weather humid rain hot

All day the sky has been white and low, practically touching the baked beige grass. Not a breeze disturbs the stagnant air. The air itself is humid and heavy; there isn't enough of it to breathe in deeply.

Everything is very sticky all the time. Clothes stick to skin, especially armpits and the top of my chest. The laptop's clitpad is unwieldy in this kind of humidity; my sweaty fingerpads catch on the clitface and the cursor won't run properly. It is annoying; I may have to unplug the mouse from my imac and insert it into the imac.

Then, there was the crack of thunder and suddenly, very heavy rain came down. A torrent gushed out of the top-floor drainpipe onto the extension roof and made a spraying waterfall, a monument to sub-par plumbing.

The air got briefly snappy.

Now, it is even more humid than before. The air is saturated, heavy and white. Nothing moves. The sky is white, with pale smudges of the palest blue.

The tiniest physical task makes me come out in a sweat. My thoughts are fairly sluggish (when not fired by ire). There is no sun. The garbage in the front yard has started to smell; things go off very fast in this weather.

portugal/france

I am not sure whom to be for in this match. I think I will wait and see how they play.

Why I would be for Portugal:
• Because they are one of the teams I have been supporting (along with Australia, Germany, Ghana, Ivory Coast, Mexico and Brazil), and they are the only of 'my' teams to make it through to this stage
• I am obsessed with Cristiano Ronaldo's beauty.
• Because their kit is wine-red and looks cool.
• Because they have never won the World Cup and not made it to the semi-finals for 40 years. Both France and Italy are former champions.
• Because they entranced me at Euro 2004 and were cheated out of the Cup by Greece.

Why I would be for France:
• Because they played like angels against Brazil. And even though I desperately wanted Brazil to go through to play Portugal, I finally had to succumb to the superior powers of the demi-gods Zidane, Henry and Ribéry.
• Because they are grand-dads who are staging a come-back, and if Zidane is a grand-dad at age 34, then I am a revived mummy. So it is good to see the not-even-so-middle-aged mature gents stick it to the bumfluff-moustache fly-off-the-handle young jocks.
• Because their World Cup win in 1998 was so moving.
• Because I am obsessed with Cristiano Ronaldo's beauty. And no matter what happens, I get to see Cristiano a second time, and in a way it would be fun to have him play Germany for third place on Saturday.
• Because I am obsessed with Cristiano Ronaldo weeping. And if he loses against France, he will weep. And I will tape it.

Why I will decide as I watch:
• Because my over-riding desire right now is to beat Italy, I will watch them tonight and decide who is more likely to achieve this on Sunday. And if France plays as they did against Brazil, that will be France. At the moment, I can't see Portugal doing it. They are simply not good enough. But if the French suddenly fall down with Alzheimer's and exhaustion from their Brazil extravaganza, that will be a problem, too. Because the Italians are very strong!

But I bear a grudge.

I suppose I should bear the grudge against Spanish referee Luis Medina Cantalejo who awarded the 89th-minute penalty against Australia after Fabio Grossi's spectacular am dram dive and not against the Italians. After all, they tried their diving tricks yesterday but it didn't get them anywhere because wonderful Mexian ref Benito Archundia would have none of it and just let them tumble like Olympic athletes on the floormat.

Tonight's referee is the Uruguayan Jorge Larrionda.

( A note on homophobia, patriarchy and the England game )

( Pics of World Cup referees )

Sleepy + exhausted with too many late-night matches: 62 down, 2 to go!!

Well, rawiyaparand and junalele have already posted some lovely pictures and lots of nice people have commented on my patriarchy and football post (incl. omg, some people whom I knew from before football, *waves frantically*, where have youse all been??!) but it is too late for me to reply at length.

I am, however, quite agitated by the game tonight (so what else is new?). I am surprisingly disappointed; I didn't think I would be. They didn't even deserve to win; they were at that goulmouth so often and never threatened Barthez and muffed chances. But still. And the French goal wasn't that beautiful. I can never think of a penalty as a 'proper' goal. And even I have to concede that the Italian goals last night were.

I have taken to reading the German online press to get away from the prevalent English anti-Portugal punditry. Even Gary and Alan are indulging in it now! I am really disappointed in them. The Germans who presumably will have something more of a stake in the matter now that they are playing Portugal have, so far, been refreshingly neutral and have criticised both England and Portugal in like manner. Nor have they made a witch hunt of one youth. (Or should that be a wizard hunt? I mean if people can insist that he is Harry Potter on polyjuice... *looks meaningfully*.)

And nobody even mentions the Italians! Who dove left, right and centre! One of whom had an epileptic fit and then jumped up miraculously seconds later! One of whom climbed onto a German player's back in order to be able to collapse in wounded agony seconds later! And then hop up all of a sudden, miraculously cured! Anyway, it's not on dives that we lost; it's because those annoying boys just couldn't get that ball into that net.

Luckily, t'h is blissfully unaffected by all the England Roonery. He's not as much of a football person as I am but he got quite into it this time round because Australia was in it.

Tonight's game:
T'h: I love the way Cristiano Ronaldo runs. In that syncopated way; did you see it? Dum, duh duh dum, dum. *beats rhythm on sofa armrest* It's like stotting! That's a word, you know.
Me: Stotting?
T'h: He just looks so beautiful. If I were a woman, I would be in love with him.
Me: I am in love with him. No, I'm not. I want to be his mum!
T'h: That is sick! Oh look, there he is, crying again. He looks even more beautiful when he cries.
Me: Yup. That's what I think.
T'h: Hah! You don't want to be his mum! You don't want to tuck him into bed; you want to f... um, *casts glance at t'12-yr-old* feel him in bed.
Me: *cackles*
12-yr-old: *rolls eyes*
8-yr-old: I like Cristiano Ronaldo. He looks nice. (OK, that was said three days ago but I thought I'd put it in here.)

T'h first started swooning on about Cristiano Ronaldo during Euro 2004. Come to think of it, he was also the first one to swoon about movie!Legolas. I am beginning to wonder if I am not channelling t'h's sekrit homoerotic lusts.