walls, looking up to him, wanting to be him. Hell, *I* want to be him. What I don't want, is football continuing to grow toward this dirty word, associated with drunk hooligans and hot-headed millionaires who can't behave for 90 minutes.
There is no excuse, Zinedine. There were HOW many minutes left to go in the game? 1 and a half? Your team was the better team on the day, the team who deserved to win. You owed it to them on your LAST MINUTE EVER in a championship football game, to think twice before chucking your temper tantrum and jepordizing glory for your country, your fans, yourself. Everyone knows you wouldn't have missed a penalty shot, if you hadn't been sent off. Everyone knows, because everyone has an astronomical amount of faith in you, and everyone has seen you do it before. We were waiting this WHOLE WORLD CUP to see the Zidane we all know, go off the field with the Cup in hand, for the last time, his last shining moment in football history, in the radiating in the glory that only the likes of Péle and Maradona have ever known.
The French sports daily L'Equipe wrote: "This morning, Zinedine, what do we tell our children, and all those for whom you were the living role model for all times?" Damn straight. What now. What have you done to the beautiful game?
Now the greasy Italians have it. The team who is about as rock bottom as a team can get in terms of football and ethics. Sure, Marco Materazzi insulted him. Typical. Rise above it for ONE BLOODY MINUTE. They're ITALIANS. Their whole football league is in the shit right now for this huge match-fixing scandal. Do NOT sink to that LEVEL! The Italians as cup champions?! All for the price of one penalty goal. And the reputation of the greatest football player in the world... which is tarnished forever. Which can only be blamed on the incredible Zinedine Zidane.
The World Cup ended on Sunday (alas!) and Italy were crowned champions. Fair enough. I was backing France, but at the end of the day, what Zidane did makes me glad they lost. Actually, I'm not glad at all. I can't be. I'm upset, disappointed, disgraced, and angry. In a fraction of one second, "The Beautiful Game" turned very, very ugly.
I think the fact that I'd spent the last 2 France games praising ZZ's beautiful style of play, his strength, his unmatched talent... he is a LEGEND. He is more of a legend to me than anyone in any sport (besides Michael Schumacher, of course). And then he goes and acts the arse. Probably even worse than just acting like a hothead (which he HAS done before, which we AREN'T surprised about, really) are the following facts:
1. France probably lost the world cup because of him getting thrown out (Italy won in penalty shoot-out and HE is the best penalty taker that France has), and
2. It was his last game EVER. He would be retiring from football after this World Cup. He needed to go out with the pride and glory that he so definitely deserved.
What he did was unforgivable. True, the whole country of France will hold this against him forever, but more importantly, fans all over the WORLD will hold this against him. Kids everywhere, from Ireland to Australia to Africa are wearing their "Zidane" jerseys to school every single day, hanging his posters up on their bedroom walls, looking up to him, wanting to be him. Hell, *I* want to be him. What I don't want, is football continuing to grow toward this dirty word, associated with drunk hooligans and hot-headed millionaires who can't behave for 90 minutes.
There is no excuse, Zinedine. There were HOW many minutes left to go in the game? 1 and a half? Your team was the better team on the day, the team who deserved to win. You owed it to them on your LAST MINUTE EVER in a championship football game, to think twice before chucking your temper tantrum and jepordizing glory for your country, your fans, yourself. Everyone knows you wouldn't have missed a penalty shot, if you hadn't been sent off. Everyone knows, because everyone has an astronomical amount of faith in you, and everyone has seen you do it before. We were waiting this WHOLE WORLD CUP to see the Zidane we all know, go off the field with the Cup in hand, for the last time, his last shining moment in football history, in the radiating in the glory that only the likes of Péle and Maradona have ever known.
The French sports daily L'Equipe wrote: "This morning, Zinedine, what do we tell our children, and all those for whom you were the living role model for all times?" Damn straight. What now. What have you done to the beautiful game?
Now the greasy Italians have it. The team who is about as rock bottom as a team can get in terms of football and ethics. Sure, Marco Materazzi insulted him. Typical. Rise above it for ONE BLOODY MINUTE. They're ITALIANS. Their whole football league is in the shit right now for this huge match-fixing scandal. Do NOT sink to that LEVEL! The Italians as cup champions?! All for the price of one penalty goal. And the reputation of the greatest football player in the world... which is tarnished forever. Which can only be blamed on the incredible Zinedine Zidane.
I wrote a thing on our botswana blog about leaving, which interestingly enough started out to be just a blah blah blah wah wah wah kindof nyeeaaaaaahhhh whatever thing, (I know what I mean by that, and that's all that matters)
and it ended up making me sad.
Ok it didn't help that:
It's one of those dreary rainy irish days;
I had just been super mean to my sweet darling poopie love of my life;
I've just accepted the fact I'm going to miss some people & they're going to miss us;
My house is dirty & I have to clean it;
I had this playing while I was writing (TRACK 6!!!!!);
(Queue pretentious mood-coinciding lyrics-- I never do this!!! WTF!)
Winter's setting in again
And it feels
Like the end is near
Senseless sense and I'm alone
Watching the seconds
Passing by
Come January I swear this world
Won't be the one
That we once lived on
Took an oath
For a promise sworn and broken
All that's gone
Away
When Monday morning you can't wake up
Still dreaming of
What could've been
Something good has gone and left you
It's another tear
One more denial
Come January...
and it ended up making me sad.
Ok it didn't help that:
It's one of those dreary rainy irish days;
I had just been super mean to my sweet darling poopie love of my life;
I've just accepted the fact I'm going to miss some people & they're going to miss us;
My house is dirty & I have to clean it;
I had this playing while I was writing (TRACK 6!!!!!);
(Queue pretentious mood-coinciding lyrics-- I never do this!!! WTF!)
Winter's setting in again
And it feels
Like the end is near
Senseless sense and I'm alone
Watching the seconds
Passing by
Come January I swear this world
Won't be the one
That we once lived on
Took an oath
For a promise sworn and broken
All that's gone
Away
When Monday morning you can't wake up
Still dreaming of
What could've been
Something good has gone and left you
It's another tear
One more denial
Come January...
I just spent 20 minutes writing a huge blog entry about seeing Robert Plant 2 nights ago, and how it made me feel. And it was brilliant. And my computer crashed.
I will now try to reconstruct said blog entry using one-word or one-sentence descriptions.
Best show in at least 5 years.
Good vantage point.
Great crowd.
Standing within (10 ft. of) the presence of greatness.
Still long blond curly hair, dancing like a madman, fit.
3 Led Zepplin songs, and 29 Palms.
Band = awesome... full of hot hot HOT charisma.
Crowd = typical Zepplin fans, cool. Especially for Ireland.
Pleasantly surprised... thought Ireland was too Top 40 for them.
Vibe, vibe, vibe.
Unbelievably cool 15 year olds.
Once *I* was that 15 year old walking the halls of school wearing the teeshirt of some band from 3 generations before my birth.
And there they were, right in front of me. 15-year old Jill and 15 year old Daryl G.
~sigh~
making out. So cute!
Warm beer in plastic cups.
Truly, in the presence of greatness.
I will now try to reconstruct said blog entry using one-word or one-sentence descriptions.
Best show in at least 5 years.
Good vantage point.
Great crowd.
Standing within (10 ft. of) the presence of greatness.
Still long blond curly hair, dancing like a madman, fit.
3 Led Zepplin songs, and 29 Palms.
Band = awesome... full of hot hot HOT charisma.
Crowd = typical Zepplin fans, cool. Especially for Ireland.
Pleasantly surprised... thought Ireland was too Top 40 for them.
Vibe, vibe, vibe.
Unbelievably cool 15 year olds.
Once *I* was that 15 year old walking the halls of school wearing the teeshirt of some band from 3 generations before my birth.
And there they were, right in front of me. 15-year old Jill and 15 year old Daryl G.
~sigh~
making out. So cute!
Warm beer in plastic cups.
Truly, in the presence of greatness.
Party of the Century
0 Comments Published by Oh Wayward One on 03 July 2006 at 7/03/2006 08:22:00 pm.
And this wasn't even the HALF of it....
Hosting an awesome party is kind of like the biggest ego boost anyone can ever have. It's such a trip. People are talking about it the next day, people who missed it are kicking themselves because they've heard it was fabulous... no one wants to LEAVE... such a rush. Not to mention all the compliments and your new reputation of being a gracious host... MAN it's been awhile since I had a reputation for anything noteworthy!
The great backyard bbq of '06 went even better than we hoped. About 15 gung-ho punters came to enjoy the festivities which kicked off around 7. It was a veritable Noah's Ark of friends invited... 2 x aussies; 2 x dutchies; 2 x malaysians; 2 x yanks; 3 x dogs; and the remainder of irish.
First we all crammed in my sitting room and watched the Brazil game. That was DEFINITELY the most people we've ever had in that room. Hot as a sauna by the end of the game. People hanging off of chair arms and crunched up on the floor with dogs in laps, screaming at the tv and drinking really good German beer.
When the game ended, the fires started. BBQ lept to life, and so did our little garden chimeny. Let's just say the rest of the night was spent drankin' & burnin'! My musical selection for the evening (13 hours of music!!!) was a smash hit, and everyone was being thorougly social, and it was just PERFECT. Great weather, great vibe, and all the right people. Lots of drinking games and messing around and smashing things up. We (ahem) got rid of that extra dog house. With a pick axe. Ah the drunken revel. I was drinking Toe-J's all night (Tequila + OJ) and managed to finish the whole bottle with the help of some of the boys who were feeling game. And Pádraig brought me a special bottle (WITH worm!) which we got half into as well. The bathtub started out COMPLETELY full of bottles & cans that everyone provided, and ended empty. Now THATS the way it should be.
About sunrise (+- 4:30 am) we fired up the bbq AGAIN and had some breakfast. Then people started trickling out. The last troopers (Alan & Audrey) left around 6:30. Well except for the few that were passed out in various rooms in the house. Steve, Madonna, and Pádraig. My baby and I cleaned up and hit the hay. I felt amazingly good the next day. That's because I stayed on the tequila all night and didnt mix my booze. Well, with the exception of the bottle of champagne Vincey & I shared during the football game. But that was just incidental.
An 11-hour party that involves meat, fire, good friends, blissful summer evenings and great music is always fun. But this one was extra fun. Kinda made me sad, in a way. All the people from my Irish life that I like, were there. And I know I'll miss them now. There were a few special moments that I just had to stop and make a mental note of, because those are the ones I'll want to take with me in 5 months' time. But just for my own safekeeping, here are some photos to help make that happen.
Sometime after the eating part ended, we decided to rid the backyard of the extra (wonky) puppy house... Tim and Kevin really finished it off famously.
Oh, and the hammock made a fine bbq accessory. Except in cases where it made people sick. And attracted puppies.
Hosting an awesome party is kind of like the biggest ego boost anyone can ever have. It's such a trip. People are talking about it the next day, people who missed it are kicking themselves because they've heard it was fabulous... no one wants to LEAVE... such a rush. Not to mention all the compliments and your new reputation of being a gracious host... MAN it's been awhile since I had a reputation for anything noteworthy!
The great backyard bbq of '06 went even better than we hoped. About 15 gung-ho punters came to enjoy the festivities which kicked off around 7. It was a veritable Noah's Ark of friends invited... 2 x aussies; 2 x dutchies; 2 x malaysians; 2 x yanks; 3 x dogs; and the remainder of irish.
First we all crammed in my sitting room and watched the Brazil game. That was DEFINITELY the most people we've ever had in that room. Hot as a sauna by the end of the game. People hanging off of chair arms and crunched up on the floor with dogs in laps, screaming at the tv and drinking really good German beer.
When the game ended, the fires started. BBQ lept to life, and so did our little garden chimeny. Let's just say the rest of the night was spent drankin' & burnin'! My musical selection for the evening (13 hours of music!!!) was a smash hit, and everyone was being thorougly social, and it was just PERFECT. Great weather, great vibe, and all the right people. Lots of drinking games and messing around and smashing things up. We (ahem) got rid of that extra dog house. With a pick axe. Ah the drunken revel. I was drinking Toe-J's all night (Tequila + OJ) and managed to finish the whole bottle with the help of some of the boys who were feeling game. And Pádraig brought me a special bottle (WITH worm!) which we got half into as well. The bathtub started out COMPLETELY full of bottles & cans that everyone provided, and ended empty. Now THATS the way it should be.
About sunrise (+- 4:30 am) we fired up the bbq AGAIN and had some breakfast. Then people started trickling out. The last troopers (Alan & Audrey) left around 6:30. Well except for the few that were passed out in various rooms in the house. Steve, Madonna, and Pádraig. My baby and I cleaned up and hit the hay. I felt amazingly good the next day. That's because I stayed on the tequila all night and didnt mix my booze. Well, with the exception of the bottle of champagne Vincey & I shared during the football game. But that was just incidental.
An 11-hour party that involves meat, fire, good friends, blissful summer evenings and great music is always fun. But this one was extra fun. Kinda made me sad, in a way. All the people from my Irish life that I like, were there. And I know I'll miss them now. There were a few special moments that I just had to stop and make a mental note of, because those are the ones I'll want to take with me in 5 months' time. But just for my own safekeeping, here are some photos to help make that happen.
Sometime after the eating part ended, we decided to rid the backyard of the extra (wonky) puppy house... Tim and Kevin really finished it off famously.
Oh, and the hammock made a fine bbq accessory. Except in cases where it made people sick. And attracted puppies.
