I F'n Hate St Patrick's Day

Leave it to me to be clairvoyant in matters that negatively affect me. Right now I'm miserable because of what I hinted at in my last blog post. I can't believe my subtle comment would become reality.

For those of you who haven't yet found out, Ireland defeated - and subsequently eliminated - Pakistan in their World Cup clash today. Something must have been in the St. Patrick's Day air (or livers) of the Irish side. The already weak Pakistani batting was dismissed for 132 by a side that doesn't even play full-time. And despite valiant efforts from their bowling, it was always going to be damn near impossible to defend such a pitiful score.

I have been waiting four years for this world cup, after being humiliated during the last one. In the 2003 tournament, Pakistan were also eliminated in the round robin stages, with India being the team laying the final blow. I'm not sure which one will be harder to endure; losing to your enemy, or to a minnow who barely even qualified for the world cup. At least this time I didn't have to stay up all night to feel the embarrassment.

Not to equate the two, but there's also another reason I'm not exactly fond of St. Paddy's day. It was on this day six years ago, that I had to lay my dad to rest. Today, while already being a bit stressed at the massacre on the cricket pitch, my mom nagged me to take her to the cemetery in Maple where he's buried. Expectedly, she shed a tear or two, and as always I had to be the rock that stays sombre throughout.

To top it off, after expecting a nice home-cooked dinner, I find that my mom cooks nothing for me and dines with Zan. I have no idea why, but I think it was probably one of those snidy comments I say that got her set off. So let's just say that the hat-trick of events today has me mildly upset.

But yes, I'm sure I'll be fine tomorrow.