We played basketball for yesterday's cross-training session in the afternoon; it was exhilaratingly fun, especially after not having played a proper game in such a long time. And my teammates are pretty good basketball players, a couple of them played for varsity in high school- one or two'd be ready to take on the guys any time- and even those that weren't on the basketball team back in school, they were still good! It's a far cry from back home where precious few girls (excepting the basketballers) can actually play basketball with some semblance of the real thing. On the whole, it was a fantastic workout and a great game and a much-appreciated respite from erging.

Anyway I just spent my entire Thursday night doing absolutely nothing and my finals start next week so perhaps I should begin worrying now. Okay whatever lah I'll make sure I mug anthropology real hard tomorrow to make up for it. Gotta chiong like mad already! (Speaking of chionging, it's pretty funny how I have to resist the temptation to use words like these when talking to my American friends, especially my teammates. Like you know how we always used to use "chiong" in canoeing, for instance when Jiao4 Lian4 gives us 8 x 500m pieces at, say, 80% intensity, then we'll go "let's chiong the last 500m!" or something to that effect. So the other day I was on the erg between pieces and I was talking to one of my teammates, I can't remember who, but she was on the erg besides mine. And the program that particular day was short but painfully intense. I think we were almost done, probably at the last couple of sets, so during the rest period I turned to her and said "Good job! Now we just gotta chion--, errr, I mean, now we've just got to pull really hard for the last few minutes!" Good thing I didn't say "chiong"; I think it's a word that'll probably sound strangely awkward and jarring to American ears. Hahaha.)

The other day as I was walking to practice with Jay Chou's Ye Qu plugged into my ears, my coach happened to pop out of her office and she went "What are you listening to?" Well I couldn't very possibly tell her Jay Chou, since she'd have no inkling who he was anyway, so I just replied "Chinese music". (Makes it sound like I'm listening to classical Chinese opera or something of that sort). So now apparently I've been delegated the task of making an "Asian Music Mix" for erging to. My goodness. If anyone's got any fast-paced or remotely energetic Asian songs, please send them to me. For the life of me, I can barely think of any. Haha.

Bloody hell the South Quad fire alarm went off just as I finished the above paragraph and so I've just returned from my sojourn downstairs clad in my sleeping pants, t-shirt and jacket. And it didn't go off as the result of a fire drill or anything remotely legitimate- it went off to signal the start of the annual Snowball Fight between South and West Quad (it's an event that takes place during the first heavy snowfall of winter, where the residents of both dorms will congregate in the piercing cold and hurl snowballs, or, if you're slightly deranged and sadistic, lumps of ice, at each other across the street). Gah! I debated staying in my room but decided against it because I somehow know that the one time I remain in my room in deliberate ignorance of a fire alarm will be the one time it's a genuine alarm. So I went downstairs and mooshed around in the snow a bit and found Michela who was similarly pissed by the whole affair since she'd been asleep since 10.30pm. We crept back into South Quad after the alarmingly obese security officers switched the alarm off and so here I am typing this when the rest of my dorm is out mucking about in the snow and generally getting wet and soggy. As you can probably tell, I'm not much of a fan when it comes to snow. I much prefer sleep, thank you very much. Aiiight it's time for bed now.