Wow!

I dyed my hair today. Yeah. Someone convinced me to do it, after I cut it in a way I've never worn it before. So yes, highlights. Wonder how everyone will react. I've never dyed my hair before, though some of my friends have peered at my pseudo-goatee and asked if I have. For some strange reason, some of my facial hair sprouts in colours other than black, lending me the visage of one of those people who look like they drool bleach.

It was a big decision, of course, but you might blame it on the adrenaline I was high on after I found a dropped wallet with 200 bucks in it and no identificaton. Everyone was just walking over it, so I picked it up. Smooth leather, crocodile, I think. Lying there, calling to me with the allure of sweet mysterious money. The wallet itself wasn't particularly impressive, save that it was made of leather. Didn't smell. I pondered going to the "Lost and Found" department, or the police. And say what?

"Hello, I found a wallet with two hundred bucks and no name..."

"Err... right. Give it here. We'll... take care of it."

"OK!"

No, not really. I'll keep this money, thank you very much. I'm broke anyway.

It was a wonder I saw it to begin with, to be honest. I was without my glasses today, trying out these coloured contacts. Now, alot of you may or may not know, but I'm very very squeamish about my eyes. About eyes in general. When I see someone else inserting their contacts, I feel like there's a bug under my eyelid. So it was not without great hesitation that I undertook such a leap. Not like the red lenses that an old friend of mine wanted, of course. I'm neither a Dracula nor Silas from The Da Vinci Code, and I didn't think red would bring out my, err, eyes. So subtle shade of grey-brown.

On the way home from my haircut, fiddling with my new-found fortune and making sure my retinas don't fall out, I saw him. My cat. My Zig! He ran away a while back, and I've always seen him lurking about, dashing away from me at times. It's always made me more than a little confused. For what could lead a cat, who enjoys the life of a king, to run away from the one that pampers him to no end? But this time, this time it was different. He saw me, as I saw him. He walked up to me slowly, sniffing my fingers and followed me home!

It's also time for Wrestlemania 23. A while back, I wrote a little something about my obsession for pro-wrestling. I don't need to repeat myself, do I? I like watching it, give me a break. But it's Wrestlemania. The yearly event, the big one. This year's one might not be as spectacular. And I get to watch it live! Sometimes its great to have American contacts who get illegal cable and stream video over the Web. I'm so happy.

So yeah, cat, hair, contacts, wrestling and new cash. Not much more one could ask for, eh?

But lo and behold! What do I see today in the daily tabloids? Why, if it isn't a nicely written article about the idiocy of the selection process within the English football team! The very one I wrote not that long back! And an E-Mail from that paper, informing me about openings at their sports desk! Now, I like writing, if you haven't already guessed. I particularly like writing about sports and football when I'm in the mood, and I really abhore certain "journalists" that are employed in Singapore this day. They couldn't tell Maradona from Madonna sometimes.

Today's turning out to be one of the best days of my life.

Too bad it's April Fool's.